The world seems to stop spinning. Isamu gapes, the rant he was halfway through dying on his tongue.
"Don't make me repeat myself." Yua growls, looking over her shoulder and gesturing to the ground at her side. He hurries forward, steps in beside her, ready to start his rant anew now this sudden weirdness is over, but before he can even start, she snatches his Shot Riser out of his hand.
"We're returning these, filling out our reports, and clocking out together. Do you understand?"
He doesn't. He nods.
It's well past the time Isamu would have already left by the time Yua finally finishes her paperwork, and tiredness only serves to make him more irritable. He complains the entire way to her car and even more once she tells him to get in and leave his behind, and only realises about 10 minutes into the drive that Yua has been smiling the whole time. It sets him off even more, and it's only when her hand slides from the gearbox and onto his thigh does he understand what her intentions are.
Once again, his rant fizzles out to a few grouchy utterances, his urge to get the last word in fighting against the sudden rush of anticipation.
Her apartment is sparse, moving boxes lining the walls of the entryway. She leads him with a touch to the small of the back into her kitchen, and pulls out two bowls of cheap instant ramen from an otherwise empty cupboard.
"How much real-life experience do you have with BDSM, Fuwa? Don't be shy. I can see everything you search on your phone, you know." Yua's voice is calm and measured as she fills and turns on the electric kettle. It's oddly soothing, despite the embarrassment that creeps up Isamu's neck at the thought of her looking through his search history.
"Not much, huh?" Yua surmises, "I'm not surprised."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"You're not exactly what I'd call a ladies' man, Fuwa," she pauses, her gaze dropping to his full lips, "Or much of a man's man either."
The flush that started at his neck is now burning his cheeks. Had she really seen everything? And what was more embarrassing? That she had seen his desperately questioning and awkward search terms, or that she can simply see it in his eyes? He wants to speak, to protest, but he can't figure out how.
"Look, I'm not here to play games. I just want to teach you a little bit about discipline. Are you in?"
"Are you insinuating that I am undisciplined?"
Yua restrains a laugh. Of course you are, she wants to say, but shakes her head instead.
"I'm giving you a chance. Take it or leave it."
The kettle reaches a boil, steam hissing from its spout. Then sudden silence as it clicks itself off, signalling that it's ready.
"I'll take it."
Yua smiles, and brushes away a speck of imaginary dirt from Isamu's cheek with a knuckle.
"I thought you would."
They eat side by side, talking little, and Yua finishes her ramen and starts on a beer before Isamu is even halfway through his own.
"I'll shower first. Make sure you clean up thoroughly. I'll leave a fresh razor and a towel for you." Yua whispers against his ear, and her hair whips against his neck as she turns away.
He's been in a woman's bathroom before. It's not like he's a virgin. But he's not that experienced either, and he can't help the rush that is smelling her rose-scented shampoo and conditioner in his own hair or her honey-scented body milk making his skin feel so much softer than he can recall his skin ever feeling. He's greedy, luxuriating in the hot water, perfumed sensuality overtaking his rational thoughts.
It's as he rinses off his lower half that he ponders why she thought it necessary to give him a razor. He doesn't grow much facial hair, and his chin barely looks any different from this morning. But then he looks down to his untamed pubic hair, and a rush of heat spikes through him. He reaches for the razor, and carefully gets to work.
"Oh, you're finally done."
Yua smiles as Isamu steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, brows furrowed as he looks around the floor, clearly confused.
"I took the liberty of putting your shirt and underwear in the wash with mine. The good thing about wearing a suit to the office is that no one notices if you're wearing the same thing two days in a row, right?"
Isamu hums in agreement, and only then does he look up.
Yua smiles even more at the way his eyes widen. Her slim figure is covered from neck to toe in a black vinyl catsuit, barely any skin to be seen but her hands and her face, yet the way it clings to her lean curves and shines in the dim light of the hallway is more erotic than any sort of lingerie Isamu can imagine at this moment.
"Come here, I have something I want to give you."
He doesn't need to be told twice. She leads him into her bedroom, as sparse as the rest of the apartment, and has him kneel at the side of her bed.
"Tell me if this is too tight, okay?" she purrs, and clasps a collar closed around his neck. It's firm, a strange sensation, but for some reason… a satisfying one.
"No, it's fine."
"It's fine, sir." Yua's voice turns sharp, and Isamu looks down at the floor.
"It's fine, sir." Isamu thinks back to the things he'd looked up in the dead of the night, on boring patrols where nothing happens for hours on end. "Thank you, sir."
"How quickly you learn!" she croons, and combs through his fluffy hair with her fingers while attaching a leash with the other, so skillfully and subtly he doesn't notice until she tugs on it. "Would you like a reward for being such a good boy?"
"Let's put that sharp tongue of yours to work."
She stands up, reaches behind her, and unzips the catsuit from back to front, a hidden zipper that Isamu hadn't noticed now exposing her crotch to him at eye level as she sits back down on the bed.
"Eat up." Yua says with a smile, and Isamu doesn't need the leash to guide him forward into her wet folds.
The scent of her sends blood rushing to his cock before he even dares to lick a fat stripe up her lips to her clit, and when he does, the taste is almost dizzying. He repeats it, up and down, up and down, a few swirls around her clit without directly touching it until all his senses are honed in on the taste and smell and feeling of her sex all around him.
Yua sighs in pleasure. It's been a while since she's had such an eager and willing partner, and if they're breaking office rules? Well, it only serves to make this even more fun. She tilts her hips forward as Isamu skitters over her clit with kitten-shy licks, hinting at her desire, and when that doesn't get the point across, she tugs on his leash hard and forces him to look up at her.
"Have you ever sucked cock before, Fuwa?"
He looks down to the side, licking his soft pink lips. Oh, what a sight. She tugs on his leash again.
"Answer me, dog."
A shiver runs through him, and Yua is sure she can see him flushing red even in the dim light of the room.
"Yes. I have. Sir."
Of course he has, she thinks, and loosens her grip on his leash.
"Then suck my clit the same way. Don't be so shy."
He does as told, his plush lips providing the perfect suction around her swollen clit between fiercer licks of her folds, his tongue firm and wet and exactly what she needs as she starts grinding her hips against his mouth, and it doesn't take much more for her to come with a deep groan.
"Good job." she manages to pant out after a minute, aftershocks still rippling through her as Isamu continues to lap up her wetness. "That's enough."
Either he doesn't hear or he's ignoring her. She shoves him with the toe of her shoe, and he topples back, only saved from falling over by her tight grip on his leash.
"That's enough." she snarls. "I don't like it when I have to tell you things twice."
Isamu looks up at her balefully, and Yua responds by pulling him forward.
"If you're going to act like a brat, I'm going to treat you like one. On the bed. Put the towel beneath you. Hands and knees."
He obeys. It's embarrassing being naked and collared when Yua is more or less fully clothed, and it's even more embarrassing when he hears a giggle from behind him.
"Did you do this for me?"
Delicate fingers slide around his freshly shaved hole, and he wants to bury his face in the pillows beneath him.
A sharp slap across his right asscheek startles him out of his shame.
"Yes, I did!"
Another swat, this time on the junction of his thighs, so close to where his balls are hanging heavy and tight. He winces, but his cock twitches, rock hard yet untouched.
"Yes, sir." he mutters, and Yua's finger tap against his lower back as if she's thinking.
"Count ten strikes as punishment for making me repeat myself."
She strikes him again, this time on the same place as the first, and the sensation feels like it doubles, hot and stinging.
"Do you want to make it twenty?"
"Then say thank you after every one."
"Yes sir." A swift spank on his left cheek. "One, sir. Thank you, sir."
"Good. Keep going." A softer strike to the join of his thighs again, followed by a gentle rub, as if to soothe the sting.
"Two, sir. Thank you, sir."
"I should have done this the moment you started talking back to me." Yua mutters, and the hard slap across his right cheek makes a crack so loud in the quiet room that the sound is almost as startling as the sudden burning pain.
"Ah! Three, sir! Th-thank you, sir."
By the time she reaches ten, he's sobbing openly, and Yua is shaking her hand out, her calloused palm almost as red as Isamu's ass.
"Now, do we understand who's in charge here?"
"Yes, sir." Isamu snivels, roughly wiping away tears in his eyes as he lays on his side on her narrow bed. He's burning with shame for breaking so easily under the type of pain he'd barely register in battle, but there's something in the way Yua delivers it that makes him feel like he deserves to be treated like this, and that hurts more than any sort of physical pain. But despite that, or maybe because of that, it only serves to turn him on.
"Come here." Yua offers her arms to him, and he lets himself calm down in her strong embrace.
It only takes a few minutes, and she lets him pull away just enough so they can talk face to face, even if his gaze remains lowered.
"Feeling better? You must be aching." she smiles, and Isamu feels her hand against his tender ass as well as her stomach pressing against his dick.
"A bit, sir." he mumbles. Yua laughs, kisses him gently on the cheek, and lowers him down, not letting him go until his back hits the sheets.
"Would you like to come?" she asks in that same playful tone, and Isamu quirks a half-smile as well.
Yua's eyes flicker to the side, and Isamu follows them to look at a nondescript cardboard box on the floor. He furrows his eyebrows questioningly, and when she looks back at him, her smile broadens.
"Would you like me to fuck you?"
His eyes narrow, then widen in sudden understanding.
"You can choose which one you like." she says, then rolls off the bed and walks over to the box. "Orange or blue?"
The dildos Yua's holding are bigger than anything he's tried before. Not that he'll admit to having any sort of experience at all. The orange one is sleek and barely phallic at all, but it looks very firm compared the blue one, which is jiggling in Yua's hand as she walks over. That being said, the blue one is thicker, with a tapered tip and a bulge near the base. Yua raises an eyebrow, growing impatient, and he quickly points to the blue one.
"Say please." Yua waggles the dildo in front of his face, and he bites his lip.
"The blue one, please. Sir."
"The blue one it is. Now, warm yourself up for me while I get this thing on." Yua throws him a bottle of lubricant and turns back to fish something else out of the box.
He does as he's told. It's not like it's unfamiliar. But it's not like it's every day he has the time to finger himself like this, let alone to prepare to be fucked by someone. And not just someone either, but a woman, his coworker. He lets his eyes fall closed, stroking his dick as he adds another finger, almost forgetting what he's working towards as the pleasure rolls through him.
"Fuwa, don't get too carried away." Yua sing-songs, and gently pushes the hand on his cock away from his crotch. "Raise up your hips and hold your legs up for me, won't you?"
He does so, and she places a pillow beneath his still sore cheeks.
"You're so cute like this, you know." she murmurs, sliding her slim fingers into his wet hole. "Isn't this better than being so disobedient?"
She silences his answer with a kiss, and draws out a moan from his lips as she pulls out her fingers and presses the dildo against his ready entrance.
"Yeah," Isamu breathes, and whines as she pulls her hips back. "I mean, yes, sir."
"Good boy." Yua kisses him again, and pushes into him slowly but firmly.
It's too much. He groans in discomfort, wriggling his hips up and around to try to make the stretch feel less intense, but it doesn't help. He feels so full and like he's stretched as far as he can go, and when Yua pulls out and thrusts back in again, he feels as though he really could break.
"If it's too much for you, tell me." Yua says, her voice soothing and warm, but the undercurrent of a challenge is there and that is what Isamu focuses on.
"No. I want it. Faster."
"Faster, please." Yua intones as she pulls out to the tip, and Isamu can't help the frustrated growl that comes from deep within him.
"Please just fuck me!"
"Well, if you're going to be like that…"
She slides into him again and again, still slow and smooth but still too much, and he bites back a pained whine and pulls his knees closer against himself.
"Are you really sure you can handle it?"
Yua hums doubtfully and pulls him forward, and the next time she thrusts into him, he can't hold back the loud moan that spills from his lips.
"Ah, there we are." Yua rolls her hips against that same spot, and Isamu can barely think enough to complain about the smugness in her voice.
She grinds against that spot until all thoughts of pain and discomfort are gone from Isamu's mind and are replaced with "want" and "more", and when he starts to buck back against her, that's when she finally gives him what he wants.
"What are you gonna tell the troops when they notice how you're walking tomorrow morning? Will you tell them the truth? That you're Valkyrie's bratty little cockslut?" she teases, and plants her hands on either side of his head while speeding up her thrusts, fucking him faster and deeper.
"You know it's me they respect, not you. You just happen to be young, pretty, and decent in the field. Good publicity for A.I.M.S. Encourages new recruits. Wonder how many of them dream of fucking you the way I'm fucking you now." Yua's thrusts get harder, and Isamu snakes his hand down to start jacking himself off.
"Hah, of course. You'd want nothing else than to be gangbanged in the back of our van, wouldn't you? Should I handcuff you to the rollcage the next time we're out on patrol and let them do what they want to you?"
It scares him a little, the way she seems to be able to read his mind. Gangbangs are certainly something he's never searched on his phone but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it. The idea of being used as a fucktoy by his inferiors, unable to even tell them apart when they're in full uniform and helmets… he feels an orgasm building inside him with every thought and every thrust, and strokes himself even faster, desperate to reach it.
"Or maybe I should just leave you with the new CEO of Hiden Intelligence so I can get some actual work done. I can't imagine how badly you want to suck his dick if you're laughing at his lame jokes."
"I don't—ah!" Isamu comes before he can finish his reply, arching up off the bed and splattering both Yua and himself with white, legs shaking and abs tensed hard as an intense prostate orgasm rips through him.
"Is that what does it for you? Is that why you're so aggressive with him?" Yua laughs, and unbuckles the strap-on, letting it slip naturally out of his hole while she strokes herself, chasing her own orgasm. "Mmm, I suppose I wouldn't mind. Just remember who your boss is. Who is it?"
"You, sir." Isamu pants, both ready to pass out and unable to look away from Yua's dripping, fast-moving fingers.
"Good boy." she coos, and bites back a moan as she comes for a second time.
They lay in panting silence for a while, and when Isamu falls asleep, he sleeps soundly.
"Wake up, Fuwa."
He looks up blearily, bright light filling an unfamiliar room. A jolt of panic shoots through him and he sits up, only to see Yua frowning at him while buttoning up her blouse.
"I let you sleep through my morning jog, but you're not going to work dressed in my bedsheets. Go wash up. Your shirt's in the dryer, ironing board is in the kitchen. Be ready by the time I'm back with breakfast or you're walking."
"You don't have to call me sir all the time now, you know." Yua finishes getting dressed and starts brushing her hair. "Just when we're doing this. Do you want to keep doing this?"
Isamu looks down.
"It's okay if you don't. I just needed some stress relief and you were there." she says airily, but she sounds a little disappointed, and that settles his thoughts for him.
"I… wouldn't mind if we kept doing this, s—… Yua."
"Let's just keep it quiet, okay? Now go have a shower, I'll be back in about fifteen minutes."
No one is around to see it when they arrive at work at the same time, and if anyone notices Isamu's limp or the way Yua grins as they load into the back of their van later that afternoon, they don't mention it.