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Noriaki hit the return key, watching the paragraph break on his screen. He sighed; he was nearing the end of his report, but it was still a far distance away. The amount of academic nonsense he had to fit into his reports on his stand research to the Speedwagon Foundation always seemed ridiculous.

Like he was sensing Noriaki’s exasperation, Jotaro pushed the office door open. Had Noriaki been less focused on his own essay-writing misery, and then on Jotaro’s bare chest, he might have noticed that Jotaro was acting differently than usual. For one, Jotaro didn’t often go without clothes around the house unless necessary, but Noriaki just considered this instance a treat. Secondly, Jotaro had opened the door in a way that could be described as almost tentative. Noriaki had given Jotaro an appreciative stare and turned back to his computer by the time Jotaro settled himself on his knees on the floor.

Noriaki started when he felt something push against his thigh. He glanced down to a head of dark hair tilted downwards against his leg and smiled. Jotaro had entered the room with the hope of some attention for being a good boy, and by the look of it, had already started to slip into his submissive mindset.

“Want something, boy?” said Noriaki. Jotaro buried his nose further into Noriaki’s pants. He made no moves towards his crotch—just asking for plain attention at this point.

“I’ve been busy with this all day, hm? I’m sorry. If you wait, I’ll play with you soon.”

Jotaro brightened up in his lap, wiggling his hips to mimic a wagging tail and Noriaki chuckled. He threaded his fingers through Jotaro’s hair for a moment before withdrawing his hand to continue typing. Jotaro’s constantly creased brows drew closer together and he dug his forehead into Noriaki’s leg again.

“Bad,” scolded Noriaki, clicking his tongue. “I said I’m busy.”

Jotaro sat back, keeping his hands balled on the ground like paws. He scratched at the desk, making Noriaki level his glare on the man once more. He almost got a final scolding before Noriaki saw him point under the desk and he sighed.

“Want to sit by my feet, Jojo?” asked Noriaki. Jotaro nodded, hunching his shoulders to look more diminutive. The large, abrasive man could truly transform for Noriaki when he felt like it. Noriaki slid his chair back, letting Jotaro crawl into the large space under his desk. Jotaro curled up, back against the wooden panel around the desk’s legs. Noriaki slid his chair forward, careful not to hit Jotaro.

Noriaki added another half-paragraph to his report. He felt Jotaro’s breath occasionally puff onto his socks, warmly and evenly, as he rested his head beside his legs. Jotaro seemed patient, Noriaki only hearing him shuffle his arms or legs around every few minutes. As time went on, however, he noticed Jotaro brush against his calves and feet more and more commonly. He was willing to ignore it as he wanted the very large man who had asked to be cramped under his desk as comfortable as possible. However, he jumped again when he felt unmistakable thick fingers wrap around his heel.

Noriaki grit his teeth as he felt something press against the top of his foot and move upwards. After a moment, he could tell by the sucking and brief feeling of teeth Jotaro was laving his tongue over his socks. Noriaki covered his mouth with one hand, balling the other into a fist on the desk. The toes on his other foot curled.

As comfortable as he was parading Jotaro around like a dog, Noriaki mostly kept his minor foot thing to himself. It was nothing full-blown, but stepping on Jotaro or any of his parts or forcing Jotaro to lean down to kiss his shoes made him excited. Jotaro had picked up on this, obviously, and was now using it to be a little shit.

Jotaro held the bottom of his socked foot in one hand, and mostly kissed along the top of Noriaki’s foot and up his calf. Noriaki glanced at his almost-complete essay and cursed under his breath. He shoved his chair back, yanking his foot from Jotaro’s grasp in the process. He cranes his shoulders forward to glare at Jotaro under the desk. His leaning position wasn’t very authoritative, but Jotaro’s was even less so, so Noriaki didn’t move from the odd position.

Jotaro’s lips were red and wet and he stared up at Noriaki, hair falling into his eyes, with an expression of defiant innocence. The hand that had been holding Noriaki’s foot lay balled by his chest, holding him up. Noriaki followed Jotaro’s other arm, which jerked slightly, down to his crotch. He palmed himself openly through his white pants, grinding his hips forward shamelessly. Noriaki scowled deeper.

“Out,” he commanded. Jotaro moved slowly, taking several moments to stop humping his hand through his pants and several more to reach a crawling position. Once half of his body was out from under the desk, Noriaki grabbed his shoulders and dragged him the rest of the way, earning a yelp that got caught in Jotaro’s throat. Even if not equally sized next to Jotaro, Noriaki was definitely strong enough to hold him up so Jotaro had to balance on his knees. Jotaro kept the stubborn look on his face.

“My stupid fucking dog can’t wait five more minutes, can he?” spat Noriaki. “You have to go and do something disgusting to get my attention, huh? You’ve got my full attention now.”

Noriaki almost smiled at Jotaro shuddering through the harsh degradation before remembering their characters. He dropped Jotaro unceremoniously, who fell into a kneeling position. Noriaki stepped surely out of the room, making sure to loudly open and shut the bedroom door down the hall once he reached it.

Noriaki took his time deciding on how he was going to set up this act. He settled on just one prop, and decided to use his imagination for the rest. He juggled it and a bottle of lube on his way back to the office. Jotaro had stayed in place beside the desk, head bowed. When he heard the door creak back open, Jotaro’s head shot up and his eyes widened at what he saw in Noriaki’s arms. He padded over to him and made a show of crouching down and nuzzling against his legs.

“Did I say you could move?” said Noriaki, feigning disappointment. “Another wrong choice.”

Jotaro doubled down on his begging, rolling onto his back and curling his hands up to his chest like paws. Noriaki set the comically large dildo in his arms down on its suction cup. It stayed firmly in place, despite looking like it was bowing under its own silicone weight. Jotaro whined, wiggling his hips for emphasis.

“You’re showing me your tummy?” cooed Noriaki. He reached forward and undid the button on Jotaro’s waist, belts removed before he even entered the room, before swiftly pulling the pants with his boxer briefs down his legs. Noriaki admired the considerably valiant string of precome that connected to Jotaro’s underwear as he pulled it away, even when he was locked in a cock cage. Just another prop for them to solidify Jotaro’s position. Jotaro set wide eyes on Noriaki as he turned away from him calmly like this was a completely nonchalant act.

The bottle of lube shut with a click once Noriaki had slicked his fingers. He pulled Jotaro into his lap so they were chest to chest, and he could hear Jotaro’s heavy breathing already. He pushed two fingers into him harshly. With a toy like that, a lot of prep was always needed when they used it, but a little stretch wouldn’t kill the other man.

Noriaki thought he felt Jotaro drooling onto his shoulder once he added a third finger. He pulled the other man up further, so he was kneeling over Noriaki’s lap. Jotaro caught sight of the toy as he looked over Noriaki’s shoulders and whined. They had bought it from a speciality store online that only made extremely odd sex toys, so they had been guaranteed a new experience. Along with being lengthy enough to poke into the front of the user’s stomach, its already thick shaft bulged our far in odd places. It mostly sat in one of their drawers, except for the time Noriaki had used it on himself and Jotaro almost came from the sight.

Jotaro realized Noriaki had added a fourth finger at some point when he withdrew his hand and left Jotaro feeling wholly empty. Noriaki dragged Jotaro in front of the toy to make him watch as almost all of the rest of the lube was drizzled over the large dildo.

“Sit,” he directed. Jotaro moved forward, still obediently on his hands and knees, and squatted down on the toy. Forbidden from using his hands, Jotaro adjusted several times to have the dildo successfully enter him as sweat beaded on his forehead. Eventually he found a hold and slowly moved himself down onto the bulbous toy.

Noriaki had risen to a stand above him. He crossed his arms, unimpressed at the tedious pace. He raised one leg and dropped his foot onto Jotaro’s cock, forcefully urging him downwards away from the pain. Despite being in a cage, Jotaro’s cock hardened against his will and the swollen flesh poked out between the gaps in the metal. He gasped out, freezing before lurching downwards and groaning. Noriaki stopped for a moment, taking the weight off of his foot to judge Jotaro’s state.

The stretch was immense, but it didn’t hurt like a tear. His insides felt readily scrambled already, but Jotaro shakily nodded and felt the perfect pain of Noriaki’s socked foot press back into his shaft.

Jotaro let out a strangled noise again, squeezing his eyes shut. They burned, even when it normally took him a long, heavy punishment to cry. Setting his jaw, Jotaro decided he couldn’t let go just yet.

“No, no, open your eyes, boy,” said Noriaki. Jotaro squinted up at him and felt his stomach turn over again. Another shove from the constant pressure on his cock sent him sliding further down the toy. He adjusted to the widest part of the dildo yet, spreading his knees further apart.

“Good, open your legs like a horny fucking dog,” hissed Noriaki. Jotaro felt his ass finally press against the floor, settling into a minor divot around the base of the suction cup. Tension he hadn’t realized he was holding fell out of his shoulders and he slumped down so far his elbows bent.

“You’re not done.”

Jotaro glanced up in time to see Noriaki seize his chin. With his free hand, Noriaki switched between palming himself and frantically opening his fly. Watching his foot come down on Jotaro’s cock made him more excited than ever, and he had already been sustaining an erection since Jotaro played with him under the desk.

Noriaki let Jotaro take his own pace as he shakily placed his mouth over his cockhead. He sucked hard, already moving with force as Noriaki shifted his hands to dig into Jotaro’s hair. Far from the gentle scratches from earlier, Noriaki took over and dropped his hips into Jotaro’s face. He noticed Jotaro’s hips had stilled once they started and moved his foot back into Jotaro’s dick.

“Come on, keep moving,” Noriaki said. Jotaro pushed himself up on jelly legs, and Noriaki pulled his foot back with him. Once his hips reached high enough, however, Noriaki put his weight back into his foot and forced Jotaro back down away from the pain. As he was shoved down, Jotaro groaned and the vibrations rattled through the cock in his throat. Noriaki set a brutal pace, moving Jotaro’s head back and forth on his cock while dragging the man up and down on the massive toy with his foot. He almost drooled at the sight of Jotaro unable to keep up, crying and spit dripping down his chin unabated. Jotaro tried to keep his tongue moving obediently.

“Where do you want me to come?” said Noriaki in a rough voice after a moment that seemed to drag on for hours. His harsh pace showed no signs of stopping.

“In your mouth?”

Jotaro cried something incomprehensible, cut off as Noriaki pushed down his throat.

“You don’t get to fucking choose, bitch.”

When Jotaro kept crying out, making his throat constrict around Noriaki’s length, he received a slap to the face. His training kept his teeth from snapping together at the pain. Instead, he let out another depraved noise. Noriaki hit him again, and another time, until he was silent other than the gags that came from his throat when Noriaki stopped while deep inside him.

The view of Jotaro beneath him pushed Noriaki to his edge sooner than usual. He pushed hard into Jotaro’s throat and tensed for a moment before fully pulling out. Jotaro gasped ragged breaths as Noriaki continued to hold his head in place, tilting his face up to come across it. He jerked as he came, spilling from Jotaro’s chin to his forehead. He held Jotaro’s hair tightly for another moment, making him look at his smug expression as come dripped from his eyelashes.

Jotaro almost fell forward when Noriaki disappeared from the room. He still gasped for breath, every puff making his raw throat burn.

As suddenly as he left, Noriaki returned. He set some more objects in his arms on the floor and began tending to Jotaro. He moved back into their first position, with their chests almost touching as Jotaro leaned heavily against his shoulder.

“Can you move up, big boy?” said Noriaki softly. Jotaro pushed himself up carefully, supported by Noriaki’s hands on his bare hips. The toy dropped out of him with a squelch and Jotaro winced. Noriaki guided Jotaro forward and set him back in a kneel on the floor as he reached for a damp towel.

Noriaki delicately wiped the come from Jotaro’s face. As he dabbed at Jotaro’s cheeks, he noticed the other man’s wet eyes as he sniffled. He shushed Jotaro gently, bringing him into his arms again. Jotaro would curse himself for falling vulnerable so easily had he not been asking for it all night. It was a hard scene, and he could trust Noriaki.

“You took it so well, big boy, Jojo,” Noriaki droned. “We’re not gonna have anything else like that if you behave for me.”

Jotaro nodded into the wet shoulder of Noriaki’s shirt as the other man reached forward to delicately wipe the lube from his entrance. He hissed as the cloth swiped over his raw muscles and Noriaki calmed him with a long kiss on his neck.

“We’ll wait till you get your strength back, Jojo,” said Noriaki. Jotaro was feeling better, but buried himself deeper into Noriaki’s shoulder for more sympathy. Jotaro hummed; Noriaki only called him his pet name when he was happy with him. As Noriaki rubbed circles over his back, Jotaro moved from the tear-stained spot he had nuzzled into on Noriaki’s shirt to his neck. He left soft kisses along the other man’s neck until he giggled. He pulled Jotaro back, cupping his cheek in a rounded palm.

“Want to get your gear on, Jojo?”

Jotaro nodded and Noriaki smiled and swiped the last of the wetness on his face away with his thumbs.

“Good boy. You deserve it.”

Jotaro crawled behind Noriaki as he beckoned him to follow. He moved gingerly down the hall on all fours, and Noriaki made sure to wait for him as he walked. Once inside the bedroom, Jotaro tried to sit, before giving up on his sore backside and dropping onto his stomach. Noriaki chuckled again when he turned around, pup gear in hand, and saw Jotaro with his arms curled beneath him like a puppy.

He fastened Jotaro’s mask on first—an all-black pup mask with a mouth that could be opened and gag inserted to make it appear as if the mask was drooling itself. Noriaki made sure that the snaps weren’t catching on his hair before slipping on Jotaro’s collar. It was dark purple, a color Jotaro occasionally insisted on for his accessories. Noriaki flicked the dangling tags—Jojo and Good Boy—before reaching for his harness. As the final piece, he slipped the harness over Jotaro’s wide shoulders.

“No tail for right now,” said Noriaki. “I want you to rest.”

Jotaro nodded grimly in agreement and Noriaki went to clean up their mess in the office. When he returned, he scratched behind Jotaro’s ears for staying in the same place and clipped his leash onto his collar.

“The dog leads on walks,” said Noriaki. “I want to go to the kitchen, boy.”

Jotaro plodded ahead, head held high in excitement. He got to wear his gear when he was a good boy, too. At least, Noriaki was hoping he’d be good after his punishment.

Jotaro led the pair into the kitchen and Noriaki set the end of his leash on the floor. Jotaro whined quietly, making Noriaki tut at him.

“Are you hungry, Jojo?”

Jotaro shook his head.

“Well, I am.”

Noriaki prepared himself a quick serving of omurice. While it simmered in the pan, he filled a plastic bowl with water and set it on the floor.

“I want you to drink all of that,” said Noriaki. “I’m not having you get dehydrated now.”

After Noriaki pulled up his mask so it sat above his lips, Jotaro plopped down in front of his bowl. He lapped the water loudly with his tongue, trying to get Noriaki’s attention. He watched Noriaki attentively tend the stove over the rim of his dish. When Noriaki transferred his meal to a plate and took the seat closest to Jotaro without looking at him once, Jotaro pouted into his bowl. Noriaki was testing if he could be patient again. Jotaro thought he deserved lots of attention after that stunt, but he ducked his head down and messily slurped the water again.

“Jojo,” said Noriaki after a few minutes. Jotaro bounded up to him, sitting up straight by his feet. “Did you finish your water?”

Jotaro nodded, licking some of the spare drops from his lips. Noriaki smiled and held his plate out at Jotaro’s level.

A few bites of omurice, carefully pushed together into little piles, still sat on the plate. He knew what he obviously had to do, but Jotaro still hesitated. The water dish was one thing, but begging for scraps was a new level for him.

Even so, he leaned forward after a moment and licked one pile from the plate. It tasted phenomenal, and Jotaro smacked his lips with approval. He quickly made his way around the plate, making a show of licking up some of the sauce left around the rim. The hand that wasn’t holding the dish reached back behind Jotaro’s head to scratch his scalp. He looked up at Noriaki lovingly when he finished the final bites.

“Letting you eat from the plate, this is why you’re so spoiled, Jojo,” cooed Noriaki. “Oh, you made a mess.”

He reached forward and dabbed some grains of rice from Jotaro’s mask with his napkin before wiping Jotaro’s face. Noriaki then slid the mask back over his mouth.

“Let’s get to the living room, boy,” said Noriaki. Jotaro bent down and nosed at the handle of the leather leash on the ground and Noriaki picked it up as he stood. Jotaro trotted across the hall as Noriaki watched in wonder behind him. Most times, Jotaro had trouble slipping into character even when he wanted to. He understood why Jotaro would want to stop thinking for a few hours, but also why he couldn’t often bring himself to do so, even if he completely trusted Noriaki. Maybe harsh treatment at the beginning of a session would get him more ready to be submissive. Noriaki filed the thought away as he kneeled down next to Jotaro on the floor.

“Roll over.”

Jotaro complied quickly, dropping onto one shoulder and letting his back fall onto the carpet heavily. He brought his hands up to his chest, curling them like paws and letting his thighs fall open to show off the expanse of his stomach. Noriaki scratched his stomach, bringing his fingers down along the muscles above his pelvis until Jotaro started wiggling.

“Is your tummy sensitive, boy?” smiled Noriaki. Jotaro snuffled in the mask, curling his toes as he was completely at Noriaki’s mercy. Noriaki gave him a couple more seconds before rising to sit on the couch. Jotaro remained prone on the ground as Noriaki flipped through a couple channels on the television. It didn’t matter what was on.

“Want to sit on the couch, Jojo?” said Noriaki. Jotaro pulled himself up without a moment’s hesitation, laying his head into Noriaki’s lap. He lay on one side and curled his legs up to his stomach as they both watched the flicker of the television.

“Are you cold?”

Jotaro vigorously shook his head and moved one hand to grasp onto Noriaki’s pant leg. He didn’t want to move any time soon. Noriaki scratched through Jotaro’s hair again, spending extra time on the spot right behind the mask’s ears.

“You’re so special to me,” said Noriaki. “I love you.”

Jotaro, still silent, sighed heavily and relaxed onto Noriaki’s legs. He understood the meaning.