Chapter Text
Suddenly ‘a talk’ became a punishment as well, and Karami couldn’t have been any more excited. She should have figured. There was no way she could get away with writing ‘fuck you’ a myriad of times and just get a slap on the wrist. And by his command of ‘stand against the wall’, it seemed like she was going to get a slap or two on the ass instead. Perfect.
She internally scolded herself with each garment of clothing she dressed herself in. She shouldn’t be looking forward to something like this. It was messed up. She was supposed to be timid and full of anxiety; maybe even resentful at the fact that the only reason he was getting away with being so controlling like this was because of the blackmail.
But here she was, already feeling a light wet spot within the fresh, new panties he got her. It was especially bad because her emotional state should have been spent with the conversation they just finished. He told her to let go of her feelings for him, so the idea of getting spanked by him should have been making her whine in dread.
“Asshole–” Karami uttered under her breath as if that would help dispose of her demented thrill. She slipped the second of her knee-high stocking on and then stared at herself in the body-mirror. The clothes fit her exactly as they should, and they felt odd. Odd in the sense that she forgot what new clothes were supposed to feel like. Her old school uniform’s fabric had run thin, and the edges of that skirt were working on becoming well-ruined.
Diligently she slid her fingers from the start of the top’s v-neck to the hem of the shirt to take in the crisp texture of the fresh outfit she was dressed in. It didn’t take long for added color to appear over her cheeks, especially as she once more glanced at the desk-seat where a new pair of loafers sat for her as well. They were a sweet light shade of blue with crystal rhinestones embellishing the back heels. And then, beside the buckle was that unmistakable logo of the interlocking Gs . Gucci.
Idly Karami rubbed the side of her face while she continued to study the loafers within their spot. What was she supposed to do about them? Her other loafers had broken, and these were absolutely not the required shoes of the uniform that the school expected students to purchase.
“Ka-ra-mi–!” Ichimatsu called from the other room.
“A-ah! Coming!” In a hurry she grabbed the shoes and scampered out of the bedroom to where her keeper stood waiting, leaning against the counter in the same spot he had her pinned just before. She forgot to tie her hair, but it was all right. That was something which could be done on the train.
Ichimatsu’s arms were crossed, but he still pointed his finger at the open wall dividing the main room and dining area. “You know what you’re supposed to do. Do it.”
She quickly nodded and was even quicker to turn in hoping he didn’t see the smile that came with the nod.
Karami was careful in setting her new shoes down beside the wall before she stood there as she was commanded to, palms flat against it while she stuck her bottom out just a tad bit.
She previously compared his apartment to a cemetery, but now that cemetery felt haunting from the absence of sound. Slowly Karami turned her head to peer over her shoulder in his direction, holding her breath as if her next exhale would shatter the silence's equilibrium. The only noise that was supposed to break the room's pervasive stillness was to be of his hand smacking against her rear.
Yet just as the expectation of ‘but me’ never came after Ichimatsu stipulated that no one could touch her, the slap of his strength never presented itself either. Rather, a much softer interruption severed the silence: The faint clearing of his throat.
He cleared his throat, and Karami swallowed down a razor blade within hers. “. . . Ah, . . . sir?”
Just barely Ichimatsu shook his head and lifted his hand from his arms’ cross to twirl his index finger, “The other way around.”
“E-eh?” bewilderment pulled Karami’s eyelids in a couple large blinks.
“You are to stand against the wall, but your back to it–”
“Huh? But–”
“Now–!”
“Ah, yes!” She heaved a breath inward and did as he wanted, turning around and pressing her back to the wall. By the look over her face now, no one would guess she was just beaming a moment earlier. Her lips were stretched fine and wobbly thanks to her confusion.
The predator assessed his prey for a brief additional moment, letting her wallow within her wonder.
Back and forth Karami’s eyes tracked. A physical representation of her uncertainty to speak; to question.
Then, the second she parted her lips was the second he stepped forward, like he was consuming her every detail.
Karami opened her mouth just to close it as his footsteps overpowered her envisioned words.
He stood in front of her, close–yet not close enough. “Arms pressed flat against the walls. Knees bent.”
“Huh?”
“Do you know what a wall sit is?”
She shook her head, each sway making her lips wobble more.
An audible sigh dropped from Ichimatsu, as he wanted to make sure she’d be aware of his apparent annoyance. “Like this–” both his hands met her shoulders and he steered her down along the wall until her knees were bent forward enough for his liking.
Enough for his liking; as that meant it was far from Karami’s liking. Her whole body shivered from the pangs of newfound aches jarring her nerves as this was something not easily adjusted to.
Ichimatsu stepped back with a smirk, stroking his chin as he looked her over like an artist admiring a painting they just finished. “There we go . . .”
“Uh . . . what is this–I don’t get it. I–”
“You brought this upon yourself, and I want you to remind yourself of that for the whole hour you’re to stand there like this.”
“Wh-what!? Hour!?”
“Ah, the story all makes sense now as to why he got her up so early.”
A bulky frown stretched across her face as Karamis swore she was about to cry again, “I can’t do that!”
“You can, and you will–” he turned, swiping a chair from the table, turning it around, and seating himself on it. He rested his forearms over the back of the chair, interlocking his fingers and then proceeded to just stare at her.
“. . . What . . . are you doing?” the quaking of Karami’s body never ceased and only increased each second.
“I can’t leave a liar alone. I have to make sure you actually complete your hour like this.”
She shut her eyes tightly as her brows knitted, “Come on! This isn’t fair! I only got like, two hours of sleep! I can’t hold a position like this!”
“I did tell you to go to sleep by ten.”
“Just because you lay down in bed doesn’t mean you go to sleep!”
“Like in my bed?”
“I did try on the couch!” The blush’s red puffed Karami’s cheeks.
“So now try a wall sit. We’ll see how long you last. Make it an hour, and I might reward you. If you don’t though . . .”
Karami clenched her fists against the wall. There was a time, not too long ago, where she would have purposely not ‘lasted long’. However, the sort of ache straining her right now was something she was far from desiring. This punishment was not as sexy as she originally thought it was going to be . . .
No, there really wasn’t anything sexy about this at all–no matter how damn sexy he looked sitting there with his opened vest and slightly undone shirt. And it sucked, too, because she couldn’t even indulge in that unhealthy eye-candy that was him sitting right there in front of her thanks to the increasing cramps twisting every one of her muscles. Her teeth gritted and her eyelids kept smashing to a close every few seconds as she tried to sustain the torture.
This wall sit tension was long past a simple ache–a whole cutting sting bit at every centimeter of her being. Inside and out. A whine inevitably formed within her throat and slipped out of her mouth.
It took so much effort, but Karami was able to spring her eyes open for more than one instant to try and get a glance at the kitchen oven’s clock. Of course, that meant getting past the sight of him first. Which didn’t happen.
It didn’t happen, because he started to smile. “Conceding defeat with a standing ovation?” he parted his lips, showing off those fanged canines. “Or maybe not quite standing if you’re about to lose it and fall . . . And you still have forty-two minutes left.”
The tears fell from her eyes. It was either her cries or her knees. At least this time they weren’t from anything too emotional. Mostly just the stress of this dictated position. “I . . . I can . . . I can . . .” Another whine–a whine that turned into a yell as Karami once more shook her head and started to slowly slide down the wall, “Aahh! I can’t! I can’t!”
“Oh? But you don’t want an even more severe punishment, do you? ”
It was a good thing she didn’t spend time making her hair all nice, because it would have looked like a tornado got to it with the way she thrashed her head from side to side.
“You know, thanks to that glass of wine, I’m feeling a bit more laid-back at the moment. Maybe I could help you out some.”
At once Karami ceased the shaking of her head and the wide-path of her eyes gravitated directly at him, “R-really–!?”
“That’s right,” the chair’s legs veered a half-swivel along the floor as Ichimatsu so fluently stood. And somehow, despite that wine with the earlier-pills, his steps over back in front of her were just as dexterous.
He cupped her chin between his fingers.
He smiled.
She smiled.
He spoke, “As long as you beg me first.”
She frowned.
He leaned in and continued to speak–into her ear, “Beg me to help you out now, and I might.”
She forced a frown.
Karami swallowed down, so profoundly that she was sure he could feel the vigorous frequency thrumming within her from the hold he barely had on her. “. . . Please.”
“Please what? ” Ichimatsu canted his head, gracing the shell of her ear with the slightest graze of his lips.
It was a two second touch that instantly gave her shivers and electrified her skin. It sucked away all the strength within her legs that was left, and without another moment of hesitation Karami had to give into his whim to save herself from falling from the cliff, “Please help me stand!”
“Heh–”
The single laugh was his breath’s departure from her ear and she was back to staring into the face of the devil that won every game with her, for she really didn’t possess the ability to play with him.
Not at all how it was when it came to his POV. He was the cat toying with the mouse, that lion with the elk. And with shameless ease he handled her the way a cat would in swooping its paw upon an already tired rodent to capture it.
He propped her up, her legs bent forward in such a position already that easily allowed him to ground his hands under her thighs. The under-grasp lacked the actual security of a hoisting hold, however. What gave Karami the firm support in place was how he anchored his weight against her.
It happened so abruptly, in a seamless and swift maneuver, that it took the distinct chill of the air tickling over her bare thighs that made her become actually aware of the position he fixed her into.
The way he managed to root his hold from under her legs was only due to spreading her knees apart as he braced her to the wall–legs parted with him between them while he kept her in place.
And in fact, the only way Karami ended up becoming conscious of the ‘chill’ in the room among her exposed skin, was in response to her skirt flipping up within the lift. The fire from her cheeks burned her eyes as she stared at the sight of her uncovered underwear. The sight of–the idea of–the feeling of that congested heat from his groin pressed right to her barely-veiled dampening slit left her dizzy and disoriented.
Her hands trembled as if she were trying to contain physical sparks from going everywhere. That’s what it looked and felt like to her with removing her palms from the wall to whisk her skirt back down. At least, that was her intention. Her hands barely got far from the wall at all before he was growling at her.
“Keep your hands where they belong–” Ichimatsu ordered through gritted teeth.
“Yes–!” Karami gave a single, stiff but quick nod without a second thought. Though her embarrassment resided with her skirt remaining up, and she couldn’t help but to glance away.
“You’re eyes too! Me–your eyes only belong on me.”
Definitively Karami obeyed. The blush across her face started to spread along with the moistening area of her underwear, as did a smirk over Ichimatsu’s lips.
With an acute forwarding onslaught, he forced her to feel both the wall scrubbing her back and his now thoroughly shaped, bound erection from within his pants rubbing up against her, “You’re not getting turned on over this, are you? ” he was sure to be slow about crawling his eyes’ trail from her face to their laps just so she could watch him watch.
“A-ah-hn–” Karami tried to reply, with what she didn’t know, and so a noise sounding so stupid even to herself was all that came out. She found herself facing a division-by-zero scenario with that question. Was it supposed to be a jest; or was he being serious when it was ever so clear his own lust was luring him as well.
But God, oh God, how she wanted it. How she wanted him–needed him. With every breath he took within her vicinity, he was denying her own ability to breathe. It was torturous in its purity.
Tightly she shut her eyes but only for a moment with the directive to keep her eyes locked on him still resonating within her mind, “Y-yes . . . Yes! It is–!”
“Well . . .,” he raised his eyes to hers in restoring that unwavering stare, “isn’t that a shame, because you didn’t think I’d help you out with your punishment for free, did you?”
“Sir . . .?” the tips of Karami’s fingers twitched once, her nails scraping the wall with her internal effort to keep herself from wrapping her arms around his neck from her desire’s need to rub herself along him furthermore.
“After we’re done, you’re going straight to school. The underwear you have on now is the underwear you’re wearing for the day. So do you understand now? I warned you to let go of your feelings for me. Because then, you wouldn’t have to spend the day in wet panties if you didn’t like this. If you didn’t like me. ”
Apprehension etched itself onto her as his words crashed into her. She felt the heat coursing through her body. If it weren't for her current feverish state, she was certain her complexion would have been lost completely. The insinuation behind his statement about relinquishing her affection for him had carried a double meaning, as was often the case with him. Of course it did. He planned this, just like he planned everything else, it seemed.
She screamed at herself internally to stay under control, but it was already too late. She was soaking through her panties enough to make his pants damp as well. The sensation of his heated cock wedged right between the entry of her fervid folds triggered a surge of longing that pulsed through her veins.
Every small, subtle shift either of them made caused for that defined shape of his to rub along her. It did nothing but made her literally salivate in wanting to fully have him inside of her. Unable to stifle her pleasure, every exhale escaped her lips intertwined with a soft moan. And he was loving it.
The smile he wore was so mocking. It was that pain mixed within the pleasure he was controlling her with. “ What’s the matter? ” his tone was just as taunting. “You better not cum just from me holding you here. That would be so stupidly sensitive of you. Is your body that ravenous for me?”
Her moan turned into a drawn out whine and Karami had to bite on her lip to make sure she kept her eyes open. After the pang of pain stung her, she had the short ability to speak again–to answer, “N-no . . .”
“Oh,” Ichimatsu raised an intrigued eyebrow and closed the distance between them, his tempting lips tantalizingly close, barely a breath away. “I suppose . . . once a liar, always a liar, hm?”
Ravenous. That was the word. He said it. That’s how she felt. As the anticipation of their lips meeting grew unbearable, she surged forward, consumed by an intense craving to taste him instead of the scent of his last cigarette. And with that same scathing smile, Ichimatsu turned his head up away to starve her more.
He whispered the single word which she had previously just said that now sounded like a death penalty sentence granted, “ No. ”
“Please . . .,” loose tears started to build within her eyes from the literal physical pain her arousal was putting her in.
“No.” The dreaded word was repeated.
“Why?”
“You know it’s a myth that goldfish only have a two-second memory. But if it were true, you could be sure I’d be comparing you to one right now–” He readjusted her, tighter against the wall, tighter against him.
The friction of his tented pants smothering the fabric of her underwear within her crease and the pressure over her clit created a ripple within her waist that jolted her hips. She couldn’t maintain any stillness. She yielded to her impulses, forsaking the prescribed position with her hands against the wall and impulsively arched her arms upward, encircling his neck in a firm embrace.
“Heh, bad girl, ” Ichimatsu slowly turned his head back towards her direction, his smile wide. “You’re not seriously going to hump me like some dog to get yourself off against my cock, are you?”
“Oh God, . . . no, no, ” Karami’s failure persisted as she closed her eyes then too. Just hearing him talk to her like that was enough to make her lower region flutter. She shook her head no to match with her words, but it all contrasted very much with the rest of her body.
Ichimatsu was right, and he was merely narrating her behavior outloud, as she was inescapably caught in a ceaseless cadence. She repeatedly thrusted her hips forward, unable to resist the instinctual urge to be in sync with him.
Yet, he was nothing but amused. “Be careful now . . ., do you really want to walk around with tainted underwear all day?”
The tears streamed over her scorching cheeks and Karami continued to shake her head ‘no’. And this time, it was a truth residing within the motion. As no, she didn’t want to be walking around in ‘tainted underwear all day’, but she couldn’t stop her hips from moving on their own.
The idiom persisted within her mind: There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. So where was it? Where was that light she could walk towards–the light which would be her guidance in stopping her body from disobeying her mind? She wanted to find it, but there Ichimatsu Matsuno stood grinning with a baseball bat that he just used to smash that light into a million shards. There was no way she was suspending her waist’s wheeling with that single, stunted groan which spontaneously crept through a single breath from him at that moment.
Karami threw her head back against the wall, a line of drool seeping from her lips. Yet such a thing would be overshadowed by the seeping liquids from her lower lips. She grated herself along the bulge of his pants nudging into her. Each rising rut increased the overwhelming sense of passion that surged, expanding in its potency.
With great difficulty, she managed to crack open her eyes, mustering only a partial view. As her gaze met his, she discovered a startling shift in his countenance—pure fervor replaced his once-smiling face. Such a deep desire swam within her heart with the hope that he’d give into his appetite for her.
There was a difference, however, in that he was keeping himself still while she bucked herself into a smoldering mess. The chances of him surrendering to impulse seemed slim. But Lord, how she hoped. She could practically feel that thick muscle pulse for her, and it whirled her senses into a tumultuous dance. There was no saving her underwear anymore. The fabric around the crotch of his trousers became wholly darkened from her juices extending all over him.
The strength of his grip on her thighs intensified, and the delicate scrape of his nails raking across her bare flesh propelled her to the precipice of ecstasy. She returned the scratch with her own nails over the nape of his neck from the crying tug her soul demanded of his form towards her. Her eyes, voice, and body all in sync within that weep for him. Every one of her senses yearned and sobbed.
Her whole body shook with the manipulation of this new climax that he forced her to have just from holding her in spot. Love and hate once again clashed, making her pupils swirl in every direction. No longer was there a single speck of chill within the air. Her new school uniform was going to be soiled with sweat, but it would be nothing compared to how doused her underwear was.
The two of them really were on some kind of carousel that just went ‘round and ‘round without a stop in sight. And Karami actually thought she was on one right now in how she saw the room seriously spinning. The only thing that reminded her it was all in her head was the constant sight of him and his revived looming smirk.
He leaned in towards her face once more just to pull back within the same moment, as if to give her one final tease, “ Poor baby . . . Looks like you’ll be getting that even more severe punishment. You didn’t make the whole hour in your appointed position. Even with my help.”
She couldn’t keep her hands from trembling as she pulled them back, to her face. Her whole body was still trembling. The embarrassment ate her up, but not because she just came in front of him again. It was getting called ‘poor baby’, despite the fact it was to make fun of her. “B-But I’m still . . . against the wall . . ., and . . .”
“You were supposed to keep your hands there–”
“Ah . . .” she parted her fingers to peer through, the frown short but deep over her face, “So . . . I have to wear these . . . my underwear . . . like this . . .?”
“Tch–” Ichimatsu stepped back, meticulously maneuvering himself to allow her to slide along the wall into a seated position on the floor. “That–” he faintly shoved his toe between her legs which made her let out another disgustingly delicious noise from under her voice, “is just a token of my aid.”
He wiped his wet sock over her fallen stocking around her shin and went across the room to the kitchen area in order to retrieve something from the refrigerator.
The brassy smile he had was at half-mast when he returned, dangling a bento box wrapped in a lavender cloth above her head. “I made you your lunch.”
The crimson dominated over Karami’s cheeks all over again as she looked up to see he was telling the truth. “You–really?” she did her best to stifle her pants while still trying to gain a normal pattern to her breathing. A small grunt pressed within her throat as she stood up, pulling her stockings back into place in the process.
“That’s right. You’re to eat it all. There’s instructions in there on what you will do for your punishment.”
The dominating crimson of her cheeks turned to a blood-red scarlet with the widening of her drying eyes. “Eh!?”
Ichimatsu pressed the box against her chest, “No peeking before lunch.”
Karami gulped and accepted the lunch with her shaky grasp. “What . . . what if I successfully completed the wall-sit?”
“But you didn’t. And you couldn’t. So I planned accordingly.”
“But–”
“Get to school–” he snapped his fingers ending with a point towards the door.
“Er–” Karami gnawed on the inner of her cheek in a final moment of hesitation as her eyes drifted down to that unreduced erection of his. But ultimately, a rough sigh prompted her to go, and she grabbed her new shoes.
She had to repeatedly tell herself not to look back as she went to the door and seized her battered bag. His voice disturbed her own in her head though.
Ichimatsu snapped his fingers for a second time, “Not that one. The other one.”
“Huh?” A couple laggy, extensive blinks accompanied her eyes as she turned to make sure she heard him right. She did. The invisible path of his point landed right on the Chanel satchel. Just when her blush was starting to subside too. “That doesn’t . . . belong to someone else?”
“I don’t want you wearing my blood.”
“Ah . . .” Karami quickly glanced at the stain on the strap of her old bag and then back to him.
“I got it for you–don’t read into it too much. I was just taking responsibility for bleeding on your shit.”
“R-right . . .” She stiffly nodded and then knelt, transferring everything into the new bag. Any further comments, Karami decided to keep to herself as she swung the satchel over her shoulder and slipped her shoes on–the Gucci loafers. They must not mean anything either . . .
Her fingers clasped the doorknob and she prepared to swing it open, but something stopped her. It was his voice, once again impeding her progress.
“Wait,” he ordered and walked to where she stood. “Face me.”
Both her throat and jaw locked up as she turned around. The flush over her face threatened to melt her lashes away. “S-sir?”
Something felt off, and it took Karami a moment of studying his face to realize it was because he averted his gaze. She had gotten so accustomed to feeling such a predatory stare on her.
She watched as he reached into his opened vest inner pocket and took out something small. The only thing she got to see of it was a glimmer of the rising sun's reflection hitting the purple gemstone.
The meeting of touch and sound transpired as his fingertips delicately brushed against her tattered hair, accompanied by a subtle click.
Retreating his hand, she instinctively raised her own in seeking to discern the object he had left amidst her. A new barrette.
Her blush softened and so did something else within her. Slowly she traced a finger along the shape of the hair-clip, “This is . . .”
With a sharp-flickering gaze, he yanked the door open, expertly spun her around, and forcefully propelled her out to the hall, “This is shut-the-fuck-up and get to school!”
The sound of the clip had been so gentle, but the closing of the door behind her was the stark opposite.
“Hey!”