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MEET N FUCK COMPANY

Chapter 4: 04. Ryōshū

Summary:

Ryōshū has a new art project.
(Body drawing, sex toys, dom/sub, light degradation)

Chapter Text

Various candles flickered around the room, coming in all shapes and sizes. Ryōshū’s black marker carefully drew on Dante’s stomach, beneath their navel and above their groin. The rough tip on their skin as their arms were bound was enough to make them squirm. She had drawn on herself often, but always wanted to practice on someone else, and Dante’s naked body was a good canvas. The set of colored markers sat beside them on the nightstand next to her ashtray, capped and prepared for later, when she’d color her work. 

Her deep red eyes flicked up. Dante’s head had sunken into the pillow while they stared at the ceiling. 

“Up here, clock.”

Dante jumped, almost ruining the line, though Ryōshū was quick enough to move it away. They looked at her, analyzing her features. Handsome face with a flat chest and thin legs, only wearing an unbuttoned shirt. They continued ticking in a confused manner until she smiled. 

“I want you to see it. S.S.” Stay still.  

They both knew and agreed that this would probably lead to sex later, but Ryōshū wanted to drag this out until all of her art was completed. In her view, this canvas was far too beautiful to leave empty. 

Her first piece was going to be a rose below their abdomen, a sort of impermanent womb tattoo. She carefully drew out each petal, making them smaller and more compact near the middle before folding out to the sides. It was gorgeous as it bloomed from Dante’s flesh, and once the line work was done for the first rose, Dante’s fingers were already curling into the sheets. 

“Already wet,” Ryōshū commented. She held Dante’s face up for a moment, examining it until she put her hand back to her side. “Pathetic.”

Dante didn’t even feel offended. Anyone around Ryōshū would quickly get used to her sharp tongue, and if anything, Dante got off on it. < I — I guess I am pathetic, > they admitted.

“Hmph.” Ryōshū reached out her hand and traced a circle around the circumference of Dante’s head. “Slut,” she murmured under her breath before letting go, returning to drawing on their skin. Dante did their best to stay still as she drew roses on their chest and shoulders, even resisting the urge to squeak and jerk when the marker’s tip grazed against their neck. “G.J.” Good job. “You’re doing far better than I thought you would.”

< Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult? >

They received a chuckle in response. “Draw your own conclusions.” Little stems and thorns made their way down Dante’s legs, and it was then they couldn’t stay still anymore. Ryōshū drew around their vulva and in the crooks of their inner thighs, roots twisting around and around. Dante writhed and squirmed, their legs trembling which required careful improvisation from Ryōshū, who could paint her pieces on any canvas no matter its movements.

Oh, she certainly knew what she was doing. 

After some final thorns that went to Dante’s knees, she stopped, putting the cap back on the black marker. “Lines are done. Again, G.J.” 

Lifting one of their legs up to see the work fully, Dante was taken aback by how detailed and lifelike everything was. Roses dotted their collarbones, thorny vines and stems making their way across their legs. Taking in the art, they didn’t even notice their hand trailing down, which Ryōshū was quick to notice. Grabbing their wrist, she pinned their hand beside them. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

Dante snapped out of their trance, looking back at Ryōshū. < I’m sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even notice — >

“Tch. It’s fine,” she muttered, reaching for a red marker. “Just don’t do it again. Not until the coloring’s done.”

She began to color in the roses beneath their neck, Dante letting out a steady breath, their legs trembling with anticipation. Ryōshū sat over them in a domineering fashion by their side, glaring down upon them as if Dante were the art piece, as though every inch of them were sculpted by her hands. Scarlet stained their skin as she colored in each petal, applying pressure in some areas more than others, careful to stay inside of the lines. 

Then she began to work on the final rose, the one that blossomed beneath Dante’s navel. The marker felt rough against their sensitive skin, Dante letting out pants and trembling moans from the touch. They knew this wasn’t even the part that would drive them the most crazy — Ryōshū was saving the green for a reason. 

It didn’t take long until it was time to use it. 

Ryōshū glanced back at them, examining her work. All that was left were the green roots and stems that trailed over Dante’s legs.

“Wonderful work, clock. Y.N.S.P.” You need some praise. She stroked Dante’s the side of Dante’s head with her fingertips, then her palm. It was an uncharacteristically kind gesture from Ryōshū, and one Dante was quick to relax into. “You’ve been quite the canvas. G.J.”

Dante could hear their heart thumping in their chest as Ryōshū uncapped the final marker, beginning to color in the foliage on their knees and slowly working up. After she was done with their knees, she colored in their outer thighs and hips, and it was here that her smile began to take on a predatory glint. When she began to dot Dante’s inner thigh with ink, her hand began to tremble, so she switched to the other. 

< Wait, you’re ambidextrous? >

“No. I just taught myself. I nearly got my hand snipped clean off once, so I learned how to create art with my non-dominant hand.”

< Wow. > Dante felt themself getting a bit flustered. < You know, Ryōshū, you’re a very talented person. >

“Huh?” Ryōshū appeared to be genuinely caught off guard, seemingly not used to compliments like this. Flushed red, she muttered “T.Y.V.M.”, her gaze darting to the side. Though Ryōshū’s abbreviations often eluded them, it was obvious what that one meant. 

She was thanking them.

Something Dante themself wasn’t used to. 

The marker found its way around their groin and thighs, and when the coloring was done at last, Ryōshū sat back to stare at her work. 

“Unsatisfactory. I’ll cut off the skin and create something better.”

The sound of a horn blaring filled the room from Dante’s head. < What?! >

Ryōshū cackled and kissed the side of their head, running her fingers across their chest. “J.K. You’re too important for what I have to do.” Fingers danced across their chest to right where Dante had been throbbing this whole time, her palm landing on their clit and brushing it lightly. Dante sucked in a breath and held it until she pressed down, when it came out ragged. “Besides, you’re pretty enough to keep around.” Disappointed eyes scaled Dante’s body, unhappy with the result. 

On the contrary, Dante thought it was beautiful.

Two fingers dipped inside of them with ease, curling and twisting with each movement from Ryōshū aching for this as much as Dante had been. They threw their head back and moaned, ticking and tocking, legs shaking and fingers digging into the sheets once more. 

They were on the verge of cumming when Ryōshū removed her fingers, laughing at how Dante whimpered after they were out. “Relax. S.S.” 

She reached over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer, revealing a large dildo and lube. Bracing themselves, Dante sat back and relaxed, expecting Ryōshū to fuck it into them. 

“No. Sit up,” she commanded.

< What? Why? > The question was laced with confusion — confusion that was diffused when she coated the toy in a generous amount of lubricant and set it on the mattress, facing upwards. 

“Ride it. I want to see.”

Dante’s hands shook as they looked at the silicone toy, detailed and realistic as Ryōshū’s paintings. < I… okay. >

They adjusted themselves over it and, slowly, carefully, sunk onto the tip. It was bigger than anything they had taken before. Why on earth does she even have this? The question didn’t linger on their mind for long, however, because when they had taken it to the hilt and were adjusting, they noticed what Ryōshū was doing.

She was touching herself. 

That alone was enough to urge Dante on. Their fingers brushed against their clit and rubbed deeply, mimicking Ryōshū’s movements. Work left their mind. There were no Boughs, no Vergilius, no other Sinners to manage — just Ryōshū, who was in bliss alongside them. Just Ryōshū, who, despite her fiery exterior, cared for them. 

“Damn,” she murmured, “you can take it deep. Makes me wanna fuck you with it myself sometime.”

< Please… > Their voice was a hushed whimper. < Oh, please, Ryōshū… >

“You know, Dante…” She leaned in, panting just as they were. “I have a harness somewhere.”

< Oh, Wings… >

A hand held up their chin, meeting her gaze. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Dante? Claiming you as my own. Making you mine. I want it so all you can say is my name.”

< R — Ryōshū… >

Everything was getting hotter and tighter. 

They couldn’t handle it anymore.

When they fit it all inside one last time, they came, keeping themselves grounded on the dildo for Ryōshū’s entertainment. This seemed to work, since Ryōshū leaned against them and finished alongside them. “Haah… Dante,” she whispered. “Dante…”

Just hearing their name come out of her mouth was worth everything.