Bondage, Geisha/Courtesan, Artistocracy (Kyouya/Haruhi)
Haruhi chokes as she feels his hand slide up her thigh, eyes growing slightly wide. "... Sir, we are--"
"Shh," comes the reply. Gold-rimmed spectacles flash in the dark as gentle and calculated fingers press against her flesh.
"But--" Haruhi finds herself forced onto the ground and her kimono is bunched at the small of her back, terribly uncomfortable. Her long obi finds its way around her wrists and winds around and around. A strange warmth begins to curl in her stomach and she grunts gracelessly, struggling against the bonds.
"Don't move," he hisses against against her throat and his hands grab her breasts, twisting pink perked nipples.
She bites down a sharp cry, toes curling as breaths come faster and faster. It would not be good if Mother found out, she thinks, thrashing desperately underneath the tall lean body of her host. "Master Kyo--" she does not finish her sentence as a knee is wedged between her legs, the obi pressing against her clitoris and the friction of fabric is hot against her sex. Lips press against hers and a tongue prying her lips open.
Haruhi wriggles and squirms and feels herself slick and wet as the obi presses against her anus and finally ties itself into a knot at her bound wrists.
Her heaving pants does not go unnoticed, and he smiles at her. A cold smile that sends shivers up Haruhi's spine and she only finds herself even more aroused.
She arches off the ground when his cock slides inside of her. Haruhi can hear the rustle of fabric even when the blood is pounding in her ears, noting that her host had not removed his clothes. But that does not matter down, pleasure racing through her veins as he thrusts forward and out. Something soft is rubbing against her skin, wiping at the blood that may possibly stain fabric. Her host is careful, no matter in what situation... how interesting...
Her mind blanks for a moment, crying out only to find her mouth gagged by a sleeve of her brightly coloured kimono.
He pulls back a moment later, breathing only slightly faster than usual.
He says something that she does not quite catch, and he stands and cleans himself off. A few calloused hands that do not belong to her host unties her, and dresses her.
Haruhi finds herself being carried back to her home, but in her mind remains a hazy memory of heavy breathing and a slick thick cock inside of her.
In her kimono is a handkerchief that is tucked neatly with stains of blood on fabric. Haruhi turns the handkerchief all around as she hands it to a geisha-in-training to wash."Doesn't this belong to the Ootori Empire?" comes the small voice of awe from the little girl.
Haruhi remembers the night with her host, and finds her nipples hardening for no apparent reason and the area between her legs aching oddly. "Yes. I had fell and he had given this to me," she lies perfectly, fingers pressing between her legs just gently, giving a soft sigh.