Tachibana knelt on the padded floor. Knees apart. Hands resting on Yamada's thighs. The red basement light made her black hair shine and her skin look flushed already.
She looked up at him.
Yamada looked down.
"So," he said, voice low. "What do you want?"
Tachibana's fingers moved to his waistband. She tugged the sweatpants down slow. No hesitation now.
The pants dropped to his ankles.
She stared.
His cock hung heavy. Thick. Already half-hard from the kiss and the tension.
She let out a short breath.
"Tch. At least you're packing."
Yamada's lips curved. Small smirk.
"You girls said it was ten inches," he said. "That was before it was erect. Then it's twelve. If I remember correctly."
Tachibana's eyes flicked up to his face. Then back down.
"Yeah," she muttered. "We talked about it. After shifts. In the break room. Wondered how the helpless patient was hiding something like that."
She wrapped her fingers around the base. Warm. Firm grip.
It twitched in her hand. Grew thicker. Longer.
Yamada exhaled through his nose.
"Keep talking."
Tachibana stroked once. Slow. From base to tip. Thumb brushed the head.
"We said you were cute when you begged," she continued. Voice quieter now. "But we also said… if you could use your hands… you'd probably fuck us stupid."
She looked up again. Purple eyes locked on red.
"Was that true?"
Yamada reached down. Fingers slid into her black hair. Not pulling yet. Just holding.
"Guess we're finding out."
He guided her head forward. Gentle push.
Tachibana opened her mouth.
She took him in. Lips stretched around the head. Tongue flat against the underside. Slow slide.
Yamada let out a low sound. Not loud. Just air.
She bobbed once. Twice. Deeper each time. Saliva started to coat him.
He watched her. Eyes half-lidded.
"Good girl."
Tachibana hummed around him. Vibration shot up his spine.
She pulled off with a wet pop. Looked up. Lips shiny.
"Don't call me that."
Yamada chuckled. Quiet. Dark.
"Why not? You're on your knees. Taking me like you've wanted this since day one."
She glared. But her hand kept stroking.
"Maybe I did," she admitted. Voice rough. "Maybe I hated how much I liked making you squirm."
Yamada tightened his grip in her hair. Tilted her head back.
"Then show me how much."
He pushed forward again.
She took him deeper this time. Throat relaxed. Nose almost to his stomach.
Yamada groaned. Low. Real.
He held her there a second. Then let her pull back. Gasping.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Fuck," she whispered.
Yamada pulled her up by the hair. Not hard. Just enough to stand her.
She rose. Chest heaving.
He kissed her again. Harder this time. Tasted himself on her tongue.
She moaned into his mouth.
He broke the kiss. Turned her around. Bent her over the padded bench.
Hands on her wrists. Cuffed them to the front rings. Quick. Efficient.
Tachibana tested them. Didn't fight.
Yamada stepped behind her. Lifted her skirt. Black panties. Already damp.
He hooked a finger under the fabric. Pulled them down to her thighs.
She shivered.
"Yamada…"
He pressed against her. Cock hot against her ass.
"You can say stop," he said. Voice calm. "Any time. I stop."
Tachibana looked back over her shoulder. Eyes glassy.
"Don't you dare."
Yamada smirked.
He lined up. Pushed in slow.
Head breached. Then inch by inch.
Tachibana's mouth opened. No sound at first. Then a long, shaky moan.
"F-fuck… it's bigger than I thought."
He bottomed out. Held there.
She clenched around him.
He leaned forward. Lips at her ear.
"Still think I'm the helpless patient?"
She shook her head. Fast.
"No…"
Yamada pulled back. Almost all the way out. Then thrust in hard.
Tachibana cried out. Back arched.
He set a rhythm. Steady. Deep. Controlled.
Every thrust made her tits bounce under the uniform. Skirt flipped up. Ass rippling.
She moaned louder. Words broke apart.
"Harder… please… Yamada…"
He grabbed her hips. Thrust faster.
The bench creaked.
Her moans turned to whimpers. Then pleas.
"Don't stop… don't stop…"
Yamada's hand slid around. Found her clit. Rubbed in circles.
Tachibana bucked.
"I'm— I'm gonna—"
"Come," he said. Voice rough now.
She shattered. Body clenched. Shook. Loud cry.
Yamada didn't stop. Kept thrusting through it.
When she came down, panting, he pulled out.
Turned her around. Uncuffed her wrists.
Pushed her to her knees again.
"Open."
She did.
He stroked himself twice. Then came.
Thick ropes across her face. Lips. Tongue.
She swallowed what landed in her mouth.
Looked up at him. Messy. Breathing hard.
Yamada crouched. Wiped her cheek with his thumb.
"Good girl."
This time she didn't argue.
She just leaned forward. Rested her forehead against his thigh.
Yamada stroked her hair.
Tachibana looked at him panting. "Now what?".
Yamada looked at her. "Take a minute to catch your breath".
Then he pointed at the tool's. "Then we can bring them out, if you want".
Tachibana stayed on her knees. Chest rising and falling fast. Face still streaked. Lips swollen. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand again. Looked up at Yamada.
"Now what?"
Yamada stood over her. Cock still half-hard. Breathing even.
He reached down. Thumb brushed her cheek. Wiped a stray drop away.
"Take a minute," he said. "Catch your breath."
She nodded once. Slow. Sat back on her heels. Knees ached a little from the padding. But she didn't complain.
Yamada stepped away. Walked to the cabinet against the wall. Unlocked it.
Inside: neat rows. Ropes coiled. Blindfolds folded. Vibrators in different sizes. Plugs. A paddle. Fuzzy cuffs hanging on hooks. Soft leather ones. A few gags. Nothing extreme.
He glanced over his shoulder.
"Then we can bring them out," he said. "If you want."
Tachibana watched him. Purple eyes half-lidded.
She licked her lips. Tasted him still.
"Maybe."
Yamada picked up the fuzzy cuffs. Black. Soft lining. Looked at her wrists.
They were red. Light marks from the earlier ones. Not bleeding. Just irritated.
'I may need to change these with fuzzy handcuffs,' he thought. 'Her wrists are red.'
He walked back. Squatted in front of her.
Held up the fuzzy pair.
"These next time," he said. "No more marks unless you ask."
Tachibana looked at the cuffs. Then at him.
"You care about marks now?"
Yamada met her gaze.
"I care about not breaking what's mine."
She blinked.
The word hung between them.
Mine.
Tachibana swallowed.
"Then cuff me," she said. Voice quieter. "Fuzzy ones."
Yamada nodded.
He took her wrists. Gentle. Clicked the soft lining around each one. Attached the short chain between them.
Not tight. Just secure.
She tested them. Could move her hands a little. Not enough to push him away.
Good.
Yamada stood. Pulled her up with him.
She wobbled once. Legs shaky from earlier.
He caught her waist. Steady.
"Still good?"
She nodded. Cheeks pink.
"Yeah."
He guided her to the padded bench. Bent her over it again. This time face down. Chest pressed to the leather. Arms stretched forward. Chain hooked to the front ring.
Ass up. Skirt flipped. Panties still around her thighs.
Yamada stepped behind her.
Ran a hand down her back. Slow. From shoulder to ass.
She shivered.
He picked up a small vibrator from the cabinet. Thin. Curved. Quiet motor.
Turned it on. Low buzz.
Pressed it to her clit.
Tachibana gasped.
"Fuck—"
He held it there. Steady pressure.
Her hips jerked.
Yamada leaned over her. Lips at her ear.
"Tell me when you're close."
She nodded. Fast.
He increased the speed one notch.
Her moans started again. Broken. Desperate.
"Hn… Yamada… I'm—"
He pulled the vibrator away.
She whined.
"Not yet."
He set it aside. Picked up the paddle. Leather. Soft side.
Gave her ass one light smack.
She yelped. More surprise than pain.
"Count," he said.
"One…"
Another smack. Firmer.
"Two…"
He kept going. Slow rhythm. Not hard. Just enough to sting. To warm her skin pink
.
By ten she was trembling.
"Please…"
Yamada set the paddle down.
Rubbed where he'd hit. Soothing.
"Good girl."
This time she didn't argue.
He lined up again. Pushed inside her.
She moaned loud.
He thrust slow at first. Deep. Let her feel every inch.
Then faster.
Harder.
The bench creaked.
Her chained hands gripped the edge.
"Yamada— fuck— harder—"
He gave it to her.
Hand on her hip. Other hand in her hair. Pulled her head back just enough.
She came again. Loud. Body shaking.
He didn't stop.
Kept going until she whimpered.
Then he pulled out. Turned her over. Laid her on her back.
Uncuffed her wrists.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. Pulled him down.
Kissed him messy. Hungry.
He entered her again. Face to face this time.
Slow rolls. Deep.
She clung to him.
Whispered against his mouth.
"Don't stop… please…"
Yamada kissed her forehead.
"I won't."
He moved faster.
She came a third time. Silent this time. Just a gasp. Body tight.
Yamada followed. Buried deep. Filled her.
They stayed like that. Breathing hard.
Sweat on skin. Hearts pounding.
After a minute he pulled out slow.
Helped her sit up.
Grabbed a clean towel from the shelf. Wiped her face. Her thighs.
Gentle.
Tachibana leaned against him. Head on his shoulder.
"Fuck," she muttered. "That was…"
"Yeah."
He stroked her hair.
"You okay?"
She nodded against him.
"Better than okay."
Yamada smiled. Small.
"Good."
He helped her stand. Fixed her skirt. Panties back up.
She looked at him. Eyes softer now.
"This… rent thing. How often?"
Yamada shrugged.
"Whenever you want."
She bit her lip.
"Tomorrow?"
He chuckled. Quiet.
"If you're good."
Tachibana rolled her eyes. But smiled.
"Asshole."
He walked her to the stairs.
Opened the door.
Upstairs light spilled down.
She paused on the first step.
Looked back.
"Thanks," she said. Quiet.
Yamada nodded.
"See you tomorrow."
She climbed the stairs.
Door closed behind her.
Yamada stood alone in the basement.
Looked around.
Then he laughed. Low. Satisfied.
The room still smelled like sex.
He started cleaning up.
Slow.
Calm.
The day wasn't over yet.
But this part felt right.
Yamada finished wiping down the bench. Folded the towel. Put everything back in its place. Cabinet locked. Floor clean. No trace left except the faint smell of sweat and sex that would fade by morning.
He looked around once. Satisfied.
Then he climbed the stairs. Shut the basement door behind him.
Upstairs the house was quiet. Miyuri's room light off. Maids gone for the night.
He went straight to the master bathroom. Stripped. Hoodie. Sweatpants. Underwear. All on the floor.
Hot water hit the shower floor first. Steam rose fast.
He stepped under the spray. Head back. Let it pound his shoulders. Run down his chest. Over the scars on his forearms. Down the ridges of his abs.
He sank lower. Sat in the deep bathtub. Water filled slow. Hot enough to sting.
Eyes closed.
Today played back.
Casts off. Miyuri at the door. School. The music room. Three girls waiting. Then Tachibana at the gate. The spiked drink. The cuffs. The kiss. Her on her knees. Bent over. Begging.
A small chuckle left his lips.
"I am the one in control."
He said it to the steam. Quiet. Sure.
Water lapped against his chest.
He stayed there until the heat soaked deep into his muscles. Then stood. Showered off the last of the day. Dried with a thick towel.
Walked naked to the bedroom mirror.
Floor-to-ceiling. Full view.
Brown messy hair still wet. Brown eyes sharp even tired. Shoulders wide. Chest defined. Abs carved — not bulky, lean and hard from years of training. V-lines cutting down. Thighs strong. Everything balanced. Fighter's build.
He turned sideways. Checked the lines.
Grinned at his reflection.
'What would Tachibana's face look like if she saw this?'
He pictured it. Her purple eyes going wide. Mouth parting. That tsundere glare cracking into something hungry.
Then he thought of second year. Louisa, Tomoe, Mio in the empty classroom. The day they first stripped him. How their eyes locked on his body. How they drooled. Literally. Louisa licked her lips. Tomoe's breath hitched. Mio stared like she wanted to bite.
He chuckled again. Lower this time.
'They still do.'
He turned off the light. Dropped into bed. Sheets cool against skin.
Phone on the nightstand. No new messages.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep came easy.
Meanwhile.
Tachibana pushed open her apartment door. Flipped the light switch.
Small living room. Couch with a throw blanket. Kitchenette. Single bed visible through the half-open bedroom door.
After Yamada's house, it felt… small. Plain. Boring.
She kicked off her shoes. Dropped her bag. Walked straight to the bed.
Collapsed face-down. Groaned into the pillow.
"My ass kinda hurts."
She said it to the empty room. Half laugh. Half complaint.
Rolled onto her back. Stared at the ceiling.
Body still buzzed. Thighs sticky. Lips swollen. Wrists faintly pink even with the fuzzy cuffs at the end.
Phone buzzed on her stomach.
She picked it up.
Kurokawa.
"How was it?"
Tachibana stared at the screen.
Fingers hovered over the keyboard.
She started typing. Long paragraph.
"The landlord is Yamada. The patient. He bought the building. Built a fucking dungeon in his basement. Kissed me first thing. Made me kneel. Fucked me over a bench. Came on my face. Then cleaned me up like it was normal. I came three times. I'm going back tomorrow."
She read it back.
Thumb hovered over send.
Then she stopped.
Something twisted in her chest.
Not shame. Not regret.
Possession.
This was hers. Theirs. The nurses'. Not something to share yet.
She deleted the paragraph. All of it.
Typed one line.
"New landlord is nice."
Hit send.
Kurokawa replied almost instantly.
"??? Spill."
Tachibana smiled. Small. Tired.
"Tomorrow."
She set the phone down. Face up.
Stared at the ceiling again.
Body ached in the best way.
She closed her eyes.
Thought of red eyes. Quiet laugh. Firm hands.
'Asshole.'
But she was already thinking about tomorrow.
The apartment stayed quiet.
Outside the city hummed.
Inside her head, the basement replayed.
Over and over.
She fell asleep smiling. Just a little.
To be continued
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy