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It has become somewhat of a ritual between them.
Every night, darkness cloaks the small bedroom and cotton covers rustle, a silent invitation for Rem to approach the delicately sprawled out form that claims the centre of the bed. Misa always lets her watch— naturally, she cannot partake in such activities, but each night until now has brought her closer to the woman that plagues her every thought and desire until, at last, she is no longer hidden in the shadows.
The pillow beneath Misa’s head is barely visible beneath a blanket of silky blonde strands, her sharp chin tilting to beautifully display the smooth column of her throat to the Shinigami. Tonight, Rem dares to inch closer, amber eyes closely monitoring the young woman’s face for any subtle sign of protest. There is none, as always — if anything, her response to their close proximity is quite the opposite, naked thighs instinctively parting to accommodate the other.
“It’s about time,” Misa’s trembling voice notes, to which Rem’s only response is a silent shrug, flat nose gliding from calf to knee. Misa is acutely aware of the limitations, and yet the little temptress continues to tease. Tease, it seems, and tremor beneath her administrations. “Ohhh—thatfeelsgood…”
The simplest touch, yet it elicits a delicious response. Her gaze begins its slow descent, following the curve of Misa’s bare breasts, taking note of each painfully erect nipple, to the tender stretch of skin travelling from her sternum to her navel. They have come so far, she would not dare cave so prematurely and risk losing the young woman’s trust so soon, no matter how desperately her tongue longs to map out each inch of willing human flesh.
Misa, already arching with a whimper much louder than any she has emitted before, lets her own fingers follow the path paved by Rem’s eyes as she writhes and squirms beneath her own touch. Fascinated, the Shinigami’s slim fingers close around a slender leg to drape it over her shoulder after careful repositioning, head resting upon the thigh still pinned to the mattress. “Yes, Misa, touch yourself...just like that. I can see your arousal from here—so wet and desperate, dripping with desire. Is this beautiful, wanton display all for me—?”
Misa mewls, that husky tone urging her to slide her index and middle finger between the coated folds that throb with every whispered word of filth, aching for more. “Y-Yes—yes! For you, all for you..” she whimpers, slick fingertips gliding across her twitching bundle of nerves. They have been here before; quite recently, it has become impossible for Misa to fuck herself with any reasonable succession without Rem’s instruction, her pleasure as tightly bound to the Shinigami as her fate. “Can’t you touch me? Fuck me? Do something—anything?! Oh, ppppleaaase, Rem!”
The blonde’s frustration is as visible as her arousal now, an angry flush of colour rising from her chest to the base of her neck as her hips tilt against the weight of Rem’s head. It elicits a displeased growl, her waist suddenly pinned with brutal force the moment her dazed eyes open to greet the face between her thighs. “Wha—?”
“Is this not enough?” Rem demands, two sharp teeth sinking into Misa’s thigh, delighting in the shameless cry that fills the room. Misa’s hand works faster, greedily plunging two fingers into her soaked cunt with ease, another strangled shriek escaping red-stained lips as she thrashes. “Does it thrill you to be so greedy, little one? To never find satisfaction in what you are offered, to always crave more than you are granted? I have watched you spoil your sheets time and time again these past few weeks, fucking yourself with nothing but my voice bringing you to completion—yet tonight you beg for more?”
It’s no lie the Shinigami has often fantasised of more herself, but she has grown accustomed to her little treasure’s penchant for degradation and humiliation— she has witnessed the effects of her harsh words, how Misa leaks and shivers with delight each and every time. And while she would exchange anything for a chance to feel more of her beloved human in a more tangible manner, verbally coaxing her over the edge is more than enough.
“If I were to fuck you, my sweet delight, I would stretch you more than that—you can take more than two fingers, let us not pretend you aren’t greedy. I have seen what that pretty pink hole can do.”
As expected, despite her cold, hard hands boring down on Misa’s hips, she struggles against her strong grasp with a broken moan. Rem’s steely gaze drops, once again fixed on the fingers making a poor show of driving into Misa’s perfectly willing body. The little vixen is smarter than she is credited for — this painfully subpar display is her way of breaking the Shinigami, urging her to cave and fuck her in any way she possibly can. Misa has displayed herself in a similar fashion before, legs spread and fingers coaxing an unlawful reaction from Rem, but she has never acted upon it.
Nor can she. Not in any meaningful way, at least. Not in any way she often wishes she could, but her need to please Misa is greater than ever before, and the raw, swollen state of her pussy is something to almost take pity on. “Can you do anything for yourself, sweet girl?’ she murmurs, a hauntingly sharp digit lightly grazing the squirming blonde’s clit as her tongue traces circles on her thigh. Misa’s hips jerk, now free to buck against the Shinigami as Rem continues to swiftly mount her petite form. “I said you can take more. Prove it.”
Now eye to eye, Rem’s gaze is drawn to the bead of sweat trickling down Misa’s brow, her solid frame thrice the size of the writhing beauty beneath her. Misa’s entire body responds to her dominance, spine curving to push her breasts closer to Rem’s chest, wailing as sensitive, pebbled nipples chafe against the Shinigami’s ribs. “Nnnnhhh—! P-Please, yes! Ooohhh, closer! I could cum from this alone! I could, I could, I—,” she chants over and over again, legs frantically embracing the glossy, prominent hipbones looming above her as her fingers plunge deeper. Finally adhering to Rem’s command, a third finger follows suit, eliciting a filthy moan from the Misa’s mouth, plump bottom lip caught between her teeth. Fangs bared, Rem can only marvel at the carnal sight of her beloved clinging to her, spiritually and mentally stimulated by Misa’s physical display of unadulterated desire.
“Fuck yourself harder, Misa, my lustful little kitten—I know you can, I have seen it time and time again,” she urges, limited in a physical sense but caught in a perfect fantasy that entails a more intense form of intimacy. She can almost feel the warmth of Misa’s skin, palms comfortably cupping her entire ass to bring her closer as that frantic hand revisits an almost punishing pace. Misa’s body bends and breaks to the Shinigami’s every will, resorting to nothing more than a mere plaything as she fucks herself in a heated frenzy within Rem’s embrace. “——and look at me when you cum.”
The magic word; permission of sorts, Misa’s fingers curling within tightly spasming walls to hit that sweet spot. The wider scope of Rem’s order is almost lost on her, darkness engulfing her as immeasurable pleasure spreads from the pit of her stomach to every nerve ending. Her shattering scream is more dirty than ever before, heels digging into the mattress to drive her hips up and impale herself one final time as ecstasy seizes her mind, body and soul. At that moment, her eyes snap open to meet the narrow slits hungrily drinking in the sight of her, bringing her pleasure to foreign heights until her limbs fall limp.
“Beautiful, delectable, ravishing,” Rem croons, head bowed to let her lips taste the girl’s slick temple, cradling her close to pretend that she can somehow share this unmatched physical pleasure with her human lover—a dangerously hopeless fantasy that she suspects will eventually be her own undoing. “My Misa.”