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There he was, laying crumpled on the hard, wooden floor of the Infinity Castle. His hands dug into the floor as he struggled to support himself.
It was pathetic, really, watching his frame practically shake with fear. Fear in which was all so appropriate, for he had failed his true demonic master.
Muzan Kibutsuji was a name for which every undead creature would learn to fear, his mercy somehow being granted onto him. Though his life did not come for free; his orders were clear. Kill the child adorned in hanafuda earrings, and leave not a single trace.
Yet the child had slipped away, along with a Hashira ranked swordsman. He was left broken and bruised, alone to weep with his dishevelled body. Though as his eyes began to close, he felt the calling; being brought back once more to the Infinity Castle, left to patiently wait in position for his master's return.
"Lower Moon One.."
Spoke a deep, unwavering voice; it bounced and echoed off the abstract walls of the castle as it twisted and morphed into shape.
Enmu didn't have the courage to look up, his eyes–now darting back and forth–kept firmly placed on the ground.
"What had I commanded of you to do?"
The lower demon's lips stay sealed, fearing the true sincerity of the question.
"Answer me."
Muzan had always contained such a powerful voice, one that instantly caused Enmu's lips to part gently, as his fumbling brain tried comprehending the words spilling out.
"To kill, the boy! -With the earrings!"
Enmu had made the mistake of looking up at the figure ahead of him, Muzan's form varied from the past encounter; this one oddly enough presenting as a young man, yet still keeping his menacing red eyes.. Red eyes that poured into him, telling him he was under his watchful gaze. His full attention. A sick sort of pleasure twisted and churned in his stomach at the thought.
"Then tell me, Enmu,.. why did you let him live?"
Muzan's tone quickly shifted with this question, a rougher growl heard in the back of his throat. A rare showing of emotion that was not at all welcomed by the lower moon.
"Y-you must understand, Master! That wretched little boy was able to see right through my dreams! It was an ability I couldn't combat-!"
"Silence."
Enmu choked on his words, the raised voice and hand of Kibutsuji effectively silencing him from breathing. He reached for his neck, desperately attempting to claw at a force untouchable to him. A flick of the wrist and he was struggling to hold onto life. Would- no - could he die from this? The idea would've been morbidly humorous to him had it been done to anyone else, a demon so weak and pitiful it can't help but have its head forcibly squeezed off it's body, naught a sword in sight.
"How disgusting. You dare return to my quarters with the prospect of reward? When you couldn't sort that useless body of yours to produce results. . ?"
His grip on his neck tightened, a struggle sob escaping him. He looked up at Muzan with pleading eyes, mentally breathing a sigh of relief as he felt the pressure subside for just a split second. The harsh changes in airflow left his mind heavy, yet light at the same time. A familiar warmth clouding through his brain like a handful of cotton balls. An addicting sort of headiness.
"Master! P-please! I'll kill the boy next time, the entire corporation! Just- please! Let me live and I'll serve you better!"
His voice hoarse and wheezing, as if merely staying conscious was proving difficult. Enmu's voice gargled. Thick, crimson blood filling his throat and mouth, bits of the liquid spilling over and down his chin like a thick drool. Enmu heard his own noises as if from a distance, hating himself all the while it was happening. Wasn’t this the very definition of disappointment? More tears rolled down his face. Spit slid from one corner of his mouth, snot bubbled from his nose as the surface epidermis of cells struggled to repair themselves against more abuse. He looked disgusting, and for the first time in his life, feeling the true fear of death. His master, the sole purpose of his being and allegiance was upset beyond repair.
"You look so pathetic like this.. begging for your life, my mercy.."
"And I'm feeling Oh so generous today.."
Enmu nodded his head with what little space he could do so in, causing more blood to drip onto his tailored suit jacket. With the eased tension there was a clear view of his bloodied neck, the flesh and bruises regenerating at an almost hypnotic yet constant rhythm. Warmth flushed throughout his entire body, giving him the same oddly euphoric look he gained while watching his fellow Lower Moons get slaughtered.
"Mhm! So kind- yes!"
A long, thick, flesh-like tendril slipped from the floor, crawling to the Kizuki prostrating himself. Slipping itself underneath him and creeping between his legs. Muzan looked down, almost smiling as the state of realization hit Enmu. The demon fell forwards, the tentacles adjusting their grasp to hold.
"Master! I-!"
He moans, his cock stirring in his formal pants at the rough treatment. He felt his legs being pulled apart and pushed down, his crotch inches away from the cold floor he was just pleading atop. His arms were roughly grabbed and forced behind him, rendering the creature entirely immobile to the demon king.
Kibutsuji has taken his time stepping down the stairs, almost ogling the body before him. Enmu perfectly restrained, his eyes glossy and hazy with lust. He reached his hand out, impulsively gripping that inky black hair and forcing eye contact.
"Look at how disgraceful you are.. thousands of demons created yet not a single one who's been so eager to submit. How desperate you must be. ."
Enmu's head dropped harshly, eyes kept downwards. He bit his fangs harshly into his bottom lip, letting the familiar taste of copper fill his mouth as he tried to suppress any further embarrassing noises.
“Master. . .”
A swift and rough movement of Kibutsiji’s hand struck Enmu’s face. The demon’s breath hitched at the harshness, tears in his eyes piling over. His thighs trembled from the new pressure on his dick. He let out a strained grunt as Kibutsuji brought his icy, clawed finger to Enmu’s chin, forcing eye contact once more. Enmu’s cheek was red from the harsh slap of his master’s hand, a fresh wave of tears beginning to trickle down his face as the pressure consuming his body did not subside. A soft, constant ringing plagued his ear as he tried to come down from whatever temporary shock his body was in.
“What are you, Lower Moon One?”
The questions sounded surreal when it left Kibutsuji’s mouth, and drifted into Enmu’s ears. The demon’s vision was blurry with tears, but he tried his best to blink them away. He felt so insignificant in his position, more than he usually had. What was this feeling?
“Speak.”
That demanding tone, one of cruel carelessness. A tone of slight frustration with the lower demon's right lip. Though, even slight frustration from Kibutsuji was more than many had lived to witness.
“I. . ."
What was this game? What was he supposed to say? He was grateful enough just to be conversing and breathing in the same room as him.
“You don’t know, do you?”
His master was right. He didn’t know. For once, he had no answer for his actions, for himself. The tight feeling in his pants seemed to worsen as Kibutsuji spoke. As much as his mind and heart ached, he couldn’t help but lean into this. It felt so ungodly, and yet so amazing. He felt enthralled, utterly smitten.
“I’ll tell you what you are.”
Kibutsuji spoke, his voice unwavering and cold, the air in the room seemed to thicken with tension as the malice in Kibutsuji’s eyes grew. He leaned in, mere inches from Enmu’s colorless face, his warm breath a contrasting attribute of the situation. Enmu shuddered subconsciously, his body feeling warm and fuzzy, but at the same time, he feared for himself. For what would happen. His muscles were tense with anticipation. Would he beat him? Degrade him? Call him a useless, filthy, waste of blood- Touch him..? He didn't quite know which one he was hoping for at the moment.
“You are nothing.”
The words hit Enmu like a slap on the face, which he wasn't necessarily convinced didn't accompany that comment to begin with. There was a look of indifference on his master’s face as Enmu crumbled like. . like the nothing he was.
“Yes. . Yes, Master. . .”
Enmu felt pained, but not in the way he’d expected. The tightness around his body forced him to become completely vulnerable to this. A meek whine left his lips as his head fell. His heart was pounding and his mind was racing. He felt like nothing. He was nothing. And he sort of enjoyed it. He could be dead, and he’s not. What more could he ask for?
“Say it, then. I want to hear it.”
Enmu’s hesitation left him. And so did his will.
“I am. . I am nothing.”
A subtle nod from his master. A nod that meant he had done something good. A nod that meant he was in fact nothing. His pants almost felt like they were going to tear with how much stress was being put on them, the fleshy tendril kept pushing right back, and it felt so utterly shameful. So embarrassing. And it showed on his face, as a thick red flush crept up his neck and to his face- his signature look.
“How does this feel?”
The question was genuine. But Enmu couldn’t falter to the nonchalant attitude. Every word that left his master’s mouth felt like a harsh jab in the heart. It was a pain Enmu enjoyed, a feeling of uselessness so primal that he craved it. Kibutsuji’s eyes narrowed slightly; he was expecting an answer. And Enmu knew he was not a patient one.
“It. . . feels nice.”
Enmu tried to project his voice more, but his vocal cords couldn’t manage to lift his voice above a breathy whisper. He still felt embarrassed. He almost wished he’d just been decapitated, but this was unexpected. This was new, and exciting. Even so, it was dreadful. Soon, his thoughts seemed to melt as the fleshy tendril gently rocked into his crotch, experimental, a taste of friction. He was nothing. Nothing but a mindless, blood-sucking creature. And he loved every moment of it.
“And you will not fail me again, will you?”
It was clear Kibutsuji was mocking him. He didn’t want to say anything. Words could never amount to how he felt, how many little sparks were shooting through his veins with every harsh brush against him. With every suppressed cry. His head felt heavy on his shoulders.
“No… Master. I will not fail y– ah!”
A rough strike was placed upon his backside as he’s shoved to the floor, his head down and his bottom up. It was a surprise, a pleasant one. But why? Why did this feel so good? Another rough hit, and another gasp of sheer shock. The feeling sent tingles all throughout his body, and a small chuckle of happy surprise erupted from his lips. The feeling was indescribably amazing! It was nothing like how the slayers had beaten and bruised him. This cruelty was pleasant, something he wanted so desperately like a piece slotting into place.
“How about now? Does it still feel nice?”
“Yes, Master. . !”
The words seemed to just slip out, and Enmu surprised himself with how much enthusiasm there was in his own voice.
“You truly are nothing.”
An amused smile? Were Enmu’s eyes tricking him? No, not a smile, but maybe a cruel grin at the misfortune he was bringing someone- the one he's sure Kibutsuji had shown many others in their death dates. The thought of him bringing this type of pain and humiliation to others was making him furious. But, could it be, He was pleasing Kibutsuji? The feeling as he was slapped again felt even more enthralling than the last, just the thought he was doing good was enough to make the feeling more intense, almost intimate. There was no pause, and another harsh slap.
And another.
And another.
Enmu felt he was going to just explode with joy. The tears in his eyes were ones of sheer pleasure as he gasped at another slap. He let out a soft moan at the after effect of the feeling. The sensation of a fleshy force slapping him so intimately, letting the pain bloom over his cold skin, drove him mad. With every harsh strike bringing his head back down, there was another paralleling it from the other side, forcing him to stand tall. The flesh strikes him with varying intensity, the fastest and sweetest of hits feeling like a whip upon his back. He'd happily take lashings if it meant it was from Muzan himself.
“What was that?”
Kibutsuji leaned in again. Enmu swallowed hard as his master approached once more.
Another harsh slap and Enmu tried his best to keep his lips sealed, but a cry of pleasure left him.
Another, and another, oh, another!
Enmu let out a loud scream of enjoyment and he arched his back. The pleasure was too much for even him to try and hide. He felt himself twitch and release before he even knew what was happening. There was a warm, sticky feeling in his pants. He felt filthy, like a disgusting pig made to sleep in its own filth. His beating didn't have the courtesy to cease however, the feeling of pleasure subsided and failed to cloud the new set of strikes in the same orgasmic haze.
He heaved and gasped through the next few seconds, his fingernails digging into the floor just to find no purchase. Kibutsuji’s expression hardened with annoyance, turning his nose up to Enmu like he was a dog who made a fool of itself. No worries, Kibutsuji knew the best way to house train any unruly animal was to shove their face in the mess they made.
“Did you come without my permission?”
The rosy colour in Enmu’s cheeks left at the words. At the realisation of his mistake. He opened his mouth to speak but the breath was knocked out of him as the tendrils restraining him forced him up on his knees. Enmu gasped as a sob escaped him.
“Forgive me. . !”
That was all he could muster as Kibutsuji’s uncaring, piercing eyes stared into his own.
"But– let me make it up to you, Master! I swear–!"
His eyes rolled back in pleasure, feeling himself being manhandled further and further up the stairs and towards his Lord. Kibutsuji places a thumb on his chin harshly, pressing into the soft, porcelain face Enmu thought was glorious. He seemed to be pondering something, though, Enmu knew better than to assume Kibutsuji wouldn't have a plan calculated for any circumstance. It must've just been for show, a faux way of taunting him that allows him to step in fear first.
“How can you make it up to me?”
Kibutsuji’s stare was so cruel and unforgiving, and yet there was something else there.
“I- I’ll do anything. . . anything, Master!”
“Anything?”
“Anything. . .”
Kibutsuji gave his insubordinate a calculating look, the disdain not leaving his expression as a malicious smirk curved at the side of his mouth. Enmu was practically foaming at the mouth, trembling before his master in the most vulnerable and embarrassing position. He felt so pathetic, so worthless. And his eyes widened with shock, taken aback by the sudden erection in front of him. The flush came back as a rising heat filled his body. All the blood came rushing back as he was mere inches from Kibutsuji’s cock.
“Show me.”
Had his pants always been opened like that? Enmu’s breathing seemed to become faster the longer he eyed it. It was definitely something to gawk at, perfectly shaped in every way, the veins just complimenting the sheer beauty of it. Neatly trimmed and curving upward, good to satisfy the spot deep inside anyone. He expected nothing less than perfection from the Demon King, and he would not soon be ungrateful for this gift.
He pursed his lips before bringing Kibutsuji’s tip straight into his mouth, sucking graciously. He gave a few soft, experimental kisses to the underside of the head, though he figured the foreplay has gone on long enough. He tasted a bead of salty precum on his tongue, encouraging him to suck him down to the back of his throat in a prolonged forward motion.
This was perfect. Oh, it was all he could ask for!
Kibutsuji’s hand grazed the back of Enmu’s neck, sending shivers up his spine before his hair was firmly grabbed. A grunt, and he was bobbing his head in no time. He wishes he was wearing something prettier on his face than he was. With how pale and beautiful his master's skin was, he would've killed to see it covered in red lipstick.
It hadn't been the first time he's gone down on someone - quite the opposite, he didn't think there was another living creature on the planet who deserves it more than Kibutsuji though. His little quickies in pantries and cellars and with maybe less-then-coherent humans could've never ever compared to the feeling of being so thoroughly used.
He moaned as the tears of painful pleasure returned. He stared up at his master’s unwavering, calculating face, a cold breath leaving his mouth every few seconds, visible in the air. Enmu was seeing stars with every shove and every buck of Kibutsuji’s hips. Every second of this would count, and once the time came, he would swallow every last drop. Like the good demon he was.
Fuck. . . fuck! Enmu’s gaze was shifting in and out of a blissful blur. If his eyes shut for just a moment, he might miss the glorious face Muzan would undoubtedly make when he came.
“Serve…me, you waste of space.”
The words made Enmu moan wantonly, bobbing his head sloppily on his master’s dick with more fervor.
It felt so unsavoury, it felt so bittersweet. Kibutsuji’s breath seemed to shake, the veins in his neck and forehead more predominant as Enmu sucked him off. The grunts originally coming from the pale man getting louder, harder to contain. It was the most illegible anyone had seen him, he bet.
Kibutsuji felt himself getting close. So close. He wouldn’t let it happen, not yet. He threw Enmu’s head away harshly, a line of spit was torn as he was sent back a pace. Enmu panted and wheezed before being tugged right back in place.
“Open.”
A cold thumb pressed against Enmu’s quivering lip, and he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out slightly. He knew what was coming, and it was his Master. Kibutsuji began pumping his shaft, each breath more and more strained, but that same cruel look in his eyes. Enmu felt his cock twitch with anticipation. And, finally. .
Beads of semen crept down the sides of Enmu’s chin, an inconsistent stream of cum landing directly on his tongue. He stood like that for an extra few seconds to ensure Kibutsuji was finished. He closed his mouth and swallowed at the bitter taste, yet he was disappointed by no means.
Staring up at his master, a cum-covered, red face. His eyes were drooping, and Kibutsuji’s were blinking a few times before he zipped his slacks back up, running his fingers through his own hair and taking a breath.
“Dismissed.”
His tone that same unwavering and uncaring tone, a cold shoulder to Enmu before he was tossed out onto the ground near the train station. The last sound ever heard being that of a loud Biwa. He was frozen from the initial shock.
He wiped every last bit of cum off his face with his hands, licking his fingers graciously, still a mess and not caring what civilians saw. Maybe failing wasn’t so bad after all…