"You're next, Mika." Makoto called out.
Mika stepped forward, and the air in the room changed again. She wasn't a Hashira nor a warrior. She was just Nezuko Kamado, just a small and fragile but heartbreakingly beautiful demon.
She didn't strike a pose, as if she didn't have to. She just existed, standing there, the bamboo muzzle a stark contrast to her pale, delicate skin. Her eyes, a vibrant, almost electric pink from the colored contacts, were wide and innocent.
She looked like a doll, a perfect, but broken doll.
The room fell utterly silent. Yuna and Ayane, who had been bickering, just stopped. They stared with their mouths slightly agape.
And Makoto just stood there, his camera held in a white-knuckled grip. He had never seen anything so beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
"Well?" Nezuko-Mika's voice was soft and musical, muffled by the bamboo. "Are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to take the picture, darling?"
"A demon behind that cute face, huh? Now that I think about it, it suits you, Mika." He started taking her photo from several angles. "Hmm, something is still amiss. Kneel, Nezuko... I mean, Mika."
Mika obeyed without hesitation. She sank to her knees, the soft fabric of Nezuko's pink kimono pooling around her on the floor. She looked up at him, her pink-lensed eyes innocent and devoted.
The pose was perfect, showing the delicate pink of the kimono against the dark, angry love bites on her neck. Makoto started snapping photos, the sound of the camera shutter a staccato rhythm in the quiet room.
And then, as if she couldn't help herself, Mika began to move. She crawled towards him without breaking his gaze. She stopped a few feet away, her head tilted to the side with a small frown on her face.
"Mmmph?" she said, her voice a soft, muffled question, a perfect imitation of Nezuko.
"She looks... too cute, too innocent. Make me want to corrupt it!" His lips curved into a smirk. He didn't break her gaze as he walked towards her, the camera forgotten like a dangling weight at his side.
As he stood over Mika, he reached down and hooked a finger under the green bamboo muzzle, pulling it to the side. Her mouth was revealed, her lips were soft, pink, and slightly parted. She looked up at him, her pink eyes shining with terrifying devotion, like a lamb to the slaughter.
Makoto unbuttoned his pants, the sound of his zipper a harsh tear in the silence. He pushed them down, letting them fall around his ankles.
His cock, already semi-hard from the photoshoot, sprang free, heavy and thick in the still air, with a prominent curve to its length. The head was already slick and glistening with a bead of clear pre-cum. It smelled faintly of clean soap and the sharp, musky scent of his arousal.
"Suck it, Nezuko!" he said, his voice a low, stern command.
The air in the room became thick and charged with sudden tension. Yuna let out a sharp gasp. Ayane just leaned forward, her eyes wide with hunger, as she witnessed Mika's corruption.
Mika didn't hesitate. She didn't even blink. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She leaned forward. Her lips, soft and impossibly plush, parted to receive him.
The first touch was electric. Her warm, wet mouth closed around the head of his cock, the texture a shocking combination of her soft lip and slick tongue. She made a soft, muffled sound and began to move.
Her head bobbed in a slow and hypnotic rhythm, her throat working to take him deeper with each deliberate swallow. The sounds were obscene: wet, sloppy, sucking noises that echoed in the stunned silence of the room.
Makoto could feel the slick, hot texture of her inner mouth, the smooth muscle of her tongue tracing lazy circles around his glans, tasting the salty tang of his pre-cum. Her hand came up, fingers wrapping gently around the base of his shaft, guiding his rhythm, ensuring that every inch of him was bathed in the wet, suffocating heat of her mouth.
A deep, guttural groan tore from his throat as his fingers twisted into the synthetic black and orange fibers of Mika's wig, gripping her head firmly.
Her performance was over. Now, it was his turn. He began to move, his hips setting a slow, powerful rhythm. Mika's head was forced back and forth, like a broken doll in his grasp.
A choked, gagging sound escaped Mika's throat as he pushed past her soft palate, his cock hitting the back of her throat with a wet, slapping thud. Her serene mask shattered. Her eyes welled up with tears that spilled down her cheeks, tracing clean paths through her pale makeup.
A thin line of drool, mixed with Makoto's slick pre-cum dribbled from the corner of her mouth, forgotten in her desperate attempt to breathe and swallow around him.
But she didn't fight or push him away.
This was what she had wanted. This was the entire point. Her hands came up, not to stop him, but to grip his thighs, her knuckles white as she tried to steady herself, to take every brutal, dominating inch of him.
"Fuck... you should look at that fucking slut, Ayane," Yuna snarled from the side, her voice thick with fury and undeniable arousal. "She's... she's actually enjoying it."
Ayane let out a long, low whistle. "Goddamn," she breathed. "She's a natural. She can take it all the way to the root... I'm impressed."
Mafuyu made a small, strangled sound, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Her face was a deep shade of crimson, her eyes wide with shock and dawning curiosity, but she couldn't look away.
Makoto ignored them all. His entire world had narrowed to the sight of Mika's tear-streaked face and her mouth, now a hot, wet, devoted sheath for his cock. He slammed into her one last time, a final thrust that buried him to the hilt.
The final, brutal thrust forced a choked, wet gag from Mika's throat. Her eyes, already streaming with tears, rolled back for a fraction of a second. She was completely full of him, like a broken vessel on the absolute brink.
"I'm gonna cum! Keep it in your mouth. Don't you dare swallow or spit it out," he grunted. A thick, pulsing torrent of hot cum flooded her mouth. It was a violent, overwhelming eruption that hit the back of her throat with percussive force. One, two, three powerful spurts, each one filling her mouth further, the thick, musky taste and smell a complete sensory overload.
Makoto could feel the powerful, involuntary clenching of her throat as she struggled to obey, to hold it all in. A thick, white glob of his semen spilled from the corner of her mouth, mixing with the tears and drool.
Her entire body went rigid. Her gag reflex was a living thing, a screaming, desperate muscle fighting a losing battle against her iron-willed devotion. But she held on. As his climax stopped, she looked up at him with her calm smile.
Makoto pulled out, his cock slick and glistening in the afternoon light. Mika stayed on her knees, her cheeks puffed out, her mouth a full, unwilling chalice. She looked like a chipmunk, a grotesque and corrupted chipmunk.
"Holy shit," Ayane breathed. "She's actually doing it."
Yuna just stared, her mouth slightly agape. She had just witnessed a level of depraved devotion she had only ever dreamed of.
Makoto wiped his remaining cum on her lips and pulled up the bamboo muzzle to cover her mouth again. "Keep my jizz in your mouth until the photoshoot ends. Nezuko isn't supposed to talk anyway." He picked up his camera again. "Let's continue."
Mika didn't flinch, just stayed there on her knees. Her cheeks were puffed out. She gave a muffled nod. "Mmmph."
"You... you sick fuck," Yuna snarled. She was staring at Mika, at the bamboo muzzle, at the undeniable proof of submission. She was furious and incredibly jealous. "Give me five minutes, I need to fix her makeup." She groaned as she retrieved the costume organizer box.
Ayane just let out a long, shaky breath, half-laugh and half-gasp. She ran a hand through her own wig, stressed and excited all at once. "Okay," she breathed. "Okay. Wow. So... that happened."
"Was that his revenge for me last night? Was he awake?" Ayane thought as she looked at him, at his camera, and then back at the kneeling, muzzled figure of Mika. A grin spread across Ayane's face. "Alright, you bastard. You broke our doll. What's next?"