Legato wasn't anywhere to be seen as you stood in the bathroom, facing your laced-up figure in the mirror, your hands shaking subtly with the excitement and the acute feeling of instinctual fear. Part of the fear was, of course, for yourself, but you also feared for your lover that lurked about in the other room. Though it was all his idea to do this, you still worried for him. The proposal had been so sudden; to be a doll for him to defile, for his own peace of mind. The lingerie that adorned you, pure white just as he requested, held a voice to it only he could hear. It looked just like a set he had worn once, though the request for him was not nearly as kind.
He'd opened himself to you greatly over the course of your relationship. Through a shaking voice and pained faces, he revealed his own terrors to you, the rough hands and sweating bodies that haunted him when his guard was down. The comforting embrace you had given to him took him aback. You accepted him, broken and tainted as he thought he was, beautiful and worthy of all lifes joys as you thought he was. The kind hold of a loved one felt like a sense that had been dulled for his entire life up until that moment. Everywhere to run, but all the willingness to stay.
He had an insatiable sexual appetite, as you'd come to learn. He still harbored feelings of guilt and shame over his desires, as if giving into them would be playing into his own debasement. The thought of being a little plaything for him was a bit unnerving at first, but as you gave it more thought, you felt a pull in your gut to accept his offer. To give him full, unadulterated control over you felt like the ultimate act of trust. You wanted him to be in you and all around you; the force of a wave impossible to fight against. You wanted him to feel safe in himself, body and mind, so you gladly put on the white lace and stepped towards the bedroom, playing the part of a meek little slave that knew the worst was yet to come.
He descended upon you as soon as you entered the room. Fingers pressed into your shoulders, Legato forced you against the wall and cupped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes were cold, almost glazed over as his imagined version of the scene took over his mind. He smirked, leaning into your ear, sighing, "You're such a pretty thing."
The voice coming from him felt foreign, rougher in pitch, like something unearthed. Your stomach turned as his hands began exploring your body, grasping hungrily at your chest before moving down to your thighs. One of his hands moved between your legs, rubbing roughly at your crotch and chuckling at the soft whines you made in response. His expression was almost robotic, eyes widening as he took in your facade of weakness. His breathing grew more intense, and his body began to shake with wound tension. You wanted to play at a plea, but before you could open your mouth, he moved to sink his teeth into your neck. You cried out from the pain, unlike anything you felt when he had marked you before. Focused on the feeling of his bite, you hardly noticed that he removed his hand from your groin and placed it against the wall to balance himself as he began rutting himself against your hips. That restless hand flexed its fingers against the wall, soon moving again to grasp your hair and pull at the shoulder-straps of your lingerie. He tore the straps off roughly, fabric scraping against your skin as he pulled it down to reveal your chest to him. You couldn't find the words to say, feeling as though this moment would be spoiled just by speaking, so you whined meekly as his fingers began to tease your nipples harshly, rubbing and pulling at the soft buds as his lips touched yours, tongue sliding down your throat as the wet sounds of where your mouths joined filled your senses. Your conjoined spit leaked down your faces, feeling all the more exposed as your body pressed uncomfortably into the wall.
Sighing a pathetic sound, you whispered, "Please, please stop," and Legato paused his actions to gaze into you. His lips pulled back to reveal his teeth; sharp canines threatening to cut into you if he so pleased.
"What did you just say?"
You drew your hands closer to your chest, looking down to the floor to avoid his wrathful stare. "Please, don't touch me," was hardly audible as you said it, voice like dipping your toes into scalding water.
The seconds stretching as Legato stood still in front of you felt like lifetimes, like you were stepping closer into that boiling pot before he shoved you in. Hands gripping your throat, Legato's face twisted into anger.
"Do you think you have any right to tell me what to do?" He barked, pressing your head into the wall, the growing pain causing you to tear up. "You think I should be taking orders from a fucking whore like you?"
You closed your eyes, knowing defiance wasn't what this man would want, and made yourself pliant and obedient. "I'm sorry...sir. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry, sure, you're sorry!" Legato laughed before raising his hand. You opened your eyes against just as the hand whipped towards your face, striking you on the cheek. "Get on the bed. On your hands and knees."
He reached around to touch the small of your back, shoving you towards the bed. By now, you're beginning to sob; the character you wear the mask of is beginning to flood any remaining sense of yourself that is presently conscious. You recognize the man in front of you, and you know you are home. This sensation you felt is not quite fear, but rather the idea of his abyss you're staring into, adopting these reactions to horrors you cannot fathom.
You wanted so badly to know him. So you continued crying.
Legato rushed to strip himself of his clothing as you presented yourself for him. When he finished, he made quick work of the rest of your garments, leaving you completely exposed for his taking. He positioned himself at your backside, spitting on his hand to lubricate himself. You turned to look over your shoulder just as he forced himself inside of you, crying out as the pain of him splitting you open made it impossible for you to focus on anything else.
"Oh God, it hurts! Please stop, sir! It hurts!"
Legato only answered with a tightening of his hands around your hips. His thrusts became rabid, panting like a dog as his length pierced you like a knife. Tears flowed freely down your face and onto the bed-sheets, a sad puddle mirroring the one dripping from where your's and Legato's bodies were intertwined. The steady flow of pre-cum leaking from him soothed some of the friction from his desperate thrusting.
For a fleeting moment, your own mind came back to you, and despite the pain you felt in your body, a somewhat bizarre joy bloomed in your heart. This was your beloved Legato, happily taking you to gain the feeling of control he's so dearly needed for all of his life. One of his hands moved from your hips to your stomach, gentler in its hold as his thrusting began to loose its rhythm. His voiceless panting morphed into soft grunts and the slightest of moans as he lost himself in you. You turned around again to see his face, his true face under the mask he wore at this moment, your beautiful Legato taking solace in your body. You were growing tired of the act; part of you wanted to stop your game and hold him as he deserved to be, rocking against each other gently with the others' pleasure in focus. But seeing his face twist into the slightest of smiles just as he let out a final groan before filling you up, you felt that maybe the joy of being held was felt by him even in this position.
You cried softly, burying your face into the sheets as he pulled out of you. His seed leaked from you and began to drip down your thighs. Torn lingerie, bite marks and bruises, and legs dripping with cum; you certainly looked like a mess. Legato slumped down on the bed beside you, looking at your face with soft eyes as you returned to your senses. You looked back at him and smiled.
"Are you feeling alright?" He asked you, an almost wistful look overtaking his face as his hand hovered over your cheek, silently asking to smooth over your stinging skin. Too exhausted to form words, you nodded, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. His warm hands stroked across your cheek and into your hair, Legato gently guiding you closer to himself until you felt his hair against your face. His other arm wrapped around your body, hands busying themselves with caressing you when he placed a gentle kiss onto your forehead. "Come on, I'll help you clean up," he said, moving to rise from the bed and lead you into the bathroom, but you caught his arm before he sat up.
"Wait, just a couple more minutes," you muttered. "I just...want to hold you for a bit."
Legato chuckled at your response. "You're so cute. Of course," he replied as he crawled back next to you, embracing you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Somewhat of a loaded question, as the marks around your neck weren't exactly pleasurable, but you shook your head and smiled again, "I'm fine, Legato. It was kind of fun, actually."
He seemed relieved at your answer and pulled you closer to him. You both laid there quietly, focused on one anothers soft breaths, Legato softly stroking your hair. You felt your consciousness slipping, begging you to give way to sleep, when you felt him rest his forehead against yours, whispering "Thank you".