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Hitoshi watches Katsuki as he moves around the table. Every time the blond leans over to refill Shouto’s drink, he’s treated to a nice view of Katsuki’s tanned backside and the pale blue lace of his panties. Katsuki’s smile is polite yet strained as he offers Momo a refill. He’s never shown off one of his own personal toys like this, let alone someone so newly trained.
He runs a hand over one soft, muscular thigh and the wine bottle Katsuki’s holding clinks clumsily against Tenya’s glass. The blond offers a polite apology and then takes his seat next to his master. While his guests have mostly finished eating, Katsuki’s plate is nearly untouched; though Hitoshi isn’t certain if that’s a breakdown in his conditioning or a testament to how many drinks Shouto has had tonight.
“He’s extremely well behaved.” Tenya dabs the corner of his mouth with his napkin before setting it back in his lap. “Polite, too.”
“Indeed, I don’t think Shouto’s cup has had a chance to run dry once tonight.” Momo smiles teasingly before taking a sip of her own glass.
“I wouldn’t be willing to show him off if I wasn’t confident in my training.” Hitoshi runs his thumb idly over Katsuki’s thigh. “Why don’t you eat something, Katsuki? Wouldn’t want your lovely cooking to go to waste.”
There’s no hesitation as Katsuki picks up his chopsticks, yet Hitoshi can see the slight trembling of the blond’s hand as it raises to his mouth. His other guests are enthralled with either eating their food or conversing about other matters for the moment, and Hitoshi takes the time to really look his new toy over.
Katsuki’s free hand is fisted in his lap and his arm twitches slightly when Hitoshi squeezes his knee. His breathing is slow and even, but his shoulders are tense. Though his brow isn’t as pinched as it had been when he’d arrived and been actively fighting, there’s still a small crease indicating his true feelings, and that just won’t do – not when Hitoshi is striving for perfection.
“He’s very pretty.” Tenya’s eyes graze hungrily over Katsuki’s skin, and it sparks something almost possessive in Hitoshi.
Hitoshi can’t help but run his hand up Katsuki’s arm. “I paid quite a large sum for him. I wanted to keep him intact.”
“Really?” Shouto’s brow raises slightly as he leans back in his chair. “That seems dangerous.”
“What is his quirk?” Tenya adjusts his glasses before removing them completely and cleaning them for what must be the third time this evening.
Hitoshi’s thin lips curl up into a smile. This is exactly the opening he’s been waiting for – the perfect opportunity to show off everything he can do for these rich assholes. “Katsuki, show these lovely people your quirk – small scale only. I don’t want to be buying new drapes again.”
Katsuki sets his chopsticks down and holds up his hand for the group to see. It starts small, simple sparks dancing around on his palm and then a flash of light and fire explodes up towards the ceiling. With his current directive executed, Katsuki’s hand returns to his lap, the food on his plate completely forgotten.
“That is dangerous.” Shouto watches Katsuki warily. “Why keep such a dangerous quirk intact?”
“Why do you own a tiger?” Momo counters, leaning forward and pinning Katsuki under an intense, onyx gaze before turning to Hitoshi. “How did you convince them to let you keep his quirk?”
“Call it a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Hitoshi smiles before turning to Katsuki. “You seem to have eaten your fill. Why don’t you clear the table and work on the dishes?”
Katsuki obediently does as he’s told, and Hitoshi turns his full attention to his guests. “Normally, I’m a firm believer of taking a slave’s quirk – more for the cause. But Katsuki is special. He presented the unique challenge of having a deadly quirk and having a very strong mental fortitude. I’ve never had anyone resist their training as much as he does.”
“I’m not sure I follow you.” Tenya watches Katsuki as he moves about the table, gathering plates and other dishes. “Are you saying he’s not fully trained?”
“Indeed. I’m only about eighty percent done with his training.” Hitoshi relishes in the knowledge that these rich scumbags are eating out of the palm of his hand. They flinch now when Katsuki comes close, afraid of the power that had been hidden amongst them this whole time. He really is the perfect showpiece. “I can provide you with a unique service. Most training, nowadays, comes in the form of negative reinforcement and physical punishment. It can take months, even years to break your new toy to the point where your risks are negated. Not to mention, those methods can leave your toys with ugly scars on their bodies and trauma that makes them unpredictable. But–”
A loud clink of the dishes interrupts him as Katsuki stumbles. His toy’s movements should be flawless, and this is the second time tonight where the blond has stumbled. Maybe this was a bit early. Hitoshi shoos the errant thought away and continues on with his sales pitch. “What if I told you that I could get your toys – both old and new to the point where you could take them out in public? Or send them unattended to the grocery store?”
Hitoshi doesn’t give them the chance to answer, just continues on with his sales pitch. “I can even build in subconscious commands. Katsuki, for example – should he leave the house without my permission, he’ll start to feel ill. By the time he’d make it to the driveway, he’d be convulsing and–”
“Has he ever made it that far?” Shouto is turned around his seat, watching Katsuki in disbelief.
Hitoshi leans back in his seat and finishes off the last sip of wine in his glass. “He made it to the door once. He’s never tried again. The thought of even trying to run away is so powerful that it will make him ill. You see, it’s all about reinforcing commands. For example, whenever I use Katsuki’s name it reminds him that he belongs to me. Makes him want to stay.”
“You can really do that? You can take away even their desire to leave?” Momo’s eyes grow wide, looking towards the kitchen and then at Hitoshi.
They finally get it. They finally understand. “I can make them perfect.”
Katsuki can hear them talking from the kitchen while his hands work. Each dish is cleaned and dried and set aside. He likes menial tasks like this. It makes him feel almost normal again and he craves even just the smallest window into his old life. He can hear the front door closing, knows the guests are leaving, but he can’t turn around. Turning around to look isn’t part of his task. He can hear footsteps behind him and still he can’t turn around.
Hitoshi’s arm wraps around his waist and soft kisses are pressed to his neck. His captor’s hand runs down his arm, turning Katsuki’s hand over in his. “You’re trembling, Katsuki. I think it’s time for another lesson, don’t you?”
He wants to beg and plead, but all that slips past his lips is a polite, “Yes, sir.”
He follows Hitoshi of his own accord. He can still fight the training right now. He hasn’t been given a command to follow his captor, but he holds onto the hope that if he just continues to obey, he can convince Hitoshi that he’s trained enough, and he’ll finally get his opening.
He hesitates in the doorway of the bedroom, watching as Hitoshi loosens his tie. He feels rooted to the spot as he watches Hitoshi strip. The man is all pale skin and muscle – his body littered with scars that Katsuki has memorized. He can’t help but wonder what could have been if this man had been a hero.
“Do you like what you see, Katsuki?” Hitoshi holds his hand and Katsuki reluctantly steps forward to take it.
Katsuki catches sight of himself in the mirror and his cheeks flush warm. His chest is bare, his own scars on display for anyone to see. The skirt he’d been forced to wear is black with a few small, orange Xs embroidered along the hem. His fists clench angrily at the mockery that’s been made of him.
“I asked you a question, Katsuki.” Hitoshi’s words pull him from his thoughts, and he realizes too late that he either hasn’t heard or doesn’t remember the question. Hitoshi tuts at him gently. “Naughty boy, not paying attention. I’ll ask you again. Do you think you can fight me, Katsuki?”
“No, sir.” The moment the words leave his lips, his vision is flooded with warm, purple light.
“You lied to me, Katsuki.” Hitoshi moves behind him, large hands roaming over his shoulders, massaging the tight muscles there. “Your tenseness gives you away. The trembling in your hands and the furrow in your brow. Everything you do shows me that you’re trying to hold onto your old life.”
Katsuki’s arms hang limply at his sides while Hitoshi maneuvers him around the room. He wills his fingers to move – just a twitch – but nothing. He knows he can’t overcome the brainwashing but still, he has to try.
Hitoshi looms in front of him once again, his thin lips drawn into a cruel smile. “Do you think I can’t feel you scratching at my control, Katsuki?”
Sharp teeth nip at his neck and shoulders, and yet Katsuki can feel his own desire to leave slipping through his fingers.
Hitoshi’s teeth bite harder, sucking a deep purple mark into Katsuki’s shoulder. “I could wipe your mind if I wanted to. I could leave you nothing more than a hollowed-out shell. A catatonic little ragdoll sitting on a street corner. Is that what you want, Katsuki?”
“No.” He can feel the warmth on his cheek. Deku will find me. He won’t give up.
Hitoshi’s thumb wipes away the salty wetness of the blond’s tears. “Tell me that you’re mine, Katsuki.”
“I’m yours.” His response is immediate, prompting Hitoshi to press a kiss to his lips.
“You were such a good boy today. Do you really want to fight me now?”
“No.” Katsuki sobs inside. Slamming his fists against the wall of his mind. It can’t be true. I don’t want this. Deku will… The thought falls from his mind. Deku… He tries to chase it but falters each time. His thoughts start to feel soft and far away. Relax.
“Isn’t it easier to just relax, kitten?” Hitoshi’s breath is hot against his ear.
Katsuki feels the tension in his shoulders ease away as he’s pulled towards the bed. When Hitoshi drops his hand, he stands like a puppet with its strings cut, watching as his master gets settled on the bed. Hitoshi’s cock lays thick and hard between his legs and he strokes it lazily, watching Katsuki as he stands, limp.
“Why don’t you enjoy yourself tonight, kitten?”
No. No. No… Katsuki crawls onto the bed between Hitoshi’s legs. His hands take over, stroking the man’s cock before wrapping his lips around the head. The salty taste of pre washes over his tongue as he works the thick length down his throat. Hitoshi grunts above him, his hips rocking up gently while his fingers tangle in soft, blond hair. Deku…
Hitoshi grinds his hips upwards, forcing more of his length down Katsuki’s throat. “You like that, don’t you, kitten?”
He isn’t given a chance to answer as Hitoshi rocks back up into his throat. Katsuki pays it little mind, swallowing eagerly around it while his fingers tease up under his skirt to toy with the plug nestled in his ass. He works it slowly in and out, rocking it against his prostate and moaning at the pleasure that sparks through his veins before finally pulling it out. I want… Katsuki is pulled off Hitoshi’s cock with an audible pop. Drool leaks down his chin as he stares up at the man with vacant eyes, waiting for his next task.
“I told you to enjoy yourself, Katsuki.”
Katsuki’s eyes flutter closed at Hitoshi’s words. He needs no more prompting to climb farther up Hitoshi’s body and straddle him. He lines the head of Hitoshi’s cock up and slowly sinks down. A small moan escapes his lips at the burn of that fat cock stretching him. Hitoshi lets him go slow, lets him enjoy every inch as it sinks inside him. And once he’s fully seated, Hitoshi lets him set the pace. Katsuki braces himself on his master’s chest as he lifts and drops his hips, chasing his own pleasure.
Hitoshi flips the dark skirt up to watch Katsuki’s cock bounce. He runs his thumb over the tip, gathering the clear fluid leaking from the blond’s slit and brings it to his lips. “Sweet as ever, Katsuki.”
That warm feeling wraps around his mind and Katsuki closes his eyes, moaning at the feeling of Hitoshi’s hand enveloping his cock. All he has to do is focus on his pleasure, on the steady lift and drop of his hips, on the thick cock dragging along his walls, filling him, and on the warm hands stroking him. The coil in his gut winds tighter and tighter until it finally snaps and he’s spilling over Hitoshi’s hand and onto that pale muscular stomach beneath him.
The world around him comes back into focus while he’s still riding the high of release. Hitoshi’s hands have moved to his hips, gripping him tightly as he fucks up into Katsuki’s fluttering insides. The man doesn’t last long before his hips are stuttering and he’s pulling Katsuki down against him, burying his cock as deep as it will go and painting his insides white.
The chest he’s pulled against is sweaty, rising and falling with each panted breath. Hitoshi’s hands are warm, his fingers rubbing small, slow circles over his pet’s back while he presses soft kisses into blond hair. Katsuki feels boneless, his mind hazy, and he can’t shake the feeling that he’d had a very important thought that he can’t seem to remember. His brow pinches together as he tries to retrace his thoughts. He groans softly at the headache that starts to build, and he buries his face against Hitoshi’s chest.
Hitoshi presses one last kiss to Katsuki’s hair before brushing the bangs out of his pet’s face and looking down into crimson eyes. “Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?”
Katsuki hums softly, his eyes fluttering closed as Hitoshi’s lips meet his. All worry about his lost thoughts forgotten in the warmth of his master’s arms.