Stehlen Sie

Author's Note: This is my first contribution to AFF, so... well, go as easy on me as you'd like x'3 I would really love reviews of any kind! Challenges would be a blast, too ;'3 Please enjoy!



I’m right behind her.

I’ve been sitting at this club for hours, idly scanning its patrons’ deepest, darkest desires, and let me tell you- there are some fucked up individuals in this world. It’s one thing to see the deeds and misdeeds of our fellow human beings on the evening news. It’s quite another to be there in their nightmare dream, doing those things, feeling them… tasting them. Nevertheless, I’ve found her: the perfect prey.

She’s lithe and fair, with princess lips and witch’s hair, both claret and full; a gaijin, American. Here for college- how cute. Her skin is pale and I’m amazed it hasn’t bruised already simply from the force of my gaze. She’s naïve and sweet and very much afraid of herself. She’s very aware of what it is that has attracted me to her; she doesn’t know how lucky she is to have it.

Her hair smells like watermelon and I get a glimpse of her in the grocery store, picking up the shampoo bottle, thinking of her hair, and smiling. God, how adorable. For the first time this evening, my cock begins to stir as I follow her out of the club and into the dark, hunting the smell of her hair.

She glances down the street and thinks briefly of hiring a cab. But the night is so fine that she decides to walk before I need to dissuade her. I would have been gentle about it too. Just as I’m regretting the opportunity to steal into her mind, she starts down the street- in the wrong direction for me. It takes a clever trick, but I manage to convince her that her apartment is the other way. It’s as I thought. Her mind tastes like some kind of sweet fruit or berry. I’ve never been much of a fruit man, but I like it on her. She shakes her head, laughing out loud at her imagined silliness. Her laughter is high and ringing.

Oh, Jesus, I want her. Want to hear that sound stretched out and loud, her lips parted wide in a cry as I pound her.

I lick my lips and fall in behind her, my steps matching hers, and little by little I allow her to feel my presence. Not physically; although she hasn’t drunk tonight, she’s too happy and secure at the moment to feel threatened by any shade dogging her stride. But I feed my consciousness into hers bit by bit until all of a sudden she staggers under the unrealized mental strain. I catch her when she does, one hand under her elbow, my arm encircling her waist, both sinister and supportive in the way it snakes around her perfect torso. She gasps in alarm, twists her head to look at me. Her eyes are bright and green, and very large. She surprises me then by immediately struggling to get away. She must have a bit of telepathy in her, then, to match the immaterial presence in her head with the apparent Good Samaritan holding her. I have to tighten my grip to keep her still. It’s all right, though. I see the car only a few yards away.

“Let go,” she hisses. “If you let go now, I won’t scream.”

“Baby,” I say, “You might want to save that for later.”

True to her word, as I drag her to the car she begins to shriek. She twists, manages to get an arm free, claws at me. I haven’t had one with this much spunk in a long time; by the time I shove her into the backseat my cock is so hard it hurts. And we haven’t even gotten started.

Despite her sinewy strength, she’s still smaller than me and I’m much stronger. Plus, I’ve done this before. She’s underneath me on the seat, trying to pull her knees up and kick but I’m too low on her for that. She’s still screaming and I have to work fast, finding the ropes on the floor and wrestling her hands together. I tie them to the bottom of the driver’s seat, leaving enough length so that she can rest fairly comfortably on the bench-like backseat without being able to raise her head above the window. That done, I position myself over her knees, holding her legs down with my weight as I bind her ankles together.

“All set?” I pat her ass cheerfully as I clamber out the back and into the driver’s seat. The whole scene had taken less than three minutes; I’m fast and good at this. The first eager rescuer comes running up to the car just as I gun the engine and shoot out of the alley.

As soon as the car begins to move, her screams stop. Smart girl. Save your energy. She lies there panting and I can feel her shuddering breaths in my mind. I wish, not for the first time, for telekinesis like Nagi’s so I can fuck with her while I drive.
“How about some music, lovely?” Nine Inch Nails fills the car, playing insidiously low. Another few minutes pass in relative silence. I feel her weighing her options and watch her in the rearview mirror.

“Why me?” she finally asks.

“That’s an interesting question to start with,” I say. “For starters, because you’re ravishingly beautiful…” She barely keeps from retching and I smirk, wishing she could see me. I must admit, I look damn sexy when I smirk.

“There are lots of people in there more pretty than I am,” she says when she regains her cool.

“Did you take some kind of class or something? What to do when kidnapped by a mysteriously fine stranger?” I chuckle at her. “Precious, you know why I picked you. I picked you because I know you’re going to love this.”

“How could you possibly know that?” she argues. Her voice is heavy with fear and doubt; the sound of it is absolutely delicious.

I don’t answer her, instead announcing, “We’re here.”

‘Here’ is an old warehouse. Crawford had considered using it as our headquarters when we first moved to Tokyo, but abandoned it in favor of our swanky penthouse. The man loves magnificence and I can’t blame him.

The overhead door rises as I press the remote. I guide the car inside and wait until the door has closed again completely before going around to the back of the car. She lies remarkably still, moving only to keep her eyes on me. That’s right, baby, watch me. I’m not so bad at all, am I?

I wonder if she’s already wet.

I untie the rope attached to the driver’s seat and pull her gently out of the car and into my arms. Cradled like a child, she rests there as I carry her into an office. Some months ago, I threw out the ancient desk and filing cabinets and brought in a bed- four post, of course.

“Rather a homey setup, don’t you think?” I ask as she turns her head to take in the room.

It’s the sight of the bed that sets her off. “No!” she screams, twisting so much that I nearly drop her. Gripping her tighter still, I kick the door shut with one foot and am across the room in two long strides, dropping her on the bed with enough force to knock the wind out of her. I take advantage of her momentary immobility and pull the knife from its sheath in the back of my jeans. The sight of it prolongs her rabbit-like fright and she freezes as I raise her wrists and slash the rope binding them together. She begins to fight again as I drop the knife to the side of the bed, and I climb onto her chest, once again holding her down with my weight as I catch her flailing hands one after the other and chain them to the posts above her head with the conveniently placed handcuffs.

I take a moment to admire my prey, taut and straining beneath me, her face mere inches from my cock. Finally.
“We’re here, precious,” I hiss, taking a handful of that thick hair in my fist. I force her face against my crotch, rubbing her cheek against it. The tears she’s fought back since I hauled her to the car begin to flow in earnest now. I slide down her body until my face is level with hers. Placing my hands on either side of her face, I lick away her tears, my tongue flickering teasingly over her closed eyes. She shudders, her face trapped in my grip. Oh god, this is better than I had imagined.

I trail my hands lightly down her neck, all the way to her waist, where I slip them under her tank top and begin to inch it up.

“Ohh,” she moans, tossing her head.

“Let me see those tits,” I murmur, kissing her firm stomach. She sobs helplessly as I reach over to pick up the knife. “You’d better be glad Farfarello isn’t here, precious.” I lay the cool metal against her burning cheek and her eyes fly open, liquid clinging to the long lashes, then use it to slice her shirt up the center. I arrange the flaps of fabric on the bed beneath her; they look curiously like pixie wings. I use the knife again to cut the modest, baby-pink bra off of her. This I remove completely, flinging it across the room. I fucking hate bras. Only then do I allow myself to take a good look at her breasts. They’re cute, smallish, and perky, just as I knew they would be. The nipples are astonishingly pink and very hard. I finger one idly, massaging the other breast just hard enough to be uncomfortable. She whines and appears to be trying to burrow into the bed.

“You want me to suck them, baby?” I murmur.

“St- stop it,” she gasps. But I want to suck them; it’s only fair, as she’ll be returning the favor in a little while. They’re as sweet as the rest of her. I lick one playfully before taking it into my mouth, nipping it lightly and sucking. After a little while, I take my mouth off it and blow softly, the cool air making it even harder after my hot mouth. I move onto the other one, one hand on the first and my other hand snaking down to toy with the top of her jeans, tracing the skin above it and every now and then slipping just below the waistline.

A little reluctantly, I sit up and move down to her ankles. One foot is missing a sandal; the toes are painted a childishly bright purple color and I inwardly crow with delight. She couldn’t be more perfect. I remove the other sandal and begin to work at the rope binding her ankles. I’m pleased to see bruises already forming there.

“What are you doing?” she whimpers. I can feel her legs tensing through the jeans.

“I love the polish.” I slip the ropes off and her legs are free. She immediately tries to kick out at me, but I’m ready for it. “I wasn’t born yesterday, baby,” I warn, seizing her slender ankles. I position myself between her straining legs and undo the button on her jeans, leaning over and tracing my tongue around the edge of them before unzipping them all the way.

“Please,” she moans, lifting her head to plead me with her eyes. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Keep moaning like that,” I tell her, “It’s all the incentive I need.” I work the jeans off, over her cute little ass and down her legs. She’s wearing boy shorts that match her bra, baby-pink and patterned with little lilac hearts. They fit her perfectly, molding to her body like a second skin.

I leave a track of quick kisses around the hem of them, trailing the soft insides of her thighs with my fingertips. Goddamn, I can’t take much more of this waiting, but it’s worth it just to hear the delicious sounds coming from her slightly parted lips. I resist the urge to crack a joke about seeing if the drapes match the curtains; humor during sex is great with, say, Crawford, because he needs to be reminded that he’s not as important as he thinks he is. But it would ruin the mood here, and besides…

I slip one hand under the panties and meet smooth skin. “Oh, precious,” I murmur, wanting to rip those shorts off and fuck her ten ways till Tuesday. “Oh, sugar, you shaved, you wicked thing.”

She blushes crimson enough to match her hair. “It wasn’t for you,” she manages to grit out.

I laugh merrily. Jesus, she’s adorable. “Sure thing, baby.”

Once again I lean over the side of the bed and pick up the knife. I slip it under the hem of her panties, careful not to mar her lovely skin. I’ve never had the lust for blood Farfarello has. With one vicious upstroke, I cut them open. The sight of her, arching up with the knife despite herself, makes me fling it away and rip the rest of the panties off with my hands. She cries out at the ferocity of my motions and starts to struggle again.

I place one hand on her stomach, pressing down, and the other pinches a nipple hard. “Lay still,” I order. The sudden, concentrated pain in her breast makes her pause and listen. She obeys reluctantly, her breathing fast. She looks amazing, lying naked and utterly helpless under me. “Good girl,” I say, placing a hand between her legs.

For the first time, I let a moan slip out of my own mouth. Oh Jesus, she’s so wet. I rub her clit, enjoying immensely the conflict on her face, the sighs and murmurs she makes. “You like that, don’t you?” She bites her lip and shakes her head vehemently, her hair flying. “Liar,” I tease. I plunge my middle finger into her pussy. She arches her back and cries out. It’s hot and tight and only the strictest control on my part keeps me from forcing my cock in there and fucking her the good old fashioned way.

“Oh, god,” she whimpers. I put another finger inside her, gauging how much she would need to be stretched so I wouldn’t tear her.

“Want me to go down on you, baby?” I ask. She makes some wordless noise which is obvious a fervent repudiation. “Don’t worry,” I reassure her, lowering my face between her legs, “You’ll love it.” I trace my tongue in figure eights over her pussy, savoring the taste of it. She shivers violently, her hips moving of their own accord ever so slightly. I do admire her restraint. I remember the first time Crawford fucked me; he wasn’t a third as attentive as I’m being to her and I still pumped my hips against his even as he was trying to take me by force. Yeah, whatever Crawford.

I push my first two fingers, then a third, inside her as I begin to focus my ministrations on her clit alone. She wriggles and her moans become louder. This is too good; she’s so sweet. I slip briefly into the surface of her mind, surprised to see how close she is already to coming, and pause.

“Not yet, precious,” I breathe, my voice low with craving her.

“Oh god,” she says again as I sit up and get off the bed. “Please stop.”

I pull my shirt off over my head, standing beside the bed so she can see me. I mean, even I like to look at myself. I take great pride in my body; lean, long, and muscled. Okay, so I’ve got a couple of scars but I’m a hardcore individual; I am a badass sexy assassin, damn it. And they’re attention-getting. She certainly notices them. I run my fingers absently along one of the deeper ones. “You like them, precious?” She turns her head. “Stubborn,” I scorn. “Look at me, baby.”

She refuses. I reach out, grabbing a fistful of hair again and forcing her head toward me. “Fucking look at me,” I growl, using my other hand to pull off my jeans. There’s nothing but me underneath them. My cock is pretty damn nice to begin with, and this is one hell of an erection. Her eyes go wide in anticipation and fear, and something else. “You want it, don’t you, baby? Want me to fuck your mouth, right?”

“No, please,” she begs, pulling away. I hold her still by her hair, climbing on top of her.

“Fuck yes, you do,” I say, bringing my cock to her mouth. I rub it on her lips and watch her tongue dart out on its own to lick the precum away. I smile to myself and force it into her mouth, moaning a little as I do. “Don’t bite me, baby,” I warn. She groans deep in her throat. “It’s okay, precious. You can suck it. I know you want to.” The tears which had momentarily ceased start flowing again in earnest as she tries to breathe around my cock. Those gorgeous, full lips close around it bitterly.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Use your tongue, baby.” She does, swirling it around the underside and tip, the tears flowing down her face. Christ, this is so good. I’m going to be jacking off to this image for a long time. “Deep-throat me, precious,” I instruct, taking her head in my hands again. She sputters, obviously trying to talk, and I remove myself from her mouth.

“I can’t,” she manages, voice thick with tears, trying to free her head. “Don’t make me do that.”

“Too late for that, sugar,” I say. “You love this; I’ll skullfuck you raw if I want to and you’ll still want more.” Her eyes go even wider and as she opens her mouth to protest I force my cock all the way in. She chokes on it, trying to jerk her head back. My cock goes all the way into the back of her throat and I start to pump my hips, fucking her throat. At first she’s shocked at my sudden brutality; then she makes a major mistake: she bites. Not very hard, but enough to anger me. I pull out, my hand raising back and slapping her hard. She cries out and flinches away.

“I told you not to fucking bite,” I snarl.

“I- I couldn’t breathe!” she protests, squirming under me.

“Then hold your goddamn breath,” I say, relishing her extreme discomfort. “Say you’re sorry.”

“Wh-what?”

“Fucking apologize.”

She’s astonished- and angry. “No!”

I laugh at her, putting my face close to hers, using her gorgeous hair again to capture her. “Tell me you’re sorry,” I say softly. “Tell me just how sorry you are.” I lick her lips. I want to kiss her, claim her mouth with my tongue the way I had with my cock. “You like it when I’m gentle with you, right? When it’s tender?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, her lips so sensitive. I kiss them softly. She’s so mine.

“Just say it, baby,” I say. “I know you didn’t want to hurt me.”

“No,” she repeats softly, her eyes closed in this brief respite.

“You’re so stubborn,” I say exasperatedly. I rear back and uncuff her hands. Before she knows what I’m doing, I’ve flipped her over, chained her again, and slipped her over my lap. Sitting with my back against the wall, I raise her ass slightly, savoring the sight of her peering over her shoulder at me in bewilderment. “Ever been spanked, precious?” I ask casually.

Her objection turns into a cry of pain as I hit her. She wriggles in my lap and I spank her again, running my hand over her perfect ass and between her legs to casually finger her pussy. “Are you sorry yet?”

“No,” she chokes out, burying her face into the bed in shame. I hit her again, harder, and again. Her ass is bright red now, and I keep hitting her.

“Tell me, sugar. Tell me how sorry you are and I’ll stop.” The ringing sound of the slaps fills the room and begins to synch with her sobs.

“Stop it!” she cries out.

I’m beside her in an instant, pulling her head back by her hair and claiming her mouth with mine. I force her lips open and explore her mouth with my tongue. To my delight, she kisses back for a moment until she realizes what she’s doing and pulls away.

I smirk at her. “That’s more like it, precious.”

“Go to hell,” she snarls. I resume spanking her, harder now than before. It’s not long before she mumbles something desperately.

“What’s that?” I pause mid-blow.

“’M sorry.”

“What for?”

“For biting you,” she mutters, her face as scarlet as her ass.

“Good girl.” I consider her ass a moment longer. “What if I fucked you from behind?” I put a finger inside her pussy again. “Would you like that, baby?”

She lies silent and still, only twitching a little as I finger her.

It’s tempting, but I want to watch her face. There’s always later.

As quickly as before, I readjust her, flipping her over and chaining her up again. I reposition myself over her. “I’m going to skullfuck you again, baby.” She whimpers a little as I hold her head in my hands. “I want you to relax. You’re fighting me and it’s just making it harder for you. Just calm down.” I slip my cock into her mouth and nudge it down her throat. She tenses despite my instructions, but at least she doesn’t bite. I fuck her face as considerately as I can for several minutes. “Mm, precious,” I moan, pumping into her face. “You want me to come in your mouth? Want to feel my cum in your throat?” Her eyes roll and she clenches her fists. As I come close to orgasm, I pull out and release her hair. She immediately turns her head to the side, coughing and breathing deeply.

I slide down her body again, lying next to her lengthwise. I play lazily with her nipples and nuzzle her neck. “Ready to get fucked?” I ask, nipping lightly at the taut skin beneath her jaw.

“Please don’t do that to me,” she pleads, her voice hoarse and dry, trying to curl into a ball. I roll on top of her, rubbing my swollen cock on her stomach. Even that small friction is nigh on unbearable.

“Want me to lick your pussy first?” She whips her head from side to side even as I lower my face between her legs and go to work. It’s still very wet; I was worried about that for a minute. Mere seconds after my tongue begins to stroke her clit, she cries out and comes, hips rising, her body tight and straining. Damn it; I hadn’t realized how close she already was. “Oh, baby,” I say, delicately rubbing her hot clit. “Oh, precious, you got to come before me, you lucky thing.”

“Ohhh, oh god,” she groans, still writhing a little. I raise myself up, grasp her hips, and finally plunge my cock into her.

She screams, her overly tender pussy ultra-sensitive to me. She tries to get away, my cock hurting her. She’s so tight, so hot and wet and just as absolutely delectable as I had hoped. Oh god, yeah, this was worth waiting for, her hips straining under mine, wanting it and hating herself for wanting it. I start off slowly at first, my movements smooth and fluid, but the more I have of her the more I lose control. It isn’t long before I’m fucking her fast and hard, driving my cock deep into her. Her cries fill my head and I realize that I’m moaning in time with my thrusts.

“You love it, don’t you, baby?” I pant, my hands wandering up her sides to massage her breasts. I lean down and take a nipple in my mouth, biting it, unrestrained now. She tenses and bows against me, caught up in the fuck as much as I am. “It feels so good, doesn’t it?” I mutter into her breast.

She shudders and tries to shake her head in denial, still fighting me. I pull out of her, noting her pained gasp, uncuff her wrists once again, and turn her over. Harshly, I haul her ass up before my cock without bothering to chain her up again. I drive my cock into her, punishing her, fucking her as hard as I can. Her hands now free, she makes an attempt to scramble away. I grab her hair and pull, forcing her up on all fours, then use my other hand to clasp both of hers behind her back so that she falls forward on her face. After a little while I release her hair, keeping her hands clasped behind her back, and use my free hand to slap her already-sore ass. Her cries are intense with pain and pleasure; my cock hurts and thrills her, pummeling her from behind.

“How does it feel, precious?” I demand, feeling my orgasm building.

“Oh my god,” she sobs, trying to free her hands from my iron grip. “Please stop!”

“’Cause it feels fucking amazing from this end, baby,” I hiss in her ear, releasing her wrists and lowering my body over hers, my hands planted by her shoulders. She doesn’t even try to get away. Her mouth is open as she pants and moans and sobs, her eyes closed tight as if that will keep me from her. “How’s it feel to you?” I grasp one of her tits, kneading it cruelly, then draw her up on her knees, both of us upright now, still hammering into her with my cock. “How’s it feel like this?” I hold her tightly to my chest, gripping her breasts.

“It- ah, god! It hurts!” she moans. Her head lolls back onto my shoulder and her breath stirs my hair. I pull out of her. Using her tits to maneuver her, I lie on my back and position her above me.

“Want to ride me, baby?” I ask, bucking my hips and raising her in the air.

“Nooo.” She protests and tries to get off, but I squeeze her tits ruthlessly and force her onto my waiting cock.

She screams as it enters her more completely than ever before, and I almost lose control, it’s so good. Her pussy sheaths me completely. “Oh yeah, precious,” I say, moving against her. “Fucking ride me.” She remains motionless but for her uncontrollable shuddering, her little hands on my chest.

I grip her hips and guide them. “When I tell you to ride me, baby, you better goddamn fucking ride me,” I growl, craving the feeling of moving inside her. Reluctantly at first, she grinds on top of me, crying out with each pump up and down. Soon she moves faster, that lithe body working. I admire the sight of her flawless breasts bouncing lightly, her head thrown back, her animal sounds wringing out from lips bitten in concentration. I slip into her mind again to check how far along she is and am pleased to see that we’re both almost there. Without warning, I seize her upper arms and throw her onto her back, my cock within her the whole time as our positions reverse.

“Don’t lie to me, baby: you want to come?” I ask, pounding her faster than ever.

I see the struggle on her face- the consuming physical need and the rational mind. “Yes,” she half-screams, her throat raw from the fucking I gave it and the sounds she’s been making. “God, please yes, I wanna come!”

“Tell me how it fucking feels,” I say through gritted teeth. Oh god, I’m so close; we’re both so close. With one hand, I pin her wrists above her head. The other goes to her pussy, rubbing her clit.

“Aahhh!” She twists and bucks beneath me. “Oh god, it feels good- it feels so good!” I pound into her one last time and come as she screams out the confession. She comes too, my semen shooting into her pussy, hot and searing. I roll off her, exhausted, and we lie there for several minutes, catching our breath.

I sit up and look at her; she’s curled into a little ball and weeping, hugging her knees to her chest. I consider her for a little while. I almost stroke her hair. She begins to quiet soon.

“I’ll take you back.” Standing, I locate my clothes and her pants, which I hand to her. She takes them silently and puts them on. I put my own jeans on, then give her my shirt, as hers was destroyed. Watching her pull the fabric over herself, knowing there was nothing but a single layer of fabric between me and all of her makes me want to take her again. Instead, I pull her into my arms quickly and effortlessly and kiss her deeply. She reciprocates, bringing her hands up to feel my naked chest and its scars. My cock stirs and she feels it and breaks away, startled and ashamed.

“Come on,” I say. We go back to the car. She sits in the passenger’s seat, staring unthinkingly out of the window the whole ride back. I retrieve the location of her apartment from her unguarded mind and bring her to the building. Unquestioning, she lets herself out of the car and goes into it without a single word or glance back.

Back at the penthouse, Nagi raises an eyebrow at my shirtless appearance, sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. Farfarello, seated across from him, looks pointedly at my hair. “Sex hair,” he says.

“Yes, Farf,” I acknowledge. Nagi shrugs and returns to his cereal and Farfarello grins brashly. I go to my room, passing Crawford’s on the way. A light is on; he’s reading in bed. He doesn’t know how endearing he can be.

“Schuldich.”

“Yes, fearless leader.” Charming as Crawford in bed is, I’m beat. I want my own bed tonight.

He looks at me over the top of his glasses and I resist the urge to snark something about looking like a librarian. I expect a lecture on caution or something.

“The next time you use up the toilet paper, I insist that you replace it with a new roll.”

I blink at him in disbelief.

“Am I understood?” He sets the thick tome he was reading down in his lap expectantly.

“Right,” I say. “No problem.”

He clears his throat delicately. “Good night, Schuldich.”

I can’t resist grinning at him before heading into my room. “’Night, handsome.”

His birthday’s coming up; maybe I’ll bring him a present.