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Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART SEVEN

Ken goes to therapy. He has a lotta feelings okay. Very Ken centric chapter. (Yay?) and (possibly) some of the most intense sex I’ve written sooo…let’s go. Probably the longest chapter I’ve written this far, too.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / there’s always smut there’s never not smut / lots of angst and angry feelings (Ken is trying to process all those hard human things because they’re getting to be too intense for him) / violent imaginative fears (domestic fighting, one instance of hitting 🛑 tread softly if you might be triggered by this (I don’t want anyone triggered or hurt!!)) / nightmares / rough sex / major overstim / size kink / sex toys / anal fingering / possessiveness / lots of crying tbh (Ken is emotional af) / dom!Ken / possibly bordering on some non-con ? Depending on how you view it / fuzzy sweet aftercare

Ken sat opposite the therapist, twiddling his thumbs, staring down at the floor. Occasionally he glanced up at the doctor sitting across from him, a kindly middle aged man (you had suggested he talk to a male therapist, saying maybe in some weird way it would help him deal with jealousy when having to be emotionally open with another man in the room), and he gave Ken a small smile.

“So when this strong jealous hits, what does it feel like?” The therapist asked. He had sensed Ken’s anxiety the moment he walked in the door and opted out of the sitting-with-the-clipboard-for-notes option, instead sitting comfortably in his chair, hoping a conversation-style approach would set Ken at ease.

“It’s like I’ll cease to exist if she leaves me.”

“And does anything help with that?”

“Sex does, kinda. Sometimes a lot, sometimes only for a minute.”

“Have you talked with your partner about it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did that go?”

“She reassured me. She does every single time.”

“So this has become a consistent conversation?”

Ken paused, picking at nothing on his jeans. “I guess.”

“When was the last time you felt this way?”

“A couple days ago.”

“Did anything in particular happen to trigger it?”

“She’s having to take a class and her ex is in it.”

“Ahhhh.” The therapist mused, letting the silence sit for just a moment. “And you are worried about that?”

“I’m not worried she would do anything intentionally.”

“You’re afraid her former feelings might return for him, though.”

Ken nodded. “Yeah. I get she wouldn’t be able to help that, though. Feelings happen.”

“This is very true. Are you concerned about what might happen if those feelings return? Do you worry she would actually act on them?”

Ken frowned deeply. “I don’t think she would without talking to me first. But I don’t want them happening at all. The feelings, I mean. Because then there’s nothing I can….do.” The last word fell out as a whisper.

“You feel helpless in the relationship?” The therapist asked gently.

“Not…I.., I don’t know.”

“Have you ever been cheated on?”

“No. This is my first relationship.”

The therapist nodded. “Worries about someone leaving you are actually pretty normal, especially the first time you’re with someone.”

“Y/n told me that.”

“Has she ever shown any indication that she wants to leave you? Or that she ever might cheat on you?”

“No. I understand it’s all in my head. It still scares me, though.”

“Can I ask why you decided to come to me today? I assume this is the first time you’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah…she’s just taking a lot of classes and she gets really stressed sometimes, especially because finals are like a month away.”

“I can understand that. You feel like your jealousy is interfering with her ability to study?”

“It stresses her out more.” Ken bit his lip. “I don’t want to do that to her.”

“So are you worried less about her randomly cheating on you, and more that you are pushing her away from you? Or, encouraging her potentially into the arms of another because she is getting stressed with how you handle your jealousy?”

Fuck. Ken hadn’t thought of it that way before. Now he was even more frightened.

When Ken didn’t answer, just stared down at the carpet, the therapist tried again. “It’s okay to be struggling with how you’re feeling. The fact that you’re working to understand why is healthy, it’s a great move on your part. It also shows her that you want to be supportive of her, and I’m sure that makes her less stressed.”

“I feel like sometimes I’m a bad person.”

“Why is that?”

“I hurt someone I care about before. She didn’t want me, and I….I tried to hurt her. I wanted to feel like I was in charge for once, but I was cruel.”

“Can I ask what you did?”

“It’s a long story.”

“That’s alright. You can tell me about it when you’re ready to.” The therapist paused, working to see how much he might be able to get Ken to explain without pressuring him and making him shut down. “Can I ask, when did this happen with your former friend?”

“Well, she’s still my friend, I guess. She’s really nice. But we don’t see each other.”

“I see.”

“It happened, I don’t know, maybe a half a year ago.”

“Was it around here?”

Ken shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Have you ever taken y/n to where that happened? Or revisited the area alone, just to see how the memories made you feel?”

Ken’s chest tightened. “No.”

“Do you think that is something you might be able to do? Sometimes being back in a physical place where we wronged someone can help us find closure, especially if the one we hurt has forgiven us, but we have been unable to forgive ourselves.”

“I don’t want to.” Ken quickly wiped away a small tear forming, pretending it was something in his eye.

“Do you think y/n would understand if you told her?”

“I’ve told her a little. She wasn’t upset.”

“Does she know the specifics?”

“Uh…no…she met my friend, though. They liked each other.”

“Well that’s really good. Do you think she might be willing to travel with you, be present with you if you decided to try and gain closure?”

“…..I don’t feel like that’s necessary.”

“Can I ask why?”

Ken was silent for a long time. The therapist respected letting him internally process as long as he needed.

“I just think it’s unnecessary.”

“How do you feel you are working to help the problem right now, other than coming to me? Is there anything you’ve tried?”

“Just sex.”

“And why does sex feel like something that can fix the issue for you?”

“Because I have her then.”

“Have her with you?”

“Have her focused only on me.”

“Does she enjoy those times with you? Do you feel like she gets stressed, maybe feeling like she has to have sex with you so you’ll calm down?”

Well, fuck. Ken hadn’t thought of that. That made him feel even worse, angry, even. Though he couldn’t place where the anger came from….oh, wait.

“No. She likes it. She always likes it.”

The therapist was taken aback slightly by the sudden, minor shift in Ken’s tone, noting the aggression suddenly appearing, but kept his external demeanor. Being surprised was a good thing. It meant his client was starting to break through their emotional barrier.

“And can I ask, why would you talking about her enjoying those sessions be something that makes you feel upset?”

“She has to like them.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s all I have to offer her.” The words tumbled out before Ken’s brain had even fully processed them, and he sat dumbstruck, his own sentence replaying in his head. He felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest.

“Ahhhhh. That sounds like that’s a lot of stress you’re dealing with, too. Feeling like you only have one certain thing of yourself to offer her that she sees as worthy of her time must be exhausting for you.”

Ken worked hard to hold back the new tears that were coming stronger than he knew what to do with.

“Do you feel that she actually only sees you as worth her time because of the sex?”

Ken shook his head genuinely. “No.”

“So that’s another lie you have told yourself.” The therapist kept his tone soft.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to know right now.”

****************************************************

The walk home was torture. He tried so hard to think through everything they’d talked about as “healthily” as he could - the therapist’s words. But all he could think about was silencing everything for just a little while. He thought of getting home to tie you to the bed again and just fuck you for hours. Every time you were lying trapped underneath him was the only time he ever felt like he truly had any control over anything. But maybe today he needed to to be free to move however you pleased, to experience however you would wrap yourself around him or grasp onto his muscles or grab his hair. He could easily still keep you underneath him as long as he wanted with just his body weight.

The closer he got to the front door, however, the more overwhelmed he became, the voices in his head growing louder and louder, and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t even fuck you if he wanted to right now. He felt like he might collapse.

Ken opened the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to alert you he was home. Unfortunately, since the kitchen was very close to the entryway, you heard the moment he stepped inside.

“Hi, baby,” you said, turning while holding your coffee cup.

Ken froze, feeling embarrassed. He still didn’t know why he did, but he had worked to stop crying the entire walk home, without success. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks wet.

“Oh, Ken,” you said, setting down your cup and coming up to him, your hands on his face, your thumbs rubbing across his cheekbones. “It was a hard talk today?”

Ken nodded, hanging his head, his hands wrapping around your wrists. “I feel like I’m nothing to you, but I know better.”

“That’s okay.” Your voice was like a warm tea coating his aching chest. “I know you struggle with that. I can keep reminding you that you mean so much to me.”

“What if…like, I couldn’t offer you sex?”

You cocked your head, confused, but went with it. “I would still love you the same.”

He forced his eyes up to meet yours. “You mean it?”

“MMhmm. I do.”

He sniffed.

“Do you feel like I wouldn’t love you?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down again.

“Do you need some rest? Anytime I get really upset and have cried really hard some time in bed always helps me.”

He nodded, and you took his hand in yours, leading him to the bedroom. You helped him out of his clothes leaving him only in his boxers and went to the closet, pulling something out.

“Here,” you said, walking over to the bed and tossing a huge comforter on top of it. “This is my extra soft, cozy one. I used to use it all the time on really hard days awhile ago. I had forgotten I had it until now.”

He smiled a little then, reaching his hand out to you. You went to sit on the bed next to him, keeping your feet on the floor. You kissed his palm as his hand went to rest of your face.

“I love you so very, very much, my love,” you cooed. “But I need to get back to studying. I have awhile yet to go. I had just taken a short break to make some caffeine when you came home.”

Came home. Okay. Focus on the good things, his therapist had suggested. “Listen to anything that makes you feel safe or calm, try to enjoy the moment while it’s happening. This might help when you get stressed out to remember those times and know you are safe.”

“I’m home with you,” he mumbled.

You didn’t understand but nodded. “Yes. You’re home with me.”

He hummed, snuggling underneath the covers. “Okay.”

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek before picking up your laptop from your desk and picking up a textbook, heading out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You’d study at the kitchen table while he rested.

The home was on fire. Ken rushed through the flames, yelling your name, panic rising every second he couldn’t find you as smoke filled his lungs. Finally he heard you as you screamed, and his heart jumped in his chest as he rounded the corner to find your hands restrained to the wall over your head, blindfolded. You weren’t screaming in terror, you were screaming with pleasure. A faceless man was holding your legs around his waist, fucking up into you violently. It seemed you had no idea about the flames about to consume you, or maybe even who the man was. Ken tried to make his legs moved, begged them to, but he was stuck on the spot. He cried out your name but it seemed you didn’t hear him, your head through back in ecstasy as you moaned in time with the man’s thrust. Ken found a rock next to him and threw it at the man. It bounced off of him as if he didn’t even know it had been thrown, but then the blank face slowly turned to stare at Ken, a wicked smile suddenly spreading across his face where a mouth hadn’t been a moment before.

Ken sat upright in bed, gasping, panicking as he grabbed at anything he could touch, stopping only when he realized he had only fisted his hands up in the comforter. He buried his face hands, shaking, trying to stop the sobs that threatened to take him over again. He couldn’t remember ever having a nightmare before. He’d heard of them, but couldn’t even remember having a dream, only knowing they were something that apparently were a normal thing for most people, yourself included.

He tried to pinpoint the emotions he was feeling - something else the therapist had suggested when he got overwhelmed. Okay. Angry. Scared. Angry. Heartbroken? Fuck. Really, really fucking angry. He fell back into the pillows only to realize the sheets were covered in sweat underneath him.

You would help him feel better. He could go to you and you would pause your homework to soothe him and pet him and sit on his lap while he held you and hid his face in your neck. You wouldn’t be mad at him, you’d be so kind and patient like you always were.

He didn’t deserve you.

He didn’t deserve anything good.

The idea of going to you quietly to ask for comfort left his mind as quickly as it floated in, being forced out by a memory he created himself that honestly would probably never happen: you ignoring him, you telling him to get over himself while he finally was trying to understand why he kept feeling so angry like you had asked him to, you yelling at him, throwing something at his face. Telling him to….

“I can’t leave,” he cried into the pillow. “You said this was our home.”

You laughed. “Our nothing. Get the fuck out.”

You slapped him. He felt like his entire being shattered.

Ken was gripping the pillow so tight that his wrist began to cramp. Why. WHY couldn’t he stop these horrific scenes that played through his head.

The therapist had told him to breathe, even showed him how to inhale for four seconds and exhale the same amount of time. The mental scenarios weren’t real. They just might feel real.

Maybe he did need to return to Barbieland for a day…? Maybe he was dealing with fear that throwing Barbie out of her home could rebound back onto him…

UGH. Fuck fuck. This was hard. This was way too fucking hard. How was this supposed to help him get better, especially when your soft, perfect body was right behind that door, just down the hallway. When your voice could be filling his ears and drowning out at least most of these horrible things he heard in his head. Your taste filling his mouth, the scent of you, every inch of you, making him feel drunk.

You looked up from your book, Ken standing in the doorway. Sweat covered his body, his hair erratic, his face still as wet as earlier.

The concerned look on your face soothed him…but just a little.

“What happened?” You asked gently.

“I had a nightmare.”

Oh shit. “I’m so sorry. Do you need to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Wanna forget it.”

“I understand that. Do you want to come sit with me?”

“Want you with me.”

“Yes, Ken, that’s what I said-“

“Want you with me.”

Before you knew what was happening Ken had picked you up and set you on the kitchen counter where you became trapped between the cabinets and him. “Need you.”

“What did the therapist tell you to do when you feel like this?” You tried softly, reaching for the hand towel next to you and gently wiped at his chest to remove the cold sweat.

“It’s not working.”

“It doesn’t always work right away.”

He wanted to slam you into the cabinets, forcing his lips onto yours, making you stop talking about all the bullshit he had been fighting inside himself ever since that stupid appointment today. He knew that was the wrong thing to do.

“Can I ask what happens to you when you choose sex to deal with these emotions you’re struggling with?” The therapist had asked. “Anything in particular that seems to help at all?”

Ken didn’t want to answer. Would you call the sex violent is he asked? Or would it just be ‘rough’? He didn’t like the word violent…you had never told him that word, so it mustn’t be so. You would have told him. You would tell him if he ever hurt you.

“Ken?” The therapist had said, breaking through the long silence that had followed his question.

“I….I tend to be rough.”

“How does that help you?”

“I don’t have to think as much as usual. It helps block it all out.”

“It blocks all of it out?”

“Well…not everything, not always. But sometimes. Sometimes I get to have moments where everything becomes quiet except for her. I get to just hear her.”

And he desperately needed to hear you now. His strong hand ripped your crop top off, tearing the material from how hard he had pulled. You sighed as you watched it thrown to the floor.

“I liked that top,” you said.

“I’ll get you ten more,” Ken promised, biting down onto your nipple.

You cried out, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Oh, thank god. The exquisite pain of the way your nails dug into his skin, the taste of your flesh, the sound of your voice. His mind quieted for a second, and he heaved a sigh of relief as his tongue circled your nipple, his hands on your back, holding you into him.

“Do you feel like you take your anger out on her during sex?” The therapist’s words echoed in his head. God fucking dammit, not now. He had you in his arms. He would have you underneath him any second now. He didn’t need these fucking questions interrupting any of his time with you, especially these times.

“I don’t know.”

“Have you asked her if she feels that way?”

“She wouldn’t feel that way,” Ken forced himself not to sneer.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because she likes it.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“She would tell me if she didn’t!”

He slammed you into the wall now, your legs wrapped around him, needing to fuck that horrible image from his nightmare out of his mind. You had pleaded with him not to tear the pajamas pants you had been wearing and he had pulled them off swiftly, laying them in a single piece on the table before picking you up again.

“You like this?” He asked, voice breathless but harsh. He was terrified of your answer, but now that the question was on his mind, he couldn’t make it go away. God, the last thing he wanted to do was actually hurt you.

“Yes, Ken,” your head fell back against the wall when he bucked his hips up unto yours, the thin fabric of his boxers not doing anything at all to hide how hard he was.

“You’d tell me if I was hurting you?”

“Yes, Ken,” you repeated.

“Aren’t you going to tell me you should be studying?”

“Need a break anyway.” You sighed, angling your hips a little to try to get better leverage of him rubbing against your folds. “You feel good.”

Against his usual judgment, Ken pulled his cock out of his boxers and tested his tip against your opening before he tried fingering you to see how wet you were for him. Your hands clamped his shoulders tighter.

“Do you think you can take me right now?” He breathed into your ear and you giggled because it tickled a little.

“I can try,” you said, one hand traveling to grip the back of his neck as he started to slide into you.

Your cry was loud, and Ken’s mind once again quieted for a single moment, and he bottomed out in you as he experienced one more second of relief.

“I need her loud,” he had confessed as the session was ending earlier that day. “It’s the only thing that ever fully drowns any of the bullshit out.”

He thrust up hard again and your forehead fell into his, your eyes closed, focusing on your breathing as he stretched you out a little sooner than you probably should have been. His hips started snapping into you in a quicker pace.

“Can I lay down,” you shuddered as the pain became more pleasurable. “Wanna be comfy with you.”

“Need you. Need you right here for just another minute.” Ken tried to slow his thrusts but struggled for control as he tried fucking that image from his nightmares out of his mind.

His head hurt from all of the stress he’d been trying to process from the day. His head fell into your shoulder, closing his eyes, your moans becoming louder as he tried angling himself to hit your special spot. He left wet kissing along your neck, hoping it would help dull any pain you might still be dealing with, and when his name fell from your lips in a blissed out sigh he sucked gently on your pulse point.

The nightmare slowly melted from his mind’s eye and he slowed his thrusts until he had stopped completely, staring into your eyes.

“You’d tell me if I ever hurt you, right?”

You nodded. “You’ve never hurt me, Ken.”

He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently.

He had been saving a special something for you, something he had wanted to use on a special night, maybe after he finally took you out on a proper date. But he needed to hear you, see you react to it now. Maybe that was selfish of him. For the moment, he had lost the motivation to care.

“Close your eyes,” he asked, kissing your temple, and you smiled, doing as he asked.

You heard a buzzing sound and felt yourself becoming wetter. You hadn’t told him but you’d used the vibrator on yourself in the shower while he had been in therapy, loving a moment of personal release where you didn’t have to think about anything for a moment.

Your eyes shot open when you felt the strong vibrations covering your clit… all the way down your vulva, sliding into your opening. Your body jerked and you grabbed one of Ken’s forearms as he leaned himself onto the bed with his hand but remained upright enough to watch the way your opening clenched around the toy.

“Holy…ahhh.what…”

It was one of those vibrators were it had a clit stimulator but curved downward so it had a dildo attached to it that could slide inside you and stay without having to be held. The stimulation against your g-spot was delicious but automatically a little overwhelming, your vision going dizzy for a second while you worked to adjust.

Ken leaned over you fully, pressing your hands into the bed beside your head, wrapping his fingers in your own.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

It filled you up enough to compare to two of his fingers while having almost more of an intensity than it was when Ken nipped at your clit.

You nodded, gasping, and he smiled down at you, kissing your lips.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, slowly starting to kiss down your sternum.

“Alright, I’m going to ask you a hard question, Ken.” The therapist laced his fingers together. “What if she does end up leaving?”

“You don’t have the right to say that out loud.”

“It’s probably a good idea for us to address this idea head-on. Ignoring it, stuffing it inside makes it worse.”

“How does it help if I think about it?”

“Intentionally bringing up fears and talking through him often makes them less scary. You’re able to conquer the biggest aspects of those fears, learn exactly what fuels the, so they become easier to deal with when they come up.”

“I don’t want her to leave.”

“I know, I-“

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“Our bed,” he mumbled, his lips attaching to your hip bone. “My y/n.”

You didn’t hear him, your ears filled with the buzzing from the toy.

God, you were perfect, writhing underneath him, even giggling a little as his wet kisses as they got to your stomach then going back to bunching the comforter up in your hands when the vibrator caused another spark of pleasure. Ken had made sure to lay out the comforter over the entire bed so you’d be extra comfy, like you had said you wanted.

“Well now I’m worried she’ll throw me out if I can’t stop acting like this.” Ken leaned his elbows onto his knees, his face in his hands. “Why would you put that idea in my head-“

“You already had it there, you told me so yourself.” Ken saw the therapist cross his legs through his fingers. He hated him. Not that he had done anything wrong…he just…he hated all of this.

“I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know how on earth I’d handle it.” Ken loathed how his voice choked a bit.

“Our goal is to make sure, to the best of our ability, that that will never happen.”

“I can make her stay.”

“Mine.” Ken flipped you over onto your stomach, the pressure of the toy being pushed onto your clit more intense from laying on it making you cry into the comforter. “All mine.”

He dipped a finger into you from behind, turning it upward to caress your muscle opposite the toy. You let out a strangled, throaty groan.

“What if she grows to hate me.” Ken’s words weren’t a question, they were as if stating a fact that was already coming into existence. He glanced at the clock. Why was time ticking by so slowly in this god awful therapy room.

“I do think this one is all in your head. Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like you’d have to really go too far for her to ever hate you.”

“I’ll figure out how to make that not happen.”

“Unfortunately, we only have so much control over -“

“I will make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Ken slipped his belt from underneath the comforter, his hand almost shaking. Somehow marking you with his mouth was never enough for him now. He needed more. He needed you to react more, and lately his lips claiming your skin had made you relax more than anything. He wanted to be a comfort to you the same way you were to him. Somehow his brain wouldn’t let him see things that way, though. He didn’t know if he was ever truly a comfort to you.

You’d promised him he’d never hurt you. Thank god, because he was desperate for this release.

Your mangled scream filled the room as he bought the belt down, alternating cheeks, harsh and without pause. Usually he would wait a few seconds in between each for you to catch you breath, especially the first couple times. Today he saw red as the conversation with the therapist wouldn’t stop echoing in his mind, your legs shaking almost violently, your ass cheeks clenching as he kept finger fucking you alongside the vibrator.

Your body shuddered hard and you bit into the comforter, your throat raw from your screams as your orgasm hit out of nowhere. Ken didn’t even realize you hit your climax until he felt the way your muscle spasmed, knowing exactly the way you felt every single time you peaked with him inside you. Oh fuck, how on earth had he not seen that coming, heard the way your voice always hit a higher pitch right before it happened? He dropped the belt, focusing solely on the way his fingers touched you, his free hand pushing into your lower back as your hips bucked up into him.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, loving how long this orgasm was lasting. “Come on my fingers as long as you need.”

Your entire body was shaking as you came down from your waves, Ken pulling his fingers out slowly, wrapping his lips around them.

“Ken,” you shivered. “The vibrator.”

“Mmhmmm?” He knew what you meant, but loved the way you were remaining in a zone of overstimulation. He leaned over onto you, pressing his hips into yours, his cock rubbing into your folds.

“Ahhhhh….no, please….”

“No, please, what?”

“Ken!”

“No, baby girl. I need you to tell me. Need to hear you say it.”

“Need a breather, please, please.”

Ken bit into your shoulder. “What if I don’t want to?”

Tears stung your eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want, for fuck’s sake. Just turn it off for a minute.”

That got his attention. He stood up and reached down to press the button and your tense body finally got to collapse fully into the mattress. Your ass was bright red, your fluids coating the toy and dripping down your pussy a little bit. Ken licked up the toy from the middle to your opening, pressing it a little harder into you, sucking on your opening. Your back arched and you made one of those kitten noises that always made him become impossibly harder.

God, he needed to fuck you. He had so many ideas now, his mind thankfully able to focus solely on you and what all he would do to you before letting you rest.

“Oh, god, please be gentle,” you whimpered as you felt your leg grabbed, knowing he was about to tie you up again.

“Just gonna make you feel good,” he promised.

You turned your head to see his eyes, a layered mix of anger and fear and….he was trying not to cry.

“Baby,” you said softly, your voice floating into his ears, and he looked at you. “What is it? What are you feeling right now?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay -“

“I don’t need to feel anything.”

“But you’re feeling a lot right now.”

He changed his mind. He’d tie you up later. He moved you onto your back and you kept your legs closed.

“Talk to me, Ken. Let’s work through this together.”

“Don’t want to talk about it. Want to fuck you.”

“You’ll get to -“

“We’ll talk later.”

“Promise?”

“Open your legs for me.”

“Ken -“

“Open. Them.”

You kept your legs closed, attempting to sit up but Ken leaned over you.

“I need your legs open, y/n.”

“You want them open.”

“No, I need it.”

You shook your head. “Not until you talk to me.”

Ken sighed. He dropped the belt you hadn’t notice he had been holding in his hand on the bed beside you and leaned on his forearms to kiss you.

“What are you feeling right now?” You asked against his lips.

That you’ll be gone when I come tomorrow from work. That this will be the last time I ever hold you, feel you, hear the noises you make because of me. “Nothing.”

“Baby, please.”

“Let me back inside you.” His eyes stared into yours. “I swear I’ll tell you everything later.”

“How much later?”

He kissed you deeply again, hand reaching to push itself between your folds. “Soon.”

You relented and relaxed your legs so Ken could pull them apart. The moment your wet, pink folds were visible to him, he brought the belt down in a single, stinging blow.

You weren’t sure how your body reacted other than you struggling for breath, your vision dark behind your tightly shut eyelids, an almost static-like audio blocking your ears from hearing anything else more a moment. You heard Ken’s voice bringing you back, feeling his weight on top of you.

“Such a good girl. You’re going to be fine. Ride it out for me. I’m here.”

Your eyes opened and a loud whimper escaped from deep in your throat.

“You’re going to feel so incredible in just a moment.” Ken’s voice was soft, trying to soothe you. He gently brushed a finger against your clit and you scratched at his back in response, trying to find any way to ground yourself, but then he moved down your body and licked his tongue up you.

“Touch me, please,” Ken asked, and without thinking your hands gratefully pulled on his hair, thankful for something to grip and jerk on. Ken hummed happily, going back to consume your core, and you wondered where he’d learned all of this, if he’d thought it up or if he had maybe read it somewhere.

Like the last time he spanked you before eating you out, everything was incredibly pleasurable, but today times ten, your body experiencing the intense pain somehow making the pleasure even greater, every nerve and fiber stimulated.

Your lower stomach muscles were clenching as he worked his magic, the build-up of your next orgasm almost painful, but still in the best way.

“Need you to come for me again. Need you nice and wet and relaxed.”

“Why?” You almost didn’t want to know, your body still working to process all of this.

“You’ll see.”

Your orgasm hit fast and hard again, barely able to come back down from your high when Ken inserted the vibrator again and turned it on. You felt like you were having to force your brain to focus to move your limbs as you tried reaching down to turn it off but Ken intercepted, grappling with your thrashing arms until he had them pressed into the mattress beside your head, climbing on top of you and holding one of your legs open and down with his knee gently so as not to hurt you.

“Baby, baby, I’ve got you.”

You screamed in frustration, trying to raise your arms to no avail. “What if I wasn’t letting you recover when you needed to?” You wailed.

Ken arched an eyebrow and smiled down at you. “You have.”

“Not THIS much.”

“True. You’ll have to surprise me with it sometime.” Ken carefully turned you over onto your stomach again, holding your arms behind you. “Just ride it out, baby girl. You’ve got this.”

“Pleeaasee Ken. Please, please, please.” You almost sobbed with relief when the vibrator was turned off although it remained firmly within you, deep inside your walls while still covering your clit.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay. Take your time.” Ken lay beside you, propped up on his arm, his fingers gliding up and down your back to soothe you.

He enjoyed the moment as long as his head let him. The quiet broken only by your jagged breaths and little noises as you worked to calm your body’s quivering, the softness and warmth of your skin underneath his fingers.

The voices began again, a sickening layered mix of everything he’d heard the therapist ask today. The one question threatening to overtake him completely, repeating itself, becoming more cruel each time he heard it.

“What if she does leave? What if she does leave? What if she leaves? What if she’s already left? She’s made the plans. She’s gone.”

Ken laid his head next to yours, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Tell me you love me.”

You mumbled something through your panting, your nails still gripping the comforter, trying to ground yourself.

“Please. I need it.”

“Love you.” The words were almost incoherent.

“Again.” Silence. “Please.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, y/n.”

Your eyes remained closed, feeling so incredibly tired that you were sure if Ken left you alone that you’d probably fall asleep within moments.

You felt your left leg being pulled toward the bed post again as the silky tie wrapped around it tightly then being attached to the post.

You can’t not be thinking about him when he’s not around, when you’re in class, when he’s at work…he wrapped the second tie around your right ankle, jerking a little harder than he meant to when he pulled the knot tight. He thought about you all the time, nonstop…he needed to make sure you always had a constant reminder of him.

He needed to make sure he made you sore.

The vibrator turned on again and your upper back grew tight as you felt like you might tear through the comforter while trying to hold onto something. You felt not one, but two of Ken’s fingers push inside you, your tight muscle stretching around them.

“How does this feel?” He asked.

“Ss..so..much…” You felt a third finger join his first two and your back arched. “I…so…full…”

“Mmmmmmm.” Ken watched at the way your muscle worked to relax around his fingers and the vibrator, being stretched out slowly. “I need to make sure you’re ready for me, remember?”

Oh. Dear. God. He wasn’t going to actually try and fuck you!!??!

“Ken, please think about this. You’re not going to fit.”

“That’s why I’m stretching you out with my fingers.” His free hand roamed over your lower back and ass. “I’m gonna fit inside you just fine.”

“But you won’t, though.”

“Just trust me.” He removed his fingers from you to spread your wetness around your ass hole, easily visible due to how wide your legs were being held open. He wouldn’t do anything without making sure you were okay with it, and he probably needed to wait for another day because he didn’t want to push you too much over your edge, but his focus kept snapping back to how this was the only area of you no one else had ever claimed before. No one else had touched you here, fucked you here. Maybe, if one day you relented, he could make you his in a way no one else had.

He tested just the tip of his thumb into that muscle and your legs went rigid.

“Is this okay?” He asked, genuinely wanting to make sure you were okay.

You were shocked how much it felt so good, a new pleasure you hadn’t exactly experienced before filling your entire lower region.

“Yes,” You breathed.

He rubbed his thumb just inside, moving it in small circles, and your vaginal opening clamped down onto the vibratory harder.

Fuucckk. Fuck fuck. Ken saw and heard how beautiful you’d be, experiencing anal sex for the first time with him, breaking you in by fucking you while fingering your virgin hole so you could orgasm around him before he’d sink his cock into-

No, focus here, now. He knew when you were nearing exhaustion and despite imagining how hot it would be to actually push you past what was comfortable for you because god, what if you loved it, what if he could pleasure you longer than usual after that, and he’d jerk himself off roughly in the shower while creating those scenarios in his head…he needed to make sure he kept himself in control, make sure you didn’t get hurt in any way.

He pulled his thumb out and pushed his throbbing cock against your opening partially taken up by the vibrator.

“Are you ready for me, y/n?”

“I don’t know,” you confessed, jerking against the leg restraints, wanting to plead for another break from the vibrator before going forward but also needing to feel exactly what this was about to be like.

“I’ll go slow.” He pushed his tip in then and you keened, Ken gasping loudly between how insanely tight you were, pressing into his member almost painfully, and the vibrator on the underside of his cock sending chills through his entire body. He gripped onto your hips, forcing himself still so he wouldn’t bottom out in you and hurt you. Your gasp sounded almost strangled, like you’d had the wind knocked out of you.

“Breathe, baby.”

“It hurts, ahhh, ugh, Ken, Ken…”

Please, please don’t make me stop, he thought. “Do I need to stop?”

Your voice was like velvet. “No. It hurts but it’s so fucking amazing.”

Ken pushed further inside, stopping again when your scream filled his ears - god, yes, please, so perfect, your voice only rising so loudly only for him - waiting for you to calm down a little again before going deeper.

He shut his eyes tightly trying not to cum right then. He’d never felt anything so tight, the vibrations exquisite, your voice finally fully drowning out all the awful fucking conversations and anxieties of the day. Finally, everything was quiet.

Finally, everything was just you.

He bottom out after the fourth time he thrust forward, needed to feel every inch of you as he leaned over you, holding himself up on his forearms. You lay groaning under him and he used his thumb to encourage the slightest turn of your head without straining your neck, kissing you so sweetly it felt contradictory to the amount of intense stimulation you were experiencing otherwise.

His thrusts were tender, almost intoxicated in nature, pulling almost all the way out before bottoming out inside you again, but everything somehow felt different this time.

You’d made love to him in the past, but he hadn’t been able to feel that “perfect” connection he kept hearing about in stupid romance movies, like it was some sort of magic that only existed in fiction. He didn’t know why today, but he finally felt connected to you. Like his lips were created specifically for yours and vice versa, your body only existed in this state of pleasure because of him, and obviously he had only ever felt anything like this with you.

You had tried to prepare yourself for Ken’s jealousy-fueled anxiety to consume him as soon as he cock was in you, his thrusts rough and his eyes blazing as you’d have to get used to the pain - albeit really, really good pain - until it subsided and everything only existed in a state of pleasure, but you hadn’t expected this: languid and sweet and god, you were thankful for it. You’d never been stretched this much, never had someone somehow this deep inside you, even if it only felt like it was the deepest you’d ever felt.

His hips picked up their pace but only a little, your bodies somehow seeming to move as one. Ken’s head fell into the pillow right next to where you were facing him, wanting to watch you but his eyes closing, feeling a little overstimulated himself.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he panted into the pillow. “You’re always so fucking good to me.”

“I need to come, Ken.” Your voice was weak.

He opened his eyes then. “Tell me what you need.”

He fucked your through your orgasm, sucking on your neck hard to mark you on this special occasion as your muscles clenched and spasmed in such a way that if you weren’t tied up and held down under Ken’d bodyweight that you would have ended up in the fetal position from your body automatically trying to curl up and away from how intense everything was.

Your whimpers mixed with a couple tears that rolled down your cheeks sent Ken over the edge, him finally losing what little control he’d held onto as he bottomed out into you over and over again until the waves calmed, and his body shook on top of your trembling frame.

He wanted to stay there and just kiss your neck and back, losing himself in you while his head swam with the aftermath of his pleasure, but he forced himself to stand up and pull himself out, removing the vibratory from you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, your body still shaking, because usually you’d have been able to calm down more by now.

“Y,y yes,” you stuttered. “Need…I don’t…kno-“

Ken ripped your ties off and turned you onto your back, your limbs limply falling onto the bed.

“I’ve got you,” Ken promised. He turned on the shower and coaxed you to sit up, your full bodyweight leaning against his chest while he held you after he’d brought you a glass of water.

He carried you into the shower and had tossed in one of those fruity scented shower bombs that you always loved after a long day at school. He crossed his legs in a way to where he could cuddle you while you rested on his lap without having to sit on the cold tile floor, and held your head tenderly while you leaned against him, bordering back and forth between being awake and drifting off to sleep.

Had he intentionally exhausted you to this extreme of a point to make sure he wouldn’t have to talk about all these stupidly hard emotions like he’d promised he would? He would keep his promise, he couldn’t ever imagine lying to you, but he didn’t want to do it today. He couldn’t.

But he would, no matter how much he didn’t want to, as soon as you asked him.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asked, lips against your forehead.

“Mmmm…chocolate.”

He smiled. “Chocolate what? Cake? Ice cream? Just a bar of it?”

“Everything.” Your giggle was sleepy and weak, but it was perfect to him.

“Then I’ll get you everything,” he promised. “Also, whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’d like to ask if maybe you’d like to go on a trip with me.”

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