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sassuguru · 2 months

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MY SERVANT, ASKING SOMETHING OF ME? "watched da kny movie (even tho i alr kno wat happenz), 'nd da new muzan clips!?! daddiieeee. 'niewayz, i came up wit sumtin' 4 him, even if dis iz a bit late, oopsie," the artist says, "master-servant tropes alwayz gimme da ick, prolly bc im black, but itz acceptable rn. 'nd im limiting da usage of "master." the art includes muzan from kny, in a master-servant relationship with succubus, oiran!reader. all warnings include some pussy spanking, p in v, heat cycle, breeding, womb tattoo, mind reading, shoe riding, shoe licking, tail pulling, sensitive horns, cocky muzan, "master" is used twice, slight dumbification, ooc muzan?, degrading and praise.

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Muzan didn't particularly favor his demons. He "unwillingly" and uselessly continued the creation of his kind in hopes for a phenomenon that could lead him to what he so desired. He hates his demons. They simply leech and beg disgustingly for his blood as if they were worthy of it. The only demons he'd tolerate were his uppermoons, and even then it was conscious task not to murder the lot.

Most of his demons weren't special in the slightest. No special demon arts that caught his eye, no one strong enough to withstand the drops of blood he so graciously fed them, and no demon composed enough to avoid clamoring for any scrap they could get from him.

That happens to include you.

However, you were slightly different. Not the phenomenon he wished for, but a phenomenon nonetheless.

The demon before Gyutaro's Daki's promotion to uppermoon. A succubi who he had stationed in the Entertainment District for years now. You were a phenomenon in a sense that he'd never seen a demon like you, and in the sense that he'd never seen a demon act the way you have.

You didn't clamor for his power, you clamored for his praise, his touch. He assumes it's because of his connection to you that you crave him so desperately, so carnally. At times he found it...cute. You gladly accepted whatever scraps he decided to feed you, whatever jobs he gives you. Unlike the rest of them, there's no thoughts in your mind except for loyalty. No twisted hunger (besides your lust) or even hint of betrayal. You just so happen to be the only demon he'd hand out a favor for.

He'd periodically visit the district, waiting to hear if you have any information about the blue spider lily for him. And conviently, he'd miss the period of your heat.

Every. Single. Solitary. Time.

It wasn't until this time where he'd learned how pathetic his favorite demon was. He decided to come early.

"I'm afraid so," you speak softly to one of the geisha that you pass by, "It's that time. Hopefully, Warabihime can handle the clients for a couple of days. I do feel sorry." You hum and quickly walk to the confines of your bedroom, separated from the rest of the girls. You huff, whining at the many layers covering your skin. You felt as if you were burning alive.

You nearly rip of the Kosode layers you wore, the Uchikake layers, and several others follow suit until you remain in your nagajuban. You practically threw the ridiculous amount hairpins at the wall. You huff, whining as you carefully lay on your futon, taking several deep breaths.

There was a hot throbbing in your lower stomach where you knew the tattoo had now appeared. You dip your hand beneath you, manicured fingers sliding underneath the nagajuban from the slit, fingertips gently rubbing circled along the hot area. A whine leaves your lips, the desperate sound bringing you to embarrassment.

Logically, one would think someone with connections to have several clients stay with her could easily overcome this.

However, that thought was immediately thrown out of your mind during the first heat. Your tail would show itself, along with the small and sensitive horns on your forehead. Paired with the glowing mark over your womb, it was a no brainer that someone would figure out you weren't human. And unfortunately, even as a high-ranking prostitute, you didn't have the luxury of killing every client you drained during this time.

Your lips part, lungs gulping as much oxygen it could between pants. Your eyelids flutter closed as your fingers trail along your inner thighs, ghosting over your vuvla.

"My my, have I interrupted something?" Your eyes snap open at the sound of the velvety voice, you snatch your hand away, and sit up. You bow respectfully, though it's clear your close to losing your mind. "M-Master?!" You whimper, "You don't typically visit during this season..."

Muzan took note of how your eyes averted his, you never do that. You always maintained eye contact with him, smiling happily when he appeared. Though, no thoughts of yours at the moment raised alarms in his mind, he was quite curious. "Why on Earth am I here at this time," hm?" He hums, saying your thought outloud. His crimson eyes catch the stiff movement of your tail, the roughness of your breathing, and the sweet aroma that starts to swell inside of the room.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" He walks closer to your bowed form, bending down to one knee. "When have you not desired my presence?" His back of his fingers caress the soft skin of your cheek.

"I—" you begin to speak, though you realize your mind has done enough of the speaking. You breath in, almost choking on the smell of him. It was sickening. Not in the bad way! Though, it was in the way that you feared you'd pounce on him sooner or later.

"There's a little problem down there, hm?" His eyes trail down your the breasts, your taut nipples not being hidden by the thin fabric. "You'd pounce on me, hm? I smell that good?"

He uses his finger to tilt your head up to face him. Only a pathetic whimper can leave your lips, your mind speaking for you.

Yes!!

A rare smile appears on Muzan's face. He stands, going to sit back where he entered. Now that he's on top of the clothing trunk, he's a couple of feet higher than you. One of his legs is extended. "Come and sit," he whispers, flexing his foot, signaling where he wants you to sit.

You pant, rushing over to obey his orders. You look down at his shiny, clean shoe and carefully lower yourself on it. You tense and whimper at the cold temperature of the material, though that only seems to increase your need. "You need to get off, don't you?" He quizzes, knowing the answer. You eagerly nod, "Yes! Mhm!"

"Well, ride."

Biting your bottom lip, you wiggle your hips. In fear of his wrath, your hands remain by your sides as stabilizers. A breathy moan leaves your lips as you get into a rhythm. You'd whine when your clit would catch on the material slightly.

With your tongue lolled, pants leaving your lips, you vigorously rode his shoe, body shaking as found your release.

"Who would've thought. A demon I thought highly of is nothing but a whore! So much so she'd get off on my shoe," Muzan fake pouts, his fingers entagled in your hair as he forces you to look at him. You whimper, "'m sorry.."

Muzan hums, his hand letting go of your hair. "Clean it," he pushes you back with the foot he made you ride, "You've made a mess of my clothing. I expect you to clean your messes. If, your worthy of my praise."

That last comment seemed to do it for you, a smug smirk finding its way to his lips when your eyes practically sparkle. Your lips quickly find its way to the material of his shoe, your tongue quickly laps up the mess you made. Your eyes remain on his shoe as you clean it, eager to lick it clean.

Once your done, you gulp and look up at him with expectance in your eyes. The demon king's smirk grows at your obedience, plus the way your tail is erratically whipping around behind you.

He leans down, hands squeezing your cheeks. "Good girl," he coos with fake sincerity. Though that doesn't seem to matter to you, as demonstrated by your tail. His crimson eyes watch carefully as yours become completely clouded with blind devotion and lust at his praise. It was cute how pliant you were during this period.

"Master," you whisper, eyes sparkling, "Please help me! Please fuck me!"

Muzan outwardly laughs at your plea. He hums, looking down at your pathetic form.

"My servant, asking something of me?"

He sees your bottom lip trembling, need filling your eyes. The King hums. "Perhaps I will," he stands, your face pressed against the crotch of his pants, "You have been such a loyal little thing. You do deserve a reward." Your eyes widen in surprise and happiness at his words. Your tail wags rapidly side to side at the sight of him taking off his coat and vest.

"Back up," he orders, "Lay down on the futon."

You eagerly lay patiently lay down on your back on the futon. Your eyes watch as he removes his shoes, loosening his tie and top buttons of his shirt. He walks over to you, unzipping his pants.

Muzan bends down, eyes ghosting over your damp inner thighs. He eyes the nagajuban separating him and your skin. Without a care he rips it off of you, cold and pale hands running along your bare hands. Without a word, his fingertips press your nipples between them, rubbing the sensitive nubs; the King relishes in the way your back arches at his touch, the sound that leaves your pretty, plump, and still painted lips.

"So reactive," he whispers, leaning in to press his lips against yours. You moan when he forces his tongue between your lips; his serpentine-like tongue exploring your mouth. Your eyes roll back at his kiss, the action become sloppy due to your movements.

Your plush thighs press together as his finger rolls your nipple beneath it.

As he feels your hips stutter beneath him, he laughs into the kiss. You feel his fingers pull and pinch your nipples and you cum. Your thighs are glued together as you moan into his mouth. "Muzan," you whine, accidently removing the usual honorific for him. He pauses, thinking about whether to address it,, until he sees your face. Tears are in your eyes, your eyelashes sticking to each other. There are strings of saliva on your parted lips, the paint you out on your lips now smeared (and on him).

Muzan licks his lips at your appearance. He'll let it slide, just for this.

Crimson eyes trail down to your clamped shut thighs, moving back up to stop at the glowing tattoo above your womb. His sharp nails ghost over the tattoo, causing you to shiver. "Spread them," he orders in a whisper.

You whimper, hesitantly spreading your legs for him. You immediately feel your stomach drop when you hear him tut. His eyes scan the disgusting mess between your thighs. Slick covers the inside of your thighs, the translucent slick entangled in your pubic hairs. The liquid is practically smeared between your legs. Your pussy continues to drool a mix of cum and slick onto the futon you lay upon.

"Such a dirty little thing," he hums, "Utterly pathetic."

You gulp at his words, lips trembling as tears swell in in your eyes at his degrading. "I'm sorry," you mumble. Muzan hums, acknowledging your apology. He pushes your thighs back, knees closer to your chest.

He runs his thumb along your wet slit, smirking at the strong of slick connecting your pussy to his thumb. "I'm not sure even my cock could fix this," he says with faux sympathy. You whine.

"Then your cum!" You plead, "Please, my lord. Please, Muzan."

The desperation in your voice when you spoke his name seemed to push him over the edge. His teasing stops as he pulls his hardening erection from the confines of his pants. He rubs the mushroom tip against your entrance.

An uncharacteristic groan leaves his lips as he pushes in, feeling the wet warmth of your cunt squeeze around him.

Your eyes widen when he pushes in. The action is nothing new. However, the size is. You're normally able to take any size, your a master at it. Though you didn't fully understand the extent of the "it felt like my guts were being rearranged" until you feel the demon king push into you.

You have to clamp your hands on your mouth to prevent you from screaming. Muzan smirks as your back arches, your eyes widening and pushing out tears. The guttural groan you let slip.

Muzan's large hands hook underneath your knees, pushing your thighs firmly to your chest. He grunts as he feels you squeeze around him so desperately. Everything about you what desperate, heat or not. And for some strange reason, Muzan was enjoying this more than he'd like to admit.

His hips retract before slaming back into your needy cunt. You whimper at the audible squelch of his cock pushing inside of you. "Hear that? That's how wet you are, whore. Though, your my whore aren't you?"

You vigorously nod "mhmmhmhm!" leaves your plump and kiss-swollen lips.

Muzan grunts, pistoning his hips in and out of you. He audibly laughs at the bulge his cock makes, deforming the shape of the shimmering tattoo above the womb he was most definitely touching.

His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. He couldn't help but find the little "uh, uh, uh" sounds adorable ad they spilled from his lips.

"Because I'm feeling, gracious, nice, today. I'll give you what you want, my dear succubus," he coos. He maintains eye contact as he plants his cock firmly inside of you, a hiss coming from him as he watching your expression twist into one of pleasure, your pussy squeezing his cock like it'd run away, bringing him to his own orgasm.

Muzan huffs, letting your legs relax as he slips from your swollen pussy.

The King watches with amusement as not even a minute later you've rolled onto your stomach, breath even and pussy still dripping with need, though with his cum added. Your tail swishes, wrapping delicately around his thigh. Muzan catches how there are practically hearts in your eyes as you look back at him. You utter a single word as you drip with desire.

"More?"

might make a small pt2 bc i got 2 un motivated 2 rite da tail pulling 'n stuff i rly wan'ed 2 add! (ᗒᗣᗕ)

#( sect. i ) — small exhibit #“btw. m!reader fics r on da way!” riri says!#kny #demon slayer #muzan x reader #muzan x female reader #muzan smut #muzan kibutsuji #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji smut #kny x reader #kny x female reader #kny smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer smut #female reader #x female reader #fem reader

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