Misa(Death Note)

Finding out her bag was open was bad enough for Misa, who stopped in place and began to rummage through it. Finding out her Death Note was no longer in the bag was even fucking worse; she looked back in worry, terrified by the idea that she had lost it. "No. No, no, no," she said, muttering frantically to herself as she broke into her mad dash down the way, looking around and hoping desperately for her book. If it was lost, she was in worlds of trouble, and she had to find it right now. Her eyes scanned about along the ground and along the people passing by. It wasn't too busy a street, and it made it easy to note whether or not someone had it. And indeed, she could see a man pick it up. Not too old, wearing a suit. Probably the kind of man who would fall for a sweet girl act in a heartbeat.

The man, in turn, looked up from the book toward Misa, then down at it again. "Is this yours?" he asked, figuring from the look on her face and her general fashion sense with the black dress and her general vibe that she was the owner of the book. She looked like the kind of girl who had a journal labeled 'Death Note'. That was all it was, of course. A journal. There was nothing too major here, and yet as his eyes fell upon her, he couldn't deny the potential for him to get something incredible out of it. The closer the girl drew, the more he noted how cute she was. How much her body appealed to him in ways he didn't feel he could possibly resist.

"Yes, it is," she said, smile bright,. "Thank you for picking it up. I was worried I lost it."

"That's not a problem," he said, motioning the book toward her, but as Misa put a hand out, he yanked it back. "What's my reward?"

Misa's eyes widened. A reward. She hadn't thought she would have to give one, staring nervously at the man and wondering what he was doing and how to handle all of it. "Do you want something?' she asked, biting her lip as the nervousness swelled inside of her. Misa was in no way ready for the frustrations escalating inside of her, the frustrations building messier and stranger as she looked at him. She could tell by his growing smile what was happening, and she found the heavy, slumping nervousness begin to wash over her. "What will it take for me to get my book back?"

"Come back to my place for the night," the man said. He didn't bother hiding it. "My name's Kenji."

"Misa," she said through gritted teeth. There was no good way to deal with any of this, but Misa knew full well that the choice wasn't really hers. She had to get the book back at any cost, and the pressures hanging over her head were a demanding threat she knew she had to meet. There wasn't going to be any other way to get around these frustrations, as she sighed and nodded in weary acceptance. "I'll do it." She didn't have a choice. Her whole body tightened up ind shaky disgust and a misaimed sense of confusion and worry. She didn't know how to face the reality of what she was signing up for, but she understood it all to be a fucking mess. "Fine. Let's do it."

Kenji smiled, his perverse, growing delight making Misa shudder. His hands reached out for her, grabbing her chest and blatantly, openly feeling her up, indulging in the chance to make her melt under these frustrations. Her face scrunched up, the raw embarrassment sweeping through her with a sudden and revolted frustration. "Then we have a deal, Miss Misa." He handed her back the book, and gave her ass a firm, handsy smack, squeezing down onto the cheek and imposing upon Misa clear idea of what he was going to seek from her. She didn't like it, growing much more tense and concerned

Misa had places to go, but she wasn't going there anymore. Kenji was going somewhere too, and happily shifted into a different approach, open that led her instead her toward his house. Her plans didn't matter as much as keeping her Death Note did, with Misa tucking it back into her bag and brushing off what she was about to do. It was a necessity, and when she got a chance to, she'd probably write his name out in her Death Note and get her revenge. Misa would get her revenge, she just knew she had to stomach something pretty terrible to get there. It would be fine; she was confident above all else in her opportunities for revenge.

The entire walk there, Kenji made no efforts to hide what he saw her ass, feeling her up. "Such a nice ass," he teased. "You're pretty, even for a goth girl." What was that supposed to mean? Misa wanted to object, but the embarrassment was upon her, and before she could muster up some argument against him, a hand slipped down her panties, shocked her into the sudden realization things were only about to get worse. Misa got to spend the walk there dreading reaching the destination while wanting to get there so she wouldn't be molested on the street for much longer. It was an awful back and forth, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

His apartment was a dump, and all around his bed were a mess of empty cans and takeout boxes. Beside his bed was a box of tissues and a porn magazine. In every way, she found herself greeted by a sight she wanted to do everything in her power to pull away from. It was infuriating, bizarre, and left her even more baffled, struggling under the weird tension and worry of realizing exactly what she was about to open up to. "Let's just get this over with," she groaned, stewing in embarrassment and misery as she looked toward Kenji. "How do you want it?'

"Let's start with a footjob," he said. "Keep your stockings on." He undid his pants and climbed onto the mattress on the floor, easing his way down and grabbing hold of his cock. The request was so strange and so frustrating that, for a brief moment, Misa was so confused and baffled by the request that she didn't think about looking at his cock. But her eyes fell onto it again, a bit more clearly now, focusing in with attention and realization at the idea that his cock looked nice. Big. Thick. She shook her head. No, Misa was not going to be swayed by a decent looking cock. Decent, that's all it was. She was fine, she was strong. This was all going to be okay.

"You really want me to make a mess out of my stockings?" she asked, sounding irritated above all else as she sat herself down onto the bed and shuffled her legs forward, settling them into his lap and accepting the awkward confusion and frustration of what she was about to do. Frustrated and detesting everything about this, Misa nonetheless pushed her feet forward, knowing she didn't have much choice but to give in to this all. She sighed, shuddering under the reluctant weirdness of opening up to this all, accepting she didn't have any choice. Not right now. Her feet pressed against his cock, and she wound up to begin tending to his cock with her feet, tending up and down his shaft with clumsy motions making one thing clearer than everything else: Misa was not someone with any idea how to give a footjob.

It didn't matter; the pleasure was a sharp and wild swing into something sharp and startling. The clumsy motions tried to zero in on some certain sense of how to handle this, exploring the attempt to tend to him and to give Kenji what he wanted. "Lift up your skirt," he said, and with her cheeks burning, Misa complied, tugging it up and showing off the lacy panties below. "Oh, sexy. Are they for someone special? I wonder if you have a boyfriend. You must, you're so pretty."

"I don't need to tell you anything about me," Misa said. She shut her eyes tightly. She felt horrible. She mouthed the words, "I'm sorry, Light," as her head lowered and she tried her best to cope with all of these ecstasies and frustrations, a growing concern leaving her with less and less grounding and sturdiness on her footing. Silence was the means by which Misa would, hopefully, be able to keep her dignity, holding tight and clenched up, ignoring the frustrations rising through her, sweeps of wild and wicked panic that filled her with deep concern. She was embarrassed by the mere possibility of him finding out anything about her.

"He's a very lucky guy, whoever he is. We can keep this a secret." His smile darkened, growing under the wicked, ferocious weight of his desire, wanting to continue to indulge and push harder against her. Misa had his eye and she wasn't going to shake him now, that much he felt ready to prove with repeated, wicked sweeps. His cock throbbed under the attention of her feet working their steady pace at him, and he was getting greedier, more focused, eyes narrowing as he leaned in to the tighter joys of pushing on.

This was hoping to have to stay a secret. She wasn't going to fight that; this loathsome, detestable situation had Misa burning in shame, frustration rising as she did what she could to fight off these growing concerns. Misa was in a position of pure struggle and frustration here, burning up in reluctance and uncertainty as she tried to bring him some level of relief and throw herself deeper into humiliation. Clumsily pushing through her first ever footjob and hoping for some degree of steadiness and control over the situation, she was embarrassed to find that control simply wasn't happening, and everything she did pushed her further along into a shameful, embarrassed peak of heat that wasn't letting up.

With a good, hard groan, Kenji came all over her feet. The eruption of his dick all over her feet made her wince again, realizing the inevitability of the mess he would make of her. She whined, leaning her head away as she twisted under the frustration that hit her, sweeps of heat hitting her as she felt all these weird feelings burn up through her. "It's done," she said, voice twisting in revulsion. She couldn't pretend worse wasn't coming. He was going to fuck her, she just knew it. There would be worse coming, and the certainty with which she crept toward that worse was a path she didn't realize was going to be quite this fast.

"Lick my cum off your feet," Kenji commanded.

"What?"

"Do it. You're a pretty, young girl. I'm sure you're flexible." The look on his face made her twist and squirm in even greater frustration, struggling under the realization she was going to have to suffer through everything about this bizarre situation. "Show me."

Misa grabbed one of her calves and tugged it up, not knowing actually did have the flexibility, but managing to bring her foot up high enough to lean forward and lick it off of her stocking-clad sole. He watched her with way too much excitement for her own comfort, and more than that, she had to deal with the way that the salty, bitter taste of his cum on her stocking--which didn't taste very appealing by itself--made her pull back. She gave it a taste, but she quickly pulled back.

"How does it taste?" he asked, hand on his cock and openly stroking himself while her face scrunched up and she showed off visible, visceral repulsion.

"Awful," Misa admitted.

Kenji laughed it off. "Good. Now turn around and show me that cute butt again." He motioned impatiently, circling his hand around and trying to nudge her into the motion and the surrender of giving up hard. She was powerless against everything that swept up from deep within her. The way he relished in her discomfort did nothing to make this feel any better, her frustrations a burning expression of concern and heat as she accepted and gave in to the growing concerns and pressures of this mess. Misa was baffled and appalled by what swept up through her, but she did what he asked against her own better judgment. She was stuck in a position of pure hesitation here, and the dizzy pressures were only going to get worse on her as she tried to make sense of it.

Down on her hands and knees, she presented for Kenji, whose hands immediately slipped up under her dress, lifting it up and groping her through her panties, getting all over her with the shameless and greedy firmness he knew would make her squirm. Misa had to take it. She wasn't happy about it, but she knew there wasn't really any other option here, her body tensing up as she prepared for the drastic sweeps of concern and pressure striking her, opened up to the strange fevers and panics by force. "Just get it over with," she whined, not at all wanting to be in this weird position for him.

That earned her a smack right across her cheeks. "You sound eager to get my cock," he teased, tugging her panties down and sinking forward, ready to give her a treat. His cock sank into her with firm, forward motions that built up a sudden response of pure tension inside of her. His cock filled her, hands tightening onto her hips, and with a sharp tug, he slammed her down onto his lap, made her howl out in confusion and worry. The suddenness of being penetrated and taken so harshly made Misa's whole body clench, but Kenji only appreciated the tightness as he bucked faster now through the chance to push her limits and bring her a focused and pure satisfaction.

With his hand squeezing her hip and another seizing her dress, Kenji worked her back against him. The result was an increased impact with each thrust, Misa's butt smacking down against his lap as he imposed upon her his desires. It was easy to ignore how big his cock was when she just gave him a footjob, easy for her to pull back from it and fight off the crushing pressures pushing upon her. Now, with his cock inside of her and the hard pounding winding her up, the reality of just how well endowed he was crashed down on her again and again. He spread her open, forced her to gasp and struggle under the pleasures she didn't want, reluctance throbbing through her body.

Her struggle now was in fighting off the desire to moan, fighting and struggling her way through pure surrender, the greedy pulses and needs leaving her greedier, dizzier, struggling even harder to make sense of or hold back the ecstatic swells of passion driving her up the wall. She did what she could to make sense of it all, jerking back and forth under the dizzy pressure of Kenji tugging her back. And yet, she felt like her body was moving now just to move, his hold on her so tight and so forward that she didn't have a good way of fighting off what was becoming far too intense and wild to handle. Everything she understood here was a desperate attempt to make this all slow down, and her struggles to come to a reasonable understanding of how much these pressures drove her mad failed and failed harder.

"Such a pretty girl," he groaned, and every leery indulgence and reckless slam forward was his way of expressing something singular and depraved. He knew he had Misa completely helpless now against his touch, and he sought to ruin her as he threw himself harder into these pleasures, groaning under the weight and greed of fucking her, imposing upon Misa the harsh and reckless thrills he knew were only going to keep pushing him on. He was prepared to lose all control, fucking faster and greedier in the expression and ferocity of utterly giving in. He wanted it all so badly, and he would not be held back from fucking her senseless, pounding with dizzy glee into breaking her down.

The clumsy, objectified haze of getting punished for losing her book left Mesa less and less capable of handling any of what was happening to her. Kenji's cock was excessive and it imposed upon her a mess of pressure as weird and a desperate as could be. Sex had never felt so intense, never been as brutal and as imposing as it was in this singular moment, demanding of her way too much and plunging her into the deep end. She wanted to be stronger, wanted to be better, but all she got instead was the reckless thrill of getting fucked harder, burning with the reluctant panic and frustration of not wanting nay of this, but feeling better and better by the second.

An incredible, pulsating rush of orgasmic heat ripped up through her suddenly, demanding and ferocious in the passions that hit, an overbearing mess of excitement and indulgence coming on way too strong to resist. The shame and the guilt pulsed through her, reckless swells of emotions she didn't have a shred of strength against, and her crash into the ferocious pulse of pure weirdness and frustration left her confused. Kenji added on to that as he came inside of her, slamming forward to fill her up and push her hard into the gooey thrill of giving in completely. His warm mess filled her womb, and the shuddering reality creeping across Misa was a simple one.

That felt nice.

"Okay, that's it, right?" Misa asked. She was ready to pull away from him and hope that was it. He'd said a night, but he didn't really mean whole night, right? She was certain he didn't mean it, and she started to ease away from him, but Kenji's grip tightened on her, and he tugged her back toward him, guiding his cock up and slipping his way into her ass.

"Nice try, but you're my bitch all night," Kenji said, over the sound of Misa's baffled shrieks. The meaty cock challenged her in ways she hadn't yet had to be challenged, feeling the utter panic and fever of his huge dick filling her with a brutal greed and a tinge of worry searing up across her body, more intense and more dizzy than she felt she could deal with. Misa was already barely prepared for what he'd started up on her with, so the suddenness of his cock stuffing up her ass brought on all new forms of deep panic even further removed from normalcy. She hissed, thrashed, and did what she could to make these things all come to some sort of normal sense of steadiness and calm, but in its place was only brutality.

"Fuck, it's too much," she whined. The sensation of Kenji's cock stretching open her hole and brutally claiming her was so much more ferocious and brutal than she felt prepared to deal with, and her struggles grew steeper with each reckless slam. He filled her ass with something to prove, the venom and the brutality of what he sought pushing harder against her, making her whole body clench in surprise and dismay. Misa had minimal anal experience, but she felt like even with more experimentation back there, she wasn't for a moment able to act like she was in a position to do anything but break down fully. Need and panic all pushed her, bringing on a stark fever that made her head spin, teaching Misa her way through the most deranged and infuriating of pleasures, making her whole being heave back and forth under the pressures and the worries that sought to unravel her. She was stuck here, a needy mess bucking against the inevitable heats and losing herself completely.

"Be a good girl and take it," he groaned, ferocious thrusts pounding on harder and stronger as he explored all of the pleasures and passions carrying him harder forward. Kenji was prepared to do whatever necessary for the sake of pushing her, wearing her down, reducing everything she had to a gooey mess of complete fucking surrender. Misa was losing ground, more and more with each passing second, and Kenji kept up such a ferocious pace on fucking her, throwing her deeper into a baffled mess of frustration and worry that left her no time to think. Her ass received the pounding of a life time, and Mesa wasn't strong enough to handle any of it.

His balls swung forward and smacked against her twat as his cum leaked out of her, and Misa could feel the growing dizziness and panic sweep through her body. The sound of their bodies smacking together helped muffle her needy, confused whines, even as she grew louder and more panicked, struggling through emotions too tempestuous to understand. She was lost, foggily stumbling her way through pleasures that left her with no firm concept of what was happening or how to make it stop. She continued to simply give in, allowing Kenji to use her body and finding that the guilty satisfaction of letting him was only getting more intense as he had his way with her. The idea she was giving up to this was beyond unbelievable, but Misa could feel herself teetering on the verge of letting go.

It felt good. As his hand crashed across her ass and he said, "You'd make a great fucktoy," Misa didn't shoot back at him or try to chide him for his remark. She moaned. Her hips wiggled and some guilty part of her wondered if that's what he was making her, and her thoughts didn't register the kind of disgust she wanted to feel. That was the horrible truth here; Misa wanted to hate this, but she was less and less capable of doing so with each shameless pound forward. His erratic thrusts kept up a pace on her that was simply too frantic and hazy to be able to fight back against, growing more helpless a victim of all these things.

This was low. Humiliating. "Please slow down," she said. Misa had never felt weaker and never felt more embarrassed than she did in that singular moment of sweeping panic, stuck struggling back and forth to make some sense of things that she didn't have the strength to think about in particularly reasonable terms. Misa's struggles were getting away from her, and she fell deeper under his touch and into his control as he pounded her guts into oblivion. It was senseless and brutal, but driven by a firm, underlying desire to see it all through, to keep pushing her and subjecting Misa to a plain and steady passion her body decided felt really nice.

There was no slowing down. Kenji only hammered into her harder, his roughing-up of her body coming in drastic swells of fever and concern that kept Misa less and less able to hold it together. With one too-hard shove, he shoved her face-down onto the bed and fucked her faster, leaning over her and grunting his way through all the excitement and the brutality of pushing her limits. "You're enjoying this," he said. "You can pretend you don't, but I can feel your ass hole begging my cock. You love this." He wouldn't stop this treatment, pushing on faster and greedier under the chaos and the heat of something as bizarre and as wicked as could be. He knew he was in a good position here to rule her and completely overwhelm the poor girl, and he threw everything he had into making that reality.

The hopeless shudder and crash of Misa's body into complete surrender was too powerful to ignore. Hopeless and dizzy, she lost herself, thrown into the chaos and the heat of another orgasm, this time face-down on the bed and thrashing in utter embarrassment. She used a pillow to muffle the frenzied expressions of heat sweeping up through her body, determined to avoid these feelings at any cost. She was stuck here, aflame with concerns that spiraled hotter up through her body, leaving her desperate and clumsy and totally unable to focus amid her spiral into surrender and crushing submission.

Kenji pulled out and came all over Misa's ass and her back instead of filling her up. A hand crashed across her, forcing a whine from her as she felt him impose his ever-harsher, ever greedier wants upon her. As she lay in confusion and frustration, she felt like she was already teetering on the edge, like she wasn't fully processing reason any longer, shaken by a pleasure that was only going to grow. Weakly, she pushed herself up, started to try and object, try and push him back, but he just rammed his way back into her twat and fucked her all over again.

"By the time I'm done with you, you won't want to leave anymore," he promised, and pushed to ravage her through and through.

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

Kenji opened up a drink and took a long pull, his other hand on the remote as he turned on the news. He was relaxed and settled happily back in position, sitting on the edge of the mattress with Misa's body cutting through the field of garbage below his mattress, head over his lap as she bobbed up and down to tend to his meaty cock, slurping loudly on the dick that had thoroughly broken her. She was half asleep, having been woken up from her dizzy, fuck-induced coma, but that wasn't what had done the damage.

Her eyes were completely blank and lifeless, glassily staring off into space as she sucked him off, servicing the man with a completely helpless and frozen expression divorced from anything sensible or clear, understanding having slipped long away by now. Misa was broken, fucked into a state of empty-headed submission by Kenji as she worked now for his pleasure. Cum covered her now naked body all over. Her feet were a mess, toes spreading the cum out with each curl as it oozed up from her shapely legs. Both her ass and pussy leaked constantly with the stuff, a gaping mark of how totally lost she was. Her breasts and her stomach had received a bunch too, her back receiving some pull-out shots when he decided to make a mess of her body some more, and her face was now completely drenched in it. Mascara teased lay over and under the layers of cum like shameful, slutty strata marking the additions of repeated brutalities.

And now she was due for more black streaks as he seized her ponytails and facefucked her while he watched the news. She didn't do anything about him, a numb presence stripped bare of reason and understanding, whose only purpose was to satisfy Kenji's cock. That was the only purpose she needed, and she performed her duties with obedient sweeps of certain desire and frustrated acceptance. Why would she need anything else?

Kenji watched a story about the rash of murders sweeping through Japan, and remarked, "That Kira is a psychopath. A completely sick individual. What do you think, pet?" He looked down upon her, tugging her head down faster, not actually slowing down or pulling her back so she could speak. She just kept gagging her way through servicing his cock, taking him harder, deeper, gagging in chaotic surrender to his terms as she lost more and more focus, until finally he blew his load right down her throat, Misa swallowed every bitter drop, eyes rolling back into her head. Her mouth kept servicing, hands upon her belly, wondering how much of his cum he could drink before her belly burst.

But also wondering, in response to his question, "Who's Kira?"