Marin Kitagawa

Marin was familiar with this love hotel, but that felt like a distant and dreamy memory now. She walked the halls, trench coat sealed around her like a Ziploc bag. The door didn’t look any different from the others she passed, but it felt familiar. It felt like excited memories and loving glances. It felt like unknown feelings and timid touching. It felt like Gojou. But she wasn’t here for Gojou. She was here for Marinfan40. And he was not Gojou.

She rapped twice, tiny hand quivering, and swallowed the growing lump in her throat. There was still a chance to leave, turn around and head home, pretend like this never happened. But she knew she’d never do that, even with it being a valid option. It was too late now; she’d gone too far. The love hotel’s door swung open and a man twice her age loomed over her. Flinching beneath him, the girl was swallowed up inside his massive shadow.

“You came.” He said, his voice deep but dancing with excitement.

“Yeah, like, I didn’t have a choice.” She said, tugging the collar up higher, as if that would protect her somehow.

“Are you wearing the outfit?” He was well built, built enough to overpower her. But he’d made certain every choice had been her own, up to this point. Every decision she’d made was done of her own volition. That’s what he lorded over her and damned her ever closer to hell.

“Yes.” She mumbled, eyes on the floor.

“Show me.”

“Not here.” Marin looked down the hall, expecting someone to recognize her.

“How about inside?” He posed it like a question, and in a certain light it was. But then again, lately her choices felt like they were not her own.

Two weeks ago, she’d gotten a message on her fan page from someone named Marinfan40. Not only did her blood curdle at the idea someone knew her by her real name, and not the alias she posed under, but that they had the audacity to message her out in the open. If she’d been smart, she would’ve deleted the message then and there. But no, she had to open it because curiosity would’ve devoured her from the inside. Instead a nightmare swallowed her whole.

There were pictures, of Gojou to be more specific, taken from outside their school building. Images of him raiding the desk of one of their instructors. Clear as day, she could discern they were answer sheets to the prior month’s exams. Exams he’d passed with flying colors, much to his grandfather’s pride. And beneath all those photos were three chilling words: message me back.

What followed was a bitter exchange between two strangers, though one clearly knew more about the other. It was this knowledge causing Marin’s hatred and fear to grow within her like a patch of briars, spreading out and enveloping her heart. He’d asked for simple things at first. A picture of her school ID, a photograph of her smiling for him, trivial little things that slowly eroded her soul. And then came the day he asked for a picture of her in a swimsuit, then in less than a swimsuit, and it all devolved from there. All to the point of showing up at a love hotel Marinfan40 should know nothing about in an outfit he shouldn’t have known existed. But there were a lot of things he knew, and even more now, and that’s why she needed to do this.

Once the door was closed, Marin shed her coat and let it crumple to the floor. Even though she was still fully clothed, she was bearing something special to this stranger. Only she and Gojou knew about her next cosplay, not even their inner circle was aware of it. But somehow 40 knew it existed. Marin looked up, her straight blonde wig hanging around her shoulders and the white gown with armor plating rising and falling with every heave of her chest.

Metal plating ran over her chest and arms, a short white gown beneath it. Her blue boots ran all the way up to her thighs, little iron stars at the top. The dress was so tight her naval showed through the fabric, making her current predicament even more invasive. She’d been most enamored with the armor Gojou had managed to summon up, it wasn’t like the painted rubber she’d seen other cosplayers use. It was thin and flexible material, light enough it didn’t bog her down while still retaining its level of authenticity. Gojou had spent most of the month learning and perfecting it. It was perfect.

40 took her by the chin, lifting it up so he could see her amber eyed contacts. “It’s perfect.” He muttered, tilting her head back and forth like she was a doll. “You’re the spitting image of Aiz Wallenstein. Gojou really knows what he’s doing.”

“Don’t say his name.” Marin snapped, baring her teeth.

“I can say whatever I want.” 40 smiled, “now be a good girl and pose for the pictures.” He lifted a cell phone and pointed it at her. It was black, without any remarkable features she could use to identify him later. He was the same, wearing a white shirt and black tie, blue pants, and brown shoes. His face was plain, his hair dark, she wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup if seven random men from the subway stood next to him.

Marin steeled her heart, lifting her armor-clad hands like she was ready to strike with an invisible blade. She’d studied Aiz’s poses from the anime Dan Machi. Practiced for the upcoming convention that was supposed to be her grand debut of their latest extravagant cosplay. Fans were clamoring for her return, and she was ashamed to admit she loved it. Not just every moment of embodying her beloved characters, but also the adoration of fans who’d want their pictures taken with her. But maybe it was that same pride and need for attention that’d led her down the path she was on now.

CLICK

The camera snapped a picture, it couldn’t have been of good quality. Not with a phone like his, not compared to the high-quality cameras she was used to. But she quickly took another pose, waiting for him to find the proper lighting. As if he cared about that. No, this was all a move to demonstrate his power over her. She was his doll now, a toy.

CLICK

She shuddered, the metal on her outfit rattling, it was gross doing this in such an intimate setting for someone who wasn’t a friend. Not even mentioning the fact, a little part of her nagged at how the setting didn’t fit Aiz in the slightest. Aiz was an honorable knight and wouldn’t be caught dead in a love hotel. But authenticity didn’t matter to 40. So she struck another pose, trying to fling her wig out so it looked like she’d felled a great beast and was in the heat of battle.

She shuddered, it felt gross doing this in such an intimate setting for someone who wasn’t Gojou or one of her friends. She struck another pose, trying to fling her wig out so it looked like she’d just accomplished some great feat.

CLICK

Maybe it wouldn’t get worse than this. Maybe he just wanted pictures of her cosplay.

“Now lift the skirt.”

Maybe she was stupider than she thought.

Trembling fingers lifted the bottom of her white skirt, the material shaking as she slowly pulled it up past her thighs until it was just barely covering her barely protected groin. He wanted more, she knew he would take it all, but she was hoping beyond hope he might show a bit of mercy.

“All the way.”

“Please…”

“All the way.”

She tugged them up, exposing her shaved mound to him, looking away as to not see those hungry eyes raping her body. If he was impressed, he didn’t show it. He bent low, pointed the camera down beneath her skirt. He’d asked her not to wear any panties, because of course he did, but it didn’t stop the flush from reaching her cheeks.

CLICK

“Now can you get on your knees for me?” Such a simple question posed as friendly and almost kind. Leaving the decision completely up to her. Swallowing, she knelt down, the armored knee guards mashing into the carpeted floor. They weren’t made to be knelt on, and she whimpered as she felt them begin to strain beneath her.

“Good girl, now can you open your mouth for me?”

Again, a question. But Marin pursed her plump lips before prying them open, her amber eyes looking directly into his. Aiz would never do this; Aiz would kill him for even suggesting it. But she wasn’t Aiz. She was nothing.

He spat into her mouth.

Marin balked, rolling onto her side, and retching onto the floor. She spat his essence out of her, feeling his evil invading her body. She felt sick. Diseased.

“Once you’re done with that, mind taking my cock out for me?”

Marin’s eyes widened with terror; she knew something along these lines was coming but she didn’t expect it to happen so soon. They still had at least fifty minutes left before the allotted time in the love hotel would run out, this could’ve waited a little longer. At least until she felt more comfortable. Comfortable. Right, he wouldn’t even let her know his real name.

Not saying anything, and only wiping the spittle from her mouth, Marin looked back at 40. His phone was still pointed in her direction, the light stayed on this time. He was filming. She could’ve sunk through the ground, dissolved into nothing, but no. She had to do this. Gojou had done so much for her, she had to repay his generosity in kind. So, she reached for the man’s belt and with a clinking, she unbuckled it.

He didn’t so much as flop out, but spring out. He was hard and long, longer than any she’d seen before. But those were boys from high school. He twitched in front of her large eyes, his heavy sack hanging beneath it as his pants slid down further. Marin swallowed, struggling to invent reasons to leave.

“I trust you know what to do?” He asked, phone still pointed down at her.

Yeah, she’d done it before. She wasn’t a tramp who went around giving them out for free, but she had done it with a boyfriend once or twice to get him to stop bothering her for more. It always felt dirty and uncomfortable, and she never ended up enjoying it. They’d just fish around in her mouth for a while, grunt and wheeze, before she made them pull out and cum into a hanky. Then they’d leave her alone for the rest of the day.

The only difference between this and then was this wasn’t the end of something. This was the start of another. She opened her mouth, waiting for him to step forward and press it inside. But he shook his head, beckoning her to come closer. She inched her way forwards, bit by agonizing bit. The heat emanating from it was nauseating, he wanted her so badly but was still playing coy. Steeling herself, she decided it was best to get this over with quickly.

Leaning forward, she took his cockhead into her mouth. She didn’t touch it with her tongue or move in any way, she just held him there. Grimacing at the salty flavor of his sweat. He felt rubbery, kind of like the outside of a plum. She waited for him to begin thrusting, to lose himself to the pleasure. But he never did, he didn’t even twitch. He just held there like some great unmoving thing.

“Marin.” She shivered when he said her name. “I’m not like the other little boys. I don’t care how warm or wet your slutty mouth is, I want you to choke yourself on me. Remember, you don’t have to. I’m not planning on ruining your life, after all. Do you understand?”

She nodded; pink lips still wrapped around his cock. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, she pressed her mouth further down his shaft. She began to salivate instinctively, her tongue moistening as it felt something pressed against it. As she stretched open for him, she felt his veins drag over her lips, her lower jaw quivering as she downed his monstrous appendage. He was bigger than she’d ever felt, rubbing against her soft and squishy tongue. Blood pulsed through his rod like electricity through a wire.

“You can massage my balls.”

Movements slow, robotic, her hands drifted to his cum laden balls, her delicate fingers running over them gently. She didn’t know what she was doing, only how warm he felt and how heavy they were. His hair prickled against her skin, it was wiry and unpleasant to touch. Marin took one of his balls in her hands and rubbed her thumb over it, gently with the innocence of a virgin.

Careful not to brush him against her teeth, she eased him to the point where he was sitting near her tonsils. She could taste something now, the strong flavor of sea water. She wanted to retch but knew better, she needed to be good for him. She pressed herself down harder, clenching her eyes shut as her little throat widened to accommodate him. And she handled it well, right up until he brushed against her tonsils and she gagged, pulling off and sputtering on the floor. There wasn’t any way she could take him all. No possible way.

He didn’t say anything, and when she looked back at him, his eyes were void of emotion. He didn’t show the slightest ounce of remorse or pleasure. He just watched her gag, holding her slender throat, eyes tearing up. But 40 waited, patiently, strands of saliva hanging from his tip. She had to do it, she needed to finish the job.

Pushing herself back up, she picked the thread of spit from his cock and wiped it on the floor, careful not to get it on her outfit. She looked up at him, eyes begging for mercy.

“You’re doing great.” He said, lowering the phone closer to her face, cheeks hollowed as she suckled on him.

Marin opened for him again, forcing him in as best as she could. She was quicker this time, and when she got to the back of her throat again, she didn’t hesitate. She forced him past her gag reflex and further down her gullet. Her throat tightened around him, threatening to gag, but she smothered that feeling. Learning if she breathed through her nose made things easier, her nostrils twitched as she sucked in as much air as her lungs could handle. Her eyes watered and saliva dripped down her chin, but she needed to do this.

He didn’t buck forward or even touch her hair. He just stood there, letting her do this. He didn’t moan or groan, or even breathe hard. He was inhuman, an uncaring monster. Swallowing, massaging him with her throat, she took more and more of him down. It was slow going, especially without his help, but she was doing it. She was deep throating her first cock.

“You’re doing very well.”

There shouldn’t have been a swell of pride, but there was, and she hated herself for it.

She was nearing his thatch of hair now, her nose brushing against his thick bristles. He smelled like sour musk; it was a hot day outside and his sweat glistened in his hair. She suddenly heaved, about to pull all the way off again, but instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him towards her the rest of the way. In one violent move, she down his whole cock and buried her face in his pubes.

“Such a good girl.” He said, and she died a little inside. “Are you choking?”

Marin sputtered, spit spraying across his balls.

“It feels nice.” He said, “I’ll probably cum soon if you hold there.”

Soon? How long is soon? Her eyes bloodshot, she gagged and coughed around his cock, her lips going numb as she held there for him. Hot heavy tears dripped down her face and joined the spittle on her chin, leaking into her thigh high boots.

“Make a noise if I can touch your head.”

“Glaaucckkk!” Her mouth opened just enough to make that sound.

Without hesitation, he threw his phone on the bed. Grabbing the sides of her head, he began sliding her back off. Convulsing around him, she could’ve kissed him knowing he’d spared her from choking even a little bit longer. But then he drew her back down, and her eyes widened. He wasn’t showing mercy, he was fucking her throat.

“Gluuk-gluuk-gluuk-gluuk!” Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she tried to escape into her mind. He was getting into it now, his cock sawing in and out of her mouth with ease. He wasn’t being the objective observer this time, he was fucking her hole.

“Get rid of this…” He ripped off her wig, throwing it to the floor. Her real hair spilled out, dyed with a hint of pink. “I didn’t come here to fuck Aiz. I came here to fuck you!” Hammering, skull fucking her without remorse, her mouth made sloppy and squelching noises. Spit sprayed from her nostrils as her airways were cut off, her lips beginning to turn a shade of blue. She could only pray he’d be done soon. That his next buck against her pretty face would be his last.

But he kept going, kept fucking her, kept shouting obscenities at her. She was a whore, a slut, a slit, a hole, a bitch, everything she feared this rendezvous would make her. Ropes of drool swung down beneath her, and some still cognizant part of her worried about it staining her outfit.

“Fuck!” He bottomed out, her eyes bulging as he pulsed inside her mouth with rabid intensity. One spurt was sent to her belly, right before he yanked out and began furiously stroking over her body.

Spewing up cum and spit, she held up her hands to protect her costume. Between coughs, she yelled, “Nooo!” But he didn’t listen, painting her armor and skirt with his heavy cream. It eased beneath her breastplate and stained her gown. It ravaged the gloves on her hands and sunk into her boots. It was everywhere, goopy and slimy and reeking of salt water.

She manically wiped the cum from her dress, clawing at it to pull it away from something so beautiful and made with devotion and love. But by doing so, the knee guards beneath her snapped under her wild wriggling. “No!” She sobbed, collapsing to the floor. She cried, drool escaping her lips, eyes blurred by tears.

She didn’t even realize what he’d done until he threw her wig at her face. It was sticky, he’d cleaned himself off on it. She looked up at him in a mixture of hatred and despair. “I hate you.”

“See you next week.” He smiled. “But bring that Black Lily one next time. The cum will really stain that one.”

“I could report you.” She sniveled. “I’m still in school.”

“Yeah, and then Gojou won’t be.” He smirked. “Monday sounds good to me.”

He left her, huddled on the floor, cum quickly drying into a crust on her dress. And then he said something that broke her.

“You made some great choices today.”

Marin wept loudly, clutching her stomach, knowing he was right.