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She doesn’t really look like Rumi.
Same big eyes, maybe, but he would never have been able to mistake Sumire’s bright long hair with Rumi’s, and Rumi’s eyes always had more life to them -- well, before. They were always bright, before. Sumire’s eyes always looked like Rumi’s had after the accident, soulless and unbearably sad. Sumire had many similarities with Rumi after the accident, actually, but that hadn’t been the Rumi he’d fallen in love with.
Now, Kasumi -- Kasumi was a lot like Rumi. Bubbly and sweet, eager to please. That was what had done it, was Kasumi. But Kasumi didn’t come until later.
It hadn’t started like this, is the point. It’s what he tells himself when the guilt starts to choke him, when he can’t look in the mirror without flinching. He had wanted to help. Truly, and completely, with no ulterior motives. He had wanted to help. And he had wanted to do what Sumire wanted, what was best for her. She had wanted to be Kasumi, so he made her Kasumi.
And Kasumi was so different. Bright, and warm, she bounded into therapy sessions with an enthusiasm that made something swell in his chest. She was so much like Rumi used to be, and he began looking forward to when she came in. She lit up his office, his day; infectiously cheerful, he began counting the days down until he saw her. It was dangerous territory, and he should have recognized that. Should have shut it down then. But he didn't.
And now he’s here.
And he’s pretty sure. Almost completely. But almost means there is a part of him, however small it might be, that is constantly worried that he is… pulling the strings on this. That he was subconsciously manipulating his control over her cognition, making her feel these things, making her want things. He’s pretty sure he isn’t. He thinks he would know. But the concern is always there, when she shuts the door to his office behind her, biting her lip, or when she sinks to her knees and looks up at him with those eyes, that she doesn’t want this after all. He wishes it was enough to make him stop.
But God, she’s just like Rumi.
It started at Shujin. She’d eat lunch with him nearly every day, and he should have stopped it, but he knew she didn’t really have any friends, and it was… nice. She never treated these times like therapy sessions; they never talked about her dead sister, or her concerns about gymnastics. Their lunch times were something special. It always reminded him of coming home and telling Rumi about his day. Sumi always seemed genuinely interested, always laughed at his bad jokes, always wanted to hear about his research. Her eyes sparkled again. She was quite beautiful, actually. Sometimes she let him try her lunch, and he would compliment her cooking, and she would blush.
She was the one who kissed him. He knows it’s not much of a defense, but it’s something he still tells himself. It was after one of her therapy sessions; he had offered her a snack, and she had leaned forward, but instead of taking the snack she ran her hand from his wrist to his elbow and kissed him. It was nice, and chaste, and innocent, and it made something dark roil in Takuto's gut, some dark, possessive thing stirred to life in his chest, awoken by a fifteen year old girl. He's disgusted with himself.
He kisses back.
He thinks about altering her memory again, after that. Hell, he thinks about altering his memory after that. But Sumi plays with the pleats of her skirt nervously, and looks up at him through her eyelashes, and she asks if she could come see him tomorrow, too. His cock twitches in his pants and he says yes.
He hates himself so fucking much, but he doesn’t hate himself enough to stop.
It’s easy, after that. Sumi is so eager to please, so receptive to praise. She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him at lunch time, still gripping her lunch box, and it’s easy to grab her arm, slip his tongue into her mouth when she gasps. When she pulls away her lips are wet and red, and she says, “That was my first real kiss.”
The dark thing in his gut grows bigger.
She still comes to therapy sessions, and he still does his best to help. They talk about her dead sister and her lackluster gymnastics performance. Takuto pictures her in a leotard, long legs on display. He thinks about other people seeing her like that and scowls; she senses his changing mood.
“Are you alright, Dr. Maruki?”
He says, “Come here, Sumi.”
She does. He motions to his lap and she sits in it carefully, biting her lip as her ass settles on his cock. His hands flex on her hips. “I’m very proud of the progress you’re making,” he says. She ducks her head, hands settling lightly on Takuto’s chest. “But you do still have a long way to go. You suffered a very profound loss. It is going to take a while before you bounce back completely, and that includes your gymnastics performance. You need to continue to be patient, and to come see me. We can work on it together.”
She nods, hands curling into fists, and she says, “Maybe you could come to one of my meets. I think it would really help me, to have you there.”
It feels like electricity zipping up his spine. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If you think it would help,” he says, “Then I would be glad to.”
She places second in that meet. She is ecstatic about it, bouncing up and down on her toes, a wide grin on her face. Like this -- happy, enthusiastic, glowing, she looks a lot like Rumi. She grabs his hand and pulls him into a supply closet; “You’re my good luck charm,” she says. She uses too much tongue when she kisses, too overeager and inexperienced. It’s cute, really. “I want to thank you, Dr. Maruki,” she says, and he thinks that the breathy way she’s speaking is her attempt to be seductive. It doesn’t have the effect that she likely wants, but that’s alright, because she drops to her knees right after, which certainly makes up for it.
He’s half-hard already by the time she pulls his cock out of his pants. Her eyes widen minutely, and something a bit like pride and a lot like shame hits him, but he ignores it in favour of placing a hand on Sumi’s head and whispering, mouth completely dry, “Good girl, Sumi.”
The first lick is tentative, her tongue flicking out to tease the head of his cock. He wants to grab a hold of her ridiculously hairsprayed bun, wants to push into the warmth of her mouth, but he holds back. He doesn’t want to push her too far. He wants her to think she’s in control. She gets more and more daring, lifting his cock to lick up the underside, and when he lets out a moan she looks up at him through her eyelashes and smiles. Her face is heavy with makeup because of her performance. He doesn’t like it. Rumi never wore makeup; he wants to smear it off her face. He wants to ruin it.
“Does it feel good, Sensei?”
God, she’s a minx. She rests his cock on her lip, tongue swirling around the tip. He is leaking pre-cum and he watches as she swallows it. Her nose scrunches up slightly at the taste, but she persists, taking him further into her mouth. Her lips stretch enticingly around his girth, drool spilling out of her mouth and onto the closet floor, but she’s barely half way down when she gags and pulls back, coughing. Frustration hits him, but he pushes it down, petting her on the head instead.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says. “You’re doing so well.”
Sumi coughs again, but her eyes narrow in determination and she takes him into her mouth again. He can’t stop the moan this time, fingers digging into her scalp. She pushes deeper, drooling liberally on his cock as he nudges against the back of her throat. He wants so badly to push into her throat, to hold her head still and fuck her face, but he doesn’t, instead letting her set her own pace. It doesn’t matter much, really, because he’s really not going to last that long. He hasn’t really been with anyone since Rumi, so it isn’t long before the sloppy blowjob works him to orgasm. He waits until the last second before he pulls out of Sumi’s mouth, coming across her face. She closes her eyes as it hits, jolting in surprise; Takuto watches as cum drips over her eyelid, smearing her mascara, and if he were a younger man the sight alone would have made him hard again.
“I’m so sorry,” he lies, kneeling down and grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to wipe the cum off of Sumi’s face. “I didn’t mean to get it on your face.”
“That’s okay,” she says, eyes still closed as he cleans her up. Each wipe of the cloth wipes away both cum and makeup. Her lips are bright red, wet and swollen and enticing, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss her lightly.
She blushes. She had just had his dick in her mouth, and she blushed at the kiss.
“There,” he says, grabbing her by the hands and pulling her up, tucking himself back in his pants. “I’m afraid I did ruin your makeup, though. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s alright,” she says, opening her eyes. “I don’t really like wearing the stuff, anyway.” She grins widely up at him, standing up on tiptoes to press her lips to his cheek. “I’ll see you on Monday, Dr. Maruki,” she says before slipping out of the closet. Takuto watches her go.
Sometimes he sees her talking to Akira Kurusu. He can always hear the sweet, chipper way she says senpai, the smile on her face whenever she sees him. Takuto likes Kurusu. He really likes Kurusu, actually. But the way Sumi looks at him grates on Takuto’s nerves. He’s always a little bit rougher after he’s seen her with Kurusu. Never anything too far; he just holds her hips a little tighter, sets a slightly harsher pace. He isn’t being fair, he knows, but that isn’t going to stop him.
Sometimes, when he sees the way she looks at Kurusu, he wonders if maybe he is altering her cognition without knowing, if those glances and smiles are small glimpses of her actual desires shining through. The thought makes him sick, but just like all the others, it doesn’t make him stop.
The first time he fucks her, she’s come to see him after school. She sits on his lap and kisses him and lets him fondle her breasts, lets him pinch her nipples and bite down on her collarbone, and he slides his hand up her back and says, “I want to make love to you, Sumi.” He keeps his voice soft. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s pushing.
She bites her lip, his favourite habit of hers. She looks down at his lap. Her face is bright red, and she says, “I… I’ve been thinking. About that. A-and I… I want to, too.”
He fucks her face to face, the first time. He wants to make it special for her, he supposes. She’s almost unbearably tight around him. He wishes so badly that he wasn’t wearing a condom, but she had been adamant, watching as he rolled it on and lined up with her hole. Her sweater was pulled up above her chest, bra pulled down so her perky little tits were out. Takuto leans down and takes a nipple in his mouth, relishing in the filthy little moan she lets out.
“How do you feel, Sumi?”
She moans again, hiking her legs up higher around his waist. Her eyes are closed, fingers clutching the sleeves of his shirt desperately. “Full,” she says, voice shaky. “It’s so big, Sensei, I feel so full.”
He almost comes right there. He manages to hold off, just barely. She’s getting louder, and even though he desperately wants to hear they’re in danger of someone overhearing, so he gently pushes two fingers into her mouth. He really isn’t going to last long; he leans down and kisses the shell of her ear and says, “You’re so beautiful, Kasumi. Such a good girl for me.”
He comes; when he’s finished he pulls out, ties the condom, wraps it in a tissue and then shoves it into his pocket to dispose of at home. Then he gets down on his knees and drapes her legs over his shoulders.
“W-what are you doing?” She asks, still a little dazed.
“I never want this to be one-sided,” he says sincerely. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Can I do that?”
Slowly, she nods. Takuto leans in and seals his mouth over her cunt. She tastes near intoxicating. He wants to devour her whole.
The next time he bends her over his desk, flips her skirt up over her ass and pulls her tights down. He can’t wait until summer uniform starts, when he doesn’t have to deal with pantyhose anymore. He has a half a mind to just rip the goddamn things and keep a stack of extras in his office, but he’s not sure how he would explain that if anyone found it.
“Don’t forget a condom, Dr. Maruki,” she says, as he pushes on her back, lowering herself until her breasts are pressed against the cool metal. “I-I’m not on any birth control.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, as he pulls his cock out. He spreads her ass cheeks, takes a look at her holes so perfectly on display for him. “I’m wearing a condom,” he lies. “I’m being careful so nothing happens to you.” That, at least, isn’t a lie. His powers are growing beyond anything he’d ever imagined, giving him control over so much -- he’s certain that if it came down to it, he could use his powers to terminate a second heartbeat, if needed. It’s worth it, for this, for the warmth and tightness of her stretched around his cock, unimpeded by latex. He runs the tip of his cock up and down her folds, feeling her wetness, and he spreads her ass cheeks again as he pushes in, watching as his cock disappears into her tight little pussy. It’s mesmerizing; he pumps into her slowly, watching the back and forth, as she clings to him as he pulls out, as she opens so easily for him when he pushes back in. She has such a perfect body, and it belongs to him alone. No matter what happens in the future, he will always have been the first one to see her like this.
“Sensei,” she whimpers. She wiggles her hips a little bit. “Why are you going so slow?”
He chuckles. “Be patient, Sumi,” he says. “Let me take care of you.”
He increases his pace. Her hands are gripping the edge of his desk, head buried in her arm as he lifts her hips up, shoving even deeper inside of her. Before Sumi he hadn’t really ever sought out sex, so busy with his research and always finding women wanting compared to Rumi, but Sumi feels incredible, clenched perfectly tight around him and so wet. He loves how wet she gets, loves the way it drips down his cock. She gets embarrassed by it, but he tells her she shouldn’t be.
“Dr. Maruki,” she says, toes stretched out to try and gain some purchase on the ground, trying to push back onto him. “Please, please…”
She’s his. The realization hits him like a bolt of lightning. It doesn’t matter who she looks at, or smiles at. Sumi gave her smiles away easily, but he was the only one who had her spread open on a desk, split open on his cock. The thought takes a hold of him, and he grips her hips hard and slams in as deep as he can, spilling inside of her, filling her up with his cum, claiming her for the very first time. He pulls his cock out and keeps her ass cheeks spread, watching as cum drips slowly out of her hole. He wants to take a picture, wants to keep the image forever.
She goes to move, and he places a hand on her back to steady her. “One second,” he says kindly. “Let me get rid of the condom, and then I’ll help you.”
As he helps her get dressed, she smiles at him. She trusts him completely, and guilt pangs inside of him, but the thought of his cum inside of her without her even knowing overrides any other feeling. He should be disgusted with himself; instead he just feels utterly sated.
She kisses him again. His power only grows.
Summer uniforms prove as perfect as he had thought. He fucks her quickly during lunch times, pushing her underwear aside and sliding easily into her wetness, fucking her quickly on the couch as voices chatter outside the door, a hand shoved over her mouth to keep her quiet. He fucks her in an empty classroom during a school assembly, holding her up against the wall as he bounces her on his cock, coming deep inside of her with a groan stifled into her skin. He doesn’t even bother lying about the condom, anymore, just twists the cognition the slightest bit. It’s a gross misuse of power, but every time he’s finished with her, when he sees his cum sliding down her skin out of her hole, he can’t bring himself to care. One sunny day she comes to see him after school, face flushed and lip swollen from being bit so much, and he gestures her over to him.
“Did you do as I asked?” He asks, running a hand up her leg. She nods. “Bend over my desk for me, Sumi,” he says, and she does, flipping her skirt up without him even having to ask. He almost bites through his own lip when he sees her with no underwear on, and the glint of the plug in her ass. He walks over to her, pulling it out slightly and watching the way her rim stretches around it. “Good girl, Sumi,” he says, and she whimpers. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Dr. M-maruki,” she says nervously, as he continues to play with the toy in her ass. “I don’t know about this.”
He is already reaching for the packet of lube he had tucked into his pockets today, dropping his pants down to his ankles and spreading it over his cock. “Don’t worry, Sumi,” he says, but he’s only half listening. “You know I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“I, I just -- ah!” He pulls the plug out completely, watching the way her ass gapes open. He dribbles lube from the packet onto her hole and then lines his cock up, heart beating in his throat. He looks impossibly big next to her; the head of his cock nudges at her hole, and she grabs the edge of the desk.
“I know you can do this for me, Sumi,” he says, pushing in past resistance and watching as he splits her open, her rim stretching around him as he pushes into her ass. Sumi is whimpering, now -- it might be crying. He’s too distracted to tell. “You’re absolutely perfect, so good for me. Just a bit more.”
He closes his eyes when he finally bottoms out, hips pushed flush against her skin. She’s so tight it almost hurts, but it serves as a good distraction from her sniffling. His hands grab her hips and lift them up, angling her and pulling out slowly before he pushes in again. He goes a little harder each time, until he is nearly shoving her across the desk with each thrust, until her ass is red from the slap of skin. He can’t hear any sound she’s making; all he can hear is the rush of blood in his own ears as he fucks her harder than he ever has before.
He had seen her with Kurusu today.
He comes deep in her ass, admiring the way her hole gapes when he pulls out. He takes the plug and pushes it back inside of her. “I want you to keep that in until you get home,” he says, rubbing a hand over her ass. “Can you do that for me?”
He helps her up. There are tear streaks on her face, and he wipes them away. “Can you keep the plug in for me Sumi? Just for a bit more?”
She nods. He straightens the bow in her hair and then leans down to kiss her; she grips his waist tightly and he smooths her hair down, pressing his cheek to the top of her head as she shakes in his arms. “Good girl, Rumi,” he says softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”