Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11229273.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Stella_Glow
  Relationship:
      Alto/Sakuya
  Character:
      Alto_(Stella_Glow), Sakuya_(Stella_Glow)
  Additional Tags:
      Harbinger!Alto, Roleplay, Post-Canon, No_Spoilers, minor_fluff_at_the
      end, I_don't_think_it_constitutes_the_tag
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-02 Words: 6168
****** Fiery Night ******
by priestessofouroboros
Summary
     During the siege of Amatsu, the Fire Witch is captured by an
     unfamiliar member of the Harbingers. He takes his chance to play
     conqueror with her, or so the story goes. (Post-Ending)
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
“You’re pretty damn adorable, you know that?”
The room was quiet, stagnant. Dread crept over her, and she wouldn't give him
the satisfaction of hearing it on her voice.
His face broke into that hideous grin regardless, and he gave a short bark of
laughter. “What, the silent treatment? You wound me.” He jerked at the rope
around her hands. “We’ll fix that soon enough.”
How on earth did this asshole manage to capture her? Shouldn't those knights
have enough training to defeat one Harbinger? Shouldn’t they be able to find
her? Shouldn't—
“Hey. Lemme see that face again.”
She didn't have a choice. If she didn't meet his gaze herself, he'd just
humiliate her further. Begrudgingly, she raised her head, glaring at him with
open disgust.
She hated him. She hated the way his eyes roamed her body, hated the
unrestrained hunger in his smile, hated how he touched her, with such assurance
as if it was his right.
But most of all, she hated his eyes—his stupid, beautiful eyes—they were such a
clear shade of blue, so expressive and so genuine. There was a quality of
softness held within those eyes, such a stark contrast to the beast that leered
through them that she could almost think he stole them.
He smirked down at her, standing just inches from where she was forced to
kneel. “My, you know, anger isn't a good look for most people, but somehow it
just makes you look even cuter. Your temper suits you, Fire Witch.”
“Oh, come on. Enough with the prose.” She forced an irritated sigh, which came
out far shakier than she intended. “Get on with it. Or are you gonna monologue
about it first?”
He grinned wider, her insults only seeming to delight him further. “Hey, I
don't appreciate my efforts being ignored,” he snickered, his voice taking on
an unsettlingly playful tone. “I thought my choice in venue was
rather...appropriate.”
The Priestess said nothing, refusing to move a muscle. Don't give in. Don't
talk back to him. Don't let him get under your skin.
“I guess you're going to make me say it. You really are quite cruel.” He
paused, closing his eyes and prolonging the moment. He was trying to get every
last bit of anguish from her that he could, but she wasn't going to let him.
“...You understand the significance of a gentleman calling a lady to her
bedroom, no?” He spoke the words slowly, deliberately, let her think on the
meaning of each one before moving to the next.
She felt the impulse to shift on the sheets, but she pushed it back. He doesn't
scare you. “And you understand the significance? Those knights may be thick,
but they're just average enough to check here first,” she said. She made every
effort to sound confident, unafraid, but she was slipping.
He quirked his head to the side, with such mirth that she could feel that he
had been waiting to answer that question. “Nah. I sent a couple grunts to the
volcano ahead of me. Also got some posted around the shrine. That should
distract them long enough...give us some private time.”
“You know what? Forget it,” she said, struggling to keep her voice level.
Speaking as if nothing fazed her was all she could do to keep from trembling.
“Just take what you want and go, or whatever. I'm tired of hearing your voice.”
He chuckled in that kind of awful way, the way that let her know she hadn’t
fooled him at all. “Oh, Sakuya, have I been so rude to make you misunderstand?”
he said, savoring the way she flinched at her name. “I don't do this with other
girls, you know. And I’m not doing this to ‘take what I want and go’. No...” He
lashed out his hand, seizing her hair and forcing her so close to his face she
could feel his breath.
“I want...to break you. For the perfect little Priestess, the very image of
purity, to shatter, completely. I want to see you cry. I want you to feel your
mind at war with your flesh, to be utterly helpless to resist as your body
disobeys. I want to see you squirm, writhe, tremble, as your mind clouds
further and further, fracturing you, until you just can't take it anymore, and
your last cry for help turns into a desperate, pleading moan. But more than
anything...I want to hear you sing.”
He released her roughly, drawing himself back up as she remained motionless.
Her eyes were wide, all of the terror finally catching up to her, keeping her
petrified. She couldn't hope to feign courage anymore. All she could do was try
not to cry.
He fitted a hand under her chin, guiding her gaze to his once again. She didn't
resist very much this time. She didn't have the presence of mind to. “And
that...that kind of raw fear...that’s a bonus.”
She couldn't move. She couldn't stop him. She couldn't do anything on her own.
She had known she was doomed, but this solidified it. Sakuya tried to focus on
anything other than him, anything but that horrific smile that had never left
his face. Her attention drifted to her hands, still bound against her back. If
she could just move them, then maybe–
“I won't hurt you,” he said, forcing her out of her vain hope. “I’m going to
make absolutely positive that you don't feel pain. It wouldn't be as fun if you
did.”
His arrogance grounded her, at least for the moment. “Oh, you're not gonna hurt
me? I can't promise the same from me, jackass,” she growled. She realized how
weak and out of place the words sounded, but her crumbling facade was her only
means to resist.
“Well you’re right, you’re not that secure.” The Harbinger moved behind her,
grabbing her wrists and raising them above her back. She felt his hand against
hers as he touched her bindings, and tried fruitlessly to pull away. “Your
hands are held tight, true...” he continued, his voice almost singsong, “...but
what of the rest of you? You can squirm around all you want.”
He slammed her bound arms against her back, the force making her fall flat
against the sheets; her legs were still left in the kneeling position. She was
given no chance to recover as he harshly shoved her head down, pinning the rest
of her.
“There. Still feel too mobile?”
Sakuya squirmed and wriggled about as much as possible, but he only pushed her
down harder. She could barely breathe, but she knew what kind of position she
was in. She tried to flatten herself out, so she wasn't so vulnerable, but he
weighed down her legs with his own, making him practically grind against her.
Damn. Shit.
“Are we done? As much as I love to see you struggle...” His hands moved against
her body, reaffirming the hopelessness of the situation. She was absolutely,
totally, ultimately powerless. “...Even more, I want to see you writhe.”
She couldn't just stop. Not now. She had to fight. If she didn't...
She felt his hand on her shin. She pulled away with all her might. She thrashed
and screamed. But all her struggles yielded only a small chuckle from her
captor, and an effortless tug to get her back into place. His silence was
pronounced, deliberate, telling her all she needed to know.
His hand reached her thigh. Don’t. She screamed again, her pleas muffled by the
sheets she was pressed into. Don’t do it. She could feel the buds of tears at
the corners of her eyes. Don’t cry.
He slid his hand all the way up her thigh, ignoring her desperate pleading to
stop, grinning as he shifted aside her rather short dress to reveal her
panties. He paused for a moment, then chuckled.
“Strawberries? You really are way too adorable, Priestess. I'll make sure you
enjoy this.”
He’s so fucking disgusting. He’s enjoying himself, like he's playing a game.
I'm just a game to him. Her voice was getting hoarse from screaming. I'm a game
that he’s winning.
Everything froze as she felt his touch on the hem of her underwear. He stopped
his progress altogether, lingering on that spot, wordlessly telling her that
this was her last moment before he robbed her of her innocence.
He hummed contentedly, then beginning to rub her through the thin fabric. She
jolted at the sudden contact, but he seemed to be focused on something else.
“Hmm? Oh...” he murmured, his voice sickeningly triumphant. “I wasn’t expecting
you to be wet already.”
WHAT?! THERE’S NO WAY THAT—her thoughts and cries were cut short as he roughly
slid two of his fingers past her panties and into her, forcing a strangled gasp
from her throat. She cursed herself for letting him catch her off guard, even
more for letting a noise escape. It had just been so sudden—
“Yep, definitely wet,” he said, pumping his fingers inside her. “Not enough
yet, but still...” She could hear the pride dripping in his voice, feel new
self assurance in his touches. “...You already want it this bad, huh...?”
“N-NO! Stop...” Her words lacked strength, not only from the hoarseness of her
voice, but from her own lack of conviction. Did she want this? All of her
seemed to scream no, but the physical response was entirely different. If her
body was reacting that way, then...what if some part of her did?
A thousand thoughts crashed against each other in her head, reverberating
through her skull. Of course you don’t want this. He’s forcing himself on you
and using you as a toy. Everything was too loud. If you don’t fight, it’ll be
over faster. She couldn't think. Thinking that is just letting him win. Just
let it all go away. Just don’t think and relax yourself for once. Everything
needs to stop for a minute...
“You know, Priestess...” he drawled, his voice barely reaching through her
despaired haze. “...I can’t help but notice that you seem to have dropped your
act.”
She was too lost to respond. All of her sparse attention was focused on his
hand, which hadn't moved from her.
“Mhm, well...I am well aware that the Priestess of Amatsu is known as a polite
and elegant lady, but you...have had quite the mouth on you, y’know?” He spoke
softly, almost intimately, as if he were comforting her. “You know you don’t
have to put up a front for me, right?”
He hummed again, bending over so that his breath was warm in her ear. “It's
just the two of us,” he said, like it was their secret. “You don’t have
anything to hide. You can act without inhibition, without worry... Just act as
your true self.” She felt him shudder slightly as he sighed. “I
want...everything...from you. No one else.”
He emphasized himself by beginning to move his hand again, crudely pushing his
fingers deeper into her. She let out a small gasp for the second time, having
been too lost in her own desperation to brace herself. She could hardly
understand the sensation, between her flagging attempts to free herself and her
utter disorientation.
He delighted at this reception, every sound she made only pushing him further
into his twisted hunger. “I can see why you do so well as an idol,” he
breathed, curling his grip on her even tighter. “That voice of yours
is...addicting.” He pressed his lips behind her ear, half panting like a
starved animal. “I can’t help but want more...
“And screams sound so much better when they’re borne of pain.”
With a primal, predatory growl, he sank his teeth into her nape, using more
than enough force to draw blood. Surprise, fear, and white hot pain seared
through her, spilling out past her lips as a loud squeak.
As she reeled from the sudden agony, he doggedly continued with his
ministrations. He was careless, creating no feeling in her besides the
horrified revulsion of being violated. But then he hit some...spot. Whatever
she felt there was new, strange, but, somehow—warm. The foreign sensation
crashed through her body, escaping through her still open mouth. 
“A-Ah...”
He froze mid-bite, eerily quiet after her own outburst. As he withdrew his
teeth from her flesh, she felt his mouth curl into a smile against her neck.
“Oh, my, you’re bleeding,” he lilted, the pride in his voice sending a chill
through her. “Here, let me get that.”
She shuddered at the following sensation of something warm and damp sliding
across her newly torn skin. He's licking me. She tried to jerk away in disgust,
only earning a few more deliberate strokes of his tongue.
“There, all better~” he said, pulling away as she felt the sting of his saliva
in her open wound. “I’m afraid I got a bit carried away. Your screams were
simply that enticing...” He leaned his head on her shoulder. “But not nearly as
exciting as that noise you made just now. How did that go again?”
He pushed his fingers in and hit that spot again, but she expected it this
time, and bit her lip. The feeling still bubbled out as a sound, but she
managed to keep it in to a muffled chirr.
“Well, that's not quite it,” he said, still leaning over so that his head was
right by hers. “I guess we’ll just have to keep trying!”
He went to stroking at her again, his actions now leaving a much stronger
impression. The warm sensation only grew every time his fingers slid inside
her, regardless of how many times she said “stop”. It was all she could do, and
now even that was failing her; her voice pitched up and down according to his
motions, like he was some kind of depraved conductor. Any plea she made to him
was at risk of turning into a whine, and she wouldn’t let him have that
triumph.
There was nothing pleasant about it, and yet something felt strangely right;
there was no possible way to rationalize it. Her mind, as well as her resolve
to fight, was eroding fast with each motion. Something deep in her was pulled
at through this revolting act, something fundamental and ancient. Her muscles
tightened in response to it, tensing to his rhythm. 
His pace quickened, the thrusts of his fingers becoming harder and less
precise. “Geez, you're making me so impatient...” he said, his voice thick with
desire. “I can tell you’re getting impatient too, though, huh?” He ran his
thumb along her thigh. “You really took quite a shine to this.” He paused, and
took a small nip at her neck. “I’m gonna show you just how wet you are, my
little Priestess.”
He pulled his hand away from her entirely, and left just a enough of a moment
for her to fearfully anticipate something, but not enough time for her to
resist. With a grunt, he lifted her most of the way off the sheets, dropping
her down again onto her back. She was forced to look back into his sickening
expression again, his macabre smile now slightly stained with blood and drool. 
“I missed that sweet little face,” he said, reaching up to cup her right cheek.
“You look so innocent...but I suppose if I'm to learn anything from you, it's
that looks can be deceiving, hm?” As he rubbed his thumb against her face, his
free hand slid down her stomach and back to her underwear, slipping past them
once again. “Better we’re like this, so I can see what adorable expressions you
have in store for me.”
He didn't push his hand in this time though, taking advantage of her skewed
attention to pry her mouth open. His thumb hooked around her lower jaw, keeping
it pulled down, while he began to probe at her tongue with his index finger. He
hummed something meaningless, oddly upbeat notes of a nonexistent tune.
“Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything here,” he muttered, his tone conspicuously
lacking the usual sadistic joy. “I just want to see...” She tried moving her
tongue away from him, but he caught it under his thumb. He felt it for a
moment, stroking the muscle gently, then moving his finger toward the base of
her tongue.
His eyes never left hers as his hand defiled her mouth. He’s forcing me to look
away. He’s getting off to being in control like this. But... She couldn't bring
herself to meet his eyes directly, fixing hers on his idle hand. It was kept in
shadow by his body, but she could still see the shape of his hand silhouetted
through the fabric of her panties. It was disgusting, grotesque, but she could
at least see what he was doing.
“...There,” he said, grinning as he withdrew his hand from her mouth.
“This...This is what I wanted.” He held up his finger, now shining from her
saliva. “I can’t get enough of you...” He rolled his index finger and thumb
together, pulling them apart to make a short, thin strand of her spit. “I
wouldn’t dream of stealing a kiss from a lady. but...just a taste.”
He shoved his drool covered finger into his mouth, making an extravagant
display of sucking it clean. He moaned softly as he removed it, his hand now
wet with his own saliva. “God, you taste so good,” he panted, globs of drool
dripping from his mouth. “You’ve got me hooked on only a trace of you. I just
can’t stop myself.”
He shifted to his right hand, which had lingered just outside her entrance
through his ostentation. He slid in the same two fingers as before, mirroring
the violation of her mouth with his other hand. She jumped at the contact, how
it felt somehow different than before. The way he was moving, where he was
touching, how he crooked his finger—it was the same, but it sent waves up her
spine. It isn't...painful. Was it more humiliating? Maybe it felt stranger,
harder, crueler?
...Better?
“Please...stop,” she said weakly, tasting him in her mouth with every word.
“Just stop...don’t do any more.”
He looked up at her, a small frown hanging on his face. His eyes were so clear,
sparkling, even. “Well, ok. No more of this.” He removed his hand with a
tentative slowness, getting in one last stroke before it was out completely.
“There.” He tilted his head, bringing his opposite hand to her chin. “Something
confuses me though...mind helping me think it through?”
His hold on her face tightened, his nails digging into her cheek as he forced
her gaze still. He held his hand, that which humiliated and molested her,
inches from her face. “Do you see that, Priestess?” The more she tried to look
away, the further his grip sank into her. “It would seem you’re still being
dishonest.” He indicated his hand, and drew his middle and index fingers apart.
Threads of some clear, viscid substance formed, tiny drops stuck along them.
The liquid coated his fingers and some of his palm; some drops slowly oozed
down the back of his hand. “That’s how bad you want me, you know.” Her heart
stopped beating. ”You’re this soaking wet, it's cute how hopeless you are...”
No.
He grinned at her, his eyes alight with sadistic joy. “That’s such beautiful
despair on your face! It’s exactly the feeling of betrayal. And by your own
body no less...That’s still a part of you, you know?” He dragged his tongue
along his hand, long and slow, deliberately savoring her indiscretion.
“Mm...This is just way too delicious...I could enjoy this all day. But I can
see, and, well, taste, that you aren’t in the mood to wait.”
Her thoughts erupted again, their turbulent howling drowning out her own weak
cries for him to stop. It’s a reflex. You can’t help it. “Stop.” You could help
it if you wanted to. You’re too weak. He was breaking her. If you can't even
resist this, you don’t deserve your position. You barely deserve to live. She
had to keep it together until this was over. Maybe you can resist and you’re
just acting like you can't. Just so you have an excuse. “Stop...” You’re no
better than a beast, losing control of your body. You’re a filthy animal.
“Please...”
He didn't even twitch in response to her pleas. He was far too busy removing
her panties, humming his same empty tune. She’d been tormented, again and
again, and she understood they were functionally useless now. But they were
also her last scrap of dignity, and some part of her must’ve been hopeful
enough to think they’d make it through. Stripping his prize down was his
ultimate display of dominance, his assertion that she had no power, no
protection, nothing left at all. He left them about her ankles, not even
bothering to discard them.
“Feeling self conscious, maybe?” He smiled like a python, barely maintaining
his larking tone through his sadistic alacrity. “I’d better even the playing
field.” His hands went to his waistband. “Don’t tell my friends that I'm not
wearing anything...besides these, if you catch my drift.” In one motion, he
took his bottoms off and exposed himself as he had her.
Her eyes shot away from him the moment he dropped his pants. It would make it
worse. Everything was only getting worse.
“Really? You’re not gonna look?” he snickered, leaning back slightly. “You know
this is your only chance to see it before...well, I would want to know exactly
what I'm dealing with if I was in your position.” Shit.
If she looked now, she was satisfying his revolting fantasy, and admitting he
was right. But if she didn't...
She steeled herself, granting a glance at his pride, but found herself
paralyzed. That would hurt. Whatever expression she was making, she knew he was
beside himself with joy; terror and apprehension swirled through her all the
way down to her stomach. They were nothing, though, compared to the staggering
awareness of her situation. She hadn't really believed it until she saw his
erection, complete with the sick smirk on his face.
She was getting raped. He was going to rape her. 
"Don't look so nervous, Priestess, you'll do just fine," he murmured, beginning
to align himself. "I said I won't hurt you...it may sting just a bit at first,
though." She felt his shaft at her entrance. "Be a good girl, okay?"
With the effortless motion of jerking his hips forward, he took everything from
her. Being penetrated hurt in every possible way, but he didn't even stop. He
forced his entire length into her, hilting her in his first push.
He shuddered, letting out a sigh as he exulted in his conquest. "God, you feel
so good. I can't last like this." He reached up to her face, stroking her cheek
far too gently. "That face you're making isn't going to help." His other hand
went to her hip as he adjusted his posture. "If you're gonna cheat like that,"
he sneered, "I'd better step up my game too."
He drew himself back and pushed into her again, this time with more direction.
It hurt. It hurt her body, her mind, her shredded dignity—it was too painful to
let anything else through. At least, it should've been.
She felt it again, that golden ripple that pried at the deepest, most primitive
recesses of her mind, the spark that threatened to tear her control away. It
was stronger, louder, wilder, twitching the feral spirit at her core. 
"Stop..." she whined, hardly being able to articulate anything further. Her
thoughts were formless and weak. She felt herself drifting away from her own
body, as if she were watching it all take place. It hurt, but it didn't hurt
enough—it should've been excruciating, but it wasn't. Why...?
"Don't keep getting in your own way," he grunted, not bothering to slow down.
"You can, haah, cut loose, remember? It's just—nnh—just me." He was panting
now, making no secret of his arousal. "I want to hear you sing, pretty bird."
On the word sing, he gave an especially hard thrust, hitting that spot from
before. The ripples grew, the spark ignited, and the twitching at her core
became a flutter that set her trembling. She lost sight of her composure for an
instant, but that was all it took.
She whimpered.
It was a primal, animalistic sound, with not even the dignity of a moan, but
the desperate quavering of a bitch in heat. It was a cry of need, of
submission, one that should have never budded within her, let alone cross her
lips.
His eyes widened at her whine, his grin quickly following suit. "See, there you
go! That wasn't so bad now, was it?" he chuckled, sliding one hand up from her
hips to trace along her stomach. "You are pretty stubborn, but I guess even you
can be convinced, hmm?" 
He let his fingers run delicately up her abdomen, touching just enough to leave
ghostly trails of sensation behind. Alone, it was nothing, but it melted into
everything else, swirling into the tide of pure chemical release. 
The pain was ebbing away almost completely, to just a slight twinge every so
often. Everything he was making her feel now was that much stronger, pulsing
through her in waves of pure warmth. It was like she could feel light itself,
or a fire had been set in her...
There was no other word for it. It felt good. 
You're such a dirty fucking slut. You really are enjoying this. You deserve
everything you're getting if you're just rolling over like this. She couldn't
stop him. You could've stopped him before, you just wanted this too badly,
didn't you? You're a disgrace. She couldn't stop it. If you're going to let him
make you his bitch like this, you may as well die. You're such a waste. She
couldn't stop.
Pitiful yelps and squeaks escaped her every time he rolled his hips into hers.
The jolts she had felt before were now real, continuous pleasure, making her
entire body tremble. That feral presence that dwelled within her core was
beginning to coil low in anticipation of something; something big.
He was afflicted as well now, panting heavily with his own pleasure. "Ngh...A-
Are you close? After all this, I couldn't bear to disappoint you, but...mmh..."
His eyes were half lidded, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. "I-
I can't..." He fitted his hands under her thighs and lifted her hips slightly,
increasing his speed even further. "I can't stop..."
She bit her lip as he continued to pound at her even faster, his new angle
making him hit that spot more often. All of the squeals she was bottling up
were boiling within her, violent energies turning to making her body thrash.
She tossed her head to the side, whining into the sheets. Her hands clenched
with nothing to dig into but themselves. Her legs braced against his back,
unconsciously pulling him into place.
It was too much. She was being pushed beyond the limits of the capability to
resist. Her blood roared in her ears, her thoughts and shame screamed in her
mind, deafening her to everything but instinct. Instinct moved her hips to his,
let her moans pierce the air, blocked out everything that wasn't the need to
procreate. Raw, physical feeling was all that mattered, and her body
automatically pursued that satisfaction without heed of anything else.
The beast in her core coiled tighter, tugging at whatever strands of composure
she had left. It's happening soon. Everything up until now had just been
another crack, a fragmentation, the result of everything pressing down on her,
but it was going to happen. She was going to break.
This was the perfect end to her. It was almost poetic, some carefully
orchestrated fate made to amuse whatever sadistic god put it in motion. She was
a failure as a witch and a reject from her own family. She tried so hard to
keep up appearances, to pretend she wasn't that miserable person, but she
failed at that in the end too, maintaining those affectations at the cost of
her true self. He had exposed her again to the weak-hearted failure at her
core, enfeebled by the stress of keeping up the act. Now even that would be
gone, her thoughts and resolve vanishing amidst the throes of physical passion.
Soon all that would remain was a pitiable husk, doomed by a fragile heart to
exist only for the most base gratification.
Her head felt was made of clouds. Real thoughts didn't exist anymore. She
jerked her hands against her bonds again, though she was far past the hope for
freedom. She needed something to brace herself on, to cling to. It was a need
she couldn't hope to understand at the present, simply something the pull in
her stomach told her. 
Her twisted consort uncannily seemed to have the same desire, and he leaned
over to her face. He gently kissed at her neck, groaning so that she could feel
the vibrations through her skin. It was so strangely intimate, further
confusing the foggy signals from her mind and body. She was at a loss of any
context to give the action, and she whimpered, "A-Alto..."
He pressed a kiss under her ear, an unusual softness sinking into his voice.
"Almost..." he breathed, nuzzling her neck for a moment. His hand automatically
went to stroke her hair, but he stopped himself, and withdrew. "I'm almost..."
Every one of her muscles was tight with apprehension. She was just on the edge;
of what, she couldn't be sure. She stood on the end of her world, the edge of
sanity, the border of instinct and reason. As soon as she fell from that
precipice, she would get her instant gratification, but she would be stuck in a
new, broken existence forever. Her mind was gone to prevent her, and the pure,
hedonistic need was now present to drive her over. She was so close. All it
would take was just—
He stopped.
He was pushed into her mid thrust, but he had stopped moving altogether, simply
staring at her lazily. "Well, that's that. I can let you go now." He scratched
his head and yawned, still not making a move to pull out of her. "This is my
favorite part of the game, though." He grinned, and she knew exactly what he
wanted from her. "I can just stop right now—or I can finish what we started.
Your choice. You have to tell me what you want, though."
Never could she have imagined that she would've asked for more in this
situation. It was an answer the mind itself couldn't begin to understand. But
she was no longer only listening to her mind. She had known her answer before
he asked. She turned her eyes away, fearful of what distorted reflection she
might see in his. Her voice was weak, trembling slightly, but that only added
to the full submission of her response.
"Please...keep going."
He wasted no time in giving her just what she'd asked for, being all too happy
to satisfy her request. His thrusts lost all rhythm, descending into nothing
more than a frenzied pounding. They were no better than animals now, and he
accepted this primal role with fervor, biting into her neck as a beast claiming
his mate. 
The pain she felt from his branding drove the final split into her, and she
fell. The pressure in her core finally burst, though not all at once as she had
expected. Rather, it started as a bud, growing and unfolding into a flower of
light. The shine spread through her body as it blossomed into sheer, radiant
pleasure, sprouting small blooms of relief that sparkled like fireworks. Her
entire being had been set afire, but rather than burning, it created a
brilliant, hot glow that made her luminesce. Each second seared through her
with enough sensation to last a thousand years, but she still had the
gluttonous desire for it to never end. 
Everything else seemed so far away, passing in a haze. She could hear squeals,
blearily guessing they were probably her own. He must've hit his climax when
she did, as he was spasming into her, his breath coming in short gasps. She was
dimly aware that his cum was oozing down her thigh and staining the sheets, but
she couldn't bring herself to care. There was nothing left to care about. 
                                    -------
As she finally faded back into focus, the first thing she was aware of was a
series of rapid kisses around her nape, interspersed with the frantic whisper
of "imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry". Fretful hands went to her bindings, fingers
scraping against them in a desperate attempt to get them off; yet the
operative couldn't even tear his attention away from her long enough to get
them undone. 
"I didn't hurt you? No, but I did, was it bad? If you're really hurt you'll
tell me right? I won't..." the Conductor continued to fret over her, his eyes
shining with guilt. She really wished she'd had the use of her hands, so she
could clap one over his mouth. 
Sakuya sighed, the entire broken world they'd created having vanished in an
instant. "Just untie me, dummy."
He straightened, gave a brisk nod, and instantly set to work undoing her bonds.
It's so annoying when he's like this. Alto's eyes periodically flicked up to
meet hers as he worked, his brow knitted with worry. ...It's annoying that I
still think it's cute.
When he finally got the knots to loosen, he hurriedly discarded them, and
gently rubbed her wrists with his thumbs. He bit his lip, now restraining her
hands just as much as the ropes had. He slid his grip up, clasping her hand in
his, silently staring into her eyes. He was asking a hundred questions all at
once without even moving a muscle, most of them being "is it okay?". She sighed
again, unable to muster even a hint of annoyance this time, and squeezed his
hands back.
He smiled wanly in response, and once again nestled into her neck. It wasn't an
action of beastly domination and sadism, but one of utmost adoration. With his
face buried into her, he caught the scent of camellia oil, a faint trace of
makeup, incense, a hint of smoke—the fragrance that was uniquely her. It was
intoxicating, an intangible part of her that he found just as bewitching as the
rest. 
She disentangled her hand from his and rested it in his hair, pulling him into
her in a modest embrace. She laid her head on top of his, but broke the calm
with a huffy sigh. "Geez...Don't think you can always get away with being that
rough." Her words were chiding, but there was not a touch of venom in her
voice. "And you'd better not get used to finishing inside like that."
Alto pulled away, giving her that kicked puppy look she was sure he'd spent
time practicing. "S—I'm so sorry, I, I just got a little carried away
andIdidntmeanto—" his mouth hung open as he desperately grasped for the right
words. "I'm—I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you..." He hung his
head, looking up at her for her approval; somehow she always felt the need to
apologize when he did that.
The Witch gently brought her hand back to his face, trying as best she could to
maintain a stern expression. "As long as you don't do it too much, I guess I
can overlook it in the future," she said, allowing just a hint of intonation on
the last word. He wouldn't get it, but she could try.
He nodded guiltily, now unable to even meet her gaze. She knew he was too dense
to catch what she meant, but she hated how his oblivion just let him feel
worse. He's such a nuisance...why do I like him again?
She rolled her eyes slightly, and slipped her hand down his neck to his chest.
"You know...next time?" Only he could get her to say things like that, and she
did without fail.
His eyes widened, and he looked back at her with a tentative smile. Alto's
smile broke out into a grin when he saw her own. He nearly tackled the
priestess back against the bed, neither able to contain their laughter through
the kiss.
"You're too adorable, you know? I love you."
End Notes
     Well, this is my first work on this site. Thanks for reading! Stella
     Glow was a really fun game, and Sakuya's ending was way too adorable
     to ignore (I maxed her first playthrough of course :P). I don't know
     if this even counts as underage (in my mind it doesn't) but you can't
     be too careful.
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