Author: Maiden of the Moon PM
Neuro knows how to manipulate Yako to get what he wants.Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor/Romance - Neuro N. & Yako K. - Words: 620 - Reviews: 25 - Favs: 93 - Follows: 9 - Published: 06-03-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6021756
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: A while ago, my very wise friend Hannah pointed out a kink that should be predominate in this fandom, but neither of us have ever seen done. I am here to rectify that… though I admit that I don't give this idea the justice it deserves. (So if anyone else were to want to write it… :D)
Dedication: For neocloud9. :3
Warnings: Inappropriate use of Neuro's ability to control Yako's hand. (And I feel like I should mention that, for all of Yako's protesting, I did not write this with the intention of it being a "non-con." In my mind, they're already in an established relationship… but, you know. It's Neuro and Yako. XD)
"—'s why you are insane!"
The lounging demon lifts his brow; the fuming teenager scowls.
Fear replaces conviction as devious amusement blossoms: as bright and sickly green as radioactive sludge.
"Why, whomever are you pointing at, Sensei?"
"…Neuro, what're you— eek!"
A faint emerald glow.
"I don't see any criminals around here…"
"N—Neuro, stop it…"
Familiar digits dip beneath the hem of cotton panties.
"…and an insignificant amoeba like yourself should certainly know better than to point at her master…"
"What're you—? I don't want my hand down th—!"
White fabric rips.
"After all, any mortal cockroach can tell you that it is quite rude to point."
Knees buckle; bony hips fall against Troy.
"Perhaps my slave needs a lesson in proper etiquette…?"
Of its own accord, her hand jerks.
"Haa— oh… N—euro, ple—nn!"
In, out, in, out.
"A servant should realize that her entire body bends to the will of her master… in all matters, emotional and physical."
She couldn't stop if she tried.
No, she cannot control her thrusting fingers…
"A servant never talks back to her master, nor refuses when she is commanded to do even the most menial of tasks."
…nor her trembling thighs…
"She does not call her master names, either."
…nor her racing heart as it pounds, pounds, pounds in her scarlet-tinted ears.
"Is this too much for your brain cell to absorb, Yako, or are you finally starting to understand?"
She tosses her head as her fragile back arcs; attentive eyes of ethereal jade sparkle sadistically from beneath the hood of heavy lashes.
"Let me hear it, Yako."
The demon lounges comfortably in his spindly chair, fingers lightly laced across his middle.
"I don't care if you want to or not."
"It's dum— nn!"
Her stocking feet clamor against the table's slippery sides; her bowed spine skids, slithers, and slides over the glossy countertop.
"Say it. That's not a request, slave."
Her insides are coiling tighter… tighter—tightertightertighter—!
"Well, Yako? We haven't all day."
The world explodes.
Total bodily collapse. Atop the dirtied desk, a disheveled Yako pants; sitting lazily behind it, a contented Neuro smirks. He rests his pointed chin upon one pleased palm and purrs:
"There, now. That wasn't so difficult, was it?"
A puppet's smile.
"Hm? Pardon me, Sensei? What was that?"
Hell-hot blood turns arctic-glacier cold.
"Does my stupid servant need to be taught another lesson?"
Troy groans under new weight.
"Neuro, no, it's still sensitiv—!"
Yako groans too, for similar reasons.
"A slave should not masturbate atop her master's furniture."
"Hey, I had nothing to do wi—!"
She is silenced by a kiss.