The shower was still dripping when the knock came. Khan toweled off his chest, and didn't hurry. He opened the door in just his boxers, steam curling out behind him. Sakura stood there, shoulders hunched, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt, the same one from last time, though she'd washed it. The faint scent of cheap detergent clung to her. Her eyes flicked up to his bare torso, then away, fast.
Khan opened the door, then turned and walked back into the apartment. Not checking if she was following or not. Sakura hesitated on the threshold, fingers twisting in her skirt again. She stepped inside when he didn't look back.
The apartment smelled like coffee and leather. The TV was muted on some sports channel, the glow casting blue shadows over the couch where he'd fucked her mother hard last night.
Khan tossed the towel over a chair. His boxers clung low on his hips, the fabric damp where water still trailed down his thighs. He didn't cover up. Didn't pretend modesty existed here. Just grabbed a fresh shirt from the back of the couch and pulled it on, leaving it unbuttoned.
Sakura stood by the door. Her shoes were clean, new, actually. Bought with his money. The envelope still sat in her bag, half-empty after shoes. She hadn't told her mother where it came from. Hadn't told anyone.
Khan cracked open a beer. Took a long swallow. Then finally looked at her.
"You gonna stand there all night?"
She swallowed. Shook her head. Took one step forward. Then another. Her knees didn't shake this time. That was something.
"I came to say thanks," she said.
Khan snorted. "No need."
Her cheeks burned. She didn't argue.
He tilted the bottle toward the couch. "Sit."
She sat. Perched at the edge, knees together, bag in her lap. The same spot as last time. The same posture. The same fear.
"Why'd you come?" he asked.
She bit her lip. Looked down at her hands. The truth sat heavy in her throat. She didn't say it.
Khan sighed. Put the bottle down on the table. "You want more money."
It wasn't a question.
Sakura's chest tightened. She shook her head. "No. I mean, not like that."
"Like what?"
She swallowed. Looked up. Met his eyes. Held them.
"I want to earn it."
Khan's brow lifted. Just slightly.
"Earn it how?"
She didn't answer. The flush creeping down her neck said enough.
He walked to the desk and pulled an envelope, throwing to her lap, "No need." Her face flushed, hands clenching. She didn't touch the money. "That's not why I came." Khan raised an eyebrow, waiting. She swallowed. "I want... I need to do it right this time."
Her fingers curled into fists against her thighs. The last failure had haunted her, how his indifference cut deeper than any cruelty. She'd practiced with bananas. Watched videos. Even tried with a dildo until she gagged so hard her mother pounded on the bathroom door.
Khan took another sip, watching her throat bob.
The silence stretched. A car honked outside. The fridge hummed.
Finally, Khan set the bottle down with a click. "Do what you want."
She stood on shaky legs. This wasn't like last time, no fumbling, no panicked grabs at his belt. She stepped between his knees. Her hands rested on his thighs, thumbs brushing the damp fabric of his boxers where water still clung to his skin.
When she leaned in, she didn't rush. Let her breath ghost over him first. Let him feel the heat before her lips did. The first touch was soft, just the tip of her tongue tracing the outline through cotton.
Sakura hooked her thumbs in the waistband. Pulled it down just enough. Took him in her hand, slow, firm, no hesitation. Her other hand slid up his stomach, feeling the muscle jump under her palm.
Then she bent. Her mouth, wet and warm, taking him deeper than last time. Her nose pressed against skin. Her throat opened. She breathed through it.
Khan sat indifferent to all. He leaned against the couch, legs spread. Sakura knelt between them, working him with her mouth, her hands, her pride chipped away with every bob of her head. She had practiced, that much was obvious. The choking came less frequently, the gagging softer, her rhythm steadier. But Khan didn't react. Didn't groan. Didn't grab her hair and force her deeper just to watch her eyes water. He let her try. Let her fail. Let her learn.
Her hands shook when she pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. Her lips were red, swollen. Her breath came in uneven huffs. She looked up, searching his face for approval, for disgust, for anything. Khan gave her nothing. Just watched.
"You done?" he asked.
Sakura swallowed. Her throat clicked. "No."
She leaned back in, lips parting, taking him deeper this time. Her nose pressed against his skin. Her throat opened. She breathed through it. Her hands clutched at his thighs, fingers digging in.
Khan huffed through his nose. He didn't stop her. Didn't encourage her. Just let her keep going, let her chase something she wasn't sure she even wanted to catch.
Her jaw ached. Her throat burned. The taste of him sat heavy on her tongue, salt and skin and something she couldn't name. She didn't stop. Couldn't. Not anymore. Not before he finished.
She hollowed her cheeks, sucked harder, her fingers tightening where they gripped him. A noise escaped her, half whimper, half determination.
And after fifteen minutes. Nothing. She couldn't keep her jaw open anymore, her eyes were teary. She sat on the ground, started to cry. Khan watched her with same indifference.
"Done?" He asked. His voice wasn't mocking. Just bored.
Sakura wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her throat burned. Her knees ached. Her pride was shattered somewhere between the first gag and the fifteenth minute of nothingness.
"I don't get it," she whispered.
Khan didn't answer. Just leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"I practiced," she said, louder now. Her voice cracked. "I watched videos. I read articles. I--"
"Doesn't matter," Khan said.
She looked up. Her eyes were red. Her lips swollen.
"You're not into women?" she asked.
Khan snorted. "That's your takeaway?"
She flinched.
Then started to strip, "Use me, if I cannot make you cum, use me."
Khan grinned. 'Finally.'
He grabbed her by the wrist and sat her on his lap, starting to play with her covered breasts. "You are virgin, right?" He asked. She blushed, nodding. "I can tell," Khan murmured against her ear, biting the lobe. "You move like someone who's never been touched." Sakura shuddered, her fingers gripping his shoulders, whether to push him away or pull him closer wasn't clear even to her.
Khan didn't bother unbuttoning her blouse properly. He just tore it open, sending buttons skittering across the floor. Sakura gasped but didn't protest, her chest rising too fast under his palms. "You practiced sucking dick," he said, fingers pinching her nipple hard enough to make her yelp. "But you didn't practice this, did you?" She shook her head, biting her lip. "Thought so."
He flipped her onto the couch face-down, hiking her skirt up before she could react. The fabric bunched around her waist, leaving her bare ass exposed. Khan traced a finger down her spine. Sakura trembled. "You ever been spanked?" he asked. Another shake of her head. "Good." His hand came down sharp, once, twice, leaving red prints blooming on her skin. Sakura yelped, then muffled it into the cushion, her thighs squeezing together instinctively.
Khan hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down to her knees. She didn't resist, just buried her face deeper into the couch, breathing ragged. "Look at you," he said, spreading her cheeks apart with his thumbs. "Tight little virgin cunt, all pink and untouched." Sakura whimpered, her hands clawing at the fabric beneath her. "You wanna back out?" Khan asked, dragging a finger through her folds. She shook her head violently, hips jerking at the contact.
"Then say it," he demanded, pressing the tip of his finger inside just enough to tease. Sakura choked on her own breath. "Say you want it."
"I--" Her voice cracked. "I want it."
"Louder."
"I want it!" she nearly shouted, face burning.
"Say why do you want it?" He didn't push further. "Is it about money?"
She shook her head, "No. I--"
He slapped again. "Say it."
Sakura gasped, hips jerking forward on instinct, fingers twisting into the couch cushions. "I want it because--"
Another slap. Harder this time.
"Because I--" She choked on the words.
Khan gripped her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her spine to arch. "Say it."
Sakura's breath hitched. Her thighs trembled. "Because I can't stop thinking about you!" The words burst out, raw and desperate.
Silence.
Then Khan laughed. "Why? You are not in love. I can see that."
She panted, "I thought you were gay. Otherwise... how could I not-- how can I not make you cum?" Her nails dug into the couch cushions. The words spilled out before she could swallow them back. "I am beautiful." She said it like she wasn't sure. Like she needed him to confirm it.
Khan let go of her hair. She slumped forward, catching herself on her hands before her face hit the cushion. Her blouse gaped open, the torn fabric sliding off one shoulder. The air conditioning prickled her skin. Goosebumps raced down her arms.
"You're not bad," Khan said.
"Then why won't you--"
Khan grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You think this is about getting off? About your pretty little mouth?" His thumb dragged over her bottom lip, smearing spit. "You could suck me dry and I still wouldn't give a shit."
Her breath hitched.
He leaned closer. "You wanna know what turns me on?"
She nodded. Eager.
"I'll tell you if you can make me cum." He whispered. "Can you do it?" He asked, "Can you give yourself completely to me?"
Sakura hesitated. She wasn't sure what he meant. She'd already let him touch her wherever he wanted. She'd sucked him off twice now. What else was there?
Khan leaned back against the couch, watching her think. The torn blouse clung to her shoulders, half-off, her nipples stiff from the cold air and his pinching. Her skirt was shoved up around her waist, her panties somewhere on the floor. She was naked in every way that mattered, and still, he acted like she was holding back.
"I--" She started, then stopped. Her throat was raw from gagging. Her knees hurt from kneeling. Her ass stung from his slaps. "What do you want me to do?"
He touched her folds, "I'll use you anyway I want, and see if you can make me cum." His fingers touched her hymen, pushing but not breaking. That was for his cock. His other hand grabbed her breast, squeezing. She gasped, fingers digging into the couch. He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her whimper.
He flipped her onto her back. Her torn blouse fell open completely, her skirt shoved up around her waist. Her legs spread automatically, not because she wanted to, but because he'd already trained her body to obey.
Khan grabbed her thighs, spreading them wider. "Hold them open."
She hesitated.
"Do it or leave."
Her hands trembled as they grabbed behind her knees, pulling her legs apart. The cold air hit her exposed flesh. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Look at me."
She opened them.
"Tell me what you want," he said.
Her mouth opened. Closed.
His cock against her inner thigh.
"I want--" She swallowed. "I want you to fuck me."
He leaned over her, bracing one hand by her head. His cock trailed up her thigh, over her hip, across her stomach.
"Please," she whispered.
The cock tapped her clit.
"Please fuck me!"
"Good girl."
He grabbed her hips and run his cock over her folds. He wasn't sadist. He wasn't lying to Nemuri when he said he didn't like S&M. He liked dominating. He liked when women submitted to him completely, but it was mental, not physical pain. He didn't like hurting women for sake of hurting them. He liked breaking them, molding them. Teaching them their place.
He pushed inside her. Slow. Watching her face. Watching her fingers dig into the couch. Watching her breath hitch.
She was tight. Too tight. She'd never taken anything inside her before. He could feel it in the way her body resisted him, in the way she squeezed her eyes shut, in the way her thighs trembled even as she forced them to stay spread.
He didn't push all the way. Teasing her hymen. She wasn't relaxed yet. Too tense and scared. She'd heard stories, whispered warnings about the pain, but none of them mentioned how exposed she'd feel with her legs spread and her body stretched around him. Every inch of her pulsed with the awareness of being filled, being claimed. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the couch cushions, fingers twisting into the fabric.
Khan watched her face like he was reading a book. Every twitch of her eyelids, every hitch in her breath, every tiny whimper she tried to swallow down, he saw. "Hurts?" he asked.
Sakura shook her head fast. Too fast. Her jaw clenched tight, but she forced her legs wider anyway. Trying to prove she could take it. Trying to prove she wasn't some fragile thing. Trying to prove... what? That she deserved the money? That she was worth keeping around? Her throat burned with the effort of not crying out when he shifted his hips, grinding deeper.
He leaned down, breath hot against her ear. "Tell me to stop." It wasn't a command or a dare. Just an option laid out like a trap disguised as mercy.
She shook her head again. Hair stuck to her damp forehead. Her lips parted around a shaky hiss. "Don't stop," she whispered. And then, quieter, "Please."
Khan laughed and finally thrust the rest of the way in. Sakura's back arched off the couch. A strangled noise tore from her throat. Her nails dug into the cushions hard enough to leave marks. Tears welled up but didn't fall. She blinked them back, swallowed hard, and forced herself to relax around him. Every muscle in her body screamed.
"Good girl," Khan murmured, dragging his thumb over her lower lip. "Now breathe."
She did. Ragged at first, then slower. Deeper. Her body adjusted by fractions. The pain dulled to an ache. The ache faded into something else, something hotter, more confusing. She couldn't name it.
He set a rhythm, slow, deep, relentless, and watched her unravel beneath him. Every thrust dragged another sound from her lips. Every grind of his hips made her toes curl. Her thighs trembled. Her stomach tightened. Her breath came in ragged little gasps. She wasn't faking now. Couldn't if she tried.
"You gonna cum?" Khan asked, voice rough.
Sakura's eyes flew open. Wide. Shocked. "I-I don't know," she admitted, voice cracking. She hadn't even considered it. Hadn't thought it was possible like this.
Khan smirked. "Guess we'll find out." His next thrust hit deeper. Harder. Her back arched off the couch again, but this time, the noise she made was pure want. "Yeah," he muttered, gripping her hips tighter. "There it is."
She didn't know what "it" was. Didn't care. Her body moved on its own, rocking into his thrusts, chasing whatever he'd just awakened. Her hands left the couch cushions and found his arms instead, clinging, desperate, nails digging into skin. She didn't apologize. Didn't even notice until he laughed again.
"Fuck," Khan breathed, speeding up. "You really are a needy slut, aren't you?"
Sakura didn't answer. Couldn't. Her vision blurred at the edges. Her thighs shook. Her stomach coiled tight, too tight, and then...
She came with a broken cry, back bowing off the couch, body clamping down around him. Khan cursed and followed her over the edge, hips stuttering, grip bruising.
Sakura's limbs felt like jelly. Her head spun. Her chest rose and fell in uneven little hitches. She blinked up at Khan, dazed, mouth slack, no words left. No thoughts either.
Khan wiped his thumb over her lower lip again. Smirking. "Guess you figured it out."
She didn't know what he meant. Didn't ask. Just let her eyes flutter shut, exhausted, overwhelmed, and, against all odds, satisfied.
**-**
This novel is completed. I'm currently editing the chapters and uploading them to Patreon. If you'd like to read the full novel and support my work, please feel free to check it out. Available up to Chapter 50 so far.
patreon.com/EternallyPoor