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Thread of Fate *1x1 with Jikkah*

Later on in the evening, her door was pushed open and Kotaro moved toward her swiftly; grabbing her firmly and forcing her onto her stomach as he started pulling her sash to her yukata free. "Please forgive this abhorrent behavior." Matsunaga said as he stepped in, "It's only to harm Katakura."
 
Jin struggled hard against Kotaro, trying to fight him for her sash, even slamming her elbow hard into his jaw. “Don’t touch me!” She snarled, face flushed red.
 
Kotaro recovered quickly and smacked her head against the floor as he sat on her and removed her yukata, working on her fundoshi next. Matsunaga moved and lifted her chin, pouring a small amount of liquid down her throat and covering her mouth to keep her from spitting it out.
 
Jin’s nose dripped blood, but it wasn’t broken, dazed from having her head slammed into the hardwood floor. When Matsunaga poured liquid into her mouth, she involuntarily swallowed it, coughing and groaning softly. Her ears burned red as she felt her fundoshi be pulled from her body, exposing her completely to the two men. “You’re a vile man..” She ground out through clenched teeth, letting her head rest on the floor.
 
"Sticks and stones, my dear." He replied as he took a large length of rope from Kotaro and began to bind her, just as Masamune had done in her torture but unfortunately not a shrimp tie. That would have been too kind, really.
 
Jin couldn’t do much other than to allow herself to be restrained with the rope, the same feeling of intense relaxation slowly washing over her, and soon she grew limp under Kotaro. She didn’t just feel relaxed however, a mild high she recognized as an opium high leaving her looking a bit spaced out; once again completely incapacitated.
 
Matsunaga finished tying her with her arms at her sides and her legs open to reach her thighs. Kotaro left silently and Matsunaga ran his hands over Jin's body slowly as he did before.
 
Jin felt her face heat up again as he started to touch her, rolled on her back with her legs spread wide. She couldn’t squirm even if she wanted to, the same muscle relaxant working it’s way through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at Matsunaga.
 
Jin felt shame burn in her chest, opening her eyes to look at Matsunaga’s fingers; how could she be finding this enjoyable? The entire situation was humiliating- degrading. “N-No..”
 
The more time passed, the more the drug wore off and she was able to squirm, soft gasps and ragged breathing the only noise she would make, refusing to make any other noises for him.
 
He could feel her thighs trembling, and her juices trickled down her damp folds, face flush a deep red. She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard, trying to hide her uneven breathing.
 
Jin could feel her release close, just as Matsunaga had said, trying hard not to whimper in pleasure. She would never beg him, never- if he thought she would, he was a fool.
 
Jin lay on her side, thighs trembling as her womanhood throbbed for release. She panted and pressed her forehead into the floor, fists clenched, refusing to touch herself to finish herself off.
 
The days crawled on and this seemed to happen every other week; he would come in and drug her before tying her up and touching her, never going any farther than that.
 
Matsunaga never brought her to climax, stopping just before she could finish, leaving her alone before return hours later to do the same thing over and over. Each time, she refused to make noises for him, refused to finish herself off like she knew he wanted.
 
When he was civil and had meals with her, he would tell her how he continued to send letters to Kojurou, tormenting him that he would never find her. It seemed like it would be a truth.
 
Jin hardly spoke to Matsunaga, and when she did she only made snide remarks or excused herself. Sometimes she would eat and other times she refused, forcing Matsunaga to force feed her like he had before.
He started to make more use of the ropes and less of the drugs, only giving her a mild muscle relaxant and a small amount of opium when she struggled especially hard. Still she refused to make noises for him, but as one month became two, then three, and then four, he could see her resolve slowly crumbling.
The more opium he fed her, the more she was likely to let herself be heard, gasping at his touches, and even letting out a soft whimper every now and again.
 
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