Chapter Text
It was a rainy day today. The pitter patter against the roof was constant, rhythmic. Almost soothing in the way he could watch the water wash down the window, obscuring the outside view into a blur.
Karaku had come to appreciate the quiet moments in daily life. Something he never really expected from himself. Had you told him years ago that he'd now prefer to be alone, to be untouched and unbothered... he'd have laughed in your face.
But that was before. Before things changed and demons went from the apex predators to something less than human. He both loathes it, and feels resigned to it.
'Pleasure' is almost a forgotten memory now. Karaku used to feel it all the time. When he'd play with his food. Taunt and mock them, watch the terror in their eyes or the defiance and determination on their face. He'd enjoyed it when he'd rip their entrails out, tear off limbs, bite into a jugular and feel the blood oozing. Dribbling down his chin as he feasted upon their still warm flesh.
He'd enjoyed the bloodbath. The power that came with it, the position and title of being an upper rank. How other, lesser demons, had to show respect when they were around.
And of course, he'd enjoyed the sex. Whenever he could, and felt like it. The feeling of a warm body against his, tight around him. The smell of arousal, especially his own, was intoxicating each time.
Now that same warmth of a body against him feels sickening. It feels wrong. The heat is no longer pleasant and erotic. It's stifling. It envelopes him like a burning fire that stabs at his skin, takes his lungs oxygen away and makes his brain fuzzy with pain.
Maybe it's because he no longer has a choice. He no longer has control. No more power. The ability to say no has been stripped from him just like his freedom has.
Karaku doesn't know how or when it happened that humans managed to find a way to subdue demons without killing them. But it was the worst thing that could've happened, in his opinion. Because now they were less than even dogs to them.
"Hey!" His owners voice cuts through his thoughts, making him slightly wince by instinct. He hadn't heard the door open... always so unaware these days.
The sound of his owners voice was always harsh and irate. As if dealing with his 'pet' was a hassle despite the profit.
Karaku shifts, his emerald eyes turning to the floor and sitting up obediently. Head bowed a bit. He knew he had to be good. The alternative only lead to more pain, he knew that.
"Yes, Master?" Karaku answered. Loud enough to be heard, not loud enough to show attitude. Docile.
The owner stares down at him, silent for a bit. His arms crossed as he narrows his eyes down at the demon before him.
"First client is delayed for about," He checks his watch, eyes getting a slight glint in them as he checks. "40 minutes... huh."
Karaku said nothing. But his stomach churned with that same awful, sinking feeling. Like a venomous snake coiling around inside his abdomen. He already knows.
The owner was quick to grab his hair, hand going between his horns in a vice grip. Pulling his head up to look into the demons eyes. A big smarmy smile on his owners face.
"Gotta make sure the product is up to date, right?" The question was degrading and mocking, of course.
Product.
Karaku felt sick. He always did, now. But he can't say anything. It wouldn't matter if he did. He'd still have to do it, and then he'd just get an extra punishment later for daring to speak against a humans wishes.
So that's what he did. He said nothing.
He said nothing as his owner unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. That disgusting, ugly and vile cock that Karaku has come to hate more and more each time he sees it.
He says nothing when his head is forced closer. Knees scraping against the cold hard floor with the rough handling.
And now he couldn't say anything at all, as his owners nauseating, already half hard cock was shoved into his mouth. Making Karaku stifle a gag. Not because he couldn't handle it, his gag reflex wasn't weak.
No.
Just because he was that disgusted. And yet... he had to ignore that. As he does his best to suck him off to the best of his abilities. His owner using the grip on his hair to move his head in a thrusting motion against it to create more friction. Like a need to control every move.
Karaku tries to think of something else. This was just how it was now. He shouldn't let it get to him. He tried to remember the good times, the times before.
But it was hard to. When his jaw was stuffed, and the sound of this humans grunts is the only noise filling the room besides the constant drizzle of rain. Like his mind didn't want to think about the only good things he clung to.
Like his mind didn't want to taint it with this.
Luckily, his owner was always quick when he used his mouth. Like the pathetc man he is, he can barely last 2 minutes. Karaku wasn't sure if he was more thankful he won't need that thing in his mouth for longer, or if he's more clinging to anything he can to look down at his captor in silence.
"Now be a good pet and swallow." The demand came in a ragged but sharp tone. Karaku knew better then to spit, yet he hated to swallow it too. He put it off if he could, hoping it wouldn't be noticed so he could spit afterwards.
But of course he always notices.
Karaku swallows the salty cum like it's glass shards and sandpaper. Earning a bigger grin from the man before him, clearly enjoying his discomfort.
He gets a few headpats, like he's a dog that did a trick correctly.
"Oh yeah, you still got it. Now don't fucking disappoint, or I'm gonna stuff wisteria down your throat and beat you with your own severed arm."
Karaku just nods. He knows that's what actually would happen, because his owner never makes empty threats. Knowing it's safe to do whatever he wanted to him without fear of his pet dying.
What was once one of his greatest strengths, was now his curse. The main body was alive, somewhere, only God knows where that old geezer is at. And so, Karaku is alive too. And he would continue to be, until the day Hantengu croaks.
"I'll be good..."
"You better."
The rest of the day was a blur of pain and discomfort. Just like every other day. The degrading comments, rough handling, abuse. Both holes used in every way, a hazy recollection of a female client riding him while he laid there like a fish. Never gentle. Never with care. Not unless they were delusional enough to think they were somehow good people.
He was just the product they paid for to them, after all. Not a sentient being. Less than even an animal. At least when animals are abused and hurt, the majority of humans will care and condem it.
But not with demons. Never with demons.
Karaku knows he's at the last client now, the sky has turned dark and gloomy. The sound of the man groaning and moaning close to his ear felt so disgusting to him. The client having Karaku in an intimate mating press, hand in his. It almost felt worse then when they just fuck him rough.
It felt so wrong. Violating. Like he's supposed to feel something positive as this revolting human thrusts into him like they're lovers. Like this man hasn't paid to get an hour with him against his own wishes. Like he had asked even once if this is okay for Karaku. It made his stomach turn.
And yet it's his own noises that draw the most nausea from Karaku. His whimpers, small hitched breaths. He hated it so much. Because he didn't feel good, he felt no pleasure. It hurt more than anything.
Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.
And yet this traitorous body makes noise each time his abused insides are hit, struggling to regenerate from lack of proper flesh.
Karaku groans in pain, in disgust, as the client finished inside him. He wasn't the first, not even the first today. And he wouldn't be the last either. A lot of these people loved to leave their DNA in him, like a mark.
The feel of the client pulling out and getting off felt like he could finally breathe better. And yet the sticky, thick feel of warm liquid drips out of him. Making him suppress a shudder. Trying to stay still.
The client says something. Probably about how pretty he is, but only for a demon of course. Since demons aren't worth actual compliments. Karaku knows. This one is a regular. He's heard it all before. And he's just tuning all of it out now.
Once again, he's left alone. He's given a slab of raw meat as his meal by his owner, like everyday. He's exhausted. He didn't even want to eat. But he had to, or he'd get punished.
The product had to stay handsome after all. Clients wouldn't like a bony sex toy, now would they? Of course not.
So he obeys. Like he's come to always do. Chewing. Swallowing. Always has to, good pets swallow.
And then, he lays down and tries to enjoy the hours of solitude and down time, wishing it would be longer.
Spending it alone, wishing the other three clones were never separated from him. Missing them. And hoping that wherever they are, they have it better than he does.