warnings: abuse of power, blackmail, coercion, age gap (kai is in his 30s), public sex (in a lecture hall), unprotected sex, creampie, possessive kai, caught (by mirio), biting, oral sex, jealous sex (bc of mirio), noncon filming, praise, choking, mentions of: office sex, car sex, other forms of public sex, cockwarming
synopsis: he’s an unethical man and you’re in the palm of his hand playing this twisted game
Kai Chisaki is a professor with very questionable morals and tactics, you’ve never experienced anything like it and it intrigued you even more, like a moth to a flame. The thing with this flame is that it didn’t burn you when you got close, it drew you in more and more until it could wrap its flaming arms around you and engulf you entirely.
summary:Desperate to get control over your quirk you decide to try out the new clinic in town known for its unique treatment plans.
•─────⋅Ѽ⋅─────•
“Number 34, the doctor will see you now,” the nurse yells into the waiting room. You look down at the small piece of paper to double-check the number before standing. You looked around the barren waiting room as you walked to the open door.
There were only two other people waiting in the room with you and both of them stared off into the distance, their eyes blank. You turn your gaze to the waiting nurse, she held some of the paperwork you had filled out while waiting to be called.
“Number 34?” she asked, looking down at the paperwork.
“I think that is me.”
She nods, “Follow me, we need to get a couple of assessments done before the doctor will see you.”
You walk behind her silently unsure what to say. When you had first heard about this clinic you were skeptical, after all being able to help cure out-of-control quirks seemed impossible. You had been to dozens of specialists, all of them giving up after the first visit. According to the flyer this place claimed to be able to give anyone the ability to control their quirks no matter how complicated.
To be honest, even after stepping into the office you were skeptical, they were probably going to send you away just as everyone else had.
“Stick out your arm for me,” She ordered, trying a tight rubber strip around your bicep when you complied.
“The doctor wants blood work done on every individual he treats, it is just a precaution.” She explained as one gloved finger feels the thin skin of your inner elbow. You look away as she sticks the needle in to get the blood sample.
“Do you really think he will be able to help me?” You whisper as she fills the tube with blood.
Her scowl softens, “There has yet to be an individual he has been unable to help. He is one of the dedicated people I have ever had the met, he will not give up until you are cured.”
For a split second, you allow yourself to hope, living with a quirk that causes anyone who comes into contact with your skin indescribable pain was not easy. You can not even remember what it feels like to touch someone without gloves or clothes in the way.
“That’s good,” you whisper through a tight throat, not wanting to get your hopes up. After all what treatment could this new doctor provides that the others could not?
After taking some of your vital signs the nurse leaves you in the room alone to wait for the doctor. You take the time to look at some of the signage in the room. Most were the generic doctor office messages, how to decrease your blood pressure, how to quit smoking, but one small piece of black and white paper stood out to you.
Leaning in closer you squint your eyes to read the fine print. It was a study on the worsening effects quirks had on society. You start to read about the dangers works may pose in the future when a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts.
A tall thin man walks into the room, a black mask covering most of his face. His black hair was short and well-styled. Instead of wearing a white lab coat like you had expected he had on a black dress shirt and pants. He was looking down at the paperwork you had filled out earlier, his golden eyes reading your writing intensely.
“When did your problem first appear?” He flipped to the next page.
“Uh, you mean my quirk?”
He looked up at you with sharp eyes, “Yes, when did you first notice your defect?”
“Well, when I was around 5 a kid at school was trying to play tag with me,” You look down at your hands, “When he touched the skin of my arm he collapsed to the ground screaming.” You press on hand against your eye to help ease the heaviness, “I was sent to a few specialists after that, they said my quirk was harmless, only creating the sensation of pain in those who touch me but it does not cause any real harm.”
“It says here you have been to twelve specialists trying to find a cure for this.”
“Yes, but they all keep saying there is nothing there to fix, that I have to learn how to control it.”
“And have you tried controlling it?”
You scoff, “Controlling what? It is not like I choose to hurt those who are touching me.”
He sets down the paperwork, “Well there is some good news for you, looking at some of the testing conducted by the other specialists your defect is not active all the time.”
You tilt your head, “What does that mean?”
“The parts of your brain controlling your problem only light up when you are being touched, this means your quirk can turn on and off. With enough practice, you should be able to teach yourself how to shut off its activity at will.”
Your mouth drops in amazement, “You mean I can actually turn my quirk off, I will be able to touch people?”
“I believe so, but it will take quite a bit of practice.”
Your shoulders slump, “How am I supposed to do that? Who would be willing to be put through the pain of my quirk for so long?”
“Well, you will only practice skin-to-skin contact after you can learn to shut it off. Your defect activates with or without skin-to-skin contact, the clothes or gloves protect the individual touching you from getting hurt.”
“So I can practice without hurting anyone?”
He pulls the chair over and sits, setting his arms onto his knees, “Theoretically yes, but because you have not been touched in so long it is possible your problem will adapt to be able to work through clothes.”
“How do I prevent that?”
“My suggestion is to practice here in the office where I can oversee your progress and change the treatment as we go. The first goal of the treatment is to get you used to the idea of being touched to prevent your problem from evolving.”
“Is there someone here I can do that with?”
His eyes narrowed, “I plan on conducting this treatment.”
“Y-You?”
“Is that a problem?” He asked in a flat tone.
“N-No, I was just surprised that is all. Most of the other specialists I have been to usually refer me to others if they want me on a treatment plan.”
“I prefer to be more hands-on with my treatment, It is the only way I can ensure everything is done right.”
“Oh, That makes sense. Do I just talk to the front desk about scheduling another appointment?”
He shakes his head, “That will not be necessary, I will start your first session today.”
Your mouth falls open, “T-Today!”
“Yes, your problem is intriguing, I would like to start to get a better idea of how long your treatment will last.”
“What do I need to do, is there paperwork or something I need to sign?” ‘
“No,” he reaches into the cabinet above the desk, pulling out a stiff white gown, “You only need to put this on.”
You carefully grab it from his hands making sure to not touch his gloved fingers, “Why can’t I just wear my clothes?”
His eyes narrow, “I need easy access to your skin to perform the treatment, it would be easier if you were naked but I thought you would appreciate some modesty.”
You nod your head, “I would definitely prefer the gown.”
“I will turn around to give you some privacy while you change, do try to be quick though.”
“Of course,” you hold the gown to your chest until his back is turned. You would have preferred he had left the room but did not want to seem rude. He was the first specialist who finally had a treatment plan for you! Sure he was a little… off but you would hop on one leg and rub your stomach if it mean your problem would go away.
You pull your pants down your leg but hesitate when your fingers touch the border of your underwear, “Can I keep on my underwear?”
“No, the only thing you should be wearing is the gown.”
You cringe, wishing you could have kept at least one thing to help protect your modesty but beggars could not be choosers, he was only trying to help you after all.
You quickly fold your clothes and set them on the chair next to the bed, taking the time to hide your underwear in between your pants and shirt and then plop down onto the stiff medical bed.
You take in a deep breath trying to slow your racing heart, “Alright, I am all changed.”
He wastes no time turning around his eyes trailing over your newly exposed skin. Your clothes nearly hide every inch, preventing the risk of someone accidentally bumping into you and hurting themselves. This is one of the only times you can ever remember someone being able to see you so exposed. You had to fight back the urge to hide your face, feeling too exposed already.
“Lay back and put your feet on the table, I want to perform an exam before we begin.”
You slowly lay your back against the table hoping he could not see you trembling. You know he was just doing his job but the idea someone was about to touch you was almost too much to bear.
His cold gloved fingers press against the inside of your wrists near your thumb, feeling your strong pulse for a few seconds. He listened to your lungs before moving onto your heart, so far all normal. You started to relax back into the bed as his assessment continued, it felt like any other doctor’s visit.
“Are you currently sexually active?”
You could not hide the shocked look on your face but he looked down at you with a waiting expression.“
“N-No. Kinda hard to have sex when touching your skin causes someone to faint from intense pain.”
He did not laugh at your sad attempt at humor, instead wordlessly carrying on with your assessment. “Besides your problem do you have any other current health complaints?”
You shrug, “nothing as important as my quirk.”
He nods, his hands leaving your body, “It appears your body is in a healthy enough state to withstand the treatment I have in mind. If you have any questions now would be a good time to ask, I don’t like stoping the treatment once it has begun.”
“How long will it take?”
“I expect an hour but it could be as long as three. It all depends on how your body responds to the treatment.”
“Do I need to do anything during the treatment process?”
“No, all you need to do is lie still and follow any instruction given.”
You bite your bottom lip and nod your head, “Alright, then let’s get this started,” You try to force a smile.
He walks over to the small circular chair in the room and sits, moving over until he was settled at the end of the bed. He opens up the drawer underneath the bed a pulls out a few tools and places them on the table next to him.
“Bring your body to the edge of the bed,” He ordered as he arranges his toolset meticulously.
You look up at the ceiling, pretending the idea of your lower half so close to his was not weird. Once settled closer to the end you lift your head up to look down, “Where am I supposed to put my feet?”
He pulls a long shiny metal brace out of the bed and attaches it to one side before repeating the action on the other side. “Rest them here.”
You try to slowly maneuver your feet into the stirrups, hoping you were not flashing your doctor in the process.
“Move in closer” He ordered, his tools now all in a neat row.
You scoot your butt down an inch hoping it was enough.
“More.”
Fuck, you wiggle down another inch, already beginning to feel the cold air assault your lower half.
“More.”
Your head falls back onto the bed and you finally push yourself down until you could feel the edge of the bed against your skin. Now the only thing giving you any privacy was the thin stiff gown barely covering your center.
“That will do.” He grabs the thick yellow straps off his tool table and you watch in silent horror as he straps your ankles to the stirrups.
“Is that really necessary?” You finally ask through your tight throat.
“This treatment may get intense and I do not want you to accidentally kick me in the face.”
“What if I promise not to kick you?”
His eyebrow lifts and for a second he just stares at you, his gaze taking apart every inch of your being. “No, this is the only way I can ensure mine and your safety.”
Your back falls back against the bed in defeat, “Alright, I guess that makes sense.” Though you had a feeling he did not really care if you had agreed with his plan or not.
“Now, I am going to begin the treatment. Please avoid wiggling around or yelling out. I understand being touched is something new for you but to get your problem to recede we need to get your body used to it.”
“If you think doing this will allow me to be touched I am willing to do anything.”
His eyes narrow, as if he was smiling, “Remember that.”
And with that, the bed is lifted until you could no longer see anything but the top of his head, but that also meant he could see everything.
You try to calm the immediate rush of blood to your cheeks, reminding yourself he is a doctor, he is just trying to help you get over your problem. You squeeze your eyes shut as his gloved hands run up the inner part of your thigh, his fingers gently pressing down on the tender skin to push them even further apart than you had them.
“Do you feel any different with my hand touching you?”
“Yes,” you shift your weight around, “It is definitely active”
“What does it feel like when your quirk activates?” he asked, his hand slowly moving higher up your thigh.
“It feels like tingling.”
He makes a sound in the back of his throat, his hands stopping their movement, “How long did that feeling last after you have been touched?”
You shrug your shoulders trying to ignore the feeling he was eliciting, “A few seconds but it depends where I was touched and for how long.”
“And does this, tingling, change in strength as I move my hands up?”
“Yes,” you groan as his hand moves up even higher, now resting only inches from your cock.
“Interesting, It seems I have found the best approach to culling this quirk of yours.”
You lift your head off the bed to meet his eyes, “Really, but I thought you said the touching would eventually ease my problem.”
He nodded, “With an extensive amount of time I may be able to train your brain to turn off the quirk. However, just touching you here has elicited a much stronger reaction than on your arms or abdomen. I believe that the quickest way for me to treat this problem is to utilize your sex.”
“My what?” You yell, instinctively trying to close your legs but you were stopped by the straps.
“I said,” he sighs, “I will utilize your sex to hasten the treatment.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It took almost a minute of me touching you with gloves on before your body started to show signs of your quirk activating. And even when it did activate the reaction was weak. When my hands touched your inner thigh your reaction was almost instantaneous.”
His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, “What this indicated is it will be much easier to elicit a strong reaction with my hands on your sex and therefore will be much easier for you to recognize when your disease activates so you can start to practice shutting it off.”
“There has to be another way,” you whine.
“I thought you said you would be willing to do anything to find a cure, but I can see this was a lie.” His hands leave your thighs and he begins to stand.
“Wait,” you yell without thinking, “I was serious, it’s just I have never heard of anything like this before, I mean this is crazy.”
He cocked up an eyebrow, “Do you want to be cured or not?”
“Of course I want to be cured,” you huff.
“Then lie back and allow me to do my job.”
You stare into his eyes for a minute, fighting the inner shame now welling inside your chest. On one hand, this had to be one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. All you wanted to do was stand up and walk out of the room to save some piece of your dignity. But on the other hand, was your dignity really worth living with this curse? If a little embarrassment is what it took to live a normal life you had to try.
You close your eyes and fall back onto the table, relaxing the muscles in your legs.
“I am going to start now, tell me when the tingling begins to grow stronger than before,” He ordered, his hands now trailing up your thighs once again.
You try to look around the room and read some of the signs to distract yourself but that soon proved to be impossible as one gloved palm draped itself over your mound. Instantly the tingling of your quirk activated, nearly double the strength as it had been on your thighs.
“Stronger,” you whimper, bringing your elbow up to cover your eyes.
His hand stays still allowing your body to adjust to his presence before one long finger drags itself up the length of your stiffening cock. Your breath was already trembling, your body going into overdrive as he strengthened his touch, now his entire hand wrapping around your cock.
Even with your arm covering your view you were positive he was staring at you, his intense gaze analyzing every inch.
It took every ounce of control not to just reach down and unstrap yourself from the table and run. But before you could even make an escape plan, his cool thumb brushed over the head of your cock, spreading around some of the precum that had started to gather.
“Fuck,” you yelp, your hips thrusting up.
“I take it the tingling grew stronger,” he taunts, his hand now slowly stroking your cock.
“Y-yes,” cry, your head tossing from side to side.
“On a scale of one to ten, how intense would you rate the feeling?”
“I don’t know, fuck, maybe 8,” you look up the ceiling and begin questioning all your life choices.
“Hm, let’s see if we can get that higher.” With the steady strokes of his thumb distracting you, one long finger slick with your precum slips down to your entrance, giving you no warning before it breaches your hole.
You squeeze your eyes shut, your mind nearly shutting off from the strength of your quirk making your entire lower half was now tingling. But even worse was that it started to feel good, the tingling only adding to the pleasure being created by the doctor’s sinful hands.
“I-I think that is enough for today,” you pant, lifting your upper half up to your elbows.
“It is not over until I say it is, relax and accept your treatment.” He ordered, his voice now holding a new darker tone.
You hesitate for a second, unable to stop yourself from looking at his finger buried in your ass, now pumping in and out of your tight hole. You were mesmerized by the sight, watching helplessly as he had another finger, stretching your hole open even wider.
Your head falls back, your mind barely able to comprehend the dozens of different sensations attacking your body at once. The cool air of the room, the burn of the stretch his fingers created, his hot breath against your thighs. Fuck it all added together to push your mind and body past its limits.
You try to focus on the feelings he was creating, how your mind was lighting up as your quirk activated under his touch. Slowly as you take in deep breaths you start to recognize the feeling in your mind, how to curb your quirk from lashing out. Damn him for being right. But as the tingling of your quirk started to recede another warm tensing sensation started to spread.
“I-I think you can stop now,” you say through clenched teeth, “I am starting to slow the effects down.”
One eyebrow lifts in response, “I am not done yet.” His fingers inside you twist then lift pressing up against the soft tender spot inside you in a coaxing motion.
You press your palms hard against your eyes, the pressure creating small bursts of light. You started to spiral as his thumb and fingers worked to bring you higher and higher with each small movement.
Your chest grew tighter, your heart beating against your chest even faster as you try desperately to regain some control over yourself but every time you started to level out he would add another finger to torture you, stuffing you to the brim. You could feel tears begin to gather at the corner of your eyes, leaking down the sides of your face. It was too much to handle, you had never felt something like this before, let alone having it be by someone else touch.
The thrusts of his fingers began to grow in speed, rapidly pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands leave your face as you try desperately to find something to hold onto but you only had the cold mattress beneath to grasp.
Your nails dug into the fabric as the incoherent moans you could no longer hide began to fall from your lips. There was no hope you could even maintain an ounce of dignity as he used his hand to push down on your stomach at the same time his fingers inside you pushed up, creating a pressure right against the tender spot inside you to finally send you toppling over the edge.
You try to muffle the cries but give up as the wave of pleasure overtook every cell in your body. Your back arched off the small bed, your feet pressing down against the metal stirrups holding your legs open as the doctor continued to toy with your hole. The lewd sound of his fingers pumping into you as you clench down fills the room letting anyone know what was going on.
You were too out of it to even realize his fingers had started to slow when he deemed you finally had enough of his ‘treatment’. He slowly withdrew his gloved fingers, taking the time to admire how your hole clenched down against nothing. He allowed your mind some time to recover as he put the tools covering the small table back into place and removed the gloves covered in your juices.
“I-Is the treatment done,” you ask, your voice still shaky.
His deep laugh fills the room and he takes a step closer to the bed, towing over your weak form. “Done? Oh no, I am not even close to being finished with you.”
He takes out a new tool from one of the drawers in the bed, “In fact, I think you should stay here overnight, I have a more hand-on approach I want to try.”
