Megumi's legs were spread wide, obscenely so, each thrown over the arms of the throne. He was off-balance this way and supported only by Sukuna, who Megumi was leaning back against helplessly. The display was deliberately vulgar, a demonstration of Sukuna's ultimate power and domination over Megumi and their kingdom.
Arranged as they were, it was a crude presentation: Sukuna's cock, the only unclothed part of him, buried in Megumi's ass; Megumi seated on Sukuna, stretched around him, completely naked and unable to move; both bodies framed by the regal gold of the throne.
Megumi rested his head on Sukuna's shoulder, his throat exposed as he writhed. His eyes were closed, and he seemed unaware of their presence. On the other hand, Sukuna for the most part looked entirely unaffected by the tight heat around him.
Megumi was nothing but a trophy to him, an accessory to go with his gold crown and jewels. Only his hand, tight as it squeezed Megumi's inner thigh, gave any indication of his pleasure.
"Oh my god," breathed Nobara, but it was loud enough to echo softly through the throne room.
Megumi's eyes shot open at her voice, and they widened in horror when he registered his friends' presence. He opened his mouth, but Sukuna cut him off with a single, shallow but hard thrust. A strangled gasp punched its way from Megumi, and he choked back his own words.
Sukuna squeezed Megumi's thigh harshly and then covered his mouth with his other hand, his fingers digging unkindly into Megumi's jaw and cheek. In the ensuing, shocked silence, everyone's attention was drawn to the one remaining sound: the low vibrating buzzing of the cock ring around the base of Megumi's shaft.
Megumi's cock was hard, standing tall against his stomach and framed by both the thatch of trimmed hair and his defined abs. But even the grooves of his muscles shining with sweat and his chest heaving with every half-suppressed gasp couldn't distract from it—the deep red cock ring fit snugly, just above his balls so nothing blocked it from sight.
It was pornographic and unseemly, planned and exhibited with no less intent than the rest of this day. All around them were symbols of Sukuna's victory, of the curse's triumph over the sorcerers, and Megumi's muffled but ceaseless, whining moans were the last act, the crowning scene.
Maki stepped forward, and Sukuna grinned at the way her voice wavered, out of anger or shock. "What is this?" she asked, her eyes disbelieving.
It's only been three weeks since Megumi brokered a deal with Sukuna: his servitude for the remaining jujutsu sorcerers' lives, exiled rather than executed.
Gojo was gone, and Nanami, and Todo, and Yuta, too. The younger generation were the only ones who lived, including Megumi, who had been raised to be their heir, the most powerful among them.
Sukuna's fascination with Megumi was an open secret and had been for years, but it was still an unknown quantity. Until now.
Maki had known, of course, that this dangerous possibility existed, but she never expected to see such a violation so blatantly displayed.
Sukuna grinned, all-teeth and almost feral, the gleam of it akin to the glint of the crown on his head. He answered only by rolling his hips, coaxing a wanton sound of pleasure from Megumi, whose eyes were now tightly screwed shut.
After playing with one of Megumi's nipples, pinching it perky and sore and red, Sukuna wrapped a hand loosely around Megumi's throat. He squeezed the sides of his neck without actual intent. But it still pinned Megumi down even further, held in Sukuna's arms around him, his neck and his cock.
"You told us he would be your advisor," said Maki. Her eyes were hard, but her clenched fists by her side betrayed her discomfort and upset.
Sukuna answering smile was lascivious. He moved up from Megumi's neck and combed his fingers through Megumi's sweat-damp hair, brushing it off his forehead. They could all see how red and feverish Megumi's skin was, and his overwhelmed and slack-mouthed expression added to the picture.
