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gamerwoman3d · 7 months

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Beta Tester

An MK1 Scorpion Smut imagine fanfiction

Note: if you wanna cut the story plot and get straight to the filth, scroll until you see the animated gif. Other info/notes in the tags.

Imagine you and a friend spot a man with a scorpion tattoo at a party once. Later on in a living room somewhere you find yourselves both talking about how hot he is, and gossiping about him and his overly generous, sweet wife, Harumi. Some months later you see your friend at a party flirting with some other unremarkable new guy when you notice your friend has some weird burn marks on their arm.

[Explicit/spicy below the cut 🔞]

As you ask about it, your friend just covers the burn and avoids the topic, preferring to talk about the flirty new guy. You assume the burn mark was from a hot stove, only to realize that it's actually a rope burn from some kink play gone wrong.

You need details, but worry that if you say anything right now you might scare away the uninspiring new guy. After all, the new guy just met your friend tonight and could not possibly have been responsible for the burn. The two leave the party together before you can ask.

Harumi introduced herself to you not long after they left. She has a gift for your absent friend. You say you'll see your friend tomorrow and can deliver the gift. Harumi leaves it with you in a small gift bag. The following day, your friend can't stop talking all about the new guy and the night they shared.

Your friend seems awkward opening the gift from Harumi only to find bandages and silver sulfadine cream - a type of wound care for open burn blisters. When you ask what's up, your friend confesses that not only have they been regularly fulfilling the hot husband's kink fantasies, but that Harumi herself sanctioned your friend's involvement with her man.

You shamelessly ask your friend to tell you everything.

As it turns out, Harumi wants nothing more than to be his little rope bunny, but they have very specific rules in their culture and in their prenuptial agreement; He cannot leave marks on her, ever.

Privately, the pair practices and workshops their rougher ideas on willing third parties. Your friend is one of those parties, and has the burns and bruises to show for it.

"This one is from a knot in the rope. I landed on the knot wrong when we took me down. We'd been playing with suspension. These little ones are from a melted candle. That one is where the rope was too loose and slipped and caused a burn. I didn't even notice it was burning at the time..."

"How did you not notice?!" you ask.

"He was eating me at that moment. He wanted me to squirm. He got what he wanted."

"Um... does everyone get what they want in that arrangement?"

"Well, Harumi wants him violently, so in her case no, she does not get what she's wanting. But god it's so good when he gets going. I hope she gets what she wants from him someday. She seems to enjoy living vicariously through me. She'll request that he take me rough and work off his energy on me before going back to her to do gentler stuff afterwards. I've heard her whimpering; by the time he's done with me, she's ready to burst."

"I gotta ask... has your new guy asked about the marks?"

"We haven't talked about it yet, but I suspect if I'm going to keep him, I have to call the whole thing off with Harumi and her husband."

"Just to be clear, we're talking about that guy with the scorpion tattoo, right?"

"Yeah that's her husband."

"That guy is hot as fire, what's his name? You kept calling him Harumi's husband?" you ask.

"At the risk of sounding even sluttier than I already sound, admittedly I actually don't know his real name. And I feel kinda weird just calling him Scorpion but... even Harumi calls him that when I'm around."

"Wow."

"Yeah yeah I know. I think he's some kind of street performer or magician, he does neat tricks with fire sometimes. It makes sense that he has a stage name if he's doing magic or whatever. But like... I'm not calling him that unless I have to see him. And the next time I see them is... oh shit. I'm supposed to go over to their place tonight..."

"You going?"

"I should call it off. I don't want to potentially ruin things with my new man. But oh god, if he doesn't work out then I don't want to lose my place with them. Let's face it, I'm not the only 'beta tester' that they employ; someone will take my place if I drop out, and I won't forgive myself if I get dumped and then also can't get my spot back."

"I wish I could take your spot for you, cuz like... damn. I'll call him Scorpion if it means he breaks me off."

"Actually... maybe you could fill in for me tonight?"

Imagine showing up to their door unnanounced, a white knuckle grip on the gift bag Harumi had left you as you practice the lie over and over in your head. He opens the door.

Confusion knits his brow as he waits for you to explain your presence. You ask for Harumi. He calls for her. She joins him in the doorway, and you reach out, offering the bag to her. You tell her that your friend is sick today and didn't want visitors; you thought the responsible thing would be to return the gift to Harumi. She makes a disappointed groan and says she really hated to hear that they're ill, adding how much she 'needed' to see them tonight.

Imagine taking a deep breath, and offering to help, just like you rehearsed with your friend. "I'm happy to help you with whatever work they were going to do for you tonight," you say from a script your friend made you rehearse.

The pair exchange glances and then look back to you.

"What kind of work do you do," he asks.

His eyes dart over your body in one quick, cautious overlook. He stops as soon as he starts; he sensed that his look caused you some tension.

"It's um, secure work, with a lot of lifting, uhm, yeah, I can at least help out with the lifting, if you wanna show me the ropes?"

You tell yourself that the word 'um' was not a part of your script. But upon hearing the keyords, secure, lifting, ropes, the couple's demeanor relaxes. He arches a questioning eyebrow at his wife. Harumi has a pleasant glitter in her eyes that speaks to her approval. They both nod slightly in unison and invite you inside. He's suppressing a smile as he looks you over again, with intent this time. He knows that you know what you're getting into, and is no longer as concerned about causing you tension.

"Make yourself at home. Bathrooms are on the left, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. We do the work in the weight room, which is down that hall. Do you need anything to get started?" Harumi asks.

"Just... one thing. Between us?"

Harumi looks to her husband. He nods and walks away, in the direction of the weight room.

"I just wanted to check if um, if you're really okay with this stuff? I don't wanna do anything with him without your approval," you say as another line you rehearsed.

"Of course! I'm happy to have someone helping take care of Scorpion's needs!"

Imagine thinking wow, your friend wasn't wrong; that name does sound weird.

You can't help but ask if that's his real name.

"It is, to you," he interrupts.

You look up to see him standing at the end of the hall. He makes a 'come here' motion with his finger. Harumi places her hand on your shoulder and gives you a gentle, affirming push his direction.

"You'd better go," she muses, "lest he come get you and drag you over there."

You know now for certain that she's agreed to loan her man out to you, and you also see that he's eager.

Inside the weight room, the floor is covered with foam mats and one wall is nothing but shelves of equipment for rope dart sports. A collection of shéng biāo are coiled and organized from beginner to advanced. The bright red, soft and silky ropes stand out as odd. Imagine following him inside this room only to find lit candles and incense at a small dragon-shaped altar in the room. A stand near the altar holds an assortment of more sensual things, including red silks, lubricants, condoms, dragon-etched ornamental glass pillar candles, and an unopened pack of that silver sulfadine next to a very visible first aid kit. He picks over the red ropes, spinning one in his hand to test for it's weight. Harumi enters with a woven basket full of red fabric, smelling of lavender and pumpkin spice.

"Use these," she says, "I tried a new fabric softener on them. They're fresh from the dryer."

He lets one slip between his fingers.

"Ooh," he exclaims, "they're still warm. And they're very soft. Thank you."

Harumi closes the door as she leaves, winking at you to bid you to have fun. The door latch clicks. Scorpion's eyebrow is raised when he turns back to stare at you.

"So you," he starts, "Why did you come tonight? What are you looking forward to the most, what excites you?"

You realize you stammered without answering as your brain practically buffered. He had a smile in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out. The smile spread to his lips as he unwound his top from around his torso.

"It's cute that you're stammering. I'm going to miss it. Most people stop stammering after you break through the touch barrier. We haven't touched yet, have we? There's still an awkwardness that I don't think would be there had we broken the touch barrier."

Now stripped to the waist, he picked up and fondled a length of the soft red rope. He sees the way you look at his body and invites you to him with a gesture.

"Would you like to touch?" he asks.

You inch forward and reach out towards his chest. You couldn't be more tense if you were on the brink of toppling a Jenga tower. You take the rope, and let your knuckles brush his skin as you rub your thumb over the silky smooth warm fiber of the rope.

"I meant would you like to touch me," he said.

He smirks, but remains still, his eyes locked on yours as you force yourself to concentrate on the rope. You let the rope fall from your hand and touch his chest with your fingertips.

The pad of his thumb gently grazes the length of your finger. He presses into your touch, gently runs one finger through the hair over your eye and past your ear. His voice is warm when he says "I like that."

His fingers trace down your neck and he says "It feels good. I want to show you how it feels. May I feel?"

When you nod, he reaches under your clothes to fondle the skin near your nipple. He finds your nipple with his fingertips and traces spirals over it with a feather light touch.

"Let's try that question again. What are you looking forward to, right now, in this very moment?" he asks.

Your mind immediately jumps to sex. You have a vision of you both naked, you helpless in his arms while impaled mercilessly on his cock. Your eyes dart to his pants involuntarily. You shut them, but he already saw where they strayed. He gestured towards his erection.

"Would you like to see it?" he offered.

An easy enough question to answer with a nod.

"Do you want me to take it out, or would you prefer to do it?"

"I'll do it," you say.

Imagine unwrapping his package like a present. You can feel his gift through the wrapping. You might try to guess things about this gift before you reveal it. When you do expose it, it feels warm to the touch, feverish and firm. It has heft, but stands on its own despite its weight.

"What do you want to do with it?" He asks.

"Oh, uh, lots of things... what do you want to do with it?"

He holds up the length of red rope suggestively.

"I wanted to tie you up and sling you from the ceiling, so that when I fucked you with it you swing back and forth on it in the air," he said.

"Oh," you said.

Fire, Oh my fucking god, fire said your body.

Then he leaned in close to your ear.

"What can I do for you to get you to do that for me?" he murmured.

"Nothi- I mean, it sounds fun... just get me off?" you asked.

"With pleasure," he said.

He tugged at the fabric of your clothes and asked if you prefer to undress yourself or if you want him to do it. Either way the clothes come off in a blur and he presses the warm soft rope against your skin, rapidly cocooning your form in a macrame sling custom to your body.

Imagine the softest, silkiest ropes whipping around some parts of your body several times as he worked you into a makeshift rope harness. The ropes are warm against the skin; straight from the dryer, they retain heat for a while. His hands brush against you as he works the ropes over your entire body. When he reaches between your legs to wind the ropes through, he grazes the skin of your inner thigh with the back of his knuckles. He pets parts of you as he works, enjoying the feel of your body, knowing you enjoy the feel of his warm hands on your skin. Soon you look like you've been woven into a fancy net. He slings the ropes expertly through the hooks of a pulley above. One last knot and he's hoisting you into the air and asking you if you're comfortable.

"Does it dig into the skin at any point," he asks.

Imagine the rope swing feeling surprisingly comfortable. Imagine it like a recliner you can lean back in, but which forces your legs up and apart. You can barely move, but find you can rock yourself just slightly.

Imagine him running his fingertips over your skin, stopping to pay attention to the areas that make you shudder, all while commanding you to tell him how you get yourself off when you're alone. He asks what you fantasize about happening when you're alone with yourself.

If he finds out that you're rough with yourself when you're alone, imagine the glint in his eye when he shows you a rubber version of the metal dart at the end of a red silky rope. These rubber darts are made for practice.

He says It stings when it hits. It is designed for training rope dart techniques, designed to minimize injury and damage. He says a good design will still inflict enough pain that one is forced to learn from their mistakes, lest they repeat them with a metal dart and potentially do real harm. If he thinks you're interested in the stinging sensation, he offers to test it on you.

He has a habit of running his a thumb along his "beta testers" genitals, asking them to reveal their most sensitive spot. He says he likes to play a game where he throws the rope dart around their bodies - the dart wraps their thigh or their belly several times, squeezing it tight, and continues to wrap rapidly until the rubber tip slaps the targeted spot.

The cringe from that sting is the best way he knows for checking whether the rope sling is tied well enough. Regardless of whether or not the sting was too much, he'll croon apologies and go down on that spot, kissing and sucking and sometimes gagging on it until he's verbally forgiven for stinging his helpless lovers.

"Can I get the oral sex without the sting?" You might ask.

He won't answer in words, just in an arched eyebrow and a smirk right before he goes down without further announcement.

He needs to see you cringe and squirm in the net he wove you into, and he won't stop pleasuring you until your body has locked up in involuntary spasms at least once.

Another of his favorite tests is the act of bouncing you on his hand while you're suspended. He uses the same circular motion as when he's spinning his ropes, only his middle and ring fingers are up, inside you, working your inner spot. The motion causes the whole sling to rock and drives his fingers deeper inside with gravity. He really only uses it as a preview to the motion you'll feel when he fucks you senseless in your sex swing.

The pillar candles aren't just pretty. They're full of wax. It might be massage wax or candle wax, but either way he shows you a magic trick...

First, the condom. It's on him. It glistens. He made certain you're dripping wet before he put it on. But now, a magic trick. He holds the long glass tube of the pillar candle, close to the base. He looks into your eyes and tells you he's going to melt all of the wax in the candle and pour it out onto you. You see the whitish wax in the jar turn clear at the places where his fingertips touch. The dragons etched into the glass begin to burn as if coated with lighter fluid. The wax turns clear underneath the dragon pattern. Soon the entire candle is no longer a white solid, but a clear, hot liquid, sloshing around in the glass as he gently shakes it in suggestive circles. You feel the circles mirrored between your legs as he grinds his cock against you.

He knows you want it inside. He wants you to plead and negotiate with him for it. You can have all his cock if you forgive him for stinging you... if you can accept that he likes to sting you, and understand that he gets off on it when he makes you feel stung. He'll ask if he can burn and sting you with the hot wax, and if you'll forgive him for causing you pain, ask if he can fuck the hell out of you, hard.

This is what you came for after all.

The liquid is hot as a motherfucker as he drizzles it over your body, leaving patterns of clear liquid that rapidly cool to white across the red ropes and reddening skin beneath the scalding wax. Thrashing against the pain, the ropes hold you in place. It is the wincing on your face that provides him his cue to give you what you came for; you've done your worst to his ropes and haven't freed yourself yet. Confident that his ropework is sturdy enough to continue, sturdy enough to let loose and fuck your brains out without worry, he pushes you back and lets his cock fall between your legs. He wastes no more time, sinking his cock as deep into you as he can get on the first thrust, trusting that gravity will sling you back on it harder as he rocks you back and forth on his cock suspended in midair.

He dumps the last of the wax and slings the empty pillar jar to the side. Clear wax dribbles down your hips and thighs and congeals there in white rivulets. He gets some on him as well, but it's strange - on him, the mess stays clear. If he presses his hot skin against you and comes back with white fragments of cooled wax, they fade from solid white to liquid clear against his body. The wax is all over his belly below the naval, and each rough slap of his body against yours just splatters more wax against the deep cut V of his hips. It looks less like wax, and more like someone with clear cum has ejaculated against him multiple times. Therefore it looks like a prophecy that you're currently in the throws of fulfilling.

Whether he takes you rough and flicks you with the sting of this practice dart, or takes you firm but gentle and massages your sore spot from the outside while railing against the best spot from within, he won't stop until you're howling in pleasure and bursting against him.

He'll lower your limp, spent body to the sweaty gymnastic mat below, untie you as you catch your breath, and inspect every inch of your body for marks as he rub a coolant over your burns. One free hand goes to the back of your neck to support you as he lowers you. Imagine the fingertips, still hot as a coffee mug from his grip on the burning glass candle, digging into the muscles at the scruff of your neck. Once he has tended any minor injuries with cooling gel or other first aid, he'll wrap you in something soft and warm straight from the dryer and carry you to the bathroom where Harumi already ran a perfect luxurious bath for you, flower petals and all. Once the pair establishes that you escaped the stinging play without a scratch this time, they leave you to your bath.

That is to say Harumi is pulling at him playfully and as long as you're satisfied, he lets her drag him to bed. All throughout your bath you hear their sighs and moans. You realize that if you like, you can play along in their audio drama; or, you can stay silent, soak it all up and relax.

[The end for now]

Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌

Need more Scorpion smut? Check this one out!

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