MONSTER.

Title : MONSTER.

Rating: HARD M

Fandom: Naruto 

Themes: Alternate Universe, hurt/comfort, redemption, 37 (sasunaru)



Summary: My name is Uchiha Sasuke, and I am a sadist.  Nothing brings pleasure to me like coldly watching young men cry and struggle under my cruel brutality. Only seeing healthy, cheerful boys spill tears of anguish and humiliation can ever satisfy my boundless appetite.  I am, in short, a Monster.

Warning:  This fic contains writing of an intensely graphic nature that may depict scenes including but not limited to the following:



-Physical Torture

-Psychological Torture

-Sexual abuse

-Humiliation

-Prostitution



Much love and gratitude to the author of the original series on which this fic is based, "Sadist", by the talented author Mugi.  Her works can be found here!: http://shirayuki.saiin.net/~bastard/

 

Monster

 

I.

 

“I want to go home.”

 

The simple words, murmured one by one from B's hoarse throat, were barely a whisper. He lay there, limp and unmoving like a corpse.

 

His lips and abdomen were wet with semen, cheeks swollen red from the beating I had given them earlier. A bit of blood oozed from his split lip.

 

I slowly let the cigarette smoke spill from my lips as I looked on at his sweat-sodden, beautiful limbs.

 

“Why?”

 

I asked him with the sort of affectionate tone of voice one might use when looking with pity upon a rain-soaked kitten. I couldn't suppress a laugh.

 

Injured and battered to perversion – Oh how adorable the young man before me was. The impulse to gently stretch out a hand and stroke his hair, as well as the equally powerful desire to grind his face under my heel were at war in my head, but I denied myself the satisfaction of both.

 

B's silence stretched on.

 

After staring up at me with a blank expression in his eyes, B finally lowered his gaze and shifted his meticulously bound limbs marginally.

 

Blood trickled from wrists that I had carefully bound up with hemp rope, a sight that was at once breathtakingly beautiful and hopelessly painful to look at.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

B answered the query, expelled in a breath of cigarette smoke, with a single glance from his glittering, gem-like irises.

 

When I smiled softly in response to his sharpened glare, full of loathing, B swerved his head to the side, abruptly averting his eyes.

 

The other man's brazen expression was so beautiful it shook me to my core.

 

In that instant something raced up my spine like a flash of electricity.

 

Slowly and deliberately, I stood from my chair and paced over toward him, purposefully planting each step hard enough that the sound of my approach echoed throughout the concrete chamber.

 

Taking notice of my movements right away, B widened his eyes into a look as though he were surprised, before finally closing them in resignation.

 

Could this mean, perhaps, that he had finally grown accustomed to my abuse?

 

Allowing my features to brighten with a superior smile, I knelt at his side.

 

“Does it hurt, B?”

 

As I gently whispered to him, stroking his arm softly, there came a small wet sound as he spat at me venomously.

 

His well aimed shot caught me directly on my cheek, before sliding languidly to the floor.

 

B's hatred filled eyes narrowed as his cracked lips, still leaking blood, drew up into a satisfied smile.

 

And again something flitted up my spine.

 

I brought the hand grasping the cigarette back to my mouth, before filling my lungs to the brim with smoke.

 

For someone like me who ordinarily wasn't much of a smoker, the action was the littlest bit painful, but I imagined that to a lifelong smoker it must be like inhaling the life-giving breath of God.

 

In reality, I smoked only when I wanted to use it as a tool for abuse.

 

Just as he desired, I blew the smoke out harshly against his soft cheeks, while pressing the dwarfened stub of the cigarette into the back of his wrist.

 

B's eyes opened wide in agony and shock.

 

Before his cries reached my ears, I continually pushed the cigarette stub into the area around where the ropes chaffed and held his hands bound tight.

 

It was almost as though I could hear the soft sound of skin sizzling in between his screams.

 

Faint streams of smoke rose up from B's wrists, as bright red burn marks were left in their wake.

 

Every bit of it stimulated me.

 

This time a sensation incomparable to those before ran through me. Not just once, but over and over again, as though to outdo those that had come before. My entire body shook in ecstasy – sweet Nirvana.

 

The moment that tears broke free from his tightly shut eyes, that sensation swelled up inside me like a bomb that had been detonated inside my chest.

 

Without a doubt, I knew that I was now shivering shamelessly in delicious physical pleasure.

 

 

My name is Uchiha Sasuke, and I am a sadist.

 

Nothing brings pleasure to me like coldly watching young men cry and struggle under my cruel brutality. Only seeing healthy, cheerful boys spill tears of anguish and humiliation can ever satisfy my boundless appetite.

 

I am, in short, a Monster.

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Author's note:

It's finally heeeeere!!! XDDDD I love this story like whoa. Yes, it starts off rough and difficult to stomach at first (or if you're like me, absolutely fascinating), but it will run the gamut from sick, to heart wrenching, to down right adorable and will take you on an psychological rollercoaster ride if you let it. 



Get ready to be emotionally fucked. (And like it too!) ψ(｀∇´)ψKyaha~Kyaha~