By Any Means Necessary

In the next morning, Pein woke up in his own bed, dressed in a pair of silken pajama bottoms that were a little too short and a little too loose on him – apparently the Master’s. He was covered with a blanket, carefully tucked in – almost as carefully as his mother had used to do. He frowned at the sudden memory of that life – such had not resurfaced in years. He had preferred to force himself to forget – what it was like to be loved and cherished, to be cared for, to be respected, to be regarded as a person and not an object. Remembering all that made the abuse he went through hurt all the more than it already did. When he did not remember, he could convince himself that he was worthy of nothing better, that he deserved what people did to him because it was all that he was good for – a toy, a piece of warm meat with a hole in it where others could find their pleasure, a vessel to be filled with pain until it overflowed and rendered him useless.



He had accepted that years ago, and it had made his existence a little easier, if not less painful. So why remember his mother now? He didn’t want to. Nor did he want to remember the name she used to call him. Nagato was dead. Only Pein existed. After all, it was the name his first Master had given him, as a mocking reminder of all he was about to endure. And yet… being with his current Master, the way both he and Kisame-san treated him, it began to make him feel like he used to, when he was a person. It both elated and terrified him.



The door opened and Kisame entered, holding a tray.



“You overslept. I brought you what is left of the breakfast.” He said simply and put the tray onto the desk. Pein flushed with embarrassment – the idea of someone bringing him food like that was so foreign that it was almost funny.



“Th-thank you, Kisame-san.” He stuttered and got out of bed, then walked up to the desk and saw the contents of the tray – toast, jam, a piece of butter and a cup of lukewarm tea. His mouth watered.



“You’re welcome.” He said and watched as Pein took a piece of bread, dipped it in the jam and put it in his mouth, all the while groaning in delight.



“You like fig jam, I see.”



Pein nodded, his mouth full.



Kisame eyed the books on the desk and fingered one of them.



“Huckleberry Finn?” he asked and Pein flushed, then nodded, mouth still full.



“Did you read it?”



Finally, he swallowed and answered.



“Yes, I did, Kisame-san.”



“What do you think?” the large man was looking at him curiously.



“It was strange.” Pein offered hesitantly.



“Strange? Strange how?”



“Jim was…” he paused then, searching for the right word “He was a person. A good person.”



Kisame nodded.



“So?”



“But he was a slave?”



The large man smiled bitterly.



“Aren’t slaves persons as well?”



“We’re possessions, Kisame-san.” Pein pointed out, perfectly calm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.



“That we are.” Kisame agreed and sat down on the bed, watching Pein eat.



“And yet, we feel. We feel hurt and joy and misery – we are not empty, Pein.”



The red-head stopped chewing for a moment, then looked at Kisame, expression strangely drawn and serious.



“It’s easier being empty.”



“Perhaps it is.” Kisame agreed. “Doesn’t mean it’s right. I was almost empty when Itachi-san found me. When he saved me.” He looked at Pein “Are you empty, Pein? Or is it that you just want to be?”



The red-head looked down at the plate.



“I don’t know. I only know that I want to obey Itachi-sama.”



Kisame could sympathise with that – the young man’s sheer presence was intoxicating.



“We all want that, it seems. Even when he doesn’t want us to.”



Pein cocked his head to one side at the cryptic response. Kisame got up from the bed and looked down on him.



“I came to tell you that tonight you and Itachi-san will be going to one of those clubs we talked about. Come back to his rooms around 5 pm to prepare.”





To say that he felt apprehensive as he walked towards Itachi’s quarters that evening was an understatement. He was downright terrified. Pein had been to quite a few of those places, and despite his desperate desire to help his Master in his task at all costs, he couldn’t help but be scared by what lied ahead. Still, in the past several weeks he had grown to trust him, and that was something he generally did not do. So he took a deep, shuddery breath and knocked on the door timidly.



“Come.” Kisame’s voice barked from the inside and Pein slid in the room noiselessly and then bowed deeply. When he dared to look up, he saw that Itachi was already dressed for the occasion – loose black silk pants and a black silk shirt, his long hair pulled back in an impeccably tight ponytail. Kisame was sitting on the bed, frowning at everything and everyone. Pein bowed again.



“Master?”



Itachi sighed, then handed Pein a small package:



“Just put these on and let’s go.”



The drive towards the club was silent, all of three of them sunk deep in their thoughts. Pein squirmed a little on the limo floor, his naked body wrapped in a loose grey trench-coat that made him look decent to an outsider, even if his feet were bare. Itachi was sitting on the backseat, looking out of the dark-tinted windows towards the bright city lights outside, his chin in his hand, dark eyes cold and distant. Kisame was driving, staring at the road ahead of them as if it held the answers to all the mysteries of the universe.



When the car stopped, the large man got out and opened the back door. Itachi exited the car and Pein followed, his trench left in Kisame’s arms. Other than that, he was perfectly naked underneath, save for his piercings which only enhanced his bared state and the leather collar snug around his throat. Itachi reached and attached the chain leash to it, its other end held firmly in his smooth hand. He did not look at Pein as he did so, not even for a second. Then he turned on his heel and marched inside the establishment, the red-head following after him.



They entered a darkened corridor, richly furnished, the walls and floor covered with high-end vermillion silk velvet, illuminated by sparsely-situated golden lights, walls lined with large full-length silver mirrors. As they walked, Pein got a glimpse of himself in one of them – slightly smaller than the dark-haired Master leading him on a leash, pale-skinned, haunted blue eyes and a smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks. His body was covered in numerous vicious scars, mementoes of a lifetime of abuse. His piercings were what stood out the most – while the ones he wore previously were of unknown cheap white metal, these were made of black stainless steel, smooth and shiny and standing out on his pale skin – three at the bridge of his nose, several ones in his ears, two at the corners of his lips. When they reached the next mirror Pein’s gaze traveled further down – two dark loops through his nipples, another through his navel and one through the tip of his circumcised organ and he knew there was one more through his perineum. All of his body piercings were connected by a thin, delicate dark chain, starting at the perineum loop, going between his balls and connected to the one at the tip of his penis, then traveling further up to his navel where it split into two chains connected his nipples. At the moment it was loose enough for him to feel comfortable, but he knew that if he got aroused, it’d be stretched tight, pulling cruelly at all the places that were connected through it.



Itachi tugged at the leash and Pein almost stumbled, then quickly followed after him, quickening his steps to catch up to him.



Inside, the club itself was not what Pein had seen before – all others had been packed with people, a little on the dirty or shabby side, loud music blaring from the loudspeakers.



Apparently, this place was a lot more expensive than the ones his previous masters had led him to – it looked more like an extremely expensive restaurant for royalty or celebrities. The tables were spaced wide apart, the only illumination coming from the lit decorative electric light in their center.



Itachi walked up confidently to one of the vacant tables and sat gracefully on the chair, Pein moving to kneel submissively at his feet, his Master’s hand immediately sliding in his bright ginger hair and beginning to pet it almost instinctively and the slave leaned hungrily into the touch.



“Well, well, well. What have we here? Uchiha, when you said you’d come and bring a pet of your own, I didn’t expect you to follow through with it, but you always manage to surprise me.” Pein’s eyes opened sharply at the new, deep male voice sounding from above his head and he stared up for a moment, seeing the figure of a large, heavily-scarred man looming over them. His eyes traveled down and met a pair of violet ones, set on a pale face surrounded by platinum-blonde hair. The other slave, just as naked and collared and leashed as Pein, smirked insolently back at him.



The large man eyed Pein.



“Though, with the means at your disposal, surely you could find something… fresher?”



Itachi shrugged.



“We all have our tastes, Kakuzu. I like my pets well-trained, for example.”



The newcomer rolled his eyes with annoyance.



“And well-scarred, apparently.”



“Coming from you, that’s almost a compliment.” Itachi retorted and grinned. The scarred man, Kakuzu, laughed then and moved to sit on the empty chair next to Itachi, signaling the waiter.



“Bring us a bottle of vodka.” The waiter, a blonde, pale-eyed, scantily dressed young man nodded and quickly ran off.



The other slave kneeled next to Pein and at his Master’s feet and looked critically at the red-head. The Pein did not like the look in those eyes – he had seen it one too many times, in those who broke, who began to crave the abuse visited upon them. He knew that he himself wore it sometimes, quite often, in fact, but the blonde’s expression was almost manic, much worse than anything he had seen before. He looked down at his folded knees next to Itachi’s well-polished shoe. Better to end up as fertilizer than one day wear that expression on his face.



When the vodka arrived, Kakuzu poured them two shots and turned to his younger companion.



“He’ll be here tonight. Not with your boy, I’m afraid, if my intel is correct.”



“I pay you enough for it to be correct!” Itachi hissed. He took the glass in his hand but did not touch the alcohol.



“Drink, you’ll stand out if you don’t.” the large man chided. Itachi pressed his lips together with distaste but tossed the vodka in his throat, then set the cup back down on the table, making an effort not to cough at the sudden burn in his throat.



Kakuzu looked down at their feet at the red-head kneeling there.



“He is not his type.” he accused.



Itachi glared back.



“He will be.”



“You’re up to something, Uchiha?” the man sounded amused and poured himself another shot. Itachi only smiled cryptically, then his eyes zeroed on the entrance.



Pein could not see Itachi’s expression, but he could feel the way his entire body tensed next to him, each muscle tightening and ready for an assault.



Kakuzu covered Itachi’s fisted hand clutching at Pein’s leash with his own.



“Temper and patience, Uchiha.”



The young man visibly relaxed, though Pein could feel his still rapid and shallow breathing. He followed Itachi’s gaze:



There was a man there, tall and pale, long, silken raven hair falling down to his waist, followed by a naked young man, collared and leashed like everyone else, with long silver hair and sad, downcast green eyes.



“He is not with Sasuke.” Itachi hissed furiously.



“I told you he wouldn’t be.” Kakuzu reminded. “I hope you have a plan.”



Itachi turned to look at him, black eyes so cold and vicious that even the older man flinched.



“Leave us. Kisame is outside, he will finish the transaction.”



The older man shrugged and stood up, the blonde slave followed, sending one last crazed smile down at Pein.



Itachi kept watching the man at the other end of the hall, his smooth hand petting the red-head’s hair with an almost painful intensity.



“Pet.” He said, the gentleness in his voice contrasting the tension in his body.



Pein look up adoringly.



“Master?”



“Forgive me.” Itachi whispered.



“I would do anything for you, Master.”



Itachi closed his eyes and nodded, then harshly grabbed a handful of ginger locks and pulled Pein up by the hair, then roughly threw him over the table, the bottle and the glasses falling to the floor and shattering with a loud clatter.



People looked up at the noise and all eyes focused on them. Itachi ran a greedy hand down Pein’s scarred and trembling back, tracing the marks with his fingers. The red-head’s breath hitched at the harsh touch and he turned his face to the side, going limp. Itachi’s hand reached his bottom and squeezed it, then slapped it viciously and Pein whimpered. Then a finger jammed roughly in his opening and he was grateful to Kisame for preparing him so extensively before they departed for the club.



Itachi said nothing, just worked his finger in his already lubed opening for a while before adding a second. Pein sighed and moaned softly, well-aware that all eyes on the establishment were on them, on him, but he did not care anymore. The invasion was rough, but he was used to much, much worse, and the fact that Itachi was the one doing it made the whole experience even more wanted, despite the humiliating scrutiny of their audience.



He hissed when Itachi slid in a third finger, all three grazing against his prostate, body reacting immediately, his organ, unpleasantly trapped between the table and his own body standing to attention and pulling the chain connected to his piercings.



The brunette took his time with the third finger, preparing him so he could receive a fourth –

stretching him wide open before he pinky slid in as well.



His body was angled in a way that people in the club could see exactly what Itachi was doing, the way his glistening fingers slid in and out of his reddened and abused entrance, the way Pein himself rocked into the invasion eagerly, desperately, wordlessly begging for more.



Itachi took a very long time before he finally gave it to him, his thumb joining the rest of his fingers and then he was helplessly stretched around his Master’s fist. It hurt and it burned and because the brunette was doing it, it was the most delicious sensation in the world. Pein whimpered plaintively and raised his hips even higher, impaling himself further, thighs trembling from the exertion. He was so out of it that he didn’t even register the raspy, grating voice.



“Congratulations on managing to do that without making him bleed.”



Still pumping his hand in and out of Pein, Itachi looked up and forced himself to look calm and collected as he stared at Orochimaru.



“Young and fresh is good” he murmured dreamily and then looked down at Pein, his other hand going to his hair again, petting possessively. “But experience is even better.” He growled and pulled his fist out, the red-head wailing at the sudden loss that left him stretched open and painfully empty. Still holding his hair, Itachi flipped him over, allowing Orochimaru to see his pierced and chained front, then pushed his knees up to his chest and slammed into him, hips coming to rest at his upturned bottom. Pein wailed and whimpered, then made an effort to tighten his stretched entrance around his Master’s length, to pleasure him as best as he could. Itachi began a fast, punishing rhythm, rocking in and out of him with thoughtless abandon, all the while Orochimaru stood there and watched the two of them with bright, greedy eyes.



“Delicious.” He murmured.



Itachi growled and finished, then pulled out and stared at the slave’s used body, flushed and sweaty, his hardness an angry red colour, thighs still held up and trebling, come leaking out of his stretched entrance.



“You can come now.” He hissed and Pein did, helplessly so, body seizing up and arching back, his seed shooting in the air to land on his face and chest.



“Delicious indeed.” The man murmured again, then stretched his hand to Itachi.



“I am sure this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, ah…?”



Itachi took the hand.



“Uchiha Itachi.”



“Uchiha Itachi-san.”