D/s Naruto

Chapter 32 (Saturday 16 June 2007, night)

Kankurou got in the Hummer and pulled out of Uchiha’s. For a while, his handcuffed passenger said nothing, which didn’t bother him. Shino was a quiet one, a little like his brother Gaara. He was used to dealing with them. And that stuff about still waters running deep—oh, yea, that was true. The quietest ones are the wildest ones, Kankurou had always found. And this one—oh fuck, he was one wild ass repressed ball of sex just waiting to explode. And he’s gonna do all over me, thought Kankurou with a deep satisfaction.

At their second red light, Shino said aggressively, “I’m not a uke.”

“Oh?” asked Kankurou, mildly, playing along. This could be good—Shino was having doubts, was going to struggle a little, which would only get him more emotional. Yea, I wanna see him get really emotional.

“I’m a dog trainer,” Shino insisted.

“Where’s your dog?” asked Kankurou a little annoyed. Oh, fuck, so it was true Shino was still hung up on his dead slave.

“He’s dead,” said Shino, his voice now softer and slower.

“For how long?” asked Kankurou feeling particularly heartless since he didn’t want to get involved with someone hung up on a dead man. And, dammit, he wanted to get involved with Shino, with every perfectly muscled and tattooed inch of Shino.

“Four years and two months,” said Shino.

“Ok, by that logic, I’m a linebacker,” said Kankurou, not really keeping the disgust out of his voice.

“What’s a linebacker?” said Shino curiously.

“Jesus God, you are American aren’t you? Or did you move here for graduate school or something?”

“I was born in Hawaii,” said Shino stiffly.

“Yea, Rainbow Warriors, Hula Bowl? Linebacker? Superbowl?” asked Kankurou.

“You played college football?” asked Shino, sounding shocked. “You were a linebacker?”

“Yea,” Kankurou said bitterly. “Well, I blew my knee out in my second season, and that was it.” God, he didn’t have to look so god damn shocked, thought Kankurou as they drove along in silence. I’m not covered in muscles like he is, but I’m big and strong.

“Aren’t football players all homophobes? You didn’t have any trouble because you were gay, did you?” asked Shino.

Oh, thought, Kankurou, maybe there’s hope. He’s worried I was hurt. “I’m bi, Shino, just like Sasori. How do you think he had a daughter? I did, I mean, I dated women in college.” Well, but really he did just do them—women were just too different, too difficult to understand. He liked their bodies fine, liked those bodies a lot, but god, the way their minds worked—it made Gaara seem normal.

“You’ve fucked women?” said Shino sounding doubtful and slightly horrified.

Kankurou laughed. So his Ph.D. was interested in who he fucked, and so damn gay the idea of fucking women was freaking him out. Adorable. “Oh, god, I like you, Doc! So, anyway, back to you the dogtrainer. There was a cute little uke begging to be your pup in the bar. Why didn’t you say yes?”

Shino sighed. After a while he said, “I don’t want another dog. I’m not a trainer anymore. But I’m not an uke.”

Ah! Progress—he was over the dead lover, and it had killed that fetish in him. Good, cause Kankurou wasn’t anybody’s bitch. Not that he didn’t like a good fucking, but not when he was in a damn dog costume.

“I’m a dom,” said Shino as they stopped at another red light.

“Oh?” Kankurou looked over at Shino in his cuffs. Shino’s nipples were hard, and the air in the Hummer wasn’t very cool. He stared down at Shino’s crotch trying to tell if he was erect. For a dom, he was taking the cuffs really well. And shit there had been subs there in the bar offering themselves to him. Shino was one of those idiot professors too smart for their own fucking good. If he wanted to dom, he’d already be doing it up in a room at Uchiha’s. He was looking for something else. And he was going to get it.

“Well, every dom does sub on occasion,” said Shino.

“Is this an occasion?” ask Kankurou in his “magic” voice, the one that always seemed to get him what he wanted.

“I guess so, but I’m still not an uke. I don’t do that,” said Shino.

“Never?”

“Never,” said Shino, but he sounded a little unsure.

“As ass virgin? I seriously doubt it,” said Kankurou—but his cock was now twitching and straining at his coveralls. Oh, it liked the idea of a virgin ass. And hell, it was probably so long for Shino, he would be as tight as a virgin. Once more in his seductive voice, “You’ve never put a vibrator up that ass of yours?”

“Not a vibrator,” said Shino admitted.

“Ah, so you did put something up there, didn’t you, sexy?” Oh, he had him now. The Doc was looking at him dazed, speechless. Kankurou could read desire in his posture, his face, the way he was breathing.

“I’m going to kiss you long and hard when I get you in my house. Just like I did outside Uchiha’s. I’m going put my tongue in you just like that. You liked that, doc. Remember? Remember how good that felt? Remember how hard you were when I ground my body against yours? Remember what my hands felt like on your bare arms, on your naked back, on your tight ass in those tight pants. Remember how my hands ran over your tattoos as I thrust my tongue in and out of your hot, wet mouth? That’s how I’m going to kiss you. Then I’m going to strip you and see just how many tattoos you have. Because I want to trace each one with my hands, those hands that were on your body just a while ago. I have big hands, strong hands, football player hands. Those hands are going to peel off the rest of your clothes and touch you. Then I think I’ll see if the rest of you tastes as good as your mouth. I think I’ll let my tongue explore your tattooes, each one of them. And if you’re ticklish or squirm too much, maybe I’ll have to chain you down. Then you won’t have a choice. You’ll be a poor little victim, poor professor, trapped by your bad student. You gave me an F doc, so I’m going to have to convince you to change your grade. You know how athletes are. We can’t play if we don’t have the grades, and we’ll do anything, anything to play. You’ll be chained up, helpless under my tongue, under my touch. I’ll slip a cockring on you, just to keep things interesting. Then I’ll suck on your ears, your fingers, your toes, your nipples, you balls, and your cock. What do you think about that, Doc?”

Kankurou glanced over. Shino didn’t say anything, but his mouth was opening and closing and his head moving up and down a little as he drew in shallow breaths. His chest muscles were moving in a way that any Chippendale stripper would have envied. Fuck! Kankurou turned to focus on the road. If he didn’t get home soon, he’d have to pull over to the side of the road and molest Shino.

“Go ahead and be quiet now, Doc, rest your throat. Cause you’re going to moan, you’re going to squeal, you’re going to pant. You’ll be so damn horny, so desperate to cum, you’re going beg me, beg me to let you cum. And then I think I’ll fuck you, and if you’re a good fuck, maybe, just maybe I’ll take off the cockring and let you cum. How do you like my plans for the evening, doc?”

“Umm,” was all Shino said, turning his head to stare out the window.

“Or I could drive you home.”

Now, the big gamble! Shino didn’t say anything. Bagged! You want it, you want it bad, thought Kankurou triumphantly. You had your chance to go home, to get away, and you did nothing. I’m going to show you no mercy, Doc, none at all. But let me see if I can get your wild man to come out, that crazy one, the one that got all those tatts.

“Since you claim you’re a virgin, you can pick the position. Lots of first timers prefer to slide down on a cock, nice and slow. A position on top lets you dictate the pace, lets you move so you can slam your prostate down on my cockhead and make your world explode.”

Silence.

“Well, others say it’s just too embarrassing to have to move. And they are too nervous to be steady enough to be on the top. They get all dizzy and excited. Lying on their back, their legs up in the air is easier because they can just take it and not do any of the work. They know that I can set a pace that will drive them wild, and this way they can easily stroke themselves as they watch my cock slide in and out of them. You can lay there, your own hand playing with yourself, watching yourself get fucked, feeling my cock penetrating you, pushing into you, prodding your prostate.”

Silence.

“The real shy ones like being face down. They’re too embarrassed to look at their lover, to have their lover see how much they like a cock in their ass. They rub their erections into the bed, they bite the pillow, and just let themselves be worked good and hard. Or maybe they like that position because they’re scared they won’t like it, and they are too kind-hearted to show that to their lover? Or maybe, maybe they are just natural submissives, the ones that want to be shown their place. Maybe that’s how you want it—face down, pounded into a mattress, ridden hard, just a piece of ass, a fuckhole, to be taken and used by a Master?”

A sniff, but Shino’s head turned back to look at Kankurou, and his tongue flicked out to lick his upper lip before disappearing again.

“So you want to be face down? Oh, yea, you’re a former dog trainer. So you did it doggie style, and that’s what you’re comfortable with. Maybe that’s what you fantasize about when you stick your fingers in your ass? That’s what you put up there, wasn’t it? Those long fingers of yours? Did you find your prostate, did you feel what it’s like when all those nerves go crazy deep inside you?”

Shino’s head turned away again, and he looked out the window.

“A quiet one, eh?” teased Kankurou, confident he could get Shino to be very, very noise in just a few hours. “So, I guess you’re going to make me work to get you to make any noise. Or are you just being snobby because I don’t have a fancy degree?”

“No Master’s degree?” asked Shino, coldly.

Kankurou laughed, “Actually I do, how did you know that? Or was it a guess because I’m just so intelligent?”

“Sasori brags.”

“Really?” Well, that was surprising. Sasori bragged about him? Yea, but fuck his uncle, this was about the two people in this car now. “Fascinating. But then again, not as fascinating as you.”

Shino snorted.

“You don’t think your fascinating?” Kankurou, surprised once more. Then he realized what might be going on in Shino’s mind. “Or is it that you think I just mean your body, your tattoos?”

“It is just the tattoos. Go ahead and lick them all. Fine, fuck me. Then call me a taxi.” Shino sighed, shook his head, saying, “This is such a waste of time.”

Kankurou laughed, trying not to sound as satisfied as he was now that Shino was now admitting he wanted to be fucked. Well, almost admitting. This was so much fun! “Oh, and you haven’t been wasting a lot of time, Doc? You need to put in more quality time drinking? Got a little etymology paper you need to write? Some bugs you need to dissect in your lab?”

“Stop being so fucking smug!” snarled Shino.

Yea! Here comes the wild man! “Stop acting like a straight guy that’s afraid to let someone touch his ass! Remember how much your dog liked it. Do you think he was idiot? Do you think every gay man that lets himself be fucked is a fool? Do you think it’s dumb to let yourself feel pleasure?”

“A lot of gay men have issues with being the one fucked!” snapped Shino.

“I don’t see a lot of gay men in this Hummer,” said Kankurou airily.

“Can’t get a date?” needled Shino.

Oh, feisty! Yummy! “I don’t need one. I got me the sexiest Ph.D. in town right here, half naked, half drunk, and totally hot. And even better, there were subs and doms sniffing him out, buying him drinks, hitting on him like crazy. But I bagged him.” Kankurou glanced over. The flattery was working. Shino’s mouth was twitching as if he was fighting a smile.

Kankurou pulled into his driveway, parked, and grinned at Shino. “We’re home!” he said.

Shino froze, then freaked, unlocking the door and jumping down and running—towards the backyard, not down the driveway.

Kankurou grinned and got out of the Hummer slowly and stretched. The driveway was lit up and no doubt one reason why the darkness of the side and backyards seemed preferable. But the walls around Kankurou’s place were eight feet at their lowest point, not likely something a slightly drunk handcuffed man, no matter how muscled, could handle. And Kankurou knew every inch of his yard and started round the side of the house.

He almost laughed himself silly—the gate to the backyard was locked, and Shino was trapped in the small side yard. But as he came around Shino suddenly committed to going over the iron gate, grasping the bars with his cuffed hands, swinging up his legs, wiggling up his arms, and then popping over the gate. God that was fucking hot, the way he moved and his back flexed. And his flexibility—wow!

Kankurou followed Shino up and over the fence—the key would take too long. It was only about five feet anyway, and he didn’t have cuffs on. But he was aware while Shino had looked graceful, almost like some alien who could crawl up walls, he looked like exactly like what he was--a big guy that just muscled his way over the bars without any style or finesse.

The side gate wasn’t always locked—there wasn’t much worth stealing back here that wasn’t chained down, and the neighborhood was a good one, ironically protected best by the poor who worked here as gardeners and maids. Kankurou headed over to the side of the house to the lighting panel. He flipped on all the lights, and then with a grin opened the sprinkler panel and flipped all them on too. He could tell Shino had made it safely past the “junky section” with the trash cans, power-washer, carts with hoses, lawn mower, the trailer with his atv, the old canoe, the big extension ladder, and of course the big heating/cooling units and the pool pumps. He cut through and pushed past the thick Baja Fairydusters, in the desert part of his backyard.

The landscape designer had said that his yard was half “Native California drought-tolerant habitat and half a lush tropical oasis." Kankurou just called it half desert, half green. The flat area of golden sand was where he and Gaara used to practice Karate together before he’d gotten banned. He’d always teased Gaara about the special white sand in his backyard, insisting his sand made for better footing. But it had been a long time since they’d sparred on either patch of sand. He currently had a badminton net up, which Shino seemed to have run in as it was all askew. He studied the yard. He wasn’t in the desert area—the succulents and cacti offered no concealment and the smoke bushes were thorny hells. The natural boulders and fountain that spilled down the back hill into the spa and pool likewise didn’t offer any concealment. That meant he was on the “green” side with the big hibiscus bushes and giant bird of paradise plants to lurk behind, not to mention the built in barbeque.

He was behind the firecracker bush and once flushed out, Kankurou could have easily snatched him, but it was too damn much fun chasing him. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, is hardwired into humans, right into the DNA. It doesn’t even have to be on foot, the most primal, intense form of chase. Highly trained, decorated cops in high-speed car chases have lost it and savagely beaten their collars, hyped up on the chase’s adrenaline rush—the chemical onslaught in their cells overriding their training, their duty, and their sense. But for dom to chase a sub, that was an adrenaline-fueled aphrodisiac like no other—one destined to end in violence or sex, or most likely, both that would give dom and sub exactly what they were looking for—a scene that if it wasn’t consensual would be a crime, a scene more fit for animal than human: atavistic, primal rutting.

Kankurou chased Shino around his citrus trees, leaping over gardenias and lounge chairs, both men getting drenched by the sprinkers. Shino tipped over the sun umbrella and splashed through the spa, heading back to the gate, the driveway, escape. With a roar, Kankurou accelerated and tackled him on the sand. He may have mostly blocked as a football player, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t tackle. But Shino was slippery, his bare skin slick, and he wiggled and twisted and almost skittered free. Kankurou’s grip on his pants just tore them, revealing Shino’s lack of underwear. The sound of the tearing fabric, the sight of that naked ass wiggling in front of him, drove Kankurou crazy. He pinned Shino down, ripping at his own crotch, freeing his cock. But Shino was saved from a rape that would likely have left him bloody given his tightness, the lack of lube, and the big girth of Kankurou’s cock. For reaching down to his cock with a wet and sandy hand made the older Suna brother howl with anger and frustration. He dragged the two of them to the pool, jumping in.

The water was cool enough to wilt both of their arousals a bit. They had gone into the deep side and spinning down in the bright lit water, their eyes met underwater—for Shino’s shades were long gone. They rose to surface together, sucking air in their lungs, and Kankurou just went for Shino’s mouth. This was his, his prey, his catch, his captive, and he needed to mark, to claim, to dominate. Shino’s cuffed hands were between their bodies, and without his hands and with his pants and shoes heavy around his ankles, he was sinking.

Kankurou kicked and used one arm to pull them to where they could stand with just their heads above the water, then went for Shino’s mouth again. He was hard again, his cock brushing against Shino’s cuffed hands; those incredible delts, triceps, and biceps of Shino’s arms under his own hands, the sculpted traps and lats of his back beneath his fingers, then his naked buttocks, oh god, his mouth, his mouth, that tongue that twisted and wiggled and flicked. Then Shino’s hands got a grip on his cock and made Kankurou pull back his head and shout. His cock wasn’t the sort that dildos are modeled on—it was only a bit over five inches, but it was thick, much thicker than average, almost as big around as a beer bottle. Shino’s long-fingered hands seemed to grip him completely from tip to base, pulsing tight and releasing as if he was buried in an orgasming body.

“Jesus Fuck, Shino!” Kankurou cried, bending his head and biting Shino’s shoulder on what looked like a cross between a spider and scorpion. Shino pulled abruptly away, losing his balance and going under. Kankurou pulled him to the surface and holding him back to his body, dragged him to the stairs. But halfway up the stairs he let Shino wiggle out of his grip and went for his feet, pulling off his boots, the ripped pants, stripping his prey of all his clothes. They floated to the bottom of the pool’s brightly lit aqua water. He then jerked off his own coveralls, his sandals lost long ago in the chase, only pulling out his wallet and keys and cellphone and throwing them on the side of the pool, before letting the black coveralls join Shino’s clothes at the bottom of the pool. Shit—he’d need a new cellphone. And Shino, damn him, had grabbed the keys with his cuffed hands and was flipping them, looking for the handcuff key.

Kankurou pulled the keys from his hands and pulled Shino up to his feet. “You keep struggling, you keep fighting, and I’m going to forget about using lube and just rape you like you’re asking for it. Now come inside, damn it.” And then, his heart beating loudly, he took another risk—he walked away to the French doors, unlocking them, leaving a naked Shino behind him. At the doorway, he hesitated. Suddenly, he was unsure if he should just go in further or turn around. Hell, he was unsure about everything—if the guy had cold feet, he really wasn’t leaving him many options locked in a backyard, cuffed, and naked—no phone and no car. Faced with his formal living room and its civility and grace—the elegant marble covered with thick oriental rugs, the glass cases with their objects de art, the carved walnut Louis Seize chairs with their tapestry upholstery (he’d given the designer way too much leeway, frankly), he felt suddenly like a gorilla. That familiar horrible feeling came back—he was always too big, too clumsy, too rough, too low-rent in his tastes—football, boxing, beer, burgers. Sasori and Temari always were fashionable, elegant, refined. And even Gaara had a slim grace and obvious beauty that made him feel like an ugly hulk. Christ, Shino was a professor—those eggheads were all into their wine, art receptions, jazz, and designer coffees. What would he want with a guy like me?

“I can’t come inside if you’re blocking the door,” said Shino from close behind him. “And if you don’t uncuff me, doggie-style is a no-go, big man.”

“Big man?” said Kankurou turning around, using his sexy voice and tugging Shino close.

“Master?”

“That’s better, boy. Now, let get you out of these cuffs and into my bed.”

“Yes, Master.”

But they kissed—although sucking face would be a more accurate term for what their mouths were doing--in the doorway till the sprinklers finally turned off, their forty-minute cycle complete. And the oil in the kitchen was closer than the bedroom, and they found that any chair will do when the uke just slides down on the lap of his seme. And cuffed hands can lope around a neck just fine.

Sometimes, simple is best.