D/s Naruto

Chapter 36 (Sunday 17 June 2007, morning)

When Sai pulled Neji’s car into the driveway, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to come home to a house, a house you shared with someone you found precious. The last house he’d lived in was when he was eleven with his brother. In that foster home, they hadn’t been seriously hurt, just a few punches. The worst had been having hardly any food and no decent clothes. But Sai couldn’t remember that house without pain, for that had been the house where he and his brother had been separated when their latest set of foster parents split. He’d come home from school to find his brother and foster mother gone. He’d left only when he’d realized that staying wasn’t going to help him find his brother.

He never lived in a house since then. He’d lived on the streets until Danzou had found him, and since then he’d lived in Danzou’s apartment above the club. He’d never even been in a neighborhood like this one. It was like a fairy tale, this little house with its odd round windows, strange timbers on the stucco, and pretty window boxes full of pink and white flowers. The roof slanted in weird ways, and the shingles moved over the roof in wavy bands. There were weird rose bushes that looked like balls of blossoms on tiny sticks and two archways covered with roses at points on the path to the front door. There was a fountain shooting water into the sunlight surrounded with petunias. The garage looked like a stable, and Sai half expected to find there was a horse in there. There was on the far side of the house a big tree of some kind with a swing hanging from it—a big wide board with two thick ropes holding it up. There was a big birdhouse on a pole, and the birdhouse had timbers and shingles to match the house itself.

It didn’t look real.

Sai got out and just stared and stared. He forgot to go and pick up Neji, forgot even what he was doing here. A bird swooped down and landed in the fountain splashing, washing itself.

Neji got out of the car, wondering why Sai was standing frozen and silent. Yes, his house was awful, embarrassingly, excessively feminine and overdone. He quietly walked around the car wanting to see the expression on Sai’s face, to see just how horrified he was. But Sai wasn’t horrified, wasn’t scornful. He looked impressed—no, beyond that, like he was seeing something he hadn’t thought possible, some miracle. But there was a touch of sadness in his face—or maybe Neji was just reading too much into it?

He turned to Neji and blinked. Then he spoke, his voice so full of longing that Neji felt a little pang of jealousy that Sai hadn’t used that voice to ask for something from him, for a kiss, a touch, anything. “Can I paint it? Can I paint you by the fountain? But I want to paint you on the swing, too. And with the door open, on the doorstep, your face turning back over your shoulder as if you were welcoming someone home. But I still want to paint you naked, naked on a bed, just at the moment when you come. I could spend a year just in this front yard painting,” said Sai. “You bent over smelling a rose, your long hair falling around your face.”

Neji laughed, happier once Sai’s painting wishes had moved from the house to him. He said, “Then you’d better move in. That’s a lot of painting. And hotel rooms aren’t a good place to paint. Come inside, there’s an office you could paint in or maybe the dining room. I don’t use it. Or you can use the studio over the garage although that doesn’t have good light. But come on, it’s too damn bright out here. And I need some coffee.”

And Sai glowed like he’d just been offered the moon.

For the first time, Neji felt proud of his house.

And then Sai did something Neji didn’t expect. He knelt down in the driveway and kissed Neji’s shoes and then hugged the Hyuuga’s legs tightly—and didn’t let go. And Neji had the terrible feeling that he might be crying, that awful way he had of crying with no sound, no movement. He pulled at the thick black hair, saying crossly, “Dammit, boy, I want my coffee! And never, never kneel outside in white leather pants. You are a pain slut—you must be! You kept doing things that you know I’ll have to beat you for. And if you can’t treat leather pants the way they should be treated, I’m not going to let you wear them. You can strip out of them the minute you’re in the door.”

“Yes, Master,” said Sai, still clinging to Neji’s legs. But then he let go and rose up to his feet, head bowed, holding out Neji’s keys to him.

Neji snatched them and flew up the walk as best as he could—he was sore and hurting. Sai’s dick was a fucking battering ram. And Neji almost tripped remembering how it had felt to have that monstrosity thrust all the way inside him.

“Master! Master, shall I carry you? May I carry you?”

“No.”

And then the door was open, and Neji hobbled to the kitchen, collapsing in the chair closest to the door. Ah, fuck, sitting hurt. “Go get me some pain killers from the bathroom, boy. It’s over there.”

And then it was Neji’s turn to stare, to feel like he was watching a miracle. Completely naked with that impossibly big cock fully erect, Sai got the pain killers with a glass of water, fetched a soft cushion for him to sit on, and then made Neji a meal that rivaled those made by master chefs trained in the finest cooking schools. The coffee was brewing in no time, the oranges in the bowl on the table were squeezed for their juice, and a batter whipped up and marvelous crepes, paper thin, started to pile up on a platter. And they were filled—some with fruit, some with eggs, some with cheese—and covered with odd sauces that tasted heavenly. Sai made no move to eat, kneeling in the center of the kitchen, leaping to his feet to bring more coffee, more juice, more food.

When Neji could eat no more, he said, “Very good, boy, very good. I’m pleased. Now you can eat your meal, then do the dishes. Then I think we’ll have your punishment before you pick where you want to paint. Next on the agenda, I guess we’ll find you some clothes to wear when you fetch your things. You can call some art stores to find out if they have the canvases you’ll need and any supplies you don’t have. If you can talk the manager into taking my credit card over the phone and delivering for a hundred or so, do it. But if you really want to go look, I suppose I can make the effort. But I expect a massage this afternoon. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master,” said Sai, glowing again. “Thank you, Master.” He made himself a plate, poured some orange juice into one bowl, some coffee into another, and set it all on the floor.

Neji watched fascinated as he knelt and ate, periodically looking up to see if his master had any commands. Neji suddenly remembered those golden nipple clamps that Sasuke had been wearing. Oh, yes, he wanted to see Sai with a pair of those—no, maybe just with pierced nipples.

“I want to have your nipples, your ears, and your belly pierced,” said Neji abruptly.

“Yes, Master,” said Sai. “Should I call and see if it can be done today?”

“Yes, after your punishment. Hmm, call Naruto. See if he’s going to be open today,” ordered Neji.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” said Sai, but without his expression really changing the glow started to go away. Neji wondered if he would ever smile and frown freely at all. He was feeling so pleased with the world that he had no doubt however that he could tell when Sai was happy or not, despite the lack of change in his face. And then Sai spoke, his words revealing his worry, “Would Master care to be told of possible ramifications of having the piercings done by Master Naruto?”

“Ramifications? Oh, yes, do tell, boy!” said Neji, lazy and sated.

“Mr. Itachi is jealous of Mr. Sasuke’s interest in Mr. Uzumaki. Mr. Sasuke is very possessive of Mr. Uzumaki and apparently has ordered him to not pierce anyone at the club except himself. He was, however, a sub at the time, and in punishment is to have his cock pierced in addition to the ear and navel piercing. Also, I don’t know if Master cares to hear this, but Mr. Itachi purchased the fifteen-thousand dollar gold nipple clamps and five-thousand dollar gold slave bracelet from Mr. Uzumaki for Mr. Sasuke, which Mr. Uzumaki seemed a little hesitant to sell him.”

“Hmmm,” said Neji, thinking unhappily of his bank balance. He couldn’t afford to spend that sort of money on Sai—maybe six or seven thousand at the most. He’d need a new collar for Sai; there was no way he was going to put that scrap of leather and jade he used on Shikamaru on his neck. It then struck him that he hadn’t even fucked Sai, and he already had asked him to move in. And move in, as a person, not a sub, for all that he was subbing now. Subs don’t paint. But then he thought of Deidara and relaxed. Deidara didn’t work, of course, but he painted, made pottery, and did bizarre things called “installations” which Neji despised but went to anyway. One of the stupid things he did for his uncle was buy the art for the Hyuuga office. He’d stopped trying to buy things he liked or even thought his uncle liked or hated. It didn’t matter as the art was just an excuse for his uncle to excoriate him for his choices and humiliate him in front of clients and the board. He was starting to hate art—and he was moving in an artist! Neji felt a moment of panic before he felt Sai tugging at his feet, pulling off a loafer, and starting to lick and suck his toes.

“Go fetch the lube from the top drawer to the left of the stove,” ordered Neji.

“Yes, Master,” said Sai. He wasn’t glowing any more.

“Twenty lashes, now,” said Neji. “Nineteen for getting up slowly in the driveway, and twenty for undressing me without permission.” Neji couldn’t help but grin at that last reason—Sai wasn’t getting any punishment for having ripped his pants yesterday, making him come home in this pair the club had provided.

“Thank you, Master,” said Sai, bringing him the lube and starting to kneel.

“No, stay on your feet. Turn away from me, and bend down and grab your ankles, boy.” He did, and Neji found himself staring at Sai’s ass. The tube of lube fell from his hands, forgotten. It was horrible, horrible to see those scars. “Stand up,” he said in a hoarse voice. Oh god, the back, the back was worse. How had he not seen his back last night? But somehow, he hadn’t. He remembered Sai’s words about allowing everything, even scars, and felt sick. He stood up, trying to move to the sink, and collided with Sai, losing balance. But he was caught by Sai, and this somehow made Neji lose it, and he burst into tears. And Sai held him close, once more caressing him, kissing his head, whispering words of reassurance.

It was when Sai softly said, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe,” that Neji started screaming, “Me! Me! What about you? You have limits now, dammit, you have limits! You are never, never, never to let anyone scar you! Ever! Do you understand me? No one! No knife play, no scars! No burns! Goddamn it!” And he started crying again, frustrated, angry, feeling sick at his twenty lashes, sick for the boy who had been not just raped like him, but beaten and tortured and forced to watch someone he loved tortured.

“Neji, Neji,” said Sai, pulling him back into his arms, “I understand, no scars, no knife play, no burns. And no bondage with you, nothing that would keep me from protecting you.” That stopped Neji’s tears, and he stared at Sai, shocked. To refuse bondage? But how could you be a sub and not be bound? `Is this his way of saying he will only dom with me? Is this morning all a joke?’ Neji asked himself.

“I will never need any bonds with you, Master,” said Sai. “Just tell me how you want my body held, how you want me restrained, and I will restrain myself. And it’s ok if the restraints are those I can get out of. I promised you. I won’t let you be hurt. And I will kill your uncle.”

Neji felt like his heart stopped. He knew, knew that Sai was serious. “You killed him, didn’t you? The one that hurt your brother,” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” was all Sai said.

And Neji stared at him, then bowed his head, whispering, “I’m glad.” But he raised his head up, saying seriously, “But you can’t kill my uncle. He’s watched now and can’t hurt anyone else. He’s no danger, and death, death, would be too easy for him. And it would hurt my cousins.” Neji had never thought he liked his cousins at all, but suddenly, suddenly viewed in terms of life and death, he knew he did, and he said, “I don’t want others to hurt, to suffer, and his death would do that. There’s been enough suffering, enough pain. No more. I’m not in risk, Sai, any more than the average person. You will have to accept some bondage, Sai, nothing unreasonable, nothing you can’t use a safeword with, or you can’t paint me.”

“It’s ok at the club; the security is good there. But here, here, what if—“ Sai stopped, bowed his head, and apologized. “I’m sorry, Master. I just panicked. I just,” Sai paused, then continued, “I just can’t let someone else I’ve promised to protect be raped, be killed.”

“But I want to protect you just as much,” said Neji. “Will you force me to watch as you let other men torture you, harm you? I can’t bear it, Sai. I’m worse than Sasuke. I don’t want you to work at Uchiha’s anymore; I don’t want you to work any job. I want all of you, 24/7, here in my house. I pay the maids, the gardener, the pool man—you can have their jobs, their pay. It’s probably not what you’d make at Uchiha’s, but—“

Sai just pulled Neji to him and kissed him fiercely, cutting off his words. Then his hands cupped around Neji’s face, and he said, “I’m not free. I’ve never been collared, I’m not held by contract, but I’ve been the slave of a man since I was thirteen. I own nothing, but the case file on my brother’s killer and his execution. I’m not here at Uchiha’s to work. I’m here to spy on the club; my owner, for that’s what he is, owns Roots in LA. I knew if I attacked you, I would likely be fired, and he would punish me, but I didn’t care. And now, I don’t care about him, but he’s deadly. He taught me to how to kill, and he found—he found the foster parents who’d abused my brother and me. He arranged and planned the kills. They were presents for me, presents. He might kill you, might want me back. I can’t be bound as long as he’s alive. And he has friends, friends in the LAPD, the CIA, the FBI, in all sorts of places. I need to protect you.”

“No!” said Neji, not having heard any of the latter part of Sai’s speech, “They weren’t presents! Forcing someone to commit murder is not a present, Sai, no matter how much you want them dead! He’s been raping and abusing you, whoring you out, making you a killer, making you someone who cries without a cry. Do you love him? Can you really leave him? He’s the one who taught you to come on command, isn’t he? Sex, sex is so horrible to you, you don’t even like it, do you? You don’t want it, you don’t fantasize, you don’t masturbate!” And staring at the shocked look on Sai’s face, Neji believed it was all true. And suddenly he felt it was hopeless, hopeless. “You’re going to leave me and go back to him,” said Neji in a quivering voice.

And Sai slapped him, hard, and Neji felt his mouth fill with blood and would have fallen to the floor, but Sai caught him. “No one, no one else but you, ever again,” he said. “Collar me, chain me, control me, but know that you’re mine, now, mine to kill for, mine to come for, mine to paint. Give me away, set me free, and I’ll take you captive. Ride or be ridden. You have no other choice.”

Neji reached between their bodies, and his hands circled Sai’s cock in the position you might use to pray before tightening, squeezing around that big erection. “But I want to fuck you and be fucked by you. I want it all,” said Neji. “I want you to want, I want you to beg, I want you to come without be ordered to. I want to hear you scream, cry, laugh. I want you to smile, to frown. I want you to prefer things, to desire things.”

“Master!” cried Sai thrusting up into Neji’s squeezing hands and coming.

His cum shot up into Neji’s face and hair, and Neji pulled one hand off that ejaculating cock and grabbed one of Sai’s balls and squeezed sharply. Sai screamed, “Master! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please forgive me!” And the coming, the scream, the begging catapulted Neji past hope into ecstasy, into lust.

“Bend over and grab those ankles, now,” ordered Neji. He let go of Sai abruptly and pulled out his own cock. His right hand slid over the cum on his face and hair; he just barely slicked his cock with it and thrust into Sai. His pounded into him, not caring that he wasn’t stretched and barely lubed. He worked in and out, roughly. Then feeling his orgasm coming, he thrust in as far as he could go, and leaning down, reached around and squeezed Sai’s cock and balls hard, wanting to hear him scream again.

“Master! Master! Yes! Please punish me! Yes, Master!” shouted out Sai. “Master!” And Neji filled his ass for the first time, not letting go his painful grip on Sai’s genitals, until Sai screamed, “Please, Please, Please,” the torment and pain evident in his voice.

Neji let go and pulled out, saying, “Don’t move.” He ripped off the clothes he was still wearing. He was panting, dizzy, shaking, and feeling too many emotions all at once. But anger welled up in him—he had wanted to make Sai scream and beg, but for sex, not punishment. And even as his mind said that, he had the sense he wasn’t quite grasping the depth of what he wanted Sai to beg for, what he really, really wanted. But he slammed the door on his own self-examination. That Sai wanted was good, was important, and just now he needed to know he could make Sai respond, shout, scream, cry. And Sai needed to remember how to do that. And pain, pain was the key. He bolted into the hall, grabbed a riding crop from the dry sink there, raced back to the kitchen, and began beating Sai hard, working over his ass, his legs, his back, raising twenty red welts covering Sai from knee to shoulder. If he didn’t do it now, now when he had felt the vomit rising in his throat at the sight of Sai’s scars, he might never do it.

But Sai didn’t cry out, didn’t count, didn’t thank, didn’t scream, and Neji wasn’t in control enough to make him do any of that. He didn’t wait in between lashes, didn’t talk, just raised his arm and brought it down hard. At then at last, tears streaming down his own face, Neji threw the crop on the floor and pulled at Sai’s hair, jerking his face up, so he could look at it, screaming, “Damn you, damn you, there’s nothing, nothing—“ But Sai’s face was red, and those silent tears were running down his face. And Neji felt hope and relief fill him so fast, so intensely, it was like an emotional orgasm.

“You will learn to cry aloud,” he said finding his voice, “learn to talk to me, talk to me constantly, telling me how you feel, how your body, how you mind, how your heart feels.” And then he lost his voice again, pushed against the sense his own heart wasn’t working right, heavy and loud in his chest. “I don’t just want your body. It’s not about scars and blood or welts and flinching. I want to hear that I’m affecting you, hear you reacting to me, to know that you feel me, that you really feel something. When you feel, I feel, and the rush makes me want to make you feel more, till we push ourselves to places that we didn’t know we could go—just like we did last night. We can go so much farther, deeper, than that. Can’t you smell the future, almost taste it in the air? Are you feeling it, feeling me, feeling you? What do you feel?”

“I want, I want, Master, I do, I do. You’re hands were squeezing me, and all I could think of was how it felt like I was being squeezed by your tight ass. How I hoped you enjoyed it, how it hurt, but I liked it because it was your hands on me, the hands of someone who wants me, wants me 24/7. And how, now, now I will suffer, suffer like I’ve never suffered before because I want you to smile at me, to kiss me, to praise me, to fuck me, to pierce me, to beat me, to order me, to keep me, to collar me, only me, just me, me, Master, no one else, just me. Please, please, Master, please,” begged Sai, the tears running down his face. His cock was already hard again, and Neji felt himself suddenly shake remembering that cock inside him. He moaned and slid to his knees in front of Sai.

“Kiss me, hold me, carry me to the bed, and fuck me again like you did last night,” whispered Neji, his voice full of longing, desire, need. “Make me scream and beg.”

And Sai threw back his head and laughed, the tears still wet on his face. It was the laugh of a lover feeling his power, the laugh of a man happy with himself and his position, the laugh of a man that knows he had everything he wants at this moment right in his hands.

He kissed Neji, then found the lube over by the kitchen table and coated his cock with it. He picked up Neji, kissing him, saying, “Put your arms and legs around me.” And then he moved Neji over his cock, the thick head at his anus, ready to push inside. “Kiss me,” he ordered. Neji moaned and clung, his mouth seeking Neji’s in a frantic, needy, desperate kiss.

And Sai pushed Neji’s hips down and thrust up, capturing his scream in his own mouth, keeping the kiss going for a minute longer before exploding into motion. But instead of down the hall to the bedroom, he ran to the front door and outside. Gravity and motion forced Neji down on Sai’s cock, and he cried out at the sensation and the shock of being naked outside, visible from the street. He started struggling, fighting, but the pleasure and his emotional and physical weariness worked against him. And a bit of a way down the path, Sai leaped over the flowerbed, ran over the soft grass, past the fountain, to the tree and the swing.

“Please, Sai, please, Master, not outside, not in front of my house, please, please, inside.”

“Oh, I’m going to go deep inside you, Neji, deep.” And Sai sat on the swing and began to work it into the air. The sensation of sliding down on that huge cock, the movement of the swing back and forth, swinging higher and higher—oh god, amazing, frightening. He was being fucked, fucked in his front yard so that anyone coming down this lane could see. And then terror and shock jolted through him when Sai let his body fall back from his lap, his head dangling down, the blood rushing to it, his hair swinging—it was too much, and Neji screamed. And the swing reached its apex and swung back, flinging him forward into Sai as their bodies swooped down and started climbing again. And this time Sai pushed up with his hips, forcing his cock deeper into Neji’s convulsing and still sore ass. And Neji began to beg—for what he didn’t know, he couldn’t get that far in his thoughts, beyond that his Master could give it to him. But the needs and the sensations grew until he screamed again, forgetting he was outside, forgetting everything, just feeling.

And next door, Hinata dropped the garden clippers and the rose she had just cut to place on Anko’s breakfast tray and ran to wall between their houses. She scrambled up it, destroying the flowering vines, her shyness gone, overwhelmed by protective instincts. That was Neji, Neji who didn’t scream like an animal in pain, and she had to help him. Her heart was beating so hard, her head was swimming, and she felt faint. She ran across the drive, seeing the swing, the figures, not understanding, just needing to make sure Neji was ok. Then by the time she hit the grass by the fountain, her brain finally processed what she had been seeing, and her legs gave out. She began to fall to the lawn, looking over, still stunned. Time slowed, and it seemed like flowers would have time to bloom and die before the green grass rose up and touched her face. And the thud of its impact shuddered through her body, and she could hear the birds, the water in the fountain, the creak of the swing, and her cousin’s begging and screaming, and then it grew distant and dim, and finally blackness claimed her.


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A/N: I went back and changed the age at which Danzou took in Sai to 13. I'm going to continue this scene as well as Chapter 35, but I'm not sure if I'll tack on more on here or in a whole new chapter. By the way, I don't know if I can write Yuri at all, and frankly, I just don't get it (how do you fuck with no penis?), so there may not be any Anko/Hinata action although I'm trying to give them more time in the plot and potentially, club membership . . .

Just a note to the curious about Neji/Sai/Neji. This is sort of redux of the Neji of Virgin Kiss in a weird way. Neji is a proud character and will dominate people out of pride. But remember how he really got to be a better person in the Sacred Canon when he got beat up by Naruto? And how adorable he was as a kid pre-curse scar? So I think he'd be happier as a sub, but just can't let go until he's forced to or at an extreme emotional point. Sai has submitted but not really because it does anything for him sexually. It's just how he dealt with pain and the path of least effort and resistance in a weird way. Subbing is good because it is what is normal to him, particularly when it is just stuff like cooking, cleaning. So anyway, he really doesn't know what he wants sexually. But he's finding he likes looking at Neji when Neji's at his most emotional--i.e. when he subs. And I think he wants the childhood he never had with a swing, a pool, a house, all the paints he can have and painting as much as he can without having to do weird sex acts for his Master. I'm sure the romantics at heart have long figured out what Neji really wants Sai to beg for, what he can't admit he needs yet . . .

So is it all clear now?