D/s Naruto

Thanks Allys for finding that typo!

Chapter 75 (Sunday 18 June 2007, afternoon)

Dr. Hampstead was the doctor of both Hyuuga family and the head of both the Hyuuga corporation’s urgent care unit and wellness center. The building housing all this was in the main corporate complex, along with the employee gym, the cafeteria, and the daycare center. The urgent care unit dealt with minor problems. The ability to go get treatment for things like colds, bug bites, sunburn, rashes, headaches, sprains, and other minor things during the work day actually increased productivity—workers were able to come in when not feeling completely up to par, get treatment, and sometimes put in at least a partial day. The urgent care unit did have an x-ray machine to aid in diagnosis, and that was where Thomas, Hiashi, and Kimimaro were headed.

Before they had even gotten there, Kimimaro was feeling like he was Eliza Doolittle about to be turned into My Fair Lady. First of all, he’d been introduced to Thomas as Hiashi’s lover, which Thomas was to keep secret from the other servants. He would be initially presented as a physical therapist and personal assistant. But Kimimaro hadn’t heard anything past the word “lover,” which had stunned him. He never been anyone’s lover, for not only had no one had ever said a word of love to him, but also he’d never had any sex that could be called “love-making.” He knew Hiashi was just using the term to avoid saying more accurate ones, like submissive, bottom, uke, slave, or even something crude like fuckhole, but he could almost pretend he was this man’s lover. They were both in the back seat, sitting like equals. He was being called by his name. He listened dreamily to Hiashi explaining how he was going to need a physical examination and some tests to get his health care active, which could be done when they were at the Doctor’s, ordering Thomas to call and set up this and that plan.

“Kimimaro?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do you have your healthcare card with you?” asked Hiashi.

“I don’t have heath care, Sir. But I have my test results--” Kimimaro broke off as Hiashi made a gesture with his hand for silence.

“Bank account?”

“No, Sir.”

“Driver’s license?”

“No, Sir, but I have the ID card the DMV issues to non-drivers.”

“Social Security Card?”

“Yes, Sir. Shall I get it out, Sir?” asked Kimimaro, reaching for his wallet.

“Yes, Thomas will need it, along with the ID card,” said Hiashi. “I’m afraid you’ll be dealing with a lot of paperwork and the decorating.”

“Decorating, Sir?” asked Kimimaro, confused as he handed the cards to Hiashi.

“Your rooms adjoin mine. They are my ex-wife’s old rooms and haven’t been used for twelve years. And if I recall they are pink or peach, and you, boy, don’t look like the pink or peach type. You talk to Jane, she’s the designer we use, and get what you want. And no, ah, therapy equipment in the bedroom or bath. We’ll design the rooms for our therapy together. Well, I guess you could add things if you really want to—I want you to have just what you want.”

Kimimaro stared at Hiashi blankly. A bedroom and a bath for him to decorate. More rooms for the BDSM play, which judging from Sir’s blush was what he meant by “therapy.” Sir was looking at Kimimaro’s ID card now and scowling. For some reason that made Kimimaro relax; he was used to scowls. But a room—a room that was his ex-wife’s—oh, god, it was as if they were lovers—he was going to be in the wife’s room, a room adjoining his. He would likely spend the night then on the floor by Master’s, no, Sir’s bed. He’d help Sir bathe, dress. Oh god, and hopefully, he’d get to lick that cock of Sir’s. He would be good, very good, and earn that as a reward.

“Thomas? Oh good, here’s his cards. He’ll need a line of credit and a bank account, checks, debit card—oh, and we need Mr. Akatsuki back. Can you call him and tell him that Mr. Neji will need something like what he did for Ms. Anko for his Sai, and that I’ll need the same for Kimimaro, plus I’d like his help with our employment contract and confidentiality agreements. And Kimimaro will need a driving instructor.”

Kimimaro thought he needed oxygen—credit lines, driving instruction?

“Perhaps Mr. Sai, sir?”

“Brilliant, Thomas—can you call about that and the other things while the arm gets fixed? They should be able to find you an office with a fax and scanner as well. Side entrance, please.”

“Of course, Sir!” said Thomas sounding a little hurt.

They went in the private side entrance that led directly to Dr. Hampstead’s personal office and examination room. Peter Hampstead would have gone personally to Hiashi’s house, but the broken bone would require x-rays, so instead Hiashi was coming to him instead. The car was met by an attendant with a wheelchair. There was a moment’s awkwardness as the attendant, Thomas, and Kimimaro all moved to the back of the wheelchair. But Hiashi just said, “Don’t push too fast, Kimimaro.”

Thomas disappeared before the x-rays, which was the first thing Hiashi had done. He’d had them cut off the sleeve of his jacket and shirt, refusing to remove either. Then Kimimaro wheeled Hiashi into the special examination room that the nurse guided them too, telling them Dr. Hampstead would be in momentarily.

“Lock the door, boy,” ordered Hiashi, standing up and sitting down on the end of the examination table. Kimimaro did and when he turned around, he saw that his new master had his cock out. “Come here and distract me while I’m waiting,” he said.

“Thank you, Sir! Oh, Sir, I—“

“Shut up and suck cock, boy!”

And he did—oh, god, how he’d missed this. He felt so needed, so cared for, so alive when he had his mouth around a firm cock. He felt so close to his doms, his masters—you could feel their blood pulsing in the veins of the leg, the rate of their heart. Cock didn’t lie—you were pleasing, you were arousing, or you weren’t. Precum, cum—they were proof he was needed, that he was wanted. And often if you did a very good job, you might get to do it again soon or, more rarely, even earn some other reward. On his birthday last year, Orochimaru had let him work a gloryhole all night, sucking cock after cock--most with condoms, but some without. It had been the best birthday of his life. But he couldn’t think about the past now, he had to make this good, make this the best fucking blowjob he could give.

But he’d hardly started when the door rattled, and Hiashi tugged at his head with his right hand, hissing down, “Quick, stand up and kiss me.”

He obeyed instinctively, standing up and pushing his face towards Sir’s, but then he wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never been kissed or kissed another person. But Sir’s good arm was around him, his mouth crushing down on his, and his tongue plunging inside seeking his. He tried to treat that tongue like a small cock, but it moved and it licked and sucked back. Hiashi was making sounds like he’d made when Kimimaro had sucked his cock—sounds of pleasure and desire. And he could feel the sounds in his mouth! Kissing—it was even more intimate than sucking cock, more like having sex, no, more like frotting. It was like they were lovers. Kimimaro clung, lost in the kisses, not wanted them to end. But then he felt that hand tug hard on his hair, pulling his head back. And instantly he was filled with fear—he hadn’t done it right, he’d been too aggressive, Sir hated his kisses—

But Sir was smiling, saying, “Let me get my arm fixed, baby, then we can pick up where we left off. Make me presentable for the Doc, and I’ll introduce you two.”

Kimimaro dropped his head, letting his hair cover his face, as he carefully tucked in Sir’s cock, snapped his boxers, and zipped up his pants. Then there was the button and the belt. He tried to focus, but he was shaking, tears running down his face.

“Baby, Kimimaro, are you ok?”

He nodded, trying to say “Yes, Sir,” but what came out sounded pathetic.

“No, no, you’re not. Peter, I think Kimimaro’s suffering from shock or maybe anxiety. Please, can you see to him first.”

And that, oh, god, that was enough to make him stop crying and get a grip, “No, no, Sir, first! I’m fine! It’s just that I—I love Sir!”

“My name is Hiashi, Kimimaro. When you tell me you love me, call me Hiashi. Now go wash your face there in the corner and take a drink of water. Peter, will I need pins, surgery, or is it a clean break?”

“A clean break, and well set too—who did it?”

“My nephew’s fiancée, who I’ll be getting on Neji to get over here and properly checked out and insured.”

And then the doctor and patient were talking as the cast was applied to the broken left arm. Kimimaro stood by the sink with the paper cup in hand, trying to calm down, and listen.

When it seemed like the procedure was done, the doctor turned the conversation back from people Kimimaro didn’t know to the arm: “Hiashi, you need this arm immobile and elevated above your head for the rest of the night with periodic icing. I want you to spend three days in bed with this arm elevated—I’ll come over and check you tomorrow and depending on whether you have swelling, numbness, or tingling, I’ll set an exercising and icing regime. I’m also going to prescribe you a number of medicines, but I’ll explain them all to Kimimaro here. Stand up and drop your pants, Hiashi. I’m giving you a pain injection.”

“Peter, no.”

“No?”

“Oh, fuck, you’ll both know this soon enough.” And Sir’s eyes looked up at Kimimaro’s then down, as if he was ashamed. “Neji told Sai about when I abused him. He broke my arm, beat the crap out of my back and ass, and raped me. It’s ok, though. We came to an understanding. It was justified given what I did.” Kimimaro dropped his paper cup, trying to process that.

“Does this Sai know that your father abused you?” The doctor’s question seemed to come from far, far away. Kimimaro’s chest hurt, and his one hand found the sink edge and gripped tightly.

“Yes, Peter.”

“Dear Fucking God! Well, I can’t wait to meet this Sai. Fiancée, eh? First Hinata, now Neji. Lord, the kids are all grown up! Ok, Hiashi, drop them. I’m going to have to examine your anus and rectum now, too. But the injection first.”

Kimimaro wasn’t able to move. His hand was gripping the porcelain of the sink so tightly it was going numb.

“Talk to him about plastic surgery. I’ll pay for it.”

“Who?”

“Sai. The kid is scarred brutally—some of it clearly more recent than childhood. I haven’t got a report on him yet, but there may be some legal action, so take pictures when you examine him. He’ll be ok now; for all Neji’s kinks, he doesn’t scar his lovers.”

Scars. Lovers. Abuse. Rape. Kisses. Hiashi. Raped. Beaten. Baby. Lover. Kisses.

“I think I should take pictures of this, Hiashi.”

Hiashi—my Hiashi, my Sir. Raped. Beaten. Calls me baby. Calls me his lover. Says he’ll beat me till I bleed.

“You do, and I’ll find myself another doctor, Peter.”

Doctors. Medical Insurance. He promised to bandage me and bring me painkillers. His cock. Oh, god, the taste of his cock.

“Well, I wanted to make my opinion clear, Hiashi. Of course, I’m not going to take pictures you don’t want.”

Don’t want—want, he wants me to have what I want in my room. He wants me in the room that was his wife’s. He wants me. He wants to kiss me some more.

“Neji CANNOT hear of what Sai did, from both of you, Peter and Kimimaro.” The sound of his name made Kimimaro focus on what was being said. Hiashi continued, “It is up to Sai to tell him if and when he does. Neither of you must say a word about this to anyone. Neji has suffered enough.”

“Dammit, Hiashi, why are you protecting someone who broke your arm, raped and beat you?”

“He’s the reason I have Kimimaro, Peter. Like the song says, `I call that a bargain, the best I’ve ever had.’” And that was it—Kimimaro was Hyuuga Hiashi’s, now and forever.

Dr. Hampton snorted, but before he started speaking, Kimimaro said, “I promise you, Sir, I will not tell anyone.” As he spoke, he finally moved from where he’d been frozen by the sink, coming up to the edge of the examination table.

“Will you hold my hand?” asked Hiashi, looking up at him, not able to keep his face from showing his uncertainty.

Kimimaro fell on that hand, taking it in both of his, putting his face down and covering it with kisses.

“Stop that silly,” said Hiashi in a voice full of relief.

“Hiashi,” was all Kimimaro said, his voice so full of love that Dr. Hampstead blushed.

“If you are going to kiss me, come kiss my lips,” said Hiashi, his voice seductive and sweet.

“I am trying to conduct an examination, here,” snapped Peter, trying to get control of the situation.

“Peter, give it a rest. I’ll let you know if I don’t start healing properly. I’ll have Kimimaro can examine me several times a day, so just focus on the arm, ok?”

“He can’t fuck you, Hiashi, for at least a week, minimum. Your lover has been hurt, young man, and if you want to keep him happy and healthy, you keep your dick out his ass no matter how hard he begs for it.”

“Yes, Sir!” said Kimimaro in a strangled voice. Now it was his face that was bright red, and he was having trouble breathing.

“Peter, get the fuck out, now!”

And then it was just the two of them. They kissed and kissed, like two young teens, as if they would kiss for hours. But at last Hiashi said, “Please, baby, I have to fuck you. Sit on the table and put your legs up for me.”

It was a fucking, not lovemaking. Kimimaro was on his back on the examining table, his legs held up while Hiashi standing at the foot of the table, thrusting in, stroking Kimimaro’s cock with his good hand, covered with lube. He drove in quickly, not trying to find Kimimaro’s prostate or bothering to stretch him. It didn’t last long, maybe five minutes at the most before Hiashi came inside his uke with a cry. But to Kimimaro, it was beautiful, and the sight of Hiashi lost in pleasure combined with the feel of his cum filling him, brought him to an orgasm as well. He didn’t need lovemaking, didn’t need Hiashi to say “I love you”—what he had said was more than he’d ever had before, more than enough, and Kimimaro would never forget it.

But Hiashi was swaying on his feet, and his speech slurred as he told Kimimaro how beautiful he looked when he came. Kimimaro had him cleaned, his pants up and fastened, and sitting in the wheelchair before he bothered to deal with cleaning himself. He was quick about it, and it didn’t take long before they were looking for Thomas and heading to the car. Hiashi was barely awake when Thomas and Kimimaro put him in the car. But as Thomas made his way through the parking lot, Hiashi said, “Your hand, baby, please.” And he held it tight even as he slept all the way back to his home. Once they were in the garage, Kimimaro tried to gently pull his hand away, so he could help lift Hiashi out of the car. For the car was surrounded by curious faces, men and women. Every servant in the house had raced out to meet the car. But Hiashi stirred as Kimimaro tried to free his hand and said in a voice that sounded painfully childlike, “Please don’t let go, don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, Hiashi, I promise I won’t,” said Kimimaro with his own voice full of emotion.

Before he’d even stepped out of the car, Kaguya Kimimaro had just become the favored, golden child of the main house.