Dirty Little Secret

CHAPTER 7



During the lengthly civil war, the prison was one of the few places that actually hadn’t suffered any sort of damage – it had been taken last – a few hours after Naruto ripped Danzo limb from limb in a fit of murderous, vengeful rage. In fact, it wasn’t even taken per se - the guards, formerly loyal to the usurper - had given themselves up, releasing all the political prisoners and hostages. Apart from the actual criminals occupying the large network of underground tunnels – thieves, murderers, rapists, frauds and so on – there was a lot of free space.



On the deepest level of the facility, where the air was always stale and stank of fungi and dust and other, less discernable and pleasant, things there was a long corridor with no cells that lined up its dark, dank walls. At the end of that unlit corridor, there was a single door, held in place by several locks and seals – not that the person inside was capable of actually breaking out a normal door, let alone one guarded by the shinobi craft – it was never a bad thing to be prepared, just in case.



For the past several months Naruto had visited this cell – not as often as he wished to – but often enough to satisfy the urges that Kyuubi’s personality – now part of his own – instilled in him. And they grew and grew, fed by the anger and frustration he felt at dealing with all the issues of his broken homeland, issues caused partially by the occupant of that dungeon.



He had been captured only four months before they finally beat Danzo, after a victory that had preceded the one at home, but no less an important one. That battle too had taken so many lives, so many dreams extinguished – like candles in the wind – that whenever the Hokage thought about him, he filled with blinding rage and hatred. Ever since Jiraiya-sensei’s death things had become personal for him, however with time his teacher had become one of the many faces of the dead ones that Naruto committed to memory and laid the fault of their demise at the enemy’s feet.



So here he was now, visiting once again – it had been at least few weeks since the last time. The blond carried a lit torch, illuminating his path down the corridor, lest he tripped on a stone that was sticking out.

The door opened with a loud, tooth-grinding screech and the Hokage entered the small cell – its slimy stone walls surrounding a tiny living space – barely 3 by 3 meters in length and about two in height. There was no cot, no table, no chair – the only object inside the place being a small chamber pot sitting at the far corner. However, there was a person inside.



Under the golden light of the torch Naruto saw him: curled in a corner, naked, face covered by his thin hands so that only the shock of fiery hair was visible above them. His skinny knees were drawn to his chest, entire body folded in on itself, trying to make himself as small as possible. His pale skin was littered with wounds and scars and bruised, marring his flesh in a pattern that Naruto knew by heart by now. Some where new, some where years old, inflicted by someone other than him. As irrational as it sounded, thinking of that other person made Naruto jealous, as much as he hated to admit that even to himself.



He approached the trembling figure who seemed to shake even more at each step sounding closer to him and looked down. He had been washed apparently, and the dungeon - cleaned - as per Naruto’s orders, because the stench was almost gone, as much as it was possible in this place.



The Hokage reached and ran his callused hand through soft fiery tresses, petting them as one would an animal. The trembling seized immediately and the body froze, too terrified to even shake in fear.



The fingers traveled down, tracing the soft skin on a pale cheek and then grasped the captive’s chin, lifting his head up, looking down at one painfully familiar pretty face and empty eye-sockets.



“Master?” the man once known as Pein croaked, voice hoarse with disuse and screaming.



“Is this a way to greet me, Nagato?” the blonde asked softly and the older man shook his head, as much as he could as tight as Naruto’s grab was, then attempted to slip into a familiar position – on his knees, forehead pressed against Naruto’s shoes, hands crossed behind his back. It was a pose of utter submission and coming from his prisoner, it never failed to arouse the Hokage to the point of pain. The irony of it was not lost on the blonde and he chuckled, a deep, hoarse sound that had the pale figure at his feet shivering again.



“That is a little better.” He muttered. “Now, why don’t you show me how much you missed me?”



The red-head rubbed his face against his sandal-covered foot, then tenderly kissed his toes. Naruto hissed with pleasure, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, feeling the agile mouth worship his feet. Slowly, the prisoner worked his way up and rubbed his face against his pants-covered knee resembling a great cat seeking for a approval and affection. Still keeping his hands behind his back, Pein nuzzled the blonde’s erection, sucking on its side through the cloth and the Hokage shuddered in delight, his hand tangling in wild fiery locks again as the clever mouth grabbed onto his zipper and attempted to pull down.



“You’re such a crafty thing, Nagato…” he muttered disapprovingly, a hard, vicious edge entering his tone and the red-head froze. “Hoping to get me wet before I fuck you?” The full, pierced lips trembled in fear and he tried to shake his head despite the grip in his hair:



“No… No, Master.”



“I would hope not. You know much I dislike it when you’re being sneaky.”



A whimper tore out of the abused throat but Nagato made no attempt to defend himself further. The hand in his hair became gentle, petting the soft tresses once again.



“Some of your Ame nin in attacked a convoy of ours…caused quite a bit of havoc. What did you do, Nagato? Turn those people into a nation of thugs and thieves?”



The red-head knew better than respond to that, so he kept silent. Naruto frowned furiously down at him, then said:



“You want prep? Then do it yourself.”



The figure paused, as if unsure what to do, then slowly turned around and presented Naruto with a pale, lash-marks covered behind. Nagato raised his ass and spread his legs obediently and began sucking on his own fingers as the Hokage took a step back an leaned against the wall to enjoy the view.



“You like this.” He stated, watching Pein’s erection dangle between his spread thighs.



“You’ve always had, haven’t you?” his voice turned mocking as Nagato’s index and ring-finger entered his abused, reddened opening without hesitation.



“You’ve liked it for a very long time.” He continued as he watched the glistening digits slide in and out the moist entrance and licked his lips as he noticed how it stretched and tightened to accommodate the shape of the man’s fingers.



‘I have fucked him so many times and yet his body is still so responsible.’



“Enough.” He ordered coldly and slid down on his knees behind the red-head, lowering his fly and freeing his erection. He pressed the blunt head against the barely prepared opening and rubbed it against it, leaving a glistening trail of precome smeared around it. Then, finally, he pushed in. Under him, Pein whimpered like an injured little animal but Naruto ignored him and began thrusting in him roughly, flinging his head back at the sheer satisfaction of doing this.



“You’re always as tight as a virgin, Nagato…” he muttered and grabbed a pale asscheek, squeezing greedily, then slid his hand around him and found his erection. The red-head moaned again, a heady sound of both pleasure and fear as Naruto squeezed the base beyond the point of pain.



“Such a slut.” He muttered and leaned to suck on the piercings of his ear as his other hand went to wrap itself around the man’s throat. They were both close, so Naruto suddenly tightened his grip and cut off his captive’s breath.



“You’ve always wanted to belong to someone, haven’t you?” he goaded him, hand tightening further. “You wanted Jiraiya-sensei to be your papa, didn’t you? Poor little orphan that you were. And then he left.” Hot tears were wetting his tightened fingers. “Is that why you killed him? Because he left? Because he didn’t stay long enough for you to grow up enough for him to take you to bed? Like I do now? Because he chose my father over you? Because he chose ME over you?” Each word was punctuated with a sharp, rough thrust in the helpless body in his grip. Naruto’s hand tightened further and completely cut off air supply as he continued to rock fast and hard into the red-head. For his part, Nagato couldn’t even moan, his juices slicking Naruto’s grip on his hardness.



Leaning further, the blond whispered:



“As if he would’ve ever been interested in a street mutt like you.”



Nagato came then, mouth wide open, tear-stained face a mixture of pain and fear and pure lust. The heady sight of it, combined with the rhythmic, helpless tightening around his organ toppled the blond over the edge as well.



He paused for a few moments to catch his breath and wait for his rapidly beating heart to calm a little, then slowly withdrew from the unresponsive body on the ground and looked down at it. Nagato was curled on his side, unmoving, barely breathing. From time to time a shiver ran up his spine but otherwise there was no outward sign that he was conscious. And Naruto knew that he was. He wasn’t even crying though. Such a disappointment. It appeared that he had finally broken his toy.