Becoming Hokage Main story

This is DARK...and I mean DARK! Beware. BakiXHayate and DARK. Perhaps the darkest part of the story. You were warned.

Hayate awoke to pain. He was laying on his stomach, naked, arms bound behind his back with metal laced silken rope, small aches and bruises making themselves a part of his consciousness, and his ass felt like it was on fire or perhaps someone had given him an acid enema. At least that would kill him and end this. However, he knew what caused the agony. Baki.

After five years of being the man’s pet, Hayate was used to the many different moods of his “Master.” Last night, the Sand ninja had come back from yet another failed mission to capture Sasuke for Orochimaru. Four of his men were dead. Someone had to pay and the captive Leaf Clan member was an easy target. With his chakra sealed and ankle firmly chained to the floor besides the large canopy bed, he wasn’t going anywhere or able to fight. And after five years, there was little fight left in Hayate.

Baki took his frustrations out on the man. Savagely thrusting into him without prep or lube, loving the blood and muffled screams. Hayate did what he could to relax, riding out the attack as the years had taught. Unfortunately, this only infuriated Baki.

“I want to hear you, Pet,” he had snarled. “Scream!” And he thrust in viciously. “Show me how much you love this.”

And eventually, Hayate screamed. Howled. Begged for the pain to stop. It had been so bad, for a moment, his old wish for death appeared in reach. But Baki wasn’t going to lose his “Pet.” Not after spending so much time training him. As the blood flowed over the sheets, the thrusts changed angle, striking a terrible spot that turn agony into ecstasy, leading Hayate to beg for something different. Then he begged for release.

Slowly, pain subsided, pleasure overwhelming the young man’s mind and Baki gentled; all his anger gone after the first brutal moments. Hands eased their grip. The animal sounds behind Hayate had changed into more intimate noises which faded away once he was granted the plea for climax.

A sudden, tearing sensation from his rear pulled Hayate from his memories and back into the present. A whimper escaped swollen lips while fresh tears poured from puffy eyes. Two or three fingers were digging into his abused body. Why? Why him? Why did Baki always hurt him and turn around and give him such pleasure? Why couldn’t he just let Hayate die? Why had they used an ancient curse to keep him from doing it himself? He couldn’t even claim own own body as his anymore.

“Shhhh, love,” Baki was soothing as comfortingly as he could. Gentleness was not a natural quality in his existence. For some reason, Hayate’s cries of joy brought him an incredible amount of pleasure, thus he tried to be something no one had ever been with him. Sometimes he was more successful than others. Upon waking and seeing the damage done to the boy’s pale skin and the blood on the sheets, Baki immediately went for salves and bandages. He’d damn near killed his lover last night. “This ointment will deaden the pain and help you heal faster.”

Not that it was much comfort to his poor Pet. Hayate still managed to fight every once in awhile; the spirit which had initially attracted him filled those expressive eyes less and less, bumainmained. A twinge of regret filled the cold killer. What fun would an empty doll be?

However, there was more to it. Hayate was like no other lover. His voice when raised in ecstasy was like the singing of angels. A simple plea from his lips threatened to undo Baki’s control every time. Looking into his lover’s eyes as they became hazy due to need took his breath away. Those dark depths could drown a man. Yet what a glorious death it would be.

It was ridiculous. Silly. Overly romantic. Yet it was indeed how Baki thought of Hayate. In the course of five years, the older man had become addicted. By all rights, he should kill the youth; end it before the ties he wove around Baki became unbreakable. Unfortunately, the Sand ninja knew such a time was long past.

“You need a bath,” he continued attempting gentle ministrations, drawing more whimpers. By the Dunes! What had he been thinking? Hayate would not be able to sit for at least a week. Maybe more. “I’ve ordered some hot water made ready.”

“Please,” Hayate hated that word. “I can’t….I don’t…..the others. Please.” The bathes were public and all too often Baki would take him there to show off his prize possession. At times, just to show off, to put him in his place, they used him. Touched him intimately. Often brutally. A shudder wracked his body as he clearly remembered how his “Master” had allowed all of Orochimaru’s generals to have him and leave him on the floor, unsatisfied and feeling so disgustingly dirty for needing release, for begging his “Master” for it. That had been the first time Hayate ever addressed Baki as such. The memory of how they broke him curled in his mind. Better to have Baki repeat the previous night.

“No one will be there. Only I will see you.” If Orochimaru saw Hayate so weak, he might order Baki to kill him. Neither weakness nor illness were tolerated here. His men were going to keep everyone away or alert him of approaching problems. “Come on.” Quickly the chain was unlocked by Baki’s chi and the ropes untied. “You need to get cleaned up. I won’t have my Pet looking so mistreated.”

The trip to the baths was too slow, yet no one entered the hall and the room was indeed empty when they arrived. Taking the largest inset tub, Baki lowered his lover into the steaming water, got a cloth, and joined him. For the next hour, soft strokes cleaned off his skin. The water relaxed him and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was home, that a real lover was touching him like this. But it wasn’t real. A sob broke into the air.

“Hush,” Baki again seemed sweet. “I know you wish to escape. There is no where to go back to, Pet. After my failure, our Master sent his Blood brat to take care of your village. No warrior will remain alive by this time tomorrow. In a week, nothing except dust will mark its place.”

“No,” Hayate moaned, find the strength to fight to his feet. “You lie. You lie!”

Baki easily forced him down. “Have I ever lied to you?”

Never. Not once. If there was anything Baki hadn’t done to him, it was lie. But that meant….

“No. It has to be a lie. Please tell me it’s a lie!”

Orochimaru’s special killer. A ninja who simply needed to touch a person once and death was instantaneous. No one survived the Blood killer’s touch.

“Hush. It doesn’t matter what happens to your village. You’re mine.” As if that made everything fine.

“No,” Hayate moaned repeatedly. They were all going to die. Everyone he knew. Everyone he loved. All because he’d failed to warn them the night Baki first captured him and then failed to escape in the years after. How could this be happening? Hope was all he had left. “No. No. No.” Soon all he could do was sob the word. There was no escape; this was hell.

“I said silence.” The words were harsh though Baki’s grip was careful, almost comforting. Holding his little Pet so as not to hurt him further, the older man cleaned each and every wound, doing his best to ignore the broken man they graced. It might be far kinder to kill Hayate. If only he could grant that request. Baki shook his head; the Leaf ninja was his and nothing would ever take him. Not even death.