An Evening's Entertainment

An Evening's Entertainment

Disclaimer: Shikamaru and Gaara are not mine. I wish they were!

A/N: This story was written for a challenge in the 'shikasss' livejournal community.

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Bleak. That pretty much summed up Shikamaru's opinion of the Hidden Village of Sand. Lots of sand. Lots of rocks. Very few trees and lots of scratchy saltbush. Even the sky was different here - a merciless sun beat down on all below, and there was not a single cloud to be seen. It made for stinking hot days and freezing cold nights.

Although he was here on official business, attending a military strategy conference as Konoha's representative, the Hokage had been too stingy to fork out for a hotel room for him. At least, that's how it felt to Shikamaru. Tsunade-sama declared that it would be a diplomatic show of mutual trust for him to stay in the home of the Kazekage, Gaara.

As much as Shikamaru hated to admit it, Gaara still creeped him out. Those kohl-rimmed pale green eyes, the blood red hair, that face that rarely showed expression unless it was hatred. Oh, yes, and the fact that the young leader of the Hidden Village of Sand could kill with less effort than it took to wave goodbye. Sure, there was a peace treaty between the two villages now, but Gaara was still spooky.

This house was spooky. Made of sandstone brick on the outside, the inside was darkly decorated. The floors were tiled in black marble, the windows draped in dark red velvet which were closed during the day to keep the heat out. The electric lights were made to emulate candles in wall sconces, providing pools of light which didn't stretch very far from their source.
He'd been shown to the guest room by a servant. The woman was quiet, almost timid, and wouldn't even look at him. She spoke only to announce softly that they'd reached his room, and if everything was to his liking, she would bother him no more. She drew his attention to a bell on the wall, asking that he ring for her if there was anything he required. Then she disappeared, swiftly on silent feet.

Shikamaru scratched his head, then walked over to the bed and flopped down, pillowing his hands behind his head. He briefly wondered if he ought to take his shoes off in case they soiled the dark red satin of the bedclothes, but the thought escaped his mind as he relaxed into the softness of the mattress. He gazed up at the ceiling, his mind zoning out pleasantly.

"Comfortable?"

The voice startled him, and he swung his legs off the bed and onto the floor, sitting up and ready to spring if necessary. Gaara stood in the doorway of the room, arms folded, expression unreadable. "Gaara!"

"You were expecting someone else?"

Shikamaru forced himself back into a more relaxed pose. "No, you just startled me. My mind was elsewhere and I didn't hear you coming."

"Hn," grunted Gaara, as if this amused him slightly. "No matter. I was going to ask you if you'd like to join me for some... entertainment... this evening?"

Now how could that man make an invitation sound like a threat? Shikamaru was almost tempted to turn down the offer. It would take much less effort to stay in his room and nap than to pretend to enjoy whatever passed for entertainment in the Kazekage's house. Unfortunately, diplomacy required that he accept his host's offer, however troublesome it may be. He got to his feet and followed as Gaara turned and stalked down the corridor. The far end of the corridor had a strong wooden door, which Gaara opened to reveal a curved flight of stairs, dimly lit by wall sconces. Wordlessly, the two men descended them. Shikamaru tried to think of a pretext for conversation, but nothing seemed appropriate. The sight that met his eyes as he stepped off the bottom step behind Gaara made his jaw drop.

The underground room was large and square, and where the first wall had the stairs they had just come down, the other three walls held what appeared to be torture devices! Each piece of equipment was in its own pool of light, cast by not an electric candelabra this time, but a real, wax dripping one.
One wall held a large cross in the shape of an X, with manacles at the each end of both crosspieces. Another wall held a sling with cuffs at the head end and stirrups at the other. The third wall had a pair of stocks, and also a wooden sawhorse.

"What is all this?" Shikamaru breathed, nervously.

Gaara turned to face him, a feral grin lighting up his features. "This is my playroom." He stepped closer to Shikamaru, and before the man could protest, took his face in his hands and kissed him hungrily. Pulling back, he murmured lowly "There is a lot I would like to show you. You will enjoy it." It was stated as a fact, and Shikamaru couldn't disagree. He'd read a couple of novels about bondage and discipline and it intrigued him. The dynamics between slave and master were fascinating and he had privately wondered what it would be like to have his actions, and perhaps feelings, directed by someone else. He never thought, though, that he would have the opportunity to try it.

He looked back at Gaara, who saw the acceptance in his eyes and went over to a chest that sat beneath a rack of whips and chains and things. He rummaged about and came up with a smooth black leather collar with a silver buckle and a silver ring on the front. "Take off your clothes," he commanded.

Shikamaru blushed. "All of them?"

Gaara fixed him with a steely glare. "Just do it." He turned his attention back to the chest and continued to rummage. Shikamaru quickly shed his clothes, dropping them in an untidy pile at his feet. The cool air of the underground dungeon gave him goosebumps, and he folded his arms over his chest, feeling exposed. He was half erect already - how embarrassing.

Gaara shut the chest and returned to Shikamaru, looking over him appraisingly. His expression gave no clues as to whether or not he was pleased with what he saw. He reached up and buckled the collar firmly around Shikamaru's neck - not so tight that he couldn't breathe, but tight enough that he couldn't forget it was there. "You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will address me as 'Master'. You exist for my pleasure, and you will obey me." Gaara paused expectantly.

"Yes, Master." The words felt strange to Shikamaru. He supposed it would feel more natural as the night wore on. Gaara hooked his finger in the ring on the collar and pulled Shikamaru close, kissing him again. Shikamaru let the demanding tongue explore his mouth and wrestle with his in a mock battle of dominance that had already been won. As they kissed, Shikamaru felt fingers brushing his nipples into hardness. Then a twinge of pain in one nipple made him gasp into Gaara's mouth. The same happened with the other, and when Gaara released him from the kiss, he looked down to see small silver clamps attached to his chest. They were heavy, and from each hung a little bell. Gaara flicked one, and it tinkled, the movement of the weight dragging his nipple uncomfortably.

"If you want to stop, you will use the safe-word 'mercy'. Understand that it will end the play for the night. Now," murmured Gaara. "You will undress me, slave."

Shikamaru nodded. "Yes, Master," he said softly. He looked at Gaara, hesitating. Slowly, he reached forward and grasped the hem of Gaara's black t-shirt, drawing it upwards. Gaara raised his hand so it could be pulled over his head. He did the same with the fishnet undershirt. Then Shikamaru knelt in front of Gaara, the bells jingling as he moved. The shorter man loomed over him, not even doing him the courtesy of paying attention to what his slave was doing. His arms were folded over his pale chest, and his fingers drummed an impatient rhythm.
Shikamaru unfastened Gaara's shoes, lifting his feet in turn to remove them, and set them aside. Finally, his pants. Again, he hesitated, and received a backhanded slap to the cheek.

"Get on with it!"

Shikamaru raised a hand to his cheek. "Sorry," he mumbled. Gaara glared at him. The kneeling man ducked his head. "Sorry Master," he amended. The glare softened into a mild scowl. Shikamaru reached for the fastening on the front of his Master's pants. He supposed he'd be lucky not to be punished for that slip, either.

It almost seemed that the sound of the zipper sliding down echoed in the silence of the chamber. That, the pounding of his heart and Gaara's soft breathing were the only sounds. The fabric parted, revealing the dark red silk of the boxer shorts beneath. Shikamaru took the waistbands of both pairs of pants and pulled them down Gaara's legs. He helpfully lifted his feet one at a time so that the clothing could be removed. Shikamaru looked upwards, and found himself level with Gaara's erect cock. He looked up into Gaara's eyes, hoping for further instruction.

Gaara gave a nod. "You may service me."

Swallowing hard, Shikamaru looked back at the penis in front of him. He had never sucked a cock before, nor had it done to him. All his knowledge of the subject came from the books he read. Gaara's hips moved forward, pressing his erection to Shikamaru's lips. Shikamaru lifted a hand to hold it still, and ran his tongue over the tip of it. His hand was pushed away firmly. "Use only your mouth. Put your hands behind your back." He obediently folded his hands behind his back and continued licking, noticing as he did so that the new position thrust his chest forward, and his clamped nipples tingled. He took the head of Gaara's cock into his mouth, feeling proud of the small purr of pleasure his Master let out as he rested a hand on Shikamaru's head, beginning to guide the inexperienced man into a rhythm.

A tilt of Gaara's hips slid him deeper into Shikamaru's mouth, although not all the way just yet. Shikamaru sucked valiantly, exploring around the shaft with his tongue. Gaara's hand tugged gently on his hair, signalling for him to pull back a little. He pulled back, keeping his lips tight around his Master's cock, and then felt Gaara pushing his head back down again. Shikamaru followed the rhythm set for him, finding he could take the cock a little deeper each time he slid his lips down it. Up to a point. Gaara pushed Shikamaru a little more forcefully and it made him gag as Gaara slid all the way in. He struggled to pull back, coughing. Gaara made an exasperated face and released his hair, stepping back.

Shikamaru stretched out a hand to stop him. "No, wait, I can- oops..." His face was the image of a boy who had just broken a window playing ball. A boy who knows he will be punished.

Gaara grabbed his collar ring and hauled him to his feet. "They say that pain is a good teacher," he snarled. "Perhaps I can make you learn to behave properly!" Shikamaru was dragged over to the equipment rack on the wall, where he could only stare in awe at the huge array of whips, floggers, paddles and restraints. Gaara took his time choosing. He fingered several items, looking thoughtful, and finally decided on a medium-sized leather flogger. Shikamaru winced. It was going to hurt.

He was led towards the sawhorse. Gaara gestured to it. "You can hold onto the legs. It will make it easier for you to keep balance." Shikamaru shuffled forward and bent over the wooden rail. It was not very comfortable to lean on. His legs splayed out behind him for balance, and he grasped the front legs of the sawhorse. As he leaned down, the nipple weights flipped to stay pointing downwards, giving a sharp tug to his aching nipples. The blood rushed to his head, and he hoped the punishment would not last long. Pathetic taunted his mind. He hasn't even hit you yet, and already you want it over? Suddenly he felt that he just had to take this punishment well. There was pride in taking a beating without complaining, surely.

*Thwack*, the first blow landed on his right buttock. It stung, and he gasped. *Thwack*, a matching one on his left buttock. The bells on the nipple clamps jingled merrily as each stroke rocked him. As the blows rained down upon his buttocks and upper thighs, Shikamaru found he had to bite his lip to stop from crying out, especially as each stroke was now landing on skin already red and sore from previous ones. Finally, it stopped, just as he was about to cry for mercy. He let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding when he saw the flogger drop to the ground beside Gaara's feet. The feet stepped closer, and he felt hands caressing the burning, beaten skin. Lips softly bestowed a kiss on each buttock, although Shikamaru felt it may as well have been sandpaper, it stang so much. Gaara took him by the shoulders and helped him stand up. The weights flopped back down again, and he whimpered. Gaara unclipped them and set them on the sawhorse, and Shikamaru found that the feeling of the blood rushing back into his nipples was just as painful as wearing the clamps had been.

Gaara's tongue flicked out and licked each tingling nipple in turn. "It will fade," he reassured Shikamaru. "Have you learned your lesson now, slave?"

Shikamaru hung his head. "Yes, Master."

"Good." Gaara reached up and pulled Shikamaru's head down for a deep kiss. "Now," he murmured between kisses, "I'm going to show you that pain can be for more than just punishment."

Shikamaru felt a tightening in his chest at the thought of another beating, and he couldn't possibly imagine how it could be pleasant. But Gaara led him away from the sawhorse and towards the X-shaped frame. He turned his reluctant slave around, with his back to the cross, and chained his arms to the two upper arms of the cross. He then tapped the inside of Shikamaru's thighs to get him to open his legs wide enough to be chained to the bottom of the cross. Gaara stepped back and admired the view. The dark-haired man looked absolutely delicious, naked and spread-eagled against the cross. The look of fearful vulnerability warred with lustful curiousity on his face. Perfect.

Gaara moved close and stroked Shikamaru's now flaccid cock to attention. Shikamaru gasped softly at the contact, closing his eyes. He felt lips close on the side of his neck, kissing and nibbling gently, moving down and along his collarbone. Suddenly, teeth bit sharply at the fleshy part of his shoulder. Before he could make a sound of surprise or pain, however, it was swiftly soothed by a soft tongue, and the kisses and nibbles resumed. They trailed down his chest, and his tender nipples were gently suckled upon, then cool air was blown onto them. Shikamaru shivered with pleasure. Another sharp nip fell between them, and was kissed softly before the lips moved on. Gaara's kisses moved back up to Shikamaru's neck, and he traced a line along the underside of the collar. The kisses were making Shikamaru dizzy with desire.

"Open your eyes," Gaara commanded.

"Yes, Master." Shikamaru obeyed. He saw Gaara reach up to get something from above his head. A candle from the wall sconce. He had to bite his lip to keep from protesting. The safe-word hovered on the edge of his tongue, but he was determined to see this through.

"Now," Gaara said softly, the confidence in his voice reassuring. "I'm going to drip some wax onto you. Shh!" He placed a finger over Shikamaru's lips when the captive man whimpered softly. "It cools quickly. I want you to breathe deeply when you feel the pain is starting to get too much." Shikamaru nodded his understanding, and watched in morbid fascination as the candle tipped, ever so slightly, spilling a dribble of wax that landed on his chest. He hissed through his teeth as it burned him, but then his attention was distracted by Gaara's thumb running firmly over the head of his cock. A wave of pleasure shot though him, and by the time it had passed, the wax no longer burned. He was surprised; it actually wasn't so bad. Another dribble of wax spilled onto his chest, a couple of inches away from the first one. Again, Gaara stroked his cock, diverting his attention. It wasn't long before Shikamaru was craving the hot wax, recognising it as a precursor to the pleasure of being fondled, and he began to arch his chest up to meet the hot liquid.

Eventually Gaara stopped, replacing what was left of the candle in the sconce. "Very good," he whispered, stroking Shikamaru's cock a few extra times, then kissing him again. Shikamaru felt well-rewarded by the praise from his Master. Gaara used a fingernail to peel off the congealed wax from Shikamaru's chest, running his fingers over the red marks left behind. "There's just one more treat in store for tonight." He unfastened the restraints that held Shikamaru to the cross, and waited while his slave shook some feeling back into his arms. He walked over to the sling, not bothering to pull on Shikamaru's collar ring. Shikamaru followed him willingly.

Gaara patted the seat of the sling, and Shikamaru hopped up into it, wincing as his flogged buttocks burned. He laid back and reached his arms up to the cuffs. His Master shook his head with a slight smile. "I think you can behave, don't you? I don't think we'll need those." Shikamaru returned the smile, and pillowed his head on his hands. The sling actually wasn't too uncomfortable, although his buttocks still twinged. He felt his legs being lifted and his feet hooked into the stirrups. He blushed at the intimacy of the position. He was more exposed to Gaara's gaze than he had been yet tonight.

Fingers brushed lightly at his inner thighs and over his scrotum, making him moan softly. The fingers lost contact with his skin for a moment, and Gaara ducked out of view. He reappeared, holding a bottle of lube, which he applied generously to his fingers. Dropping the bottle, he applied his lubed fingers to Shikamaru's entrance, making him gasp at the coldness of the liquid. Gaara spread the lube around a little, then slid a slim finger inside Shikamaru. Shikamaru moaned again and began rocking his hips a little. Gaara added a second finger, a little more slowly, watching his slave's face carefully. When he felt that Shikamaru had adjusted sufficiently, he pushed in a third finger. Shikamaru bit his lip, and took a couple of deep breaths. He was almost painfully stretched. Suddenly, Gaara dipped his head and licked along the underside of Shikamaru's cock. His fingers remained in place, and his slave groaned softly. Slowly, Gaara began to move his fingers in and out. He straightened, and wrapped his free hand around Shikamaru's erection, pumping it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Again, Shikamaru began rocking his hips, pushing back to meet Gaara's hand. His breathing became more ragged as he grew more aroused.

Finally Gaara slipped his fingers from Shikamaru, who sighed at the sudden feeling of emptiness. It didn't last long, however. Gaara found the lube again and slathered a goodly amount onto his own erection. He brought himself to Shikamaru's entrance and pressed himself against it. "You have been a good slave," he said, then pushed forward, sliding all the way in. Both men moaned in unison, and Gaara paused to savour the sensation of being buried inside Shikamaru - so hot, tight and wonderful. He began thrusting, one lube-covered hand holding Shikamaru's hip, and the other holding his cock, which he firmly pumped to the same rhythm. Shikamaru couldn't help crying out with pleasure as Gaara's cock filled him over and again, faster and faster. It was like Gaara was hitting some magic spot inside him, and with every thrust all the way in, a burst of pleasure shot through Shikamaru's lower body.

Gaara could feel Shikamaru tensing, hear the increasing desperation of his cries and the raggedness of his breathing. He wasn't going to last much longer. But Gaara was nearing his own climax as well. "You may come, slave." His words were the final straw for Shikamaru, who came with a delicious shudder and heart-rending cry of ecstasy. The convulsive tightening of Shikamaru's muscles and the sight of the man in the throes of pleasure beneath him did their work, and Gaara came with a soft moan, filling Shikamaru in three short bursts. He slowed to a stop, panting, and looking down at Shikamaru. He shone in the candlelight with sweat, and gave off an aura of intense satisfaction. Gaara leaned over him and kissed his lips tenderly. "I'm glad that the Hokage sent you," he said.

"So am I, Master," murmured a very content Shikamaru.

*** End ***