Gaara's Desire

Gaara’s Desire (written for mako75 who wanted a PWP, Neji/Gaara)

Gaara watched as Naruto fucked Sasuke against the dark wall of the apartment building just a few buildings away from the bar where the three of them had been only ten minutes ago.

“Sasuke! Fuck! God, Sasuke, I love you! Jesus fuck, your ass is so tight around me, you’re going to break my dick!” gasped out Naruto as he thrust into his dark-haired lover.

Gaara shut his eyes and turned away. He wouldn’t cry. He didn’t cry. The last time he’d cried was when he’d killed his uncle before the man he’d loved had tried to kill him. When his world had fallen apart. When he’d become cold and emotionless. He’d been a kid, and it had been justifiable manslaughter. It was all hushed up, but everyone had known. And after the “incident,” instead of just hating him, the other kids had feared him as well.

Damn Naruto! No, no, damn Sasuke! But that voice of Naruto, the voice he’d fallen in love with, the first voice that had spoken to him in friendship and understanding in years, that voice had been full of love for Sasuke. Naruto liked Gaara, but he loved Sasuke. And if he killed Sasuke, Naruto would hate him. And he couldn’t go back to being alone, being friendless again.

Somehow, Gaara found himself in the bar again. He looked around for someone he knew, anyone. There! That long haired guy! The one Naruto had beaten up and befriended, Neji--just like he had beaten up Gaara and befriended him. Yes, they were both Naruto’s friends, just his friends. Neji was alone, although there were drinks on the table. Friends, he had other friends. Lucky him. Gaara walked over to Neji’s table and pulled out one of the other chairs, sitting down.

“Don’t sit there, Gaara,” said Neji coldly. Any other night but tonight, that would have been the start of a fight. But since Naruto had declared him a friend, Gaara hadn’t fought anyone. And, tonight, tonight there was no fight in him anymore, none at all. What was the point of living? He’d once thought fighting others was all he was good for. And then Naruto had beaten him—no one had ever beaten him in a fight before. He’d fallen apart, and Naruto had picked up the pieces. He’d lived for Naruto, and now Naruto had chosen Sasuke. Gaara pushed back the chair and began to rise, but he couldn’t. He slid off the chair onto his knees, kneeling with his head down and his hands hanging at his sides. The pain, the pain was just too much.

“Gaara!”

He opened his eyes, confused. A white hand was under his chin, and he was looking up into the odd pale grey eyes of Neji. A Neji that looked sort of watery and wavy.

“Come closer, Gaara,” said Neji, his hand sliding down to the heavy metal chain around Gaara’s neck. It was a present from Naruto—he’d bought it for him when they’d gone clothes shopping together. Naruto had wanted an outfit that would make him look “fucking hot.” He’d wiggled into and out of outfits that had Gaara’s cock painfully hard. Naruto, clueless, had thought his look of pain was due to hating shopping. There was no way Gaara could explain it. The blonde had given Gaara the chain to make it up to him. And he’d worn that fucking hot outfit tonight to seduce Sasuke.

Lost in his memories, Gaara let Neji tug him forward out of the narrow area between tables in the bar until he was under the edge of Neji’s table, in front of his knees. His hand released the necklace, and Gaara’s eyes, which were looking down, shut, and his head fell down, hitting Neji’s knee. The feel of the soft leather under his face startled Gaara, and he thought to himself bitterly that this was what Naruto had reduced him to, a loser kneeling in a bar on the floor, about to be kicked in the face no doubt. Neji was a good fighter—he’d almost beaten Naruto. But Gaara knew he could take him. He wouldn’t though. If Neji wanted to beat him into a pulp, into unconsciousness, into death, he could.

“You can do what you want to me,” said Gaara, waiting for that deadly white hand to fist and punch him, for the feel of his hair being pulled out of his skull, for pain, any pain, to make him forget the sight and sound of Naruto loving Sasuke.

And there it was, the hand in the hair, jerking his head up. Gaara didn’t even open his eyes. “Repeat that,” he heard Neji order.

“You can do what you want to me,” said Gaara. “Take me—“ no he couldn’t say the last word, outside, for that was what Sasuke had said to Naruto—take me outside. Naruto, oh, Naruto, why him? He treats you like dirt!

“Anything?” he heard Neji’s voice, surprising him before he remembered he was waiting for Neji to beat him up.

“Yes, do it, I won’t fight, I want you to, I want it to hurt, so I can’t think of anything but you pounding me,” said Gaara. Yes, pound me with those fists—make me pass out, take away the hurt inside, he said in his mind.

“Take that necklace off,” ordered Neji.

Take off Naruto’s gift! Gaara shuddered, but he put his hands up and undid the necklace. Yes, why should he treasure it? Naruto wanted Sasuke, loved Sasuke. Besides if he was going to let Neji beat him up, it seemed right that he should do it without this chain, the chain that in the last three weeks had been his greatest treasure. He’d practically spent the whole time stroking it, touching it, taking pleasure in it as he dreamed of kissing Naruto, loving him.

“Give it to me,” came the order.

He couldn’t look Neji in the face—he raised his eyes only far enough to place the necklace in his hand. Now, now it would come. Why this waiting? “Please, Neji,” he whispered.

“Lift your head up, Gaara, and look at me,” said Neji in a voice that commanded. Gaara raised up his head, staring into those pale grey eyes. They were fierce, and there was a triumphant sneering look, but somehow it was different from Neji’s usual sneer. He was excited, Gaara observed in a detached way, more passionate. His cheeks looked a little flushed, and his eyes glittery. Good! He wants to do it, he’s excited and already looking forward to seeing my crimson blood flowing. Yes, I remember that feeling.

“I’m going to make you suffer, make you crawl, make you scream, make you beg, Gaara,” said Neji in a voice so full of promise that Gaara shivered. Yes, yes, soon he would be in pain, pain that would make all this internal hurt go away. He couldn’t kill himself or hurt himself—that would be too easy, that would be doing what his mother, the bitch, had done. But all his life, he’d wanted to die, to just give up, to give in, to let blackness swallow him. Because no one, no one had ever been able to make the pain inside him go away, well, no one but Naruto—oh, god, no, he couldn’t think of that. Gaara’s head fell down, the feeling of emotional pain so sharp he felt sick. He scooted back a little and curled down, bent over, not caring his head was on the floor. He was going to puke.

Neji laughed. Good, good—he’d laughed that way when he’d begun a fight he knew would be a good one, when he could already taste the blood of his opponent, feel the way their skin would give under his fists. Neji was going to beat him senseless. What had he said, I’m going to make you suffer, scream, beg? Yes, yes, make me scream, Neji, do it, thought Gaara, please do it.

Those fingers fisted in his hair again, pulling sharply, a welcome pain. But then Gaara’s eyes flew open—something weird, something strange was brushing against his face. Oh, god, those eyes, those strange pale eyes—so intense, burning, smoldering with emotion. Like Naruto’s eyes when he was excited, but, no, Naruto’s clear blue eyes were easy to read. They showed you exactly what the blonde was thinking—Neji’s eyes weren’t like that. The emotions in them were strong but opaque, unreadable. And his hair, his hair was brushing against Gaara’s face, his neck, his shoulders. It bothered him—no one got this close to him except for when he was fighting—not even Naruto. Naruto had never breathed on his ear and whispered into it.

“You saw him, you saw him fucking that snotty little Uchiha, telling him he loved him, didn’t you?” Gaara heard a little whimper—no, that wasn’t him, couldn’t have been him. He shut his eyes again. The hair, the hair—it felt strange. The whispering voice continued, “I’m going to put my belt in your hand. You can drop it on the floor, and I’ll walk out of here and leave you alone. Or you can put it around your neck and hand me the end, and Gaara dies. You become mine, mine to play with till you die. You don’t ever speak to him, look at him, speak to any man, look at any man but me unless I order you to. You call me Master, and you thank me no matter what I do to you.”

Ah, Neji liked to play, yes, Gaara understood. It wasn’t fun when the man you were hurting passed out too soon. It left you empty. Yes, Neji, Neji would torture him, hurt him, until he begged for death, until he was no longer fun to play with, and then he would do it. Yes, yes, and Naruto would be free to be happy, free to be with Sasuke, free because Gaara was gone, dead. Gaara had to die, or he would kill Sasuke—he wouldn’t be able to hold back the next time the Uchiha hurt Naruto, hurt him like he always did.

The black studded leather belt was there in front of him. Gaara slid the end of the leather through the buckle, putting the loop over his head. A jerk, and it slid tight around his neck. He held out the end to Neji, looking up into those pale grey eyes. “Master,” he said. Neji laughed again, pulling on the end of the belt.

He stood up, saying, “Get up and follow behind me.” Gaara rose and stumbled as Neji set off across the room at a rapid pace. Yes, thought Gaara, now it comes. Not in here, no, somewhere else, somewhere where he could scream, could please this new Master with his cries of pain. But Neji only dragged him to Naruto’s car. He tossed the necklace on the hood. “Take off that shirt and throw it on top of the necklace,” he demanded.

“Yes, Master,” said Gaara. Yes, it was fitting. He needed to give back to Naruto the shirt, the necklace, the things Naruto had picked out for his friend. Gaara wouldn’t be that friend anymore. Gaara was a dead man walking.

“Piss on them,” ordered Neji.

Piss on them? What? Confused Gaara turned and stared directly down into Neji’s face. The jerk on the belt tightened the leather around his neck painfully, and the slap across his face surprisingly hurt almost as much as the punch of a weak person. Pain—god, yes—pain—his nerves on fire, his throat struggling to breath, yes, yes, this was what he wanted. He deserved to die this way—in pain, suffering, that was the way he had sent many others to the edge of death during his violent teenage years. Neji jerked the belt down, sending him to his knees and causing another wave of pain up from where his legs and knees had hit the asphalt.

“When I give you order, you obey it,” said Neji coldly. “When I get you home, I’m going to pound that into you.”

Home?! Yes, not here, not in front of Naruto’s car. Oh, and yes, if Naruto was worried about him, he wouldn’t stop his efforts to find him. He’d even make Sasuke help. No, they couldn’t see him being beaten—because he might not be able to not fight back then. Neji, Neji had figured all this out. Naruto was right, Neji was smarter than all of them. Another slap—oh yes! Yes, yes, make me forget, make me hurt, Neji!

“Thank you, Master, thank you!” His voice sound strange, from the belt no doubt. He reached down and undid his jeans, pulling the zipper down, pulling out his cock. “I’m ready to obey, Master,” he said, raising his eyes to look up at Neji.

What? What was that look on Neji’s face? It was just there for an instant and gone, but it was different, important.

“Do it,” said Neji, his voice sounding different too from before, from any time he’d heard—oh, yes, obey now, the jerk on the belt told him. He rose up and urinated, hitting the shirt, the windshield, the entire width of the car hood. The tingle in his face, his neck, his knees and lower legs felt good, and the cool night air on his bare chest added to the pleasure. Yes, yes, he was alive, this body was alive, it was Neji’s, and Neji was going to give him more of this feeling, make him forget Naruto, forget everything but his body and Neji. What had that face meant? He had made it when Gaara had thanked him, and not thinking deeply about it, Gaara shook the last few drops of urine off of his cock, turned and sunk to his knees before Neji. He stared up and said, “Thank you, Master!”

There! That was the look! It was going away—no! “Master! Please—“ What? How do I ask for a look? Now, he looks angry, very angry.

“Please what?” demanded Neji, his voice sounding as cold and angry as his face.

Gaara tried to explain what he didn’t even understand, “When I thanked you, Master, you looked at me both times, you looked at me differently. I wanted to see that look again, and . . .” Neji’s face was changing again—his lips curved into a smile and he looked—joyous? No, it was changing more, smug, yes, smug was how he looked now.

“If you want to see that look again, my pet, you need to show me that you like obeying me, that you want to please me,” said Neji, leaning down, the fingers of the hand not on the belt going to Gaara’s nipple and pinching hard.

“Master!” cried out Gaara, startled. Oh, god, god, it hurt, it hurt more than he had imagined such a meaningless stupid part of his body could hurt. Oh, this was his reward! “Thank you, Master, thank you!” Oh, god, his nipple, his nipple! And that look, that look on Neji’s face! “Thank you, Master, thank you!” Ah, god, yes! There was nothing in the world but his nipple, Neji’s face, and that sweet burst of pain rippling through his body. Oh, god, yes!

The fingers on his nipple twisted, and Gaara felt a cry come up out of him. Master—oh, yes, a Master, a Master of pain. The fingers shifted, and a bit of nail dug into Gaara’s nipple, making the pain intensify to the point that Gaara’s body shook—oh, oh, the shaking made it worse! “Master! Master!” Master’s face, oh, Master’s face, oh his nipple, the feeling, the feeling—and the fingers let go, and somehow that was even more painful, the feeling so good, so intense! He whimpered, shocking himself, and then he could talk, “Master, thank you, Master!”

Neji laughed, but it wasn’t his normal laugh. Was it just the aftershock of pain rippling through his body that made it sound sweeter? Happier?

“Keep your pants open like that, keep yourself hard like that, or I’ll chain you up and leave you alone until morning,” said Neji.

Gaara’s hand flew to his cock, and his mouth feel open in shock. He was hard! When had that happened? Ow! Oh shit, Master Neji was walking to his car, and he needed to scramble to his feet or he’d be dragged across the parking lot, cock down. Crawling and scuffling, Gaara struggled to rise. Then just as he made it to his feet, they were at Neji’s car. The front passenger’s door was open, and he was inside on the leather car seats, aware of Neji’s car in a way he hadn’t been of any other. The seats against his bare back were cool and made of soft leather, leather like the belt around his neck, like Neji’s pants. The seat belt lay over his nipple, the one Master had pinched, its thick fabric rough and making more ripples of sensation go through his body.

And his cock, he needed to keep it hard, or he’d be left chained alone—no! His father, long long ago in his childhood had locked him in his room alone for days. It had been—no—no, he was getting soft thinking of that, he had to focus on being hard. Hard, like Naruto and Sasuke had been—oh, god, was Neji going to fuck him? This was about being beaten, wasn’t it? Yes, he was going to have the lesson to obey Neji pounded into him—oh, god, could he have thought Gaara wanted pounded with his cock, not his fists? Pounded like Sasuke was pounded by Naruto? But, he would have to be hard to do that, have to want to do that, have to be excited—did he want to do that? Not even Naruto, his only friend, wanted to do that! Neji didn’t even like him!

But, but, maybe he did? Gaara found himself breathing heavily as if he had been running a long time—and oh, god, it was making his chest move under the seatbelt, making it move and rub over his nipple, making it feel so good. Oh, god, Master’s hand—for somehow when he remembered that hand pinching him, he could only think in terms of Master—yes, Master’s hand had made him feel so good, oh, god, it had made him hard, and if he stayed like this, he would feel more, oh, god, so much more. Gaara shivered, and that made the seatbelt rub his nipple again, making him shudder and pant a little more, and his cock give a sudden violent twitch in his hand.

“You liked your nipple being pinched, pet, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Master, yes, thank you, Master,” gasped out Gaara, squirming and panting, looking over at Neji. The car stopped at a light, and Neji turned his face and looked directly at Gaara—that look, oh, god, that look! He couldn’t get enough of that! Gaara moaned and shook, and his hand gripped his cock again. Neji licked his lips, and Gaara bit his as his back arched a little and his hips thrust up, moving on their own. And the look then on Neji’s face—oh, god! A whimper came out of Gaara’s throat, and his body responded again—

“You’re getting wet for me,” said Neji in a voice that made Gaara shudder even more violently. Neji looked away, and the car started moving. Gaara looked down at his body. There were goose bumps on his arms, and his nipples were swollen and redder than the bit of hair across his chest and around his cock—his completely hard, red, and oozing cock. He was in a car with his pants open, and an erection that throbbed. As he watched, another drop of precum emerged out of his urethra. His thumb moved and smeared it over the head of his cock.

“Yes, Master, my cock is wet for you,” Gaara said, and those dirty words, those shocking words, made him shiver again. He’d never been hard in the presence of anyone but Naruto before, but that, that hadn’t been like this. He had been able to breath normally, to walk, to focus—oh, god! His nipple, god, his nipple! Why had he never even noticed that part of his body before? Would Neji pinch it again, twist it, let him feel the edge of his nail? Oh, god, he hoped so--nothing, nothing had felt like that!

“Don’t come, pet,” said Neji. “If you come, I won’t play with your nipples.”

“Master! I won’t come, Master,” said Gaara. Of course, he wouldn’t come! To get himself to come, he had to stroke himself for a long time. Only then would he feel that tightness in his balls, that sensitivity, see the precum flowing out—oh, god, like it was now. He could come, yes, it would be easy. But Master said no; Gaara let go of his cock and put his hands flat on his thighs. But they wouldn’t lie still, and his fingers clawed at the denim. He tried to focus on something else besides his cock, his balls. His nipples—and Gaara’s back arched again, and he bit his lip hard as his balls tightened. No, no, focus on the lip, on the slight soreness to his face from Neji’s slap, on his knees, on his toes—god, why were his toes curling in his shoes? Why was his foot trying to arch, his toes digging at the soles, trying to curl back to the soles of his feet? Why was he breathing so hard? And his throat, that belt tight around it, pressing on it—was that why he was making those noises that he’d never remembered making before?

“Just a little longer pet, we’re almost there. Now be good and stay hard for me.”

“Yes, Master,” whispered Gaara, stunned at the feeling in his body. His shoulders dropped, and his fingers and toes unclenched, and his cock gave a violent twitch as if was nodding yes to Master. But he was breathing easier, calmer. He was just like that dog of Kiba’s, yes that was the name of Naruto’s friend. He had whined, and his master had reassured him. He’d watched Kiba—and the brunette had never forgotten that dog. It went everywhere with him, and even when he was laughing and talking with Naruto, a part of his attention was on that dog. Was that what Neji planned for him? Would he always be with him—if he obeyed? He’d threatened to lock him up alone, to not touch him—was that his future? Neglect, solitude, loneliness for disobedience, and Master’s attention, Master’s gaze, Master’s touch for obedience? Was that what being a pet meant?

“Get out, shut the door, and kneel down. I’ll be right back, pet,” said Neji.

“Yes, Master,” said Gaara, startled to see the car was inside a two-car garage. He watched Neji’s back—the sway of his long black hair, hair down to just above his ass--a tight, hot, sexy ass in black leather. Neji disappeared through a door into the house, and Gaara knelt down by the car, thoughts racing wildly through his head. What was Neji doing? Was he going to come back like he said? Was he going to fuck him? Would he force his cock up Gaara’s ass? And his ass contracted, tightening.

Oh, god, his ass—it was tightening and releasing, now in time with his breathing. He could feel his asshole closing and opening as his chest rose and fell. Why? Why was it acting like that? He’d never been conscious of his ass before unless he was taking a shit. What was Neji doing to him? First his nipples, now his ass, and—god, Neji was hot! Gaara shivered and whimpered, looking up as Neji moved towards him, shirtless, his black hair looking shockingly long and dark against his chest—a chest that was more built than those loose shirts he normally wore suggested. And that bit of dark hair there—sexy, very sexy. The black leather pants—was he erect? Was that bulge an erection? Erect for him, wanting him? But, but, no one wanted him! No one but Naruto even liked him!

But then Neji was there in front of him, and Gaara stared up at his face, trying to figure out if this man, his Master, wanted him. Neji’s hand pulled the belt around Gaara’s neck loose, and Gaara whimpered, shocked at the pain exploding in him. Master was going to set him free, get rid of him—

“Hold the belt, pet, and let me put my collar on you,” said Neji.

“Thank you, Master! Thank you!” Gaara bent his head, trying to kiss Neji’s hands, not really thinking, just letting the relief sweeping through him move his head, his lips.

Neji laughed, that softer, happier laugh, then ordered, “Head up, pet, stay still.”

“Yes, Master.” And then that long hair was tickling his face again, like it had when Neji had whispered in his ear. It felt good, so good. And the collar, it felt good—snug, not tight, thick, smooth, something he was conscious of, could feel, making him aware of his neck, aware of being Neji’s pet.

“Ah, so pretty, pet,” said Neji.

Pretty? He was pretty? “Thank you, Master,” said Gaara, his voice full of his shock and doubt.

And Neji’s hands were running over his face, over his hair, his neck. His index finger stroked over an eyebrow, his thumb rubbed over Gaara’s lip, and Gaara couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The hands lifted, and Gaara didn’t move, couldn’t move. He felt a slight tugging on his collar and heard a click.

“Yes, you look pretty in my collar and on my leash, pet,” said Neji. “And since you kept so hard for me, I’m going to reward you.”

“Thank you, Master, thank you,” said Gaara, finding his voice. He would obey, he would be good; he didn’t want to spend the night alone.

Neji reached into the pocket of those leather jeans, pulling out something that Gaara didn’t know what it was. But then Neji’s fingers were on his nipple—oh, yes! “Thank you, Master, thank you!” Oh, oh, god, it was some sort of clamp, something that pinched his nipple, pinched it hard. And now, Neji was touching the sore nipple, clamping that one too. Gaara cried out, shaking from his ass to his head, a hard deep shudder that he felt run up his spine. His hands flew up to his nipples feeling the metal things hanging there—he cried out again, his ass contracting, his body shivered, making the metal jiggle.

“Stand up, pet,” ordered Neji with a tug on his leash.

“Yes, Master,” gasped out Gaara, trying to ignore the feelings rocking his body, knowing he needed to keep obeying. It seemed so hard to stand up.

“Turn around and give me your wrists,” ordered Neji.

Gaara obeyed, a mewl coming out of his throat before he managed to say, “Yes, Master, thank you.”

Oh, god, when he breathed, the metal moved and shook—oh, god, the pain, the pain, so good, so good, his cock was dripping again, his balls tingling, his ass contracting. He couldn’t come, couldn’t come. What, what was Neji doing to his wrists? Leather cuffs, wide leather around each wrist—and the sound of a lock snapping shut. He let out a cry and pulled his wrist apart—they were chained behind him! He wouldn’t be able to fight back, to take these things off his nipples; he couldn’t do anything. The leather belt Neji had told him to hold slid out of his hands.

“I told you to hold that, pet, not to drop it on the floor. Pick it up, now!”

Gaara let out another little cry at the harshness in Neji’s voice. “I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry!” He sank down, bending back, trying to find and pick up the belt with his cuffed hands. It was awkward, and the movement made the clamps move on his nipples. Pain, god, pain, so painful, so intense, so much, too much! His fingers groped desperately for the belt. “I have it, Master! I’m sorry, Master! Please don’t be angry!”

“Follow me, you disobedient thing,” said that same harsh, angry-sounding voice.

Gaara winced as the leash tugged at him before he could completely stand up, whimpering at the way the clamps moved on his nipples, the painful sensations racing through him, his ass contracting again, his cock jerking too. He started at Neji’s hair, Neji’s ass, focusing on moving his body, keeping up.

“Bend over the table,” ordered the harsh voice.

“I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry,” said Gaara, his voice wavering. He wouldn’t cry. He didn’t cry. Gaara—no, wait he wasn’t Gaara anymore, he was Master’s pet, and Master’s pet could cry. A sob ripped up out of his throat, shocking him, and he leaned down over a wooden table.

He felt Neji jerk down his pants, his underwear, so it was down around his knees. For a second he thought that Neji might spread his asscheeks and fuck him, but then he heard the crack of the leather belt and felt an explosion of pain across his ass. Yes, yes, this was how Master would use him, would punish him, would pound him. The pain emptied his mind, and he cried out, “Thank you, Master!”

Then another slash across his ass—lower, and his ass clenched wildly, the nipple clamps making noise as his body jerked on the table. Another sob came out, and his voice as he thanked Master wavered. The belt descended again, and Gaara began to cry.

“Thank me, or you’ll get five more,” said that harsh voice.

“Thank you, Master,” choked out Gaara, sobbing. And then to his shock, he felt one hand pulling up his ass, and the other reaching under him, touching his cock, no, stroking it, making it stiffen fully again. “Master! Master!” he cried out, his tears stopping, forgotten as he tried to make sense of this. “Thank you!” he cried out, confused. The hand on his cock tightened and twisted, then jerked up, and it felt so good, a wordless cry burst from his throat. The nipple clamps moved, but somehow the pain there had turned to pleasure, to a warmth, a sweet burn. And then the hand was gone, and the belt crashed down again.

“Master, thank you!” he sung out even as the belt was still against his ass. His asshole was going wild, fluttering. His cock was leaping, and the movement of the clamps sent a wave of pleasure through him. He pushed his ass up, wanting to feel the belt again, to feel that shocking mix of pain and pleasure rip through him. His face was still a little wet with from his tears, and he panted. The struggle to pull the air into his lungs, made his throat push against the collar around his neck, reminding him that he was a pet, a pet in a collar, a pet being punished by his Master.

The belt came down, and that pain-pleasure made his body go wild. “Master, thank you!” he cried, his voice loud and eager. Neji growled, and there was a clatter. Gaara’s eyes flew open, and he saw the belt lying on some tile at the foot of a cabinet. They were in a kitchen; and he was bent over the kitchen table, his hands cuffed behind him, his nipples clamped, his neck in a collar, his pants around his knees, his ass beaten and in the air. What would Master do to him now?

Hands jerked his hips back, his eyes shut, and Gaara cried out, “Master!” Hands pulled apart his asscheeks, and then something wet, something big pushed against his asshole, then shoved in. Gaara screamed—the shock, the pain, the stretch—his asshole was spread wide around Neji’s cock! “Master! Master!” he cried out, “Master you’re fucking me!” Never, never had he thought he’d feel this! He’d always expected to push into someone, someone happy not to look at him, struggling to get hard.

“Yes, pet, I’m going to fuck you, fuck you like a good pet deserves, hard and deep. That’s just the head of my cock in you.”

Gaara cried out, thrashing, shaking, his body out of control. He was going to come—ow! Neji’s hand was tight, squeezing the base of his cock hard, and he sobbed, “Master! Master!”

“Don’t come yet, pet. Hold it for me,” said Neji’s voice, ragged and breathy.

Gaara’s body went wild again as he realized Neji’s voice had been harsh, not with anger, but with desire. Neji’s other hand slapped down on Gaara’s ass, then pinched one of the welts from the belt, hard, painfully. Gaara gasped, control coming back now, “Yes, Master, yes, I’ll hold it for you. Thank you, Master, thank you!”

“Good pet, so good, so tight! Stay still for me, pet.” There was more wetness, the brush of Neji’s fingers on his anus, where his cock was partially inside him. Then Neji pushed in deeper, and Gaara struggled to stay still. “Master! You’re hard, you’re big! Thank you!”

Neji groaned, and Gaara couldn’t believe it. Neji, snobby, sneering Neji, perfect, smart, talented Neji, was hard for him, groaning with pleasure, with desire, for him! Gaara pushed down and back, forgetting the order to stay still, wanting to make Neji groan again.

“Pet! Oh, god, pet!” moaned Neji.

Dear god! That voice, he’d made Neji sound like that! He felt a tickling on his back, on his hands resting on his back—Neji’s hair, soft and silky. And his cock, his big cock was deeper inside, inside Gaara, claiming Gaara, loving Gaara. He clamped his ass muscles down and pulled in, trying to suck that cock in deeper.

Neji cried out, and the hair danced over his hands and back, the hands on his hips clenching.

“Master, thank you! Please, Master, fuck me!”

Neji let out a sound like an animal, shoving in, hitting something in Gaara that made him scream in pleasure.

“You like that, bitch?”

“Yes, Master, Yes! Yes!”

Neji pulled back and thrust again, and Gaara cried out, lost in pleasure, forgetting everything but how good it felt. Neji’s hands tightened on his hips, and he jerked back and slammed forward, making Gaara scream again. And then he did it again, again, again, until Gaara was losing his mind, screaming, twisting, shaking, the pleasure jolting through him until he knew he was going to come, going to come hard, even with nothing touching his cock.

“I’m going to come, Master!” he screamed, “I can’t stop it!”

“Come for me, bitch, come with my cock in your tight ass--oh, god!”

Neji’s voice turned into a moan of pleasure as Gaara tightened around him, coming, screaming out, “Neji!” Gaara struggled against the cuffs, pulling, his body thrashing on the table, the clamps rattling against the wood, his legs shaking, coming hard and heavy. Nothing had ever felt so good, and when at last he was completely spent, Gaara’s weight fell down dead on the table, his feet sliding back. Neji’s hands held his ass up, and his cock was still buried inside Gaara, deep, so deep.

Gaara’s hands suddenly slid off his back, falling down, released although he could feel the leather cuffs still around his wrists. He panted, unable to talk, unable to think enough to speak. Neji jerked out of him, and he gasped and made a little cry even as he struggled to breathe. He was flipped over, pushed back on the table so he was lying on his back, his legs hanging down, with his jeans and underwear down around his knees. But Neji was taking off his shoes, then the socks, stripping him naked, until he had on nothing but the collar around his neck, the cuffs on his wrists, and the clamps on his nipples. He managed to open his eyes when he heard Neji give a soft curse. He was struggling out of his leather pants, his cock jutting out, sheathed in a condom, glistening with the lube he’d used to prevent Gaara from tearing when he entered him without any stretching.

Neji, the Neji that was always calm, cool, superior, was sweaty and clumsy, ripping off the pants, now striding over to the table, so hard, wanting him so much, he didn’t seem to care that Gaara was seeing him panting, messy, with his desire naked on his face. Neji grabbed the lube off of a chair, and Gaara shrugged up on his elbows, needing to watch, needing to see this. Neji, Neji, hard for him, wanting him. Neji covered his condom-encased cock with lube and threw the tube on the floor with that growl that made Gaara shiver and moan. Oh, oh, god, the welts from the belt moved on the table, the nipple clamps shifted, and Gaara’s cock stiffened, rising up.

Neji snarled, jerking his legs up and apart, thrusting in hard. Gaara screamed and arched on the table, shouting, “Master! Master!”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You!”

“Who is the only one you can look at?”

“You, Master, you!”

And then Neji’s eyes shut, his mouth opened, as he thrust in, and he moaned, his back arching. He pulled back, his head dropping down to look at Gaara before he thrust in again, crying out incoherently, his head flying back again. Gaara tightened his ass around Neji, pulling in, and watched amazed as Neji’s body shook and he cried out incoherently. When Neji recovered enough to look at Gaara as he pulled out, he looked dazed, lost, and Gaara tightened around him as he thrust in, pulling him in, his legs wrapping around Neji’s ass, forcing his cock in as far as it could go. It felt so good, this time he cried out with Neji, equally incoherent.

Then they moved together, repeating the movements that had led to that jolt of pleasure that made them cry out simultaneously. They moaned and shouted together, like one being. Neji looked drugged, high, and beautiful, achingly beautiful to Gaara. Why, he wondered with some part of his body even as Neji fucked him, did that beautiful face sneer so often? Why did he make those ugly faces all the time when he could look like this? God, what would he look like when he came? Gaara had to see, needed to see it, needed to know he could make Neji come.

“Please, Master, come in me, spray inside of me, Master! I want you to come in me, I need you to, please, Master, please! I want to see your beautiful face as you come with your cock buried deep in your pet’s ass!”

“Gaara! Gaara!” His name! Neji was crying out his name as he came, his face, oh god, his face, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and all for him, all because of him. Gaara cried out, arching, tightening, coming again, the come flying up in the air, spraying them both, making them cry out together, wordlessly telling each other of their pleasure. When Gaara could open his eyes again, there was cum on Neji’s face, in Neji’s hair, and that made Gaara cry out and arch up, a last little bit of cum oozing out of his cock, dribbling down the side of it. Neji, panting, leaned over him. He lifted one hand to his cheek, smearing the cum on his face with his fingers, moving those fingers to his mouth, sucking them in.

“Master!” cried Gaara, finding his voice.

“You taste good, pet,” said Neji, his voice a soft caress.

“Master!”

Neji leaned over and removed one of the nipple clamps, making Gaara scream as his nipple suddenly adjusted to its freedom. But then Neji was kissing it, licking it, his hair sliding around Gaara’s body. When he removed the other, Gaara was ready enough to cry out, “Thank you, Master! Thank you!”

Neji rose up and smiled at Gaara, a smile so intimate, so loving, Gaara couldn’t breathe again. Neji pulled out of Gaara, moving over to the tall kitchen trash can, pulling off his condom. Then he was at the refrigerator, pulling out a cold bottle of water, drinking it down. He walked back to Gaara, smiling down at him again, making Gaara whimper.

“Do you want some water, pet?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tilt your head up a bit and open your mouth,” said Neji. Gaara did it, waiting for Neji to put the bottle to his lips, but he took a mouthful of water and bent his head. The water spilled from Neji’s mouth into Gaara’s as that long hair hung around his face, on his shoulder, and the scent of Neji filled Gaara’s nose.

“Thank you, Master.”

“More?”

“Yes, please, Master.”

And again, his lips, the water, the hair, that scent. He stared into Neji’s grey eyes as he took the water into his mouth, swallowed. Neji’s face moved back just a bit, and suddenly Gaara flung an arm up, jerking Neji’s head back down, kissing him, pressing his lips against those soft ones. His first kiss. Perfect.

The bottle made a thud as it hit the floor. Neji was on the table, his hand in Gaara’s hair, pulling his head, his lips pressing down on Gaara’s, and his tongue pushing, pressing. Gaara lips fell apart, opening, confused, expecting water to spill from Neji’s mouth. But that tongue pressed in, invading, penetrating, tasting, thrusting. Gaara whimpered in his throat, feeling his neck press against the collar, that hair all around him, and Neji, Neji inside his mouth. This kiss went on and on, and when at last Neji raised his head, Gaara could only stare into those beautiful grey eyes. That was a kiss. A lover’s kiss. That French kiss thing. Neji’s kiss. He whimpered again, blinking, confused.

“Pet! Can you hear me? Answer me!”

“Master,” moaned Gaara. And there was that smile, that beautiful smile, his smile, the smile only for him.

Neji moved over to the sink, running water that made a sound that seemed loud in the kitchen as it splashed in the metal basin. Gaara blinked, suddenly aware of the sensations in his body now that Neji wasn’t kissing him. His ass contracted, feeling strange and loose, stretched open even though it now was empty. His asscheeks burned as did his nipples. His lips felt odd, almost swollen, and his tongue strange. But he’d never felt better, more satisfied. “Thank you, Master,” he said, his head turned to look at Neji.

“Feeling good, pet?” asked Neji, coming back to him with a wet cloth in his hand.

“Oh yes, Master, really, really good!”

“Ahhh,” said Neji, looking smug again. He didn’t look as good that way, but Gaara didn’t mind. Let him look at others like that, sneer at them, he told himself, adding smugly in his mind, I remember how he looked when he came in me.

But then Neji began wiping him with the cloth, and its roughness made him arch up and cry out. He scubbed over Gaara’s nipples, making him whimper, and finally beg, “Please, Master, please, please.” The cloth moved on, tormenting and soothing, until Gaara was crying and squirming, and his cock rock hard and twitching.

“Come, pet, stand up,” ordered Neji, pulling on the leash that had hung forgotten from his collar all this time.

Gaara slid off the table, and his legs gave out, and he fell down on his knees.

“You can crawl, pet, since you’ve been so good,” said Neji, tugging gently.

“Yes, Master,” gasped Gaara, moving after him on his hands and knees. There was that ass again in front of him—naked. It looked even better naked, sexier, and Gaara’s cock twitched, and he moaned, shivering and twitching and tingling, but crawling after Master until he stopped. The leash tugged, pulling his head up, and then Neji unhooked it. He heard an odd clanking and brought his head forward to see Neji pulling a chain towards him with a padlock on the end of it. The chain was hooked to the wall above a huge bed. Neji reached over to the table by the giant bed, lifting a key on a string. The padlock was undone, and then with a loud click, it locked the chain to Gaara’s collar. Neji moved away with the key, somewhere behind him. Then he was back, using the chain to pull Gaara’s head up to look at him.

“You’ll sleep on the floor here, chained every night. I’ll let you go to the bathroom and wash up first, but that’s it until morning. If you pee on the floor, you will be severely punished, pet. When I want to fuck that cute ass of yours, you’ll get on the bed. You get on the bed when I want you to suck my cock or lick my balls or asshole. Do you understand, pet?”

“Ye-es, Master.” The chain clanked as he nodded his head.

“When was the last time you had sex before tonight?”

“I—I’ve never had sex before, Master.”

“Never? Then when did you last fool around, last kiss someone?”

“I, never, Master, you are the first person besides Naruto to not fear me, to touch me.”

“Can I fuck you bare?”

“What? Master, you can always fuck me, I’m your pet.”

“Without a condom, can I put this cock inside you without a condom? I swear it’s clean.”

Without a condom, so he could feel Neji’s cum, feel it spill into him? Gaara’s body shuddered with desire, and he moaned, “Please, Master, please. I want to feel your cum inside me, wet, hot, filling me.”

Neji growled, that growl that Gaara now knew meant he was close to losing his cool, close to letting his passion have free reign. “Get on my bed, pet, where you belong, on all fours.”

Where you belong, where I belong, thought Gaara as he scrambled on the bed. Yes, yes, this is where I belong. It seemed right, seemed perfect. He looked over at Neji, slicking his cock, and said in a pleading voice, “Master, please hurry, please, fuck me.”

Neji snarled, throwing down the lube on the floor. The phone rang, and Neji ignored it, climbing on the bed, moving behind Gaara, shifting his legs, ordering Gaara to lower his head to the bed. Gaara whimpered, and Neji’s hand slapped down on his buttcheek, hitting one of the welts made by the belt, making Gaara cry out.

But before Gaara could get his mouth to speak words, Naruto’s voice came out of the answering machine: “Neji! Neji, pick up! Are you there? Gaara’s missing without his shirt! Lee said you left the bar with him! Is he ok? Pick up, Neji, I’m on my way there, and I’ll break down your door—“

Cursing, Neji got off the bed and picked up the phone, snapping, “He’s fine, Naruto. Fuck off!”

Gaara couldn’t hear what Naruto was saying, but suddenly he knew what he wanted to hear Neji say. “Master, Master, tell him I belong to you now, that you will keep me, care for your pet until he dies.”

And then that look, that look that made Gaara feel breathless, made him feel special. “Naruto, Gaara told me to tell you the truth. He’s my pet now, and I’m going to keep him and care for him until he dies.” Gaara cried out, feelings of pleasure making his shake, inside and outside.

Neji was talking again, angry, “You don’t have to worry, Naruto, I would never abuse my pet. Do you think I’m a fool? Do you think you are the only one who knows how precious Gaara is? Why would I hurt the most important thing I own? You—“

“Master! Master! I need you!” cried out Gaara, feeling he would die if he couldn't feel Neji touching him, treasuring him. “Please hurry, Master, please!” he cried out, not caring that Neji pushed the phone near his mouth, then pulled it back to his face.

“Did you hear that Naruto? Satisfied?” demanded Neji his voice rough. Whatever Naruto said, it was enough for Neji. He dropped the phone on the floor and leaped up on the bed. “Pet, pet, this won’t be slow,” he growled, and then he thrust in.

Gaara cried out with joy and tightened around him, trying to pull that cock in deeper, drawing a cry out of Neji. Yes, yes, that was how he wanted to hear his Master, crying, growling, out of control! “Master, harder! Deeper!” he cried, and Neji growled and grunted, thrusting like mad, making Gaara smile into the bedding. He clamped and released his muscles around Neji, making him cry and gasp, “Pet, god, pet!” Yes, yes, that was he wanted to hear. This was all he’d ever wanted, to be needed, to be wanted, to know, to hear it, to be touched, to be loved.

But then Neji leaned down over his back, his hair spilling over Gaara’s shoulders, and one hand jerking his head up by the hair, pulling his head back. His voice growled in Gaara’s ear, “Mine!” and Gaara shivered and moaned, everything flying out of his mind, but pleasing that voice, the voice he loved, his Master’s voice. Yes, this, this was where he belonged, under his Master, being fucked, fucked hard. He was a lucky pet, a very lucky pet who loved his Master.

“So good, pet, so good,” cried out Neji, and Gaara cried out the words in his mind, “Master! Master! I love you!”

Neji roared, going wild, pounding Gaara, making him scream with pleasure, making him forget everything, everything but Neji.

Sometimes you get exactly what you ask for.