D/s Naruto

Chapter 13 (Saturday 15 June 2007, morning)

Naruto woke up with Sasuke’s finger in his ass. He wasn’t at his best in the morning. The great thing about running most of your business online was that you could get up at 11 or so every day. Naruto was lying on his stomach exhausted, too exhausted to really care or be interested in what Sasuke was doing. He opened one eye to peek at the clock; it read 9:26. It was way too early. It then occurred to him maybe Sasuke was wanting him to sub this morning. That would suck.

“Yo, Sasuke,” he said in his slow morning voice,”you just giving me a friendly hello or you wanting that sub session now?”

“Just being friendly, Idiot. You don’t seem to be a morning person,” said Sasuke, adding another finger.

“Oh, good,” said Naruto with a sigh of pleasure, “then a little lower and a bit to the right.”

“Right here?” ask Sasuke, hitting his prostate.

“Oh yea, right there. Give me a bit of that, and maybe you’ll wake up the demon too,” said Naruto.

“Who’s the demon?” asked Sasuke, giving him quite a bit of “that.”

“My cock,” said Naruto, “What do you call yours?”

Sasuke laughed and pulled his fingers out, annoying Naruto. “What the fuck are you laughing at, Asshole?” asked Naruto, actually picking his head up off the bed and turning it to look back at Sasuke. “You too high and might to name that thin beanpole of yours?”

Sasuke pushed in three lubed fingers and hit Naruto’s prostate dead on. To his delight Naruto’s eyes crossed for a second, and his mouth dropped open. It was fun making someone respond so openly to him; it made Sasuke feel godlike and sexy. “No, Idiot, it just never occurred to me,” he said with a grin, “But I kind of like your suggestion, so I’ll call mine beanpole. Is there a special christening ceremony for when you name your dick?”

Naruto’s head was no longer looking back at Sasuke. He’d moved his arms in front of him and was propped up a bit on his elbows. His head was rocking in time with Sasuke’s thrusts. “Yea,” he said, “You anoint your baby with some special oil, say `Go get ‘em, beanpole’ or whatever the name is, and then you dip him into the closest ass around. Once he sprays his first load, it’s official.”

“No special latex clothing first?” asked Sasuke, pulling out his fingers.

“No, he’s got to go in naked. Your boy’s got to get all wet for it to be official,” said Naruto, “and a Cock Christening Ceremony should always be started before 9:30 in the morning.”

Naruto felt Sasuke pull his ass up and position himself between his legs. “Go get ‘em, Beanpole,” said Sasuke as he thrust in shallowly.

Naruto’s tussled golden head flew back, and he let out a loud, “Yea.”

“Any rules about how long the ceremony should take?” asked Sasuke, pausing to make sure Naruto was ready for him to move.

“No, but I forgot to say if the one getting fucked doesn’t get off the ceremony doesn’t count, and you got redo the whole thing the next morning,” said Naruto, pushing back at Sasuke, urging him to go deeper.

Sasuke pulled out a bit and then slid back in, going a bit deeper this time. He made no effort to find Naruto’s cock with his hand, just saying, “Oh my, what a shame that would be.”

Naruto just said, “Deeper, dammit! Come on Sasuke have some pride, shove that beanpole up me as far as you can and make this worth waking up for.”

This time Sasuke, thrust in hard and didn’t stop till his balls were against Naruto.

“Yea, that’s it, Asshole,” said Naruto, “Give it to me like that.”

Sasuke did.

Down in the control room, Gaara frowned, not believing a word Naruto said, but still having a little nagging doubt. He didn’t have any friends, so he couldn’t help but wonder just a little if there was some boy’s club tradition about naming your schlong that nobody had mentioned to him. He was always finding out things no one had mentioned to him. Like when people said, “Get out of here,” a lot of times they really meant, “I don’t believe you.” It was just more proof that he had been born missing something, some sort of set of rules that other people were born with in their heads. Or maybe everybody else just learned those rules from their friends or family.

While he didn’t have friends, he did have family. But even Gaara’s uncle, Sasori, and his brother, Kankurou, spent as little time with him as possible. Itachi liked him working the club because he never complained about working mornings or even working ridiculously long shifts, sometimes 20 or more hours straight. One weekend he’d worked 64 hours straight before Sasori figured that out and yelled at Itachi. It was a sign of how much his uncle cared that it had taken 54 hours over the usual ten-hour shift for him to notice.

Gaara hadn’t minded, however, because he didn’t need much sleep. The one time he had tried meth, it had been a disaster. He’d been up seven days straight—or at least he thought so because after day five he didn’t remember much. He remembered wandering around the Mojave on his bike for four days. He remembered deciding to go to Vegas to take a shower. He ending up in Vegas in a jail cell so smelly it didn’t seem likely he’d gotten one. He’d had to be bailed out by Kankurou, and his motorcycle was never found. He’d also apparently got himself a tattoo of something—it looked part dog, part raccoon, and 100% bad ass. Written underneath the thing was the word “Shukaku”; what the fuck that meant, Gaara had no idea. He’d avoided meth and any other drugs since. He’d really, really liked that Harley. He didn’t have enough money to replace it, and Sasori wouldn’t co-sign for another loan.

Gaara sat in the control room and watched Sasuke and Naruto, feeling both curious and confused. He’d never seen anyone have sex outside of a D/s scene, and the way the two of them were interacting was weird and puzzling. It was particularly annoying as Gaara had just been starting to feel like he had this sex thing figured out. He was planning to negotiate for that in his next contract with a sub.

When he dommed, he usually went for the pain sluts, preferring a little knife play and the more intense forms of punishment, like the rattan cane or the bullwhip. He was an artist with the whip; even Itachi wasn’t as accurate in placement and control of the intensity of each lash. Gaara knew how to beat or whip someone. Sometimes he would even get off from it, coming in his pants. On rare occasions he might order his sub to jerk off for him. But he’d never fucked anyone or gotten a blowjob, sub or no. He’d never given one. He’d never even been kissed.

Gaara was an honest to God 100% virgin.

But for some reason everyone assumed he wasn’t. Gaara watched and learned. He experimented in his own room. But for some reason, when it came to a scene, he couldn’t do it. What if he did it wrong? What if he couldn’t get it up or put the condom on right? What if he didn’t get off? Or his sub didn’t? One of the reason he hung out at Orochimaru’s club, Manda’s, was everyone assumed that was where he had sex. They also assumed that Gaara avoided sex at Uchiha’s for the very reason he did: privacy.

Gaara knew too well that there was really no such thing as privacy at Uchiha’s if you were staff. The member’s contracts had privacy clauses that carefully spelled out what could and what could not be recorded or monitored. The employee’s contracts basically let you be filmed doing everything, even taking a shit. In the numbered rooms upstairs, no taping was done—but there were secret cameras and microphones that went on the minute the panic button was pushed. Not many people knew this secret, and the loophole in the membership contract that allowed it hadn’t been questioned yet--although Gaara wondered if Itachi removed it from the contracts for members who were lawyers. Membership contracts were something that got careful privacy. He’d never been able to find them in any of the rooms he’d broken into or files he hacked.

But taping in the unnumbered room was the norm. Most of the long-term staff and members knew the unnumbered room was always watched. That room was the standard one given to new doms and for those indulging in anything that fell under the “dangerous” section of the membership contract. Until the new doms earned trust, they didn’t get privacy. Most never knew they had been taped till long after the fact, and by then the tapes had been destroyed. In fact the tapes from that room were destroyed every few hours unless anything dangerous occurred, and then they were only kept until it was clear there would be no problems with the session or the member.

But Gaara knew that Kisame taped every sessions of Itachi’s he could and frequently kept copies. He wasn’t sure if Itachi knew this, but Gaara, of course, never would initiate a conversation and ask. Itachi taped every sessions of Sasuke’s, making Kisame do most of it for him. He hadn’t ordered Gaara to do that, but he would usually tell him not to bother with deleting things if Sasuke was domming. Gaara had never worked before when Sasuke was subbing. Itachi had personally talked to him about making sure to tape Sasuke when he’d come in to take over for Kisame. Gaara didn’t really see what the big obsession was with Sasuke—he was a boring, dull sub and not a very inventive or active dom. Most of the time he dommed, it was for some of the lonely, needy subs who were between masters.

But, this, this was different. For one thing, Itachi had said Sasuke was subbing, but clearly he wasn’t. And the new dom whose name Gaara didn’t know yet, the blonde, had talked as if he was going to do the subbing. But Sasuke had been worked over last night—there were still faint pink lines showing he’d taken a pretty intense session with a crop. And they’d been sleeping together in the bed when he’d come on shift. Subs slept on the floor or at least in some sort of bondage. Sometimes they slept in a cage or tied upright to the bed posts or a cross. When they were let in the bed untied, it was almost always a collared pair, owner and slave. And usually then they slept a lot closer—holding each other, sometimes even with the master’s cock inside his slave all night. Naruto and Sasuke had kept to their sides of the bed, not even touching. It was weird.

Gaara decided to make himself a video copy and study it. This new dom, this blonde, he was interesting, different. He was worth watching. He had ordered breakfast for them both and clothes for Sasuke. Why did Sasuke need clothes? Listening carefully to the conversation over Sasuke’s eggs benedict and the blonde’s Captain Crunch, Gaara learned the new member was Uzumaki Naruto, a gold and silversmith. He’d ripped up Sasuke’s clothes and was going to replace them. He was also evidently going to pierce Sasuke a lot.

Fascinated, Gaara listened to the argument over piercings. Naruto liked doing them and had been doing them for a number of years—Gaara wasn’t sure exactly how many, but it seemed to be at least five, maybe even as many as ten years. Evidently he would be happy to do a few piercings when asked at the club, but Sasuke was insisting he couldn’t pierce anyone but himself. This didn’t make any sense since Naruto wasn’t Sasuke’s slave, so he could hardly give him an order like that. Naruto had a new little shop downtown, not far from the club, for his jewelry business. He made custom piercing jewelry, slave collars, nipple clamps, cock rings, and chain link ball cages. He was opening up at 5 tonight, and, evidently would be piercing Sasuke. Gaara decided he would be doing a little shopping tonight.

He’d check out Naruto’s web page first, however, to make sure what he could afford to buy and find out what some of the weirder things Naruto referred to were: Medusas, Monroes, Magic Crosses, Chrysocolla, Chariote, and Conchoidal Fractures. The last one seemed to have nothing to do with bones and was something good having to do with Naruto’s gems. Gaara was pretty sure Naruto really meant gems like in jewelry, not his testicles, but he wasn’t 100% sure. He was going to rewatch the whole tape this afternoon and do some research.

When the conversation turned to judo, however, Gaara had no trouble following it. He personally preferred Karate to judo’s “gentle way,” but he practiced both. It was relaxing. All you had to do was memorize the rule book, and you were fine. There were no secret codes, hidden meanings, or special facial expressions you needed to understand. You got to touch people and could control how much they touched you. And the Karate kata were something to do when you couldn’t sleep. Many a night Gaara had practiced kata while doing laundry in the room down the hall. Kakashi even let him lead some judo kata classes on occasion.

It had been a while since he’d been down to Kakashi’s dojo. Naruto and Sasuke were talking about sparring. That was something Gaara really wanted to see. Maybe watching them spar would help him understand their weird sex. Besides, the great judo master himself fascinated Gaara. He didn’t understand how Kakashi could be so powerful and yet like subbing. A few years ago he’d tried to understand Kakashi, but all he’d discovered what he really, really didn’t like Iruka. That guy went from sweet to maniac in a second. He was crazy. As much as he had liked spending all his free time watching Kakashi, Gaara now only did it a few hours or so a week now.

Kakashi’s master, Iruka, was totally insane in Gaara’s opinion. It amazed him that no one else but Zabuza seemed to be aware of this. He assumed that everyone was counting on Kakashi to take over and control Iruka if the guy finally snapped. It was weird how many people, however, seemed to like the guy and want his company. But then again a lot of people liked to keep pit bulls and six to eight foot long boa constrictors. Most people were fucking crazy. That was why Gaara kept his distance. At least when you entered a dom/sub contract, you knew exactly what you were getting.

But Gaara had to admit that there were some people so fascinating it was worth trying to get to know them. He was willing, for interesting people like Kakashi and Naruto, to do a bit of work. He’d follow them in his spare time, check out their work, watch their sessions in the club (it was easy to use the panic button to trigger the cameras—you just called and said you thought it wasn’t working and got the dom to hit it), learn their favorite restaurants, and on occasion break into the club office and read the reports and background checks that Toby, the club’s private investigator did on every member and employee.

He didn’t have a report any more. The first few times he’d looked at it, it had confused and annoyed him so much he’d destroyed it. Most of it didn’t make any sense. He figured Itachi had agreed and not bothered to replace it. What was wrong with being dissociative? There weren’t a lot of people worth be sociative with, so why all the negativity about his dissociation? And how could you say he was anti-social? He worked in this club almost every day. He was a member of the United States and the International Judo Federations. That was three social groups! And he had been a member of a number of Karate associations before he’d had that incident in the Kyokushin competition. It was so stupid, and he didn’t deserve a lifetime ban. He’d read the rules, and the sport was called “full contact karate” for a reason. But the most damning thing was the person writing the report couldn’t even keep straight his sex. He didn’t know why Toby had included such a questionable thing. How could he possibly have problems with lability—he didn’t even have a labia! How fucked up was that?