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Birthright	By : sadfascist Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3579 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own NARUTO, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
BIRTHRIGHT
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: “Outcast”
Naruto made his way north toward the slave markets. Uchiha Castle was behind him, the desolate ruins at the southern tip of Sawara that people had named the Haunted City. It was said that no one could trespass into the Haunted City and leave without losing a piece of their soul. Naruto did not know if he’d ever had a soul. Yet he had left something behind in that place. Naruto was just not sure what.
People bustled all around him, merchants and traders and workers. He was approaching Market Street, the main thoroughfare of the Merchant District, and the distinctive scent of money was in the air. It was the aroma of the slaves. The most valuable property in all the world, but hardly the most fragrant. The stink of the unwashed, naked bodies piling in pens along the street made Naruto want to cut off his nose, and then bury it besides. Here and there people had scattered plum petals along the cobblestones, trying to absorb the smell, but in the noonday heat it was a futile effort.
Naruto could breathe a little better when he came to the river. Market Street ran right across the breadth of the Haven River, and the arching marble span of Sawara Bridge was stuffed to the brim not only with traffic, but with the sweet tangy taste of the wind. Peasant workers in loincloths were shouting, trying to get past each other. Some of them got into a fight and one dropped his shoulder pole, spilling a basket of fish off the bridge into the river below. His straw hat floated downstream as well; a woman in a passing pleasure boat plucked it up and placed it on her own head, giggling and waving at the cursing peasant with a red paper fan.
The Haven River was full of slave boats. The pole-barges drifted downriver from all across the north, carrying slaves to the Sawara market to be sold at auction. Naruto spied a group of black-skinned slaves on one pole-barge as it docked at the pier under the bridge. From the far north, the Earth Country perhaps. The men were unremarkable and thus nearly worthless, though some of the women and boys were pretty enough to fetch a high price. Likely they would be bought by some pimps, sent to work in Sin City as whores and courtesans. There are worse fates. If they catch some lord’s fancy, they could even become slavegirls and slaveboys. One of the boys, thin and naked and chained to the others by the throat, was crying.
Naruto looked away. He’d crossed Sawara Bridge and now Madara Square was in front of him. The massive plaza stretched all along the river in both directions, endless row upon row of black stone tiles. In its center lay a large statue of Uchiha Madara, the first Shogun, carved in white dreamstone. Madara rode a horse and his sword was raised high over his head, pointing north toward the imperial palace. The Birthright Imperial Palace loomed directly above the plaza, a sprawling golden fortress on the towering hill of the High District.
The palace is not so golden today. Tendrils of smoke still rose up from Birthright Keep, indeed from all over the high city. The attack from two nights ago had done great damage, though not near as much as the slaves had hoped. The Warlord had crushed the rebellion and rounded up all their leaders, so Naruto had heard, a dragon hunting down a conspiracy of rats.
Uchiha Itachi was in Madara Square right now, passing judgment on the traitors.
Naruto walked right up to his master. The Lord of the Blood Country stood on a raised wooden platform in the center of Madara Square, in front of the statue, and thousands of naked slaves were tied to rows of stakes below him. Resplendent in lacquered armor of midnight black and crimson, his face a grim mask of marble fury, Master Itachi looked as fearsome as Naruto had ever seen him. Naruto approached and bowed his head to the floor.
“Master,” he said. “I failed you.”
“You are making a habit of that lately,” said Uchiha Itachi.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where were you, boy?”
“I chased the Kitsune to the edge of the palace wall. He ran down the wall into the low city and I jumped down after him. That’s the last thing I remember, before I woke up. Then I bandaged my wounds and came here.” The lie came easily, more easily than Naruto would’ve thought. He had never lied to his master before.
“The Demon Fox is a dangerous man,” said Minister Sougon Sawar. He was standing on the platform, along with Lord Misain Arashi, the new Admiral of the Scarlet Fleet, and Hayate Inari, the new General of the Army of the North. The Demon Fox had killed their predecessors, it was true, but they had been easily replaced as well. The hydra does not die until its head is cut off. Naruto wondered where Sasuke was now.
“I don’t disagree, sir,” said Misain Arashi, “yet the Kitsune could not have attacked the palace by himself. Look at this conspiracy the Warlord has exposed!” He gestured to the slaves shackled down below. “To think, the Namikaze boy, Hiashi’s own nephew, was a traitor!”
Namikaze Nyuka was tied spread-eagled to the stakes, face up and naked, and the Warlord’s soldiers were busy raping him in the ass. From the platform Naruto could see Nyuka’s face quite clearly. It was a mass of purple bruises and whip scars and bloody golden hair. When one of the soldiers thrust especially hard and Nyuka screamed, his mouth did not seem to have teeth. There was a brand burned into his forehead, Naruto saw, a black twisted cross. A slaveseal.
“He doomed his entire clan,” Arashi continued. “They’ll be outcast with him!”
“And castrated,” Hayate Inari said, with more than a little glee. “The traitorous Namikaze clan shall be no more. They shall live the rest of their brutish lives in the Outcast Districts, unclean slaves, digging graves and slaughtering swine. Once more I bow to your greatness, Lord Itachi. You truly know justice.”
“The Kitsune has done me a favor,” said the Warlord. Glittering red and black dreamsteel armor plated his entire body from the neck down. “He smoked out all my enemies into the open and I destroyed them.”
The Warlord had many enemies. The entire length of Madara Square was filled from end to end with the captive rebels, most of them slaves, but also those who had been highblood nobles. All the Namikaze clan was there, men, women, even the little children. Momochi Zabuza, the pimp of the House of Brotherly Love, was there. The shark bloodline girl was there. Gangs of soldiers prowled the plaza, raping and torturing everyone as they saw fit. The shark girl was stretched out on an iron rack and her scales were being peeled off one by one. She did not scream as much as Naruto expected. The rebels had been receiving the Warlord’s justice for some time, no doubt, and they were too delirious to do much more than whimper and sob. The stench of it was the worst. Sweat mixed with heat and blood and shit to form an putrid squalid odor like nothing that Naruto had ever experienced, even at the height of the slave markets. Minister Sawar was politely holding a perfumed cloth to his nose.
“Naruto,” said Uchiha Itachi. “Come here.”
Naruto was still kneeling on the floor. He swallowed, nervously, but obeyed his master. Was Master Itachi going to beat him? The Warlord was staring at him, deep green eyes glittering beneath the black burned scar. Naruto looked down, unable to meet his master’s gaze, not wanting to stare.
Itachi stretched out an armored hand to stroke Naruto’s face. “My little slave,” his master whispered. The black scale fingers slid across the boy’s cheek, then the boy’s tangled blonde hair and the bloody bandages on the side of his head. “Take off your clothes.”
Naruto swallowed again. He undid the sash around his waist, letting his black kimono flap apart. A shrug of the shoulders sent the kimono tumbling to the floor. Then he reached a hand down between his legs to pull off his loincloth. His little white penis was flaccid and the scrotum hung loosely in the heat.
“The sandals, too,” said his master.
Naruto flicked them off his feet one after the other. “Good boy,” said the master. His gauntleted left hand was still cupped around Naruto’s cheek, almost enclosing Naruto’s entire head. It was warm to the touch, but stiff as well. Itachi tightened his grip as he moved closer. “You were badly hurt.” Naruto felt another scaled hand stroke the bandages around his torso, fingers tapping, down the curve of his back to fondle his bare ass. “But still beautiful. So lovely.”
Itachi moved even closer, circling Naruto now. The master’s long silver hair brushed Naruto’s shoulder as he stalked behind him. One hand remained against Naruto’s jaw, holding it so tight it hurt, while the right hand slid around to his front, between Naruto’s legs. Naruto was suddenly aware of his own nakedness, his vulnerability. He could see all the Warlord’s advisors staring at him. The Warlord could easily snap his body in half, he knew. Naruto held his arms limp at his sides and did not dare to move.
“Little Naruto,” his master murmured. There was a soft wet nip at the nape of Naruto’s neck. A kiss. At the same instant his master grabbed Naruto’s dick, causing Naruto to gasp at the hardness of the scaled metal. “My slave. My perfect little weapon.” His master’s lips and tongue pressed hungrily down on Naruto’s neck and across his shoulder, licking at the armpit. Naruto moaned. Usually the master would not pleasure him this way. The Warlord’s strong arms were wrapped around him, enfolding the boy’s slim nude body in an embrace of steel. Naruto’s cock stirred, swallowed by huge armored fingers. “I half thought you were dead,” Uchiha Itachi said.
Naruto flushed. He did not know how to reply. “But here you are, alive,” Itachi continued. His voice was husky with desire. “That is good. You are very important to me, Naruto. You are my right arm.” Itachi’s fingers slowly kneaded the tip of Naruto’s cock. Naruto gasped, shining blue eyes trembling in excitement. “You are my slaveboy.”
“I am yours, Master Itachi,” Naruto whispered. “I live only to serve you.”
“Good boy.” The Warlord circled back to the front. As he did so he let go of Naruto’s jaw, sliding his left hand around under the arch of Naruto’s ass. His right remained fisted tight around his slaveboy’s erect penis. “My precious loyal beautiful boy.” Naruto felt his asscheeks being pulled apart, and then something warm and very hard slip between into the crack. He gasped at the intrusion, tensing, but his master’s hand only pushed further in. A long metal finger twitched inside Naruto, caressing the soft rectal lining. Then another finger, a third. Naruto’s sphincter stretched to its limit and he could not help but throw back his head in shuddering pleasure.
Uchiha Itachi’s face was towering before him, bronze skin and chiseled jaw and green eyes so dark they were almost black. And above all the hideous twisted burn, the scar that smelled of death.
For the first time, Naruto realized that his master looked like Sasuke.
“Come here,” said his master, and for a moment Naruto did not understand how he could get any closer. Then the Warlord lifted him up, thrust his entire hand into Naruto’s rectum and raised the naked slaveboy in the air, slamming their bodies together. Naruto cried out with the violence of it. He was dangling helplessly against his master, supported only by a hand in his ass and another hand around his cock, their heads level, eye to eye. Naruto had served Uchiha Itachi his entire life, knew all his moods, yet… yet now Naruto was at a loss, to say what he saw. There was anger in his master’s cold face, and hunger, but it was all mixed up, it was all in confusion. “I want you,” Uchiha Itachi whispered. He kissed at Naruto’s mouth greedily. “You’re mine.”
“Master…” Naruto gasped. The armored fingers inside him closed and open like claws, tearing at his gut. Blood trickled down his thighs and dripped off his hanging toes. He wanted to tell his master to slow down, to stop, but Itachi’s lips were on him and his hot tongue was in Naruto’s mouth. Itachi fisted his ass, pushing Naruto upwards, making his smooth little cock slide against suffocating steel. Then he did not want his master to stop at all. Beneath the pain a flood of pleasure surged through Naruto from top to bottom. He kicked his legs, grinding and squirming his prone chest against the plates of his master’s armor. His penis was sandwiched so strongly. They kissed again and again, pausing only to breathe.
Naruto came. His dick clenched and then he could feel the semen squirting from it, dribbling down over the shaft. The orgasm was so sudden Naruto did not even have time to shout. It passed through him like a breaking wave, leaving him gasping and panting. The slaveboy fell limp against his master, cheek resting on a cushion of fine silver hair. He felt himself being swallowed. “Let your will be done,” Naruto whispered.
“Yes.” Itachi lowered Naruto to the floor and slid his left hand from Naruto’s ass. When he removed his right, Naruto saw the black metal was covered with sticky white. That was shameful. Never did he ejaculate before his master; a slaveboy was always supposed to wait. But Itachi only brought the hand to his face and licked the semen off the gauntleted dreamsteel, one finger at a time. Then he licked Naruto’s smeared brown shit off the other.
Naruto could not remember when Itachi had last eaten his body fluids. Maybe never. The Warlord’s advisors were all trying not to gape, averting their eyes. Even some of the outcast slaves shackled near the platform were staring. There is something different about Master today, I’ve never seen him like this. Naruto was not sure if that was good or bad. Would the Warlord still punish him for his failures, or was he safe? How much dare I do?
He prostrated himself, naked, head against the floor. “Master.” Naruto swallowed before continuing. “Master Itachi, please. May I have your leave to go?”
“Leave?” The Warlord stared with displeasure. Bright afternoon light flowed down his silver hair and rippled across the surface of his polished crimson armor, making the metal plates dance. It was evident that his master was not yet sexually satisfied. Suddenly the master began to cough; he covered it with the back of his hand, but the whole platform could hear the sound. The Warlord did not acknowledge it. “You may go, Naruto,” he said. “You are injured. Return to the palace and rest.”
Naruto bowed again. The Warlord was already gesturing to the others. “My lords, this slave conspiracy is shattered. Yet the Demon Fox remains at large, and Senju Hagoromo the Butcher sails ever closer to Sawara with his invading army. I would have us discuss our defense plans.” Naruto stood and walked down the steps of the wooden platform, across Madara Square and north toward the imperial palace which still smoked in the flushing afternoon sky.
On his way out he passed the outcast shark girl. He could hear her begging. “Please,” the bloodline child was hissing. “Please, m’lord, kill me and be done with it.” Half the scales on her face had been stripped off, including her nose. Her voice came through the bloody hole where the nose had been, whistling and rattling like the iron chains that bound the shark girl to the stretching rack. Naruto held a sleeve to his face, to ward off the stink, and did not stop. The brutal fisting he’d just endured made it hurt even to stand up, but he walked as quickly as could.
Naruto felt very tired. He felt exhausted, and did not even bother to run a bath when he came back to the palace and collapsed on his master’s bed. It was unusually hot, more like summer than spring. A clammy, humid warmth massed in the bedchamber and covered him in suffocating blankets. Sleep came to him swiftly and he welcomed it. It seemed, though, that during the night he had some sort of passionate nightmare, so strong and loud that he woke up Master Itachi with his shrieks. The really unexpected and surprising thing was that afterward, for the life of him, straining all his faculties, he couldn’t remember anything about it. How strange. The young slaveboy usually remembered his dreams.
Next: CHAPTER FIFTEEN: “With Both Eyes Open”
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Birthright