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Birthright	By : sadfascist Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3578 -:- 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
- 6
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- 8
BIRTHRIGHT
CHAPTER SEVEN: “An Evening Demon”
When Naruto woke it was already past noon, and the sun filtered through the pine trees overhead like golden rice pouring through a strain, scattering bright drops in every direction.
Sasuke was under him, his naked body warm and soft. A slight smile played on the sleeping boy’s face, sweet and wicked all at once, and Naruto thought he had never seen anything more beautiful. I love you, he remembered. Sasuke had spoken of love, too, that day on Shinjukame Temple. He had sung of a wanderer seeking his true love from the holy land. Naruto had not understood. Why would a slave whore sing of love?
And then suddenly Naruto could only hear a different voice, a different memory. Uchiha Itachi was towering over him, his eyes as luminous as they were merciless. “You do not act as a slave should,” he declared in a flat dead tone. “Or have you forgotten?” And the boy had pleaded, No, please, Master, I am your tool, I live only to serve you, please…
Master. The thought hit the boy with the force of an explosion.
He tumbled out from Sasuke’s entangled limbs, gasping and struggling for breath. He wanted to retch. Master. I betrayed Master Itachi. He had done it again, and far worse than the last time. Not just a kiss, a whole night of sexual orgy. He was supposed to be looking for the Demon Fox, he was supposed to be protecting his master. Instead he had been fucking a whore. The shame and disgust coursed through the boy like a tidal wave, drowning him. Love? A mad lust, yes, some sort of demon seduction, but not love. Slaves did not love, Naruto knew. Slaves only served.
Naruto was so distraught that when he went to gather his clothes he could not even stand up. They had been scattered across the clearing, and to get them all he had to repeatedly crawl around the sleeping Sasuke. Naruto tried not to look at him. I must never see that whore again.
But as he was adjusting his robes and sliding his sword through his belt, on the way out of the clearing, somehow he stumbled, and there Sasuke was before him. The other boy had shifted position, so that his back and thighs and ass were pointed at Naruto. The naked skin was white as snow and tautly muscled. Naruto felt his dick begin to stiffen at the sight.
No. No, it must never happen again. The boy wrenched his gaze away and staggered from the clearing, as fast as he could manage. It was not very fast. The Godswood seemed to stretch beyond the end of the world, and Sawara was like an alien city, full of mazes and traps that he could not find the way out of, though he had lived there his whole life. By the time he climbed up the steps of the imperial palace it was getting dark.
One of the samurai on guard duty leered at him, an ugly stunted fellow with yellow teeth and a face like a piece of rotten cork. “Where you been, slaveboy?” he called. “Found the Demon Fox yet?”
“Fuck you,” Naruto said, too tired for a witty retort.
The samurai’s eyes bulged. “You dare?” He spat and drew his katana, pointing it at Naruto’s chest. “You dare insult a samurai! By rights I could kill you for that, slaveboy.” He turned to his fellow guards. “Or shall I make him suck my cock instead?”
The other samurai laughed uproariously. Ever since his failure to protect Admiral Hiashi, Naruto’s status in the imperial pecking order had taken a crushing blow. The Warlord’s anger at his slaveboy was well known, and the samurai were gleefully taking advantage of it. It was death for a slave to raise a hand against a higher caste, but suddenly Naruto was strongly tempted. His face already has so many holes, another one won’t hurt, will it?
“You dummy,” a voice piped up behind them. “Don’t draw a sword if ya’re not gonna use it.”
Naruto turned in shock. It was Sasuke, running up the palace steps with some sort of cloth pack on his back. The boy smiled, mouth dimpling. The slaveseal on his forehead seemed to burn in the setting sun.
“What’s this?” the cork-faced samurai sneered. “Another slave?”
“Ya got a problem with that? The Warlord don’t. He sent Naruto to find me, ‘cuz I can find the Demon Fox. We got to speak to the Warlord, now. Get out of our way… or else.” Sasuke licked his lips, and when he turned to whisper in Naruto’s ear his tongue crawled all along the rim of Naruto’s earlobe. “Please, Naruto. Let me go with you. Don’t leave me. You promised.”
Naruto was dumbfounded, unable to speak. The samurai fared little better. “You… you dare!” the cork-face man sputtered. They were all watching Naruto, now, the samurai at the palace gates, the ones manning the walls, the ones in the watchtowers and in the courtyards. The great samurai of the Blood Country. They were afraid of him, he knew. He was only a slave, but his master was Uchiha Itachi.
And Sasuke? Sasuke was nobody, he was a whore, they would cut him to pieces for his insolence, and the Warlord would praise them for it.
The boy found his voice. “Fuck you,” he said. “And move aside.”
They obeyed. Naruto led Sasuke through the gates into the imperial palace, into a vast winding labyrinth of tight stone paths and tunneled passages. At every corner there was another checkpoint, another group of grim-faced samurai who let no one through without the proper papers. Security, already extensive, had tripled since Hyuuga Hiashi’s assassination. The Demon Fox would find the Warlord a very different sort of target than the drunk admiral. Even Naruto had to produce his travel pass, though they all knew him, and many questions of Sasuke were asked.
At last they came to the gardens, at the very innermost center of the palace, an expanse of exquisitely cultivated flowers, trees, rocks, and tiny flowing streams that surrounded Birthright Keep. The red lacquered stone of the Keep shot up into the sky like an arrow, a grim solemn thing, rows of window slits spilling out light like a thousand yellow eyes. The throne room was on the ground floor of the Keep. Naruto knew his master was waiting.
But in the gardens, finally, there were no samurai guards. The two boys were alone, and Naruto could speak freely.
He whirled to push Sasuke up against a tree. Hard. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.
Sasuke grinned. “Don’t be mad, Naruto. I just wanted ta be close to ya. I missed you.”
“If only I could say the same. This is the second time in one day I’ve saved your life, and you return the favor by trying to kill me instead. We know where the Kitsune is? No we don’t! Master Itachi does not suffer liars.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then where is he?”
“In Sawara, silly.” The boy shrugged, giggling. “I think.”
Naruto wanted to tear his hair out. Or choke the whore until his pretty white face turns black. Instead he said, “You’re as poor a thinker as you are a liar. I ought to let Master mount your head on a spike, only mine would certainly follow. Damnit, Sasuke. What am I do with you now?”
In the night Sasuke’s eyes were like dark jade stones. “I don’t know.”
Naruto backed away, disgusted. A few hours ago I swore to never see this whore again. But that just another lie, another broken promise. Sasuke was like a cockroach in a field of shit; try as he might, Naruto could not get rid of him. “The kitchens are always in need of slave help. Might be I could find you a place… but I’ve got to speak to my master first. He’s waiting for me. Do you understand? Just stay here. And, please, by all the gods, keep your mouth shut.”
Sasuke grinned. “Even for a goodbye kiss? See ya soon, Naruto.”
When the slaveboy entered Birthright Keep, the orgy had already begun. It was a writhing mass of moaning sweating human flesh, slavegirls and slaveboys and geishas and monks and samurai and nobles, the naked and the drunk and the drunk naked. Purple incense smoke swirled from a thousand candle stands. Painted slave servants offered cups of hot sake. Fat eunuchs in the corners blared out erotic music from willow tree flutes; they tried their best, but it was not quite loud enough to drown out the screams of the Warlord’s orgasming guests.
I wonder which of them will tire first, the flutes or the cocks? The orgy had been going on for some time, judging by the reek of accumulated semen. The sweet smell of debauchery. The boy could not complain; he stank of it himself. Only the Warlord Uchiha Itachi seemed above it all, sitting on his golden throne, long silver hair hanging down like icicles, cold eyes dissecting his subjects like so many wriggling swine.
And Lord Itachi was the swine herder. The Warlord ran the Blood Country on terribly strict and exacting standards, which is what made it so strong. But the baser spirits of human nature could be leashed for only so long. So every once in a while Lord Itachi would deign to grant his subjects a temporary vent of release. Most often, the vent would be a battlefield; but if there were no battles, he would give them orgies.
With some difficulty Naruto pushed through the masses of naked fucking people to the throne. “Master! I’ve located one of the Kitsune’s hideouts.” Kneeling, he explained the situation. “He or the other spies may return to the clearing. It is ripe for an ambush.”
Uchiha Itachi shifted his head slightly, his face a mask of frozen iron. “Is that all?”
Minister Sougon Sawar chuckled beside the throne, red robes rustling. He was the only one in the Keep still wearing clothes, besides Naruto and the Warlord himself. “Too little and too late, Naruto,” he said. “The Warlord expects you to bring him the Demon Fox’s head. But you bring only words.”
Naruto buried his head in the floor, thinking of Sasuke. “I’m sorry, Master. I will continue the hunt at once. May I have your leave to go?”
“Ah, but what’s the rush?” a drunken voice laughed behind them. “The fun’s just beginning.” A very naked Namikaze Nyuka staggered into view, a slavegirl concubine dangling from his shoulder. “Lord Itachi! Oh, great Warlord of Blood! May this humble poet present you a gift.” He waved his hand, and the slavegirl knelt on cue before the throne.
“Fascinating,” the Minister of Coin observed. “A bloodline child.”
Naruto cared nothing for any girls, but at Sawar’s words his gaze whipped around, staring. And then he realized that the concubine was not human.
Not any human that Naruto had seen before, anyway. He hadn’t noticed, at first; he’d thought she just had odd-looking dark skin. But now he saw it was not skin at all. Scales. Scales like a fish, rough and leathery and sharp to the touch. Like a shark.
“Very good, Sawar!” Namikaze Nyuka exclaimed. “A hideous little bloodline, isn’t she? One of my slave ships acquired her during a raid just the other day. Comes from some island in the far east. A whole family of shark people, she claimed. Superstitious neighbors murdered her parents, and would done her in too, except… well, let’s say some men have very strange tastes. Smile for me, honey.”
The shark girl smiled. Her teeth were rows of daggers, a hundred jagged and pointed white arrowheads, wide enough to close on a man’s head and swallow it. Naruto involuntarily recoiled at the sight, his stomach roiling. Is this a bloodline child?
Tales had circulated through the world for years, whispers of children with strange deformities, strange powers. A pair of twins in the Hiroi desert born with twisted hair made of glass. A girl in the Earth Country with a tongue in the palm of her hand. A boy in the central grasslands with blood the color of tree sap. And not alone, either: others of their kind, born to the same parents, to the same uncles and aunts. An entire family of inhuman monstrosities. Clans of cursed blood. Bloodlines.
“A mouth made for tearing things in two,” said Minister Sawar. “What does the girl eat, I wonder?”
“She prefers raw meat, fish mostly. Though I feed her dick as well.” Nyuka laughed, almost choking on his own drunken spittle. “Her blowjobs are most stimulating, I assure you. Would Lord Itachi care for a demonstration?”
Other drunken lords had gathered around them now, drawn to the spectacle like crows to a rotting carcass. Misain Dayu, Arashi’s son and Rin’s brother. Hyuuga Neji, the new leader of the Hyuuga clan. Hayate Inari, young scion of the Hayate clan. The Sabaku twins, rich silk merchants. And, of course, a large contingent of plump Zen monks, led by Maito Gai of Shinjukame Temple.
“Splendid!” Maito Gai shouted. “Splendid! Let her eat me first!” He ran toward the shark girl, his penis flopping up and down like a limp rope. When he swung it at the girl’s mouth, it bounced off the teeth.
“An energetic offer, Gai-sama,” Nyuka said. “But I fear not quite, ah, stiff enough. Anyone else?” The poet tittered. “Naruto! How about you?”
Me? Naruto paled, coughing. He was no stranger to orgies, but this… he looked at the bloodline child. She smiled again, rows of sharp teeth glinting in the candlelight.
The nobles laughed uproariously. “Do you plan to make the poor boy an eunuch?” Sawar asked.
“Hardly.” Nyuka smiled. “Well, so long as he remembers to hold very, very still.”
That was one jape too much. “It seems you treat peckers the same as you treat poetry, Lord Nyuka-dono,” Naruto snapped. “Slicing them to pieces, and making the rest of us scream in pain.”
Hayate Inari hooted, clapping his hands. “Careful, Nyuka! The boy has a sharper mouth than the shark girl.”
“My little slave forgets himself,” said Uchiha Itachi.
His master’s voice was soft, but it cut through the air like a steel blade through a throat. Naruto looked up, shivering. The Warlord’s green eyes flashed from beneath a scarred black face. “Naruto. You forget your place. Your dick is safe tonight, but perhaps I ought to chop off your tongue instead. Sometimes you remind me of my first Naruto. Speak like this again, I warn you, and you shall meet the same end.”
Naruto swallowed. The first Naruto, his master’s childhood slave, had died during the Night of Blood, burned to a crisp in the remains of Uchiha Castle. Not the finest of namesakes. “I’m sorry, Master. Please. I live only to serve you.”
“Good. Come here.” As the Warlord spoke he opened his robe, spreading his thighs. Lord Itachi’s penis stuck out between them, half-erect but already glistening red. He directed his gaze to the others. “And Nyuka, you shall show me this bloodline girl as well. Personally.”
“This humble poet is yours to command. Oh great Itachi, I will give you a sexual symphony to last the rest of your days!”
Namikaze Nyuka almost sounded like he was dancing, but Naruto could not see him any longer. The boy had fallen to his knees before the throne and was taking his master’s dick into his mouth. It was warm and salty and rubbery, filling his throat, the taste as familiar as anything else the boy had ever known in his life. A thousand times before he had done it, ten thousand. Naruto closed his eyes.
Behind him, a more exotic kind of fellatio was evidently taking place, for Nyuka was screaming. His strangled cries seemed to be both pleasure and pain. “Yes!” the poet cried. “Yesss!”
“Blood is running down your thigh, Nyuka,” Sawar observed dryly.
“That’s the fun of it, my dear minister! Yes, honey, like that, oh yes, harder! Harder! Yesss! Inari-san! Join me, won’t you?”
Just then Hayate Inari shrieked, a high-pitched squeal to rival that of any virgin girl. There was much clapping and laughing in the background.
Naruto’s fingers were stroking his master’s testicles and his mouth plunged down the master’s shaft with every one, sucking, swallowing. But the Warlord paid his slaveboy little mind. Instead he said, “Do you see, Sawar? Even the skin of the girl’s hand is sharp enough to draw blood.”
“Yes, like barbed sandpaper. Her handjobs are as deadly as her teeth.” There was another scream, this time from yet another noble. “And she is much stronger than a normal man. One wonders if the use of these bloodline creatures has been misaligned. Sex slaves are easy to come by... inhumanly powerful soldiers, much less so.”
“I remember the first time I saw a bloodline child,” said Uchiha Itachi. As the man spoke his erection grew hard as iron, a huge thick sword inside the boy’s throat. “Many years ago, before the Night of Blood, when my first Naruto was still by my side. A willful slave, that one. Always rebellious. Defiant. One day, during my father’s last campaign against the Senju, he ran away. Thinking he would go to the enemy, I suppose. I chased Naruto to a cave in the forest. Yet when I arrived I found the cave already surrounded with dead soldiers. Hundreds. Can you guess how they died, Sawar?”
“Teeth, my lord?”
“Bones. They had been impaled by spears of bone. Bones that grew from the ground. Bones tall as trees and strong as steel. And when I went inside the cave I saw the source of them all was a dead little girl. The bones stuck right out from her like a spiderweb. My Naruto was huddled next to the girl, crying. What happened? I asked him. She killed everyone, the boy replied. And you? I asked. And he said, she would have killed me too, except her heart stopped. My slaveboy never tried to run away again.”
That was when the fire started.
Naruto could not see it, at first, but he could hear the screams. They were coming from outside the Keep, cries of confusion and panic. And beneath the screams, the soft cracking hiss of flames, of ashen paper and burning wood.
“The Demon Fox, Warlord!” a fearful voice shouted. Doors were bursting open, footsteps were striking on stone. “He is in the palace! He’s coming here!”
For a moment Birthright Keep was as silent as a tomb. No music, no laughing, no words.
Then all at once everyone in the Keep began to scream, too, matching their voices to those outside in some kind of hideous animal chorus. And at the same moment they began to run. The bare feet of hundreds of suddenly sober people slapped the floor madly. “Lord Itachi, we must retreat!” shouted the monk Maito Gai.
For once Naruto agreed with the cowards. The boy pulled his mouth from his master’s penis, tried to stand up, fumbling for his sword. “Master—”
But before he could say another word Uchiha Itachi grabbed his slaveboy by the hair, yanking him back. “Finish sucking, Naruto,” said the man coldly, his eyes gleaming in the flames like emerald suns, his terrible scar as black and deep as the void at the end of the world. “I am not yet satisfied. No evening demon will interrupt me.”
And even as the walls glowed with huge red flames and the air filled with the cries of desperate dying men, the Warlord Uchiha Itachi sat on his gleaming golden throne and clutched Naruto by the hair and made him finish. With every lunge of Naruto’s mouth, every choking swallow of that huge rough cock, the screams came closer. “Oh, yes,” the man whispered. “Oh, yes. An evening demon. Let him come to his fate.”
Next: CHAPTER EIGHT: “Heart’s End”
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Birthright