Fall of the Uchiha | By : c0p13r Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 21832 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Naruto' and make no money off this story |
Fall of the Uchiha
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“Hello, old man~!” Kushina shouted, announcing herself with a high-raised hand and a great, hungry smile on her face. “I’m back~!”
Teuchi turned from his broth, also looking happy at her arrival. “Oh, Kushina-chan! You here early! It can’t be midday yet, can it?”
“Close enough,” she jeered with her toothy, inelegant-but-still-charming smile. She put her forearms together on the counter and leaned in. “What do you recommend today, huh?”
With serving bowl already wedge in the crook of his elbow, Teuchi had already begun to pour. “Salt ramen has never been turned down, has it?” he jested, already tossing in ingredients before she’d even made up her mind. But she was a patron of his shack for years; decades even. He had learned what to throw at her and what to suggest. Sweet little Ayame’s soba phase was not a peaceful time. “Ramen!” Kushina had barked, pounding both fists down on the bar so hard that the bowl shook and Ayame was forced to retract her suggestion.
The bowl set down in front of Kushina, and she sparkled with a thrill, eyes jeweled with delight as she found the meal she’d been wanting. Past her thousandth bowl in life, but Teuchi found her reaction a great source of compliment. He’d been doing something right to retain the late Fourth’s wife at his counter.
She sang her praise, praying over the bowl, and took her first bite with great reverence. Teuchi always liked to watch that first wash of blushing pleasure upon her face as she loudly ate the noodles. But his attention on her could only last so long before addressing her companion.
He wiped absently at the spot next to Kushina, clearing away the absent mess for a second guest. “Should I pour another bowl?”
“Hmm?” Kushina looked up from her serving, momentarily baffled by the question until he nodded behind her. “Oh! Slllrp! Ah~. No, none for her.” She swiveled on her barstool, facing the silent maid behind her. Her glee shifted, the tone of her smile darker. “I made her breakfast already, but I wanted ramen.”
“No Naruto?” Teuchi could not overlook his second most-devoted customer, though his head remained turned to the woman waiting on Kushina’s call.
Kushina swung back to him and outright frown. “None for him either.” She smacked a fist hard on the wood. “I made him dinner last night! A big dinner! I still caught him sneaking a cup of ramen at night! I told you,” she continued, wagging her finger at him, “he eats too much ramen.”
The kunai calling the shuriken black…
Teuchi held any comment of Naruto and ramen at bay. Kushina’s word was final, and he wouldn’t test her; a lesson hard, but quickly learned by the woman in back. Beautiful, proud Uchiha Mikoto. She was a gem, even when wed to Fugaku. It was perhaps her kind demeanor and dark beauty that saved her; none could bear lose her from the world so soon. But the price had to be paid…
“Mikoto-san looks very lovely today,” Teuchi blurted out, leaning on an elbow, also knowing better than to speak to Mikoto directly. The mother of two might as well have been isolated on a glacier, unable to hear or respond unless word came from the one lazily holding her leash.
How could she look any different than yesterday? Kushina had banished clothes from her closet, parading her around in utter humiliation by the leash that clipped onto the thick, padded collar around her neck. Never had she needed to be yanked; Mikoto kept pace and distance with Kushina, never letting the leash tauten or go overly-slack. She had learned fast the first day. Kushina had laughed, saying that the Uchiha were always quick learners.
So Mikoto silently stood at the entrance, backed by the banner of Ichiraku, giving her owner room to enjoy her food. Her eyes remained closed, her mind in meditation as she let the cook and her mistress speak of her.
“You like her?” Kushina smirked instead of smiled. She turned to her naked friend and looked her over, top to bottom. Her breasts were marvelous things; hanging with weight, but still plump and holding firm to her chest. Tight everywhere else, even at her wide hips and thick thighs. The patch of hair had grown out since Kushina had first stripped her down, but she had allowed grooming during showers.
No doubt Old Man Teuchi had thought about payment with her before, Kushina speculated. No man looked at a naked woman and did not wonder…
She tugged lightly on the leash. “Mikoto-san~” she called out, a familiar tone from days when they were friends. “Come here~”
Mikoto went into motion, a porcelain statue come to life, eyes still gently shut. She came next to Kushina and waited, kneeling only when she was instructed to. “On the foot rest,” she was bidden, and complied. With her knees propped by the bar lining the underside of the counter, her chest was put at level with the top. Her lush breasts rested next to Kushina’s bowl, coming down on wood with the softest thump. When Kushina took another rope from her serving – a messier slurp than normal – hot juice splattered atop the pale mounds, but Mikoto did not flinch when her tender skin was burned.
“Hmm,” hummed the chef, ignoring how his daughter noted his interest and rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, very lovely. But let me…” He went at her bust with his cleaning cloth to get the spatters on her flesh.
A normal rap from a chopstick would do little, but Kushina was somehow very fluid and made the simple whack sting a bit more across the top of his hand. “Now, now, old man!” Her finger was wagging again, her eyes strangely soft. “She’s not for you to touch.”
Teuchi forced a chuckle, still wincing and nursing at the thin, bright-red mark throbbing atop his hand. “Right, right, sorry,” he apologized, even if it was obvious that he would’ve been less sorry if he had committed the actual offense.
Poor widower; Kushina shared some sympathy with him, but Mikoto was pledged property of hers. Hers to own, hers to touch…
She put a cheek to hand, flashing him a playful look. “Would you like to see what happens when Mikoto-san is touched?” She didn’t allow him to answer, even if it was an obvious one. She raised her left hand from its idle position on the counter, loosely holding the leash, and lightly touched two fingertips to the soft flesh of Mikoto’s right breast. The Uchiha did not respond, not even a blush, though busy Ayame took time enough to blush for her.
With feather caresses, Kushina enacted circles at her light brown areola, deliberately passing by the nubby center. Over and over, she traced the same rounded lines along the smooth skin until it started to contract. For the first time, Mikoto wavered, her eyes screwing and the line of her mouth quivering. She held in a whimper, but her body reacted to Kushina’s torturous movements until her nipple puckered out fully; a fat nub holding out against the rest of her plump breast.
Kushina seemed to demand some sense of symmetry, but haste as well. She stretched her arm across Mikoto’s sternum to the other teat. This one, however, was not coaxed with light touched. It was pinched hard and twisted. Thankfully, the air was crisp and it did not take long for the twin to also harden.
With a laugh and a slap to that other breast, Kushina returned her hand in front of her and looked to Teuchi for a reaction. Not surprising that he had shamelessly grasped at his crotch, chewing back a groan with less success than Mikoto. He might’ve gone on if Ayame hadn’t smacked his shoulder and reminded him that they were working. “Of course,” he said, partly wheezing and wiping the back of his thick forearm across his wrinkled brow. He was setting intentions in mind, things he’d do alone as he recalled Mikoto’s breasts on his counter and Kushina’s play with them.
He looked at his redheaded guest, his face shiny and red. He might’ve run a mile if she didn’t know any better. “I’ll get started on a fresh bowl for you, Kushina-chan.” Yes, he knew her well. The bowl in front of her was just the beginning.
Kushina, leaning on her propped hand still, giggled. She regarded the ridge along his inseam, prominent even against his apron, with polite interest. Yes, Mikoto was surely beautiful. “Thanks, old man.” And then she came back to her first serving.
Three servings and a grateful exhale later, Kushina threw money down on the counter and thanked Teuchi for getting her day started. “Any time,” he said cheerily, not even bothering to make sure she paid for all she’d taken. She got away with things like that with the Mikoto discount.
“Come on, Mikoto-san” was all that needed to be said for the Uchiha matron to pick herself up from her sore knees. The bar had left pink, uncomfortable imprints in her smooth legs, but her steps didn’t hitch. She just crossed her hands in front of her – a good way to hide her obsidian muff – and marched with the enthusiasm of a funeral procession. Her breasts came together between her arms, but she never minded whoever might look.
In these long months, she’d learned that many were not averse to visually objectifying her. The Bloody Tomato warded away foul behavior and gestures, but Mikoto had kept her eyes open long enough to see when husbands and fathers would turn just the same as bachelors to look. She then closed her eyes to them all and secluded herself from judgment.
Mothers would often bring children to breast in her passing to protect their innocent, but whispers would follow in her wake; explanation and vowed resentment. The Uchiha had fallen from grace.
Mikoto was glad, at least, that her two sons were far from Konoha, far from her degradation.
“Hi, Kushina-san!”
Mikoto knew to stop when she heard that voice; the voice of the Inuzuka pup. As every day, he came to bid hello to his friend’s mom. The reasons were obvious. Mikoto waited for command.
Kushina welcomed Kiba’s landing; he’d come down from the rooftops, thudding with a dusty entrance atop his steed-like canine. She remembered when Kiba first started showing off Akamaru as a pup, proud to have finally made a canine companion. Inuzuka were not assigned mutts; they had to find each other.
But when it came to greeting Kushina – and of course Mikoto – he behaved like Akamaru did not exist. He leapt off the mongrel and hurried to Kushina, grinning in that goofy way, unable to hide his excitement of seeing a real, naked lady. Tsume had berated him once, but Kushina could never bring herself to scold him. In his pitiful, pubescent need, she could almost say he was charming.
“Crossing over the houses again, Kiba?” Kushina flicked at his sensitive nose. “People will get mad at all the pawprints you two leave.”
“Nah! I was just on my way to the gate!” ‘I’, not ‘we’; and the gate was nearer to the Inuzuka compound unless one took a massive and unnecessary detour.
Naruto had warned her about Kiba; embarrassed, but he did warn her. Of course, what woman would not be wary of a male Inuzuka in the starting stages of puberty? If she threw him a straw dummy with any vaguely feminine parts, she’d bet that he’d go for it. But here, he needn’t fantasize. Kushina had given him and all other men of the village the opportunity to not have to imagine.
“You should take Naruto with you two,” Kushina suggested, drawing Akamaru back into focus for him. “He trains alone since Sasuke-chan left.”
The mention of her son made Mikoto’s eyes open; just slightly, barely enough to make out the color of her irises.
“Hmph! I invite him sometimes, but he just wants to be alone.” Kiba spoke with his hands on his hips, turning away as he thought on the whiskered blond. He had honestly tried with Naruto, but his attraction to Kushina and Mikoto as well was not a good incentive for Naruto to want to spend time with him.
Kushina giggled sweetly, and Kiba looked like he’d turn to mush. “I’ll talk to him. He shouldn’t neglect his friends, after all.” She reached out. Kiba flinched, expecting her to touch his arm suggestively, but she meant for his canine, rubbing the space between his floppy brown ears. “Right, Akamaru?”
Akamaru made an appreciative groan, tilting his head with her scratches. Kiba glowered enviously at his mutt. Companion or not, he wanted to kick at the dog’s hindquarters.
“Mikoto-san!” Honeysweet voice with naught but ill-intent behind it; Mikoto resealed her eyelids and waited. “Would you like to show them your imitation of Akamaru again?”
Kiba’s face lit up, sucking back his drool. Kushina was so kind to him, knowing how to give him a treat. She wanted to shame Mikoto, and for Kiba – who would not recognize the shame of it – it was good sport.
Knowing what was expected of her, Mikoto silently assumed the posture, going down to her knees first, and then planting her hands forward. Her long black hair slipped from her creamy shoulders to hang and drag along the dirt road. She might’ve looked eerie if the brazenness of her body did to distract the majority of attention.
Nothing to block her breasts like this. They hung like small, plump milk melons from her chest, stiffened nipples pointing to the ground. Her poise was sleek, not sagging as a person with lost pride and hope would. Somehow, she still clutched onto Uchiha decorum.
With a throat feeling dry as sandpaper, Kiba swallowed loudly as he watched Mikoto assume all fours. He could not look away, though he spoke to Kushina. “C-can I walk you home… Kushina-san?” His eyes pulled from Mikoto with difficulty.
And Kushina laughed. “Weren’t you on your way to the gate?” She looked down at the woman reined at her heel. “Come, Mikoto-san.” She walked, but until she was permitted to stand again, Mikoto crawled on all fours, presenting herself as less than human.
There had been no clear declination, so Kiba invited himself to saunter after them. A limp to his right leg was obvious, the reason even more so. He did not try to walk astride them. He let his feet drag until he was a good way behind them, the best vantagepoint of observing Mikoto. Those pert cheeks that came together tightly while standing; bent over, hole and mound were presented. He enjoyed watching her ass in motion, and would stare intently at her center. He had wanted to know a woman, but lacked the look of Uchiha and the charm of Yamanaka. Mikoto was a goal, but then, so was Kushina.
His eye strayed from the nude woman’s posterior to the other mom’s. Tight-fitting spandex, black, down to mid-shin; the spandex seemed to hold her cheeks together, but their own tightness created that deep crease. Damn Naruto for living with the two most gorgeous women in Konoha!
“Who are you watching back there, Kiba?”
He jolted out of his jealousy and realized that Kushina had glimpsed him over her shoulder. He had blatantly been looking, objectifying her as much as Mikoto, even though Mikoto was a sight ripe for notice. Kiba knew better than to trust a smile from Kushina as a good thing. When he had once tried to cop a feel of Mikoto, Kushina had also flashed a smile before careening him into the nearest wall with a slap. “Oh, Kiba! Don’t act like a pervert~!” Maybe she had been at play, but the Red-Hot Habanero did not play as gently as normal people…
He didn’t want to risk another concussion and week in the hospital; it stole time from ogling Mikoto and all other women. He took one last glance at Mikoto’s mound and the line that split the forest, bearing no pink. “Uh, sorry, Kushina-san,” he said worriedly, carefully backing up with lifted hands. “I guess I lost track of time. I’ll be going to the gate now. Let’s go, Akamaru!” He saddled his dog, and before departing, he reminded Kushina where he would be… “In case you want to send Naruto!” Then he was gone, shouting a ‘Yahoo!’ as Akamaru whisked him away to the forests outside Konoha.
Kiba was gone, and the streets were mostly bare. There was no one to present Mikoto to, so Kushina gave the word for her to stand. Up she came and resumed her previous posture of lamentation. The leash swung low between them. Kushina didn’t bother saying if Mikoto was walking too near or too far, though she was normally very strict with her former friend. Lacking discipline would be mistaken for kindness, and Kushina did not want that. She’d groom Mikoto, she’d feed her and nourish her, she’d pamper her sometimes, but she would not let her believe there was any semblance of friendship between them.
They climbed the stairs that led up to their house; once the Namikaze residence, now solely the two Uzumaki of Konoha. Kushina wasn’t sure what to do with herself today. Ever since Minato’s death, it was harder for her to focus throughout daily life. If not for her dear son, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself. But when they were apart, she had Mikoto…
“I’m back~” she sang as she walked in, trailed by Mikoto who dutifully closed the door behind her and waited at the front step. Kushina kicked off her own sandals; Mikoto was not allowed in until her feet were washed.
Kushina moved about the front room, looking, searching, acting as though Mikoto was not waiting on her. Quickly, her eyebrows furrowed. She stormed over to the hallway and yelled, “You better not still be sleeping, alright?!”
There was silence, then a quiet shuffle and the padding of bare feet before the center room creaked open. “I’m not sleeping,” grumbled a someone who clearly was asleep only seconds ago.
“We’ve already had breakfast, and you can’t be bothered to get up?” Kushina leaned forward, glaring at her son. “Breakfast is the most important meal!”
Naruto walked past her, groggy and heavy-lidded as he slumped by her. He was in his frog pajamas, and his posture hadn’t woken up with him, each foot crawling lazily and heavily. He rubbed at his stiff neck, turning away from his mom and seeing Mikoto standing at the doorway. Naked, like always, but Naruto always tried not to stare.
But he also always blushed when he saw her.
“Good morning… Mikoto-san,” he mumbled out, looking to the side, not expecting a response, respecting her self-imposed silence.
“It’s the afternoon,” Kushina reprimanded him, and then stalked off to her room. “You should eat! And Kiba said he’d be training at the lake! You should go.”
Naruto exhaled, making a very Shikamaru-like face. Maybe he wanted to get out of the house, but it felt like there was nothing waiting for him out there. He just gestated for a moment. Maybe he hadn’t recovered from the berating from last night, when his mom caught him sneaking a cup-o-ramen.
The matter of Kiba and the lake could wait until later. Normally, Mikoto-san would be at his mom’s side always, not linger at the doorway. They’d gone out; Naruto saw the dirt on her knees. His mom must’ve forgotten. More than the emptiness of his stomach, he felt that Mikoto needed her. “Hold on.” With more haste than he gave his mom, he went into the kitchen, pulled out a deep pot, and filled it with water at the sink. This was normally something he watched his mom do, fetching water and clapping it down at Mikoto’s feet before leaving her.
Naruto wasn’t sure he could act so callously. He brought over the pot, hesitated, and then lowered it. What to do next? He had provided a rag, but it felt cruel not to help scrub her feet. It also felt like he was finding a reason to stay and ogle her nakedness. Truthfully, he’d gotten his fill of her body her first day living with him and his widowed mom. To him, there was little to find sexy about his best friend’s mom being utterly disgraced; torn from the Uchiha pedestal to pander as an Uzumaki pet. But his mom insisted, every day.
Naruto needn’t pick up the rag, for Mikoto was practiced and well learned. She dipped her toe in the warm water – which Kushina served either ice cold or scalding hot – and then reached down to start washing the dirt from her blackened feet. Naruto sat back, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but her dangling chest as she scrubbed. Kushina might get mad at him for using a good pot, but to save Mikoto from her wrath, he’d wash it himself before she could complain.
“Um…” Naruto looked around, uncomfortable still as his erection strained up against the looseness of his pajamas. If he stood up, he was afraid of swatting Mikoto accidentally with it, and she shouldn’t have to bear that sort of discomfort. She was drying now. “I’ll… I’ll get you some breakfast… or lunch… if you’re…”
Dry. Mikoto walked by him to attend to Kushina.
Naruto sulked a little. Things weren’t the same. They’d never be the same. Mikoto, who had once looked at him fondly whenever he came over to see Sasuke, had hardened over. The beauty remained; not the warmth.
Sighing, he lifted the pot to carry to the sink. He winced at his erection swung up and banged into the bottom of the tin basin.
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So there are plenty of ways I can work this, though like ‘There’s a hole…’ it relies on story as much as smut. But like 'Completely Unoriginal', I'm not working exclusively on this story's continuance right now, though I have my plans.
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