
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/194299.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Naruto
  Relationship:
      Uchiha_Itachi/Uchiha_Sasuke
  Character:
      Uchiha_Itachi
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-05-04 Words: 809
****** The Roles and the Lines ******
by Chichirinoda
Summary
     Written for Zen for her birthday! Her request was ItaSasu: starting
     off non-con and ending sweet. I think I delivered.
Notes
     This may seriously be the most twisted thing I've ever written, and
     that's saying something.
He couldn't move, and he couldn't see, the thick cloth of a blindfold bound
tightly enough across his eyes that it made his head throb with every rapid
beating of his heart. He twisted against his bindings, his arms fastened with
thick leather cords above his head and his ankles tied spread wide by ropes
tied somewhere beneath him. And he screamed, he screamed obscenities at his
tormenter, who only chuckled softly, darkly, and stroked light fingers down his
chest.
"Sasuke, if you don't be quiet, I'll have to gag you," came Itachi's voice from
above him. He twisted and opened his mouth to scream again, knowing there was
no one to hear, and that anyone who might hear him in this place would
certainly never raise a finger to help him. But something soft was stuffed
harshly into his mouth, a ball of fabric that tasted of sweat - a sock? - and
made his tongue turn cottony.
He bit down, sharply, and was rewarded with a hiss and the taste of blood
before the older man could pull his hand away.
A slap rocked his head to one side and he whimpered, his cheek now throbbing to
match his head. No, he couldn't whimper, couldn't show any weakness, not in
front of him.
Was he angry now? From the way he roughly pushed his knees apart even further,
the ropes cutting into his ankles as the older man pushed his knees up, he
thought he might be. He wished he could show his contempt of Itachi in his
face, glare at him and sneer, but the blindfold hid too much of his face, and
the gag forced his mouth open, and all he could do was concentrate on breathing
through his nose and trying not to choke.
"That's better." The tone was almost a purr, satisfied as a cat. "You're so
much more agreeable when you're silent."
The rough hands, calloused from years of killing, pushed his knees up a little
more. His feet were beginning to tingle from lack of blood as the cords cut
into him, but that was forgotten as something thick and slick with lube pushed
into his entrance. He yelled again, the sound muffled by the gag, feeling as
though his body might split open. He hadn't even prepared him, hadn't even
taken a moment to let him adjust - but of course, why would he?
As his tormenter fucked him, he writhed, his body twisting under the weight of
him, and against the bonds. The sounds of pain he made were choked and muffled,
but they came through, and he screamed all the louder when a hand curled around
his cock and began to stroke, pleasure adding to the pain.
Despite it all - because of it all? - he was hard. Hard and weeping thick
pearls of fluid. The shame of it burned him like a flame, and he could feel his
cheeks heating as the older man noticed and chuckled.
"You were too young when I left, weren't you Sasuke?" the purr came, close by
his ear as his torturer leaned over him deeply, his hips snapping forward again
and again. Somehow, despite the arousal and pleasure he had to have been
feeling, the older man scarcely sounded out of breath. He was in total control,
and relishing the pain he brought him. "But how many times have you dreamed of
this? How many times did you want to be fucked by your own brother?"
Shut up! he wanted to shriek, but instead he was coming, his body bowing hard
and writhing, spasming under the other man's weight. The older man groaned and
the lips moved down, pressing hard into his throat and leaving a mark on his
pale skin as fluids flooded into his body.
He hated himself totally in that moment, a complete emotion so visceral it was
almost fetishistic in itself.
Then the emotions were ebbing away, draining out like water, as if he were
simply too tired to maintain their energy. The orgasm left him limp, and he
sagged, not even moving as the older man pulled the gag away and unbound him,
leaving his eyes for last. Only when he was completely free did he let the
genjutsu fade and he looked up, blinking in the light.
Madara smirked down at him. "Ah," he whispered. "You are a twisted one, my dear
nephew. Did I play my role well, Itachi-kun? Did I say the lines just the way
you would have said them?" he murmured, that same purr, but a different voice.
Deeper. He gathered him close, stroking Itachi's hair gently, like a dutiful
lover.
"Mmm," Itachi said, not wanting to talk. Talking would bring back the shame and
hatred, and for now at least, he was at peace. Something like peace, anyway. As
close as he could come.
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