It had been a tiring day...or night...or was it day?
How long was it since the beginning of your break..vacation, was it? Whether set by the system you belonged to, or taken by yourself, your interruption of your own life found you drifting..
At first it started with the random mention of a TV show. Then curiosity slowly crept through your fingertips and onto the keyboard. You found your show, in its original language. The sheer miracle of how its episodes found their way from a once-only TV broadcast in a country halfway across the globe to your computer screen was dwarfed only by the fact that it was uploaded weekly, right after it was broadcast, translated into and subtitled in at least five languages, uploaded for viewing or downloading on countless sites.
The simultaneous effort of many people moving with one purpose, when directed towards other things, usually leads to things like revolutions, discoveries..
Heh- but this is a cultural revolution, right? To parents and colleagues, you'd describe it as a pastime, a pleasure activity. However, to them, it does not make grades or money, it is not quality time together, so it is weird to say the least.
But you are not alone.
You found thousands, tens of thousands of people like you who enjoyed it...Hold on, this thing was actually from a written text/manga. Yet another miracle of crossing culture: enter the world of scanlations.
Oh, you were SO affected by what you watched/read. You need to express your reaction, but to whom?
Surely not your 'real-life people' - you'd be outcast.
Who better than the tens of thousands of strangers like yourself?
Random comments lead to detailed ones, to fanlistings, to blogs with pictures ripped from obscure corners of the internet, AMVs, Fanfiction..
Onto the forums you go..and, oh, shock. What was that image? Wait, wait, no, that character couldn't- wouldn't- or could they do that?
NO. Of course not. No WAY Naruto would be like that. He's way too macho... Come ON, he's just a kid...
Yet that picture was so beautifully drawn. It is Sai, sitting at home, having just had a bath, hair still slightly damp, kneeling at a low table, painting. His brush is still clean, having just been moistened to make a fine tip on a thick brush, which was just about to touch the glossy ink shining in the ink-stone at his side, mimicking his raven locks.
The baby blue yukata he is wearing was not so carefully fastened, it seems.
You look at it again. Ah, the fine detail, the delicate flow of line as the folds of clothing drape across silken skin... His voice in the original was so tempting, too.. and his personality in the storyline is so intriguing, and,... I wonder who else they hooked him up with?
Before long, you found yourself in the strange realm between psychology and reality called Yaoi Fandom. And here you are, reading your way into precisely what you considered disgusting not a very long time ago.
You feel a twinge in a part of you that is never mentioned at table, a twist in your mind that gives you a pleasure as it sucks you a little more into the darkness of your own complex instinct...Tobi's mask comes to mind...Heh. You try to chuckle away your shame.
If your parents and colleagues knew..that you were part of a deeper subculture within a subculture, they wouldn't call it that. Your names for it, the cutoff names -an import of Japan- combined into pairings and trios, terms such as 'fluff', 'lemon' and 'crack' would only make things worse. Drugs? They'd wonder who you're hanging with if you are at home all day.
Staring blankly into the screen before you, you sigh, and sink your head into your arms, feeling hazy..
"What am I doing here?" you mumble.
"My question exactly."
Startled, you raise your head with a slight jolt, crumpling onto the floor in an awkward heap before you realise your desk and chair, your computer, room, as a matter of fact, entire world is not where it was a second ago.
"Kindly leave if you have no business with me."
"Ouff..." You pick yourself up off the floor.
"Disgusting. Take your shoes off. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"
You try to stand up, and in doing so, look up- and freeze, hands on the floor, leaning forward.
"Take them off right there," the velvet bass accosted your ears. "Don't step in this house with them. Carry them to the entrance, and put them on there."
His impeccable features as expressionless as his voice, Sai turns back to his work, the collar of the yukata slipping just a bit over his shoulder.
You cannot believe yourself.
"I don't know who you are or what you want, but you had better leave while you can. "
The very flatness of the voice hit you like a hammer, but to no avail.
"S-Sai?"
The brush falls to the table with a *clack!* the same instant you find yourself pushed uncomfortably back on your knees, a kunai against your throat.
Seemingly useless and bulky in the anime, the heavy blade's bevelled corner pushes against your throat, and it hurts. Your thigh muscles are pulling like mad on your knees: all that sitting-in-chairs is not going to save you tonight.
"I-I..everyone knows you, Sai!" you blurt out.
Mistake. The seemingly blunt corner bites into your soft throat, and blood rises to the occasion.
"Ah!" you close your eyes in pain. When they flicker open, you forget to breathe. His face is barely inches from yours. Deep pools of ink stare at you, so black that you cannot see the pupils of his eyes. In an odd quirk of human nature, your mind makes a note that this is an impossibly rare colour in "real life".
"Who is 'everyone'? What is your organisation? Village?" the voice demands, and this time your eyes shift to his fine, sculpted lips, and you involuntarily gasp in a little air after a moment of holding your breath. This does not go unnoticed, for there is a slight shift in his expression, which relieves you a little, only to be immediately followed by a knowing smirk, which awakens fear.
His eyes trace your gaze halfway, and he smiles, closing his eyes in the odd smirk that feels eerie now that you see it up close.
"E-everyone where I live- no, whom I know.."
"Where do you live and whom do you know?" He asks, eyes snapping open and back to business.
You tell him, and your voice-box feels the grating of the metal.
"Interesting..and what do you have to do with us?"
You are between the pain in your throat, legs, and the mountain of effort that it would take to explain to a fictional character what they are.
"We follow your stories, and have fans of your shinobi.." You explain as best you can, and then inadvertently start pouring out your fandom.
"You mean to say that you mate us with whomever you wish, and lust after us?"
You blush scarlet.
A pause.
"Does it actually arouse you sexually?"
"N-No." He can see clean through you.
"Even this situation?"
You purse your lips and turn your face aside. Your thigh muscles shake slightly every once in a while, unused to the exercise.
"Not even this?" the velvet voice croons, coming closer, pressing the kunai to your throat yet again.
Your hand shoots out and grips his arm that is holding the kunai to your throat, trying to push it off. Oh, the silkiness- you think? Underneath all that smoothness is carefully knotted steel. You might as well push against a rock.
"Ah! No."
"Hmm..I wonder."
And before you know it, his fingers have wormed their way to your vagina, detecting the moisture.
"NO!" you scream, your other arm reaching for his hand, trying to pull it away in vain.
"No?" He leans in closer, his head next to yours, as his fingers find your clitoris. You utter a muffled scream.
"I read that girls mean 'Yes' when they say 'No'. Social code trains them to suppress their desires-" You whimper as he explores the various pleasure-spots in your nether anatomy, tensing and relaxing with every touch and release.
"Girls.." the deep, dark velvet voice caresses, "like this."
Oh, and you do. Your breathing, pulse, and arousal build up all at the same time, working into a slight rhythm. Your hands, which were tightly gripping his forearms a while ago, are merely holding, trying to keep you from falling back. His eyes are continually locked with yours.
Someone seeing you from the outside would feel you melting, with him gauging you neutrally.
"You were looking at my lips a while ago?"
"N-No.."
Round the little mound goes the fingertip.
"No-AH! MMmmmmph!" Your voice is lost in his throat, whence a short groan answers you, making you tingle. You manage to pull your head back, inhaling deeply. "M-hah!"
Suddenly, your throat is relieved from the kunai's pressure. You hear it fall to the floor the same instant his hand pulls your head to his, forcing his tongue in, violating your mouth.
"A-MM!Mmmph!" Your grip tightens on his arms again, trying to twist yourself away from him. Your efforts turn into a writhing, struggling dance.
Your thighs begin to quiver. This time, it is not pain.
He breaks the kiss, your tousled hair still tightly locked in his fingers pressing against your scalp. He eyes you closely while his other hand slowly reaches for the waist of whatever you are wearing, in order to undo it. Your protests only result in his firmly pinning your arms behind your back. He smiles at you.
Releasing one of his hands and making the other grip your wrists, his delicate fingers slip into the knot of his yukata's obi, undoing it in a degenerate gesture of grace, picking it up just before it touches the floor.
The silken skin underneath the yukata glows with a fine sheen of sweat, highlighting the sleek muscles of his chest and abdomen.
Pulling you right up to him, he holds you to himself with one arm, prising one of your arms between your bodies while taking the other behind your back. Having pinned that arm, he takes the other one and does the same. Realising what he is about to do, your eyes widen with panic. You start to struggle, drawing a frown on his face as he presses his face onto your shoulder, trying to get the thin obi around your wrists. Seeing as you are not cooperating, he bites into your shoulder, slightly.
"Ah!" You let your guard down for a split-second.
That is all he needs. He makes the first loop around your wrists.
"No! …Ah! …AH! …A-!" as he proceeds to nibble on your collarbone, neck, and ear, all the while tightening his loop around your wrists, pressing his hips against yours, thrusting forward each time you yell, not unlike a spider preparing its prey.
He finishes tying you up, and you look up at him with a mixed expression of defeat, curiosity, expectation, and embarrassment at having been found out. He smiles at you, cupping your cheek in a gentle caress. He leans in, and kisses you softly, then deeply.
You yield willingly to this, but when his hands slither to whatever you are wearing underneath, your eyes snap open.
"No!" He works deliberately, systematically, ignoring you with technical professionalism.
"SAI! NO!"
Off they fall, down they go, rumpled down to your knees.
"N-UMMPH" He fills your mouth while pulling you up by the collar high enough to clear your knees of your clothing with the other hand.
You are panicking now. No, this is going too far.
"Sai, stop, please- !" Your words stop with your breath as he pulls up your panties from the side, so that they tug at the cleft between your legs.
"Unh-Sai.."
"Yes?" A butterfly kiss lands on your neck making you close your eyes. He draws back slightly, taking in your expression. A small kiss lands briefly on your open lips, making your heart twinge.
"Please.."
"Yes, I know," the deep velvet croons in your ear the same instant you feel something hard go down the front of your panties, ripping right through the very wet middle of its fabric. The kunai comes out with a slight jerk, and flies across the room, clattering on the floor.
He widens your thighs, and find his way to your entrance. The tip of his penis touching your clitoris is maddening, and you cannot stop a slight moan from escaping your lips, head thrown back slightly, eyes closed. He smiles. It was a good job he read those books Kakashi-san gave him.
He grips you by the hips, and starts shunting back and forth, making your breasts bounce while rubbing against your now very dilated, very sore, very wet and very happy little clitoris. Each movement brings forth a new sound from your throat, sounds you read about, but did not know people made for real. Your mind begins to fog slowly, as your body enters 'Autopilot Mode', naturally catching and following his rhythm.
You just settle into this state of extended pleasure when an intruder to your body brings with it a shock of feeling the presence of something entering it. Your eyes open, your consciousness returning to the surface, only the depth of the thrust hits a sweet spot inside you, causing a slight pain on its way in.
"N-No…Ah…Hhha…Hhhha…Uuuh…"
As the tempo begins to settle yet again, you find yourself gradually tilting backwards.
You open your eyes to find Sai has lowered you, making your spine undulate with each thrust. You close your eyes, and throw your head back, leaving yourself to the flow. You are brought back to the surface moments later by a short yet deep groan from Sai, and you open your eyes to see him covered in sweat, face flushed, eyes glazed, mouth slightly open. A tingle zips through your vaginal muscles, electrifying them into a twitch, making him moan.
"Oooaahh!"
Suddenly his grip tightens, bruising into your skin as he thrusts hard and deep, giving you a renewed shock of pleasure, which your system responds to, making him groan in return.
A spark flies in the instinct-darkened void of your mind, and your consciousness completely abandons the present. Mind disappears, bodies become one. And, in the middle of that immaterial darkness, a tangible red haze of pleasure begins to build itself behind your closed eyelids, gradually covering most of your inner vision as you become more and more acutely aware of the physical pleasure your body is going through. Your hearing seems to recover itself as well, for you notice your chorus of groans, a strange duet.
"UUUuuuunnhhhh!"
Realising his enjoyment brings you back to the red haze, which grips you completely this time, thrashing your body in every direction at once, hips grinding upwards until your body completely ceases to know itself.
"Hha…Hhha…Hhhaaa….ah…Ah…Ah…Ah…Ah!...Ah! …AH! …AH! AHH!...AAHHH! AAAHHHHHHHHH!"
You scream, throwing your head back, he groans intensely, face contorted into a grimace of pleasure, eyes closed, mouth agape, he starts to tremble in a series of jerks as a white flame of pleasure burns through your entire womb, making all your internal muscles contract in climax. He follows you as you both go through the remainder of the spasms of pleasure, gradually ebbing to a warm glow.
Sweat covers both of you, and he smiles weakly as he supports your back, bringing you up to himself in an embrace, hugging you tightly. He then presses you down onto the floor, your legs somehow finding their way. The throbbing in your womb, usually a nuisance when it happens under other circumstances, quietens down beneath his weight. He is surprisingly heavy. That must be muscle mass talking. At 17 he weighs the same as an average man. You try to breathe against it, enjoying resistance against its pressure while listening to his heavy breathing, savouring his helplessness despite his strength.
Breathing heavily, his deep voice resounds in his chest, reaching your ear as if from far away.
"Hh…Hh…So…Hh..girls can be enjoyable even if they are ugly."
That hurts.
You frown and try to throw him off, suddenly remembering your arms beneath you.
Without lifting his head from beside yours, he answers with a thrust, hitting the fabled 'Black Pearl' or 'G-Spot' again, making you gasp.
"Umh," you moan slightly in protest.
He thrusts again, pinning you down hard.
"…" Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. You cannot pinpoint the pleasure and pain.
He lifts his head up, increasing the pressure on your lower abdomen, while relieving your breasts.
When you open your eyes, you find his eyes watching you, softened, shining.
You lock gazes for a long time.
"Hey, Ugly. Do you have a name?"
You get very upset, and try to fight, this time tears running down your cheeks.
"Hey."
It is his voice that holds you this time.
"Do you have a name?"
Looking away, you mumble it.
"Come again?"
He leans over, bringing his ear closer. You tell him.
He pulls out of you, and raises himself above you, watching you, even though you don't look at him.
He says your name, carefully, gently, testing it in his mouth, as if afraid to break it.
He repeats it.
"Did I get it right?"
You shake your head, still looking away, looking really cute.
He makes you repeat it, then he repeats it, getting it right, and catching the approval from the slight relaxation of your face.
Once mastered, he learns to relish the sound of it, he rolls it in his mouth, tasting it again and again, breathing it.
Your name sounds again in that soft, deep voice. A kiss brushes against your neck.
Again, your name.
Again, a butterfly kiss.
Your heart starts to give a slight squeeze every time he speaks your name, causing your tears to overflow, falling with each kiss as you blink at the touch of his lips.
Your name becomes a chant as he slowly lifts you up, and undoes your wrists, rubbing them as he brings your hands forward. He lifts your hands to his lips and kisses them intently, closing his eyes.
Holding them both for a while looking into your eyes, he takes your hands and wraps them around his waist.
Your fingers are locked limply until he holds you tight, and says, "Stay here."
That is when you release your hands completely, pulling them in toward yourself, and crumple into tears, bawling like a baby while he cradles you, kissing your hair, rocking you gently.
His affection gives you strength, and your arms find their way around him, hugging him tightly. His eyes open wide.
"…"
You look up at him, smiling.
"We have a lot to learn from each other, don't we?" he asks, eyes deep and infinite.
You lean your head on his shoulder with a sigh, falling asleep.
When you wake up, you are at your desk. Where they don't feel numb, your arms feel sore.
Lifting your gaze, you see this page.
Two months later, you find yourself having to explain to those around you how you managed to get pregnant while at home the whole time, and why you cannot explain why you want to keep the baby.