A Battle Won
Disclaimer: Naruto's Kishimoto's property, and I'm not making any money off this.
Warning: Morbid Content.
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Wanton colours of battle lay tucked away beneath the cover of dry sands. Sweltering heat enveloped them, brows wet with toiling sweat. Heavy smog lifted from the silent corpses, and a mighty warrior rose from it, looming over them all like an enraged Kami.
Lightning sparked and cracked behind it. It stood tall, sturdy arms and legs poised to strike them down and judge them here and now. It took one step and the earth groaned and creaked and let out sorrowful moans of protest. Mountains shuddered, backs shivered, sweat slid down the bodies . . . it was monstrous!
On a night like this, standing in the light that spilt from the ripe moon and winds from the high tides, it was a beast of omen—a tall shadow stood, menacing, towering, threatening. They all cowered like little insects, skittering across the undulating sands to find refuge, but there was none! It was here to annihilate, end this war once and for all.
Another step and tremors shook their bones and fleshes. Few men screamed, their bodies trapped under the black mass of its thick shadow. The moon was gone, hiding behind the chaos filling up the translucent structure, blue pulsing in its veins like a cool fire.
Its mechanical hand moved, sinews as thick as lush spring trees, and grabbed hold of the sword on its back. A flame burnt tall on its ornamented pommel, mightier than the fire that burnt in their breasts. It would consume them, lay waste to their forms, and bleed them here good for all eyes to see. The Kages were outmatched—they never stood a chance!
They saw their coming demise in the smooth eyes of the colossus—a dead gaze greeted them. It cared not for their weak hearts. Good and messy would be their deaths, and harrowing and formless their bodies. Everything would be buried deep into the earth for all eternity.
"We h-have to . . . " Hinata stuttered and trailed off into dead silence, her Byakugan looking through the gauzy trousers and the fine ripples in the ethereal garment. Something was twitching there, growing, struggling to get out. With a godly shudder, a mountain-sized bulge appeared in the pants and strained the seams there.
Threads flew out from the place where a fly should have been—the style of the pants was ancient—and fell down on their heads.
"Something's coming!" Sakura screamed and all the Kages tumbled back. Alas, it was a little late for any swift actions.
It sprang out, mighty like the spear, and the flowing pants fell down to the warrior's ankles in a crumpled heap. The plump head had just a little pearl of a warrior's arousal. Madara gave a slow shake of his head—the battle's heat had roused a desire out of him. In his life, he sated it with whores. Tonight, his Susanoo was more honest than he!
And the cock rose; up and up it went as though trying to reach for the stars, wearing thick airy veins on the flesh—ridges and bumps like roads. It was huge! It shook and shuddered the way his own did for a cunt in the past. The crowd by its feet screamed.
"Dear Sage, save us!" Onoki yelled, voice hoarse and aged, hiding such envy. He needed a little help from his son to urinate these days. If only he had one of these . . .
And then Madara drew something back from the colossus's core, and the heat from the cock—still sniffing the air for completion like a whelp—vanished. Veins shrunk and its head stalled like a bird—quite suddenly. The limp thing flopped down, and its shadow grew bigger and bigger till the whole world became black.
The hefty warrior's muscled-legs sagged, as if taken by surprise by an intrusion from his master. It slumped down onto his knees, and the cock fell down on the Men running with all their might to get out of its shadow. Too late—too late!
A loud thud, which rent asunder two mountains and sent their peaks flying into the air, went crashing through the dark, dirt, and dust. The cock fell straight onto the Kages and their shinobi and ground them into dust. Onoki did not even get a chance to feel a creaky pain throb in his hip, softly.
The warrior sat still, and its mountain-sized softening winkle just lay there, in the trench it had dug with the force of the impact, for a few moments till Madara's annoyance became apparent on his Edo-Tensai mapped countenance. He commanded the giant to rise and so it did: it rose back to its sturdy feet, drew the cock into its big hand, and pumped it once to luxuriate in the texture made smoother by shinobi-martyrdom, dragging up the slime made of flesh, bones, and hair with its languid motions.
Naruto bawled on the hill-top and reeled off many names: Sakura, Hinata, and Hanabi; Kages, Kakashi, and Gai; so many men . . . dead and turned into a stinky, smelly, and gooey mush beneath—for the lack of the better word—Perfect Susanoo's cock! Sasuke looked on.
The ancient Uchiha patriarch had mopped up the mess all right and left him that much closer to his goal. The fool! A smirk disturbed his cool features. Jūgo just stood there with a dead-pan expression by Sasuke's side. "Perfect Susanoo sure is mighty," he spoke in a whispery voice and petted the birds sitting inside his pockets.
Perfect Susanoo gave the titanic-cock a little jerk and sent a shower of shinobi pieces towards the screaming crowd below. Then it bent down and pulled up the pants and tied the knot. Madara was not too worried about his dignity. After all, if you saw it once, you never lived to tell the tale!
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The End