Alrighty! I've worked up enough motivation and ideas to write a sequel to The Fall of the House of Uchiha. So, here it is! It takes place 2 years after the original story; Sasuke is 15 and Itachi is 19. Love it, like it, hate it? Leave a review and let me know please. =)
Disclaimers: I own nothing.
Warnings: Uhm, child abuse, Uchihacest (aka Wincest :P), prostitution and other seedy dealings, noncon, and other general unpleasantries? These apply for the whole story, not just this chapter.
It was the more decrepit part of town. The air reeked of blood, booze, and sex. Gunshots could be heard at regular intervals, along with the odd scream or too, but never any police sirens. No law enforcement dare enter this area; it would only result in a few extra deaths for the day.
Prostitutes, whether forced, desperate, or just plain shameless dotted the poorly lit street corners and alleyways. Many appeared old, haggard, maybe even a little frightening. On the other end of the spectrum, some appeared far too innocent for this line of work.
Like him.
The young boy appeared to be not too far in his teen years, 15 or so. His shirt, far too large for his unhealthily scrawny frame hung off his shoulders, worn badly. It fell down to his upper thigh, leaving no need for pants; just a simple pair of briefs to prevent any accidental viewings. He was scantily clad enough to be desired, but wanted enough mystery to be an enticing purchase. The summertime allowed him to comfortably get away with a wardrobe like this, earning him a good amount of extra money. A collar around his neck showed he wasn't a free agent; he had a pimp, who most likely served as his master as well. A leash hung from it, too.
A client approached. The man was of a decent build, but his appearance wasn't noteworthy in any sense; not appallingly ugly, but not radiating beauty unseen before.
"You want Sasuke, eh? You have a good eye. $300 for the night." Teens were rare and much sought after, so they brought a good price. Unfortunately, the boy didn't get to see much of the earnings.
His pimp was a lecherous man, with inhumanely pale skin and just as equally monstrous eyes, like a snake. He had long hair and wore eye makeup, making him look unnatural in every sense of the word.
The man eagerly handed the pimp a wad of cash, hungrily eyeing his new toy, already hunting his prey. He looked so innocent, but word got around quick that he was awfully experienced.
The master pulled the boy up by his leash, and handed it to the client. The man roughly dragged him to the nearby motel, dirty enough to make the boy feel even filthier. He already had been touched, violated everywhere by several people today.
He was used to it though. He was made into a cheap whore long before he entered the profession. At least it wasn't anyone he'd have to see regularly. At least it wasn't his own family, who was supposed to nurture him, care for him, love him. Besides, he wasn't of a legal working age yet, and though he was a gifted child, he hadn't completed nearly enough education to provide for himself with a job that was anything close to respectable.
And he had no family left.
He loathed the man responsible for this. If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be subject to this horrible job. And to think he thought he cared.
The man roughly pushes him onto the bed, bringing the boy out of his daydreams. Soon, what little clothing Sasuke has on is ripped off. He lets out a frightened whimper.
Even though he's been doing this for nearly two years, he still can't get used to it.
"Please… no…"
The weak pleads turn his clientele on even more, to his dismay. The man is entered in him, with only a small amount of lube. No protection. He thrusts into him, grabbing some of the boy's hair in the heat of the moment. He cums, leaves, and Sasuke feels like a dirty, used whore again.
If only he could shower. Two years ago, at least he got comfort, a warm bed, and a shower.
He lays on the bed for a moment, dejected, and then limps out of the motel room. Semen is still dripping down his leg as he returns to his master. This turns the old snake of a man on every time; he's sure to get an extra rough fucking from him tonight, and at no charge nonetheless.
Itachi is in the same area, unbeknownst to either sibling, though on a different side. He sits at the counter of a bar, sorrowfully drinking the whiskey. The guilt still haunts him today. If only he knew.
