facebook prompt fill: slavery AU


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when madara woke up, he wasn't in his cell anymore. he was lying on a soft bed, blindfolded and wrist-bound. the air was chill, it felt worse because all he wore was a thin cloth draped waist down. two chakra suppressants circled his upper arms, preventing him from using his full strength. the arm rings felt different. heavier, yet alive.

there's no need to replace them if his master was still that greedy colosseum owner. no one in their right mind willing to pay the price he put on madara—not when he had consecutive winnings since his arrival two weeks ago. unless... there's someone richer than the colosseum owner, the richest man in this continent; someone powerful enough to pull the strings to buy him...

a chill ran down his body as the worst scenario popped into his mind. no—that couldn't be her.

the arm rings emanated small amount of chakra. madara didn't need any effort to recognize whose chakra was embedded in the suppressants. it's hers.

shit. shiiiiiit.

"long time no see, madara."

the bed shifted when a new weight joined him. the blindfold was pulled away. after he adjusted his eyes to the lighting, madara found a woman sat on him. she wore a thin dress that let him to see the outline of her curves. madara pushed his head back into the blanket, opting to look at the bed's canopy.

oh from all the nobles who could've bought him, why does it have to be her?

"who said you could look away?"

he grunted. the rings glowed as she pushed his arms above his head. slender fingers traced the line of his muscles, upwards to his chin, then pulled it down, forcing madara to look at her in the eye.

senju hashirama looked the same like few years ago when he saw her single-handedly decimating his army. minus her armor and sword, of course. as she lowered her body, her hair spread across his, tickling his skin. she smelled fresh, like an awash forest floor after morning rain. her skin was warm and smooth...

"i hope you're comfortable enough," she said, smiling.

"i am, your majesty," madara replied curtly, half whispering. "this is... certainly better than my modest room back in the colosseum." he tried to ignore the desire building within him. considering their faces were inches apart and their skin met on many places, his attempt was futile at best.

"ah—" hashirama pushed forward, looking at his raised arms. his wrists were still chained. she placed her knees on both sides of his torso while leaning forward, causing him to sink further into the blanket to avoid her dangling breasts on his face.

his desire was getting more painful. his head was pounding. this isn't how he imagined their reunion...

madara was so focused with her that he didn't realize his wrists were set free. his arms fell to the sides, then grabbed her waist, bringing her back to where she sat. his effort was met with a cold stare.

"i didn't say you can touch me." her eyes were twinkling with amusement. "and where's my thanks?"

"thank you." his gratitude and apology was delivered with gritting teeth, trying not to sound too mocking. "pardon me, my queen. your humble slave has less experience in the arts of bodily pleasure. fighting is his forte."

"that's for me to decide," hashirama said, rising from the bed. "i'll let you rest tonight." she beamed.

"what—" madara rose as well, wincing as his taut skin scratched the blanket. for a moment he felt they were younger, still sparring and play-fighting as friends, so the next word that left his mouth was, "hashi—!"

he couldn't say the rest of her name. wooden roots sprung out of nowhere, binding his arm and foot, preventing him to leave the bed. the arm rings blocked his chakra from forming into solid power. no matter how hard he pulled and pushed, the roots prevailed. "take these off!"

"just sleep," hashirama sighed, already one step from the door. "you're not in a good condition to fight me."

madara growled, "take these rings off and we'll see."

whatever reply hashirama meant to say never made it out. her stare went downwards from his face. madara followed her line of sight, only to realize the cloth draped on his waist had been crumpled on the floor.

she let out a soft chuckle. "you should've said something about it."

if hashirama chose to leave, then he would deal with it himself. yet as if she could read his mind, another roots sprung to his other arm. they pulled her until he lay on the bed again. "i can't sleep like this," he hissed.

"i'll let you find a way." the queen had grabbed the door handle when he stopped her.

"wait! you bought me—right?" he hated sounding so hopeless, but hashirama was his only hope.

"i did."

"then why won't you—?" madara gestured with his chin.

her smile bloomed again. "do i need to remind you of your place, humble slave?"

he took a deep breath, focusing on her face instead of her body, and said, "please."

hashirama stood close to the bed's end, with one knee resting on its edge. "louder."

"...please."

she shook her head.

"my queen, my goddess—please."

finally, his words bore their intended effect. the inside of her mouth felt even warmer wrapped around his painful flesh...

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as he gazed upon hashirama's sleeping face beside him, madara thought perhaps there is another kind of battle he could play with her.

a battle that would free him from the shackles of slavery.