Fandom: Naruto (to Gaara-Rescue-Arc)
Summary: Hidan uses Kakuzu to scratch his itch, but gets a bit of a surprise. PWP, Sounding (urethral play), tentacles, D/s, bond, S/M
Warnings: anal, body modification, bondage, CBT, language, masochism, religion, sounding, tentacle, yaoi
A/N: This is not a companion piece to ‘Sounding’, not Hidan’s view of Kakuzu’s actions. Yes, it was spawned by the same prompt, namely “Kakuzu/Hidan with thread*tacle sounding”, and large parts were written nearly at the same time (which means that there will be obvious parallels). However, it is a story of its own. So please read and enjoy it as that.
Hidan groaned deep in his throat, his back arching as much as his bonds allowed. Another stab of pain, another strand inserted smoothly beneath his skin.
How had that fucker Kakuzu found out how much he got off on getting stitched together by those damned threads of his?
He could feel his prick twitch with every new stab, even though it should be anatomically impossible with the way that fucker’s tentacles were squeezing off his package. ‘So that he didn’t blow his load prematurely,’ according to that godless heathen.
Bullshit, according to Hidan. Bastard got off on seeing him reduced to a mindless humping puddle of instincts. And not being able to blow one’s load when one needed to, went a great deal that way for any hot-blooded male. Which Hidan prided himself on being.
How the hell was a man supposed to come like this?
Well, he supposed that was the whole point of things, but that didn’t mean he agreed with it. Especially not that superior smirk on that ass’s face.
For now though, he was still far from ‘mindless’, and he enjoyed proving that to the other. He struck as provocative a pose as possible while suspended in mid-air. That fucker had wound his threads around all four of his limbs, hoisting him up by his spread arms - his feet were bound, too, but that was just to ensure he didn’t resort to kicking.
“You think that’s gonna make me break? Feh, gotta do better than that, bastard.”
His only answer was a smirk and a hand - a hand, not a thread! - twisting his left nipple viciously. Then one of the threads plunged deep into his flesh towards the back of his ribcage, and he couldn’t help another groan. Jashin, but that hurt.
It wasn’t that he liked being tied up and forced to give up control. Kind of went against his identity of one of the biggest baddest evils out there, priest to one fucking awesome God of Pain and Suffering. The monster under the bed that children learned about while still sucking their momma’s tits.
Bad-ass types like him just weren’t into that kind of submissive shit.
But the fucker really knew what he was doing, using those creepy-ass tentacles of his. Bastard had probably practiced his technique for longer than Hidan was alive. He was older than dirt anyway.
The only reason Hidan wasn’t up and out of there, was the fucker’s talent for sniffing out things that gave him mind-blowing orgasms.
Well, that and the several loops of thread that were wrapped around his cock and limbs. He could break them - which he probably should, just to show that godless heathen that he shouldn’t assume Hidan’s compliance - but that would mean he’d be back to jerking off tonight. Again.
So he writhed as much as his bonds allowed and let his mouth run off with all the vulgarities he knew that bastard hated. If he couldn’t escape, he could at least be irritating as hell.
Sadly, that little bit of defiance was rendered moot, too, when one of the thicker threads forced itself into his mouth, gagging him quite effectively. He gagged, too, both because of the weird-ass taste and the way the thing nudged against the back of his throat. And it had the audacity to wriggle every once in a while.
He growled and repeated his litany of curses silently in his head.
If he knew how to make things stick, he would have sacrificed that asshole to his God a long time ago, good lay or not. But with those fucking threads of his, the heathen was just as immortal as Hidan, and Hidan could have hacked away at himself until he turned blue without anything significant happening. The fucker would have just pulled himself together afterwards, and Jashin-sama would have remained unsatisfied.
He was jostled out of his hateful musings by his limbs being manipulated into a new position.
Apparently, the bastard had decided that his old position wasn’t good enough anymore. So threads contracted and bent and elongated until Hidan’s arms had been forced behind his back and his heels up to his ass. Two more tendrils ensured that he couldn’t close his thighs even if he wanted to, making him kneel in mid-air like a two-bit whore. His balls were strapped down securely, painful but not unbearable.
The other threads, those that the bastard had sunk into his flesh, had made the transition, too. Every time he breathed, he was reminded of their existence through their painful tugs at his skin.
When he finally came to a halt at about eye-level with the fucker, he was panting like a rabid dog and thrusting his hips up and down as much as his bindings allowed. He bared his teeth around his gag, knowing very well that it was only the thread tugging his balls down and back that prevented him from shooting his spunk right then and there.
Yeah, as he had already said. Bastard was a fucker, but he was a damned good fucker.
He groaned and bit into his gag as a hand came down to stroke his angry red prick. That asshole knew exactly how to handle his meat. Tight to the point of pain, and a thumb pressing hard into the weeping glans.
Before too much blood could start pounding in his ears - because its insistent throb down south wasn’t getting any closer to release - the fucker stopped again. Hidan didn’t care if his whine was unmanly or not; it was a grunt anyway. And if that fucking asshole didn’t start up again right now, he’d…
He didn’t know what he’d do, because the bastard had managed to distract him with his threads again. A slightly s-curved ending about ten inches long, was waving in his eye-mouth region. He went almost cross-eyed trying to focus on it. It was quite thin, less than half a pinky’s worth.
He drew a grimace. Was the fucker going to try and stuff that up his nose or what?
Then his attention was drawn back to his prick when the fucker grabbed it again. Instead of giving him a proper hand-job though, that asshole merely held Hidan’s meat in one palm without doing anything. His thumb and forefinger were squeezing the weeping head, and Hidan had to admit it was an interesting sensation. It definitely had potential; that is, if the fucker actually got around to moving, or whatever he was planning.
But that bastard still wasn’t doing anything.
At least Hidan thought so, until he saw that s-shaped thread from before hovering near his cock. The ass wasn’t planning to…
“Watch.” The fucker’s eyes practically glowed with sadistic glee, which was kind of hard to discern beneath the general creepiness of his pupil-less irises.
Hidan would have protested that he couldn’t do anything but watch, trussed up like he was, but the fucker still had him gagged. And before he could make any more obvious gestures of annoyance, that bastard actually took the thread and plunged its tip into his piss-slit.
All his muscles sprung into sharp definition at the electric sensation. For several seconds, he didn’t even breathe.
Not quite believing what the other had just done, his eyes flew up to meet the fucker’s. And he hated the knowing, superior look in them.
Then the godless heathen did something, twisted the thread or stuffed it deeper into Hidan’s cock, and his world exploded into colors.
It felt like he was trying to come and piss at the same time, not that he could do either at the moment thanks to his dick and balls being tied off. It was a burning stretch that somehow nudged the flesh of his prick in the exact right way to send an equal amount of pleasure through him. And he was so fucking sensitive down there that lights went off when he did nothing but fucking breathe.
Afterwards, he didn’t know if he had screamed or howled or made any other noise. But the sting in his sides where he had torn a few stitches told him that he must have thrashed around quite a bit. And, of course, the bastard’s self-satisfied smirk was enough of an answer.
If his mind wasn’t trying to survive the simple act of breathing, he probably would have gotten a lot more angry. As it was, his attention was eaten up by the one hand holding his prick steady, and the other one using the tendril to slowly root around the insides.
Gradually, more and more black thread vanished into the purplish-red tip. The fucker’s hands were steady as rock, when Hidan’s flesh was jerking and twitching like he was chained to a live-wire socket. Good thing that those bindings holding him up were steady as well, or he would have collapsed quite ungracefully at that bastard’s feet.
He was only peripherally aware that he was close to hyperventilating, and that his every exhale was accompanied by a moan.
For every millimeter that vanished into his cock, new sensations exploded inside him. He suddenly felt things in locations he hadn’t even known one could feel things. It was mind-blowing, pushing him right to the brink of orgasm, but too new to actually get to the last step and throw him over.
The worst thing was, it just went on and on and on. Just how much did that asshole plan on stuffing into him? It felt like he was already scraping against the inside of his teeth, and the bastard was still pushing things. And his cock looked downright obscene with the way the black thread erupted from his dark red flesh.
To distract himself a bit, he started gnawing on his gag-tentacle. There was a damned good reason why the bastard had never tried to fuck his mouth, because Hidan prided himself on being quite a vicious biter. Asshole had learned his lesson very quickly, that if he wanted to keep his precious little wienie intact, he’d better keep it away from Hidan’s face. That had been a fun night.
But there was just something about digging his teeth into things until his jaw ached. Something like a primal hunger that demanded that he bite and chew, and he had never been one to forgo such instincts.
As if that asshole had sensed his mind wandering, he was suddenly torn back into his body by a sudden explosion frying his nerves big-time. It felt like he had been sucker-punched in the gut and electrified through his dick at the same time.
He wheezed, folding over until he thought his arms were getting dislocated, teeth clenching reflexively on the tentacle in his mouth. What the fuck? Threads were latching on to his head - he had come too close to that fucker’s chest - and were bending his spine and drawing his hair back, until he couldn’t help but stare at his own cock. Red, angry, still being held by one deadly pale hand, still pissing black thread that was being held by the other.
He almost missed the tiny flick of the wrist that was supporting the thread, pushing it only minimally deeper. What he didn’t miss though was the reaction that elicited from his body. Again, all air was forced out of his lungs, his guts twitching and jerking. If he wasn’t so crunched up already, he’d be convulsing inwards even more. As it was, his back felt close to breaking, and his eyes whited out.
Holy god-damn motherfuckin’ shit! The bastard was so far inside that he was hitting his prostate!
When he could breathe again, he realized he’d been forced back into his upright kneeling position. His abs were still twitching, his panting rapid but shallow. Every shivering inhale moved something inside him that was a pale but electrifying reminder of that sucker-punch from before, until he felt like he was going mad.
The fucker was saying something, but he didn’t listen. Couldn’t listen. Couldn’t see properly. Couldn’t even muster the coordination to bite down on that goddamn wriggling tentacle in his mouth.
What he did feel though was when the bastard pulled at the thread in his dick. Felt like he was trying to piss acid, combined with bladder stones. Just before it was all out though, the fucker had the nerve to reverse the direction and push it inside again. Quite ungently at that.
If he could have done anything with the way painful stars were exploding in his vision, Hidan would have happily gutted that motherfucking asshole and bathed in his entrails. And he could feel that somewhere beyond his reach, his God was taking interest and waiting for the entrails, too.
It took some time, but slowly he was getting used to the sensation of something scraping in and out of his dick. The raw friction was an acidic contrast to the cool hand holding him steady, and for some reason he was still as hard as ever. Harder even. And he couldn’t even put it down to the bastard’s version of a cockring, because he realized that it was only his balls that were still tied off.
Apparently, his body knew what was going on quite a bit better than himself. But amongst the increasing burn, another feeling was starting to glow. It was arousal so deep and raw that it was more pain than anything, and it blossomed through his dick into his guts and up his spine until he had to throw back his head and scream to his God.
He strained wildly against his bonds, trying to meet the hand for more, more of that acidic pleasure that etched its way through him. His heart felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage, and bursting stars replaced the suckerpunch feeling.
Slowly though he realized that he was surrounded by mocking laughter, jeering at his mindless rut, and he used his reflexive upwelling of anger to tug his mind back into reality. He saw the way the heathen’s pupil-less eyes were smirking at him, entirely too satisfied. That dissolved the haze he had sunk into even faster, until he was there and sharp and grinding his teeth until they hurt.
Every slow twitch of the fucker’s hands sent pleasure eating through his veins, and he hated it. Hated it with every fiber of his body that was singing in pleasure. Hated how his flesh was dancing to somebody else’s tune, and loved it at the same time. Because throughout it all his God was watching, and he’d be damned if he didn’t suffer well for his God.
Suddenly though, the threads wrapped around his balls cinched even tighter and tugged down nastily. He howled into his gag and glared at the bastard for all he was worth. Didn’t that fucker already have him where he wanted? All but humping mindlessly into the other’s touch?
When a set of tendrils nudged against his asshole, he knew what the godless bastard was up to. Complete and utter fucking domination.
Slowly, more and more threads pushed inside, while all others stopped their stimulation. It felt creepy being opened up like that, a multitude of tentacles wriggling inside like little snakes. Dry, of course. But at least it was a familiar feeling, and he knew how to deal with it. He relaxed as much as possible despite the acidic pleasure inside his dick, waiting until the bastard was done.
Soon enough, the stretch started to burn, and still more threads were pushing in. How much was that fucker trying to stuff up there? He concentrated on the exhilarating feeling of getting filled, while the uncertainty of when the bastard was going to stop tingled inside his dick.
Eventually, when he thought he was about to burst, the fucker finally restarted the action on other locations, too.
A twitch of the tread in his dick had him back at full attention, and the one in his mouth forced him to relax his jaw and deep-throat, or get his teeth knocked out. He was almost too distracted to realize the ones in his ass were drawing out again, but the subsequent push inside was too hard to ignore.
Getting fucked roughly on all three ends was starting to be a bit too much, even for him. Especially with that mind-fuck extending down his dick and his God watching and waiting.
He was whining continuously now, mindless in his search for release. Both the threads in his ass and the one down his cock were hitting his prostate continually now, practically giving him a dry orgasm every couple of seconds. He was twitching and convulsing as his body jerked in its restraints, trying to fulfill an age-old instinct for release.
Sweat dripped off him as he flew apart into a thoughtless rut. Eyes to the ceiling, unseeing while at the same time they saw his God, pupils blown so wide they swallowed the iris around them, heart beating so fast it resembled a hummingbird’s. His mouth would be gaping open if his throat wasn’t getting fucked by his gag. And his thighs worked overtime, straining against his bonds to meet those thrusts before his balls fell off from being abused so much.
It was heaven and hell at the same time, with his God watching and hovering just outside his reach.
The splatter of wet cum across his groin and thighs registered only peripherally. It wasn’t his, so it didn’t interest him.
He didn’t know how much time passed until he felt the threads through his skin becoming tighter while the noose around his balls got looser. The renewed blood-flow hurt like hell. At the same time though, it pushed him the rest of the way.
With a hoarse scream around the gag fucking his mouth, the world whited out.
He could feel his spunk trying to force its way through the obstruction in his dick. The thing in his ass was somehow taking the stretch to a new level so that his spasming muscles bruised themselves during their contractions around the impossibly large object. Further up, the tendrils were ripping themselves out of his skin as he convulsed so hard that he dislocated his shoulders. The added pain and blood only set off new fireworks of pleasure, and he bathed in the sadistic exhilaration of his God.
Combined with his prostate still being pounded mercilessly and his agonized balls still squeezing out spunk for all they were worth, it was no wonder that he blacked out somewhere towards the end.
When he came to again, his God had vanished to wherever He was when He wasn’t making His presence known to Hidan. The fucker had already left, too. Probably to earn some more money, the bastard.
He shook his head to clear it the rest of the way and looked around for something to wipe himself off. Well, more like he needed a bath, but one had to make do with what one had. He smirked at the pleasing soreness all over his body.
Yeah. The bastard sure knew how to fuck. But he’d be damned if he didn’t find a way to give that heathen to his God.
A/N: As usual - please tell me what you think!
Somewhere along the way, I got the feeling that I wasn’t writing Hidan so much anymore, but rather Grimmjow from Bleach. At that point, I added all the God and Jashin and heathen stuff, but I couldn’t quite shake that Grimmjow-feeling. Somehow, I feel like I didn’t really get Hidan’s character (as much character as someone can have in a PWP), but I don’t know what’s missing. If you do (or if you think I’m not missing anything), please tell me!