Sesshomaru Unbound
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InuYasha › Yaoi - Male/Male › Sesshōmaru/Naraku
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Adult ++
Chapters:
10
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Category:
InuYasha › Yaoi - Male/Male › Sesshōmaru/Naraku
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
7,195
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Chapter 9
© Salome Wilde, 2008
Sesshomaru Unbound
Author’s Note: I rushed the ending. Hence, I have added this new chapter, which replaces 9. That means former Chapter 9 (final chapter) is now Chapter 10.
Chapter 9
Not more than seven turnings of the moon passed before Naraku’s scent was once again filling Sesshomaru’s nostrils with its foul demand for attention. There was no question that Sesshomaru was up for any challenge the hanyo abomination might bring, but he had not expected that he would bring it to him. It was the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, and Sesshomaru moved quickly to keep his nemesis from getting any closer to those in his protection. Jaken and Rin slept peacefully, exactly as he would have it.
Arriving in the nearby glade from which Naraku’s stench emanated, Sesshomaru noted how slowly his enemy was advancing. Moving forward with smooth, elegant steps, he suddenly came not upon Naraku but Kagura. He was surprised not only by the strength of her scent but also by her monstrous appearance. Her kimonos were in tatters, her hair hung in clumps and strands around her face, but most prominent of all was the blood. She was awash in it, spattered from head to foot. She bled from multiple slash wounds and punctures. Sesshomaru marveled that she could still walk. Then, as if in answer to his question, she dropped to the ground before him, insensible.
Sesshomaru looked down upon the crumpled form, wondering whether it was still a body or now a corpse. Because she lacked a heart, he did not know precisely how he would tell. How much blood could a detachment from Naraku’s composite hanyo self lose before one could cease to call it living? The simplest answer was to walk away. He doubted Tenseiga would be useful in this circumstance, and he was uninterested in finding out. Firstly, the accursed inheritance seemed to have the ability to render him responsible for the one whose life he returned. Kagura already sought more connection to him than he desired. Secondly, he doubted the sorceress would wish to be resurrected. At their last encounter, she had made plain that death was an acceptable form of freedom to her. He found the weakness in such a thought abhorrent, but he was the powerful son of daiyokai parents not a pseudo-offspring of a weak, perverse half-demon.
He assumed that if she truly was dead, she would soon dissolve or degenerate in some fashion. He watched dispassionately. And he also pondered this strange situation. Appearances suggested that it was Naraku himself who had done this to his vessel. She reeked of him, more than usually so. And it seemed logical that he had discovered her treachery. Yet, assuming these things to be true, why had he not simply dispatched her in a less bloodthirsty manner? Hands-on torture was not so much his style as getting others to do such work or using less conventional means. He had only to destroy her heart, Sesshomaru knew, to end her existence.
Kagura remained inert, and he allowed himself a moment of reflection. How would it be to live so dependent an existence? He recalled the desperation in her eyes at their last meeting, though he could also remember previous encounters, when she was his foe. There was a confidence in her, a pride that seemed somehow paradoxically to come from her role as Naraku’s follower. Did she envision herself as his “champion” then? Perhaps so. Unbidden, words and images from his recent past flew into Sesshomaru’s mind: crouching…waiting to be filled…“You have no equal, my Sesshomaru….” That voice: luring, praising, coaxing, seducing. Did Naraku talk this way to Kagura? Did he need to?
His cock jumped in his robes. He ground his teeth and shook the image from his mind. It was all false, all implanted. His desires were his to control, and he was no Kagura, to be seduced by delusions of empowerment through servitude. As he suppressed the growl building in his throat, he heard Kagura’s whimper. She was not dead. Without further thought, he hefted her over his shoulder. She groaned but did not stir.
Moving swiftly, they soon arrived at a nearby spring. He placed Kagura in the water and carefully removed the shredded remains of her garments. Once cleansed, he saw that her wounds were not lethal, but substantial. What had happened, and why had she come to him? Kagura’s voice interrupted his thoughts: “I have fled Naraku. I will not go back. He can kill me whenever he wishes, but for the time left me, I wish to serve you, Lord of the Western Lands.” Her eyes blazed with a determination he had not seen there before. It compelled him.
As he lifted her from the water and laid her on the soft ground nearby, he acknowledged that this was not a rational decision, yet neither was it emotional. Instinct perhaps described his decision best, and Sesshomaru trusted his instincts. At least he had before Naraku infested his body and controlled his mind. But that was past now and it was time to return to confidence in his inuyokai nature. An ability to explain one’s decisions did not make them wise. Kagura shivered. “I will bring you garments,” he said, recognizing that the role of protector was not unpleasant to him, especially as this was no child. Soon, she could not only care for herself but perhaps even assist his efforts. He wondered why he had not thought before of stealing her heart from Naraku.
There was no question but that a strong sense of purpose fueled the soul of Sesshomaru. And having Kagura did inspire him. Here was something that had fully belonged to Naraku and would now be his. He would use her well, to enhance his power and defeat his adversary. Though he neither pitied nor truly desired her, it was simply right to claim her now.
As he took a step away from her, Kagura’s hand reached out and grasped the end of his mokomoko. “Do not leave me, my Lord,” she begged. He turned back, slipping his sensitive yokai organ from her grip. She continued: “He may take me while you are gone. Please do not go.” Her voice grew softer. “I can feel my heart in his hand even now. He knows I am here with you. I want him to know. You, more than most, know how truly cruel he can be. He used me as he used you, Sesshomaru-sama. Many, many times. But he will not have me again. Wipe his scent from me, inuyokai. Purify me of his stain.” She opened her arms to invite Sesshomaru in.
Despite himself, Sesshomaru was tempted. Taking Kagura now was a way to flaunt his power over Naraku, to reclaim his dominance and control. It was beneath him to yield to such indirect methods, but this was also a way to erase the images that still came to him, unbidden, in the night. Remembered realities of being taken, unable to move. Remembered fantasies of his mouth on that foul hanyo cock. This time, Kagura was not someone to be appeased to regain his weapons and move forward. Now she was a direct link to Naraku, to causing Naraku to feel helpless. Let him kill her if he would, but before he did so, let him feel Sesshomaru’s power and know himself helpless to weaken it.
He grew erect at these thoughts and disrobed with graceful speed. Kagura looked up at him, a small smile on her face, her wounded body delicate in the moonlight. “Take me, Sesshomaru-sama,” she breathed as he brought his lithe body over hers. She embraced him tightly and breathed against his chest as he slipped between her damp thighs. He entered her easily, smoothly, her body welcoming his with a remarkably lush warmth. She moaned as he rode her, matching his thrusts as best she could in her weakened condition. Sesshomaru thrilled to the combined pleasure of a body he had not remembered being so well suited to his needs and the knowledge that even as his physical arousal grew, so Naraku’s power diminished. Yes, each plunge into Kagura’s sweet, wet core brought him closer to defeating Naraku. The fiend’s name became a chant in his mind as he drove on and on. Though he felt her nails in his back, Kagura’s own pleasure, indeed her life itself, fell beneath his consideration as his climax rushed upon him. Thus, as he swelled and his muscles locked in preparation for release, he could barely hear her mutter, “Yes, my bitch, my sweet inu whore, take me into the heart of your need…”
Sesshomaru rose up and withdrew from the false body, unable to stop the flow of his seed from pouring forth. It splashed onto the form that now blackened and dissolved before his eyes, leaving only a demon puppet doll behind. Sesshomaru crushed the mud doll with his foot as he howled his rage. He cursed himself for not recognizing the falseness of Kagura’s body. He fumed at not knowing it was a golem, allowing Naraku to manipulate him from a cowardly distance. And he seethed at having let what Naraku had already done to him inspire further rash decisions. How could he so willingly and foolishly have given up even more of his power than that which Naraku already foully stolen?
He turned up his face and roared into the pre-dawn sky: “Show yourself, Naraku. Craven hanyo, vengeance will be mine!” His words boomed forth, echoing off the mountains that surrounded him. His voice was filled with such uncharacteristic emotion, it was unrecognizable to his own ears.
Sesshomaru Unbound
Author’s Note: I rushed the ending. Hence, I have added this new chapter, which replaces 9. That means former Chapter 9 (final chapter) is now Chapter 10.
Chapter 9
Not more than seven turnings of the moon passed before Naraku’s scent was once again filling Sesshomaru’s nostrils with its foul demand for attention. There was no question that Sesshomaru was up for any challenge the hanyo abomination might bring, but he had not expected that he would bring it to him. It was the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, and Sesshomaru moved quickly to keep his nemesis from getting any closer to those in his protection. Jaken and Rin slept peacefully, exactly as he would have it.
Arriving in the nearby glade from which Naraku’s stench emanated, Sesshomaru noted how slowly his enemy was advancing. Moving forward with smooth, elegant steps, he suddenly came not upon Naraku but Kagura. He was surprised not only by the strength of her scent but also by her monstrous appearance. Her kimonos were in tatters, her hair hung in clumps and strands around her face, but most prominent of all was the blood. She was awash in it, spattered from head to foot. She bled from multiple slash wounds and punctures. Sesshomaru marveled that she could still walk. Then, as if in answer to his question, she dropped to the ground before him, insensible.
Sesshomaru looked down upon the crumpled form, wondering whether it was still a body or now a corpse. Because she lacked a heart, he did not know precisely how he would tell. How much blood could a detachment from Naraku’s composite hanyo self lose before one could cease to call it living? The simplest answer was to walk away. He doubted Tenseiga would be useful in this circumstance, and he was uninterested in finding out. Firstly, the accursed inheritance seemed to have the ability to render him responsible for the one whose life he returned. Kagura already sought more connection to him than he desired. Secondly, he doubted the sorceress would wish to be resurrected. At their last encounter, she had made plain that death was an acceptable form of freedom to her. He found the weakness in such a thought abhorrent, but he was the powerful son of daiyokai parents not a pseudo-offspring of a weak, perverse half-demon.
He assumed that if she truly was dead, she would soon dissolve or degenerate in some fashion. He watched dispassionately. And he also pondered this strange situation. Appearances suggested that it was Naraku himself who had done this to his vessel. She reeked of him, more than usually so. And it seemed logical that he had discovered her treachery. Yet, assuming these things to be true, why had he not simply dispatched her in a less bloodthirsty manner? Hands-on torture was not so much his style as getting others to do such work or using less conventional means. He had only to destroy her heart, Sesshomaru knew, to end her existence.
Kagura remained inert, and he allowed himself a moment of reflection. How would it be to live so dependent an existence? He recalled the desperation in her eyes at their last meeting, though he could also remember previous encounters, when she was his foe. There was a confidence in her, a pride that seemed somehow paradoxically to come from her role as Naraku’s follower. Did she envision herself as his “champion” then? Perhaps so. Unbidden, words and images from his recent past flew into Sesshomaru’s mind: crouching…waiting to be filled…“You have no equal, my Sesshomaru….” That voice: luring, praising, coaxing, seducing. Did Naraku talk this way to Kagura? Did he need to?
His cock jumped in his robes. He ground his teeth and shook the image from his mind. It was all false, all implanted. His desires were his to control, and he was no Kagura, to be seduced by delusions of empowerment through servitude. As he suppressed the growl building in his throat, he heard Kagura’s whimper. She was not dead. Without further thought, he hefted her over his shoulder. She groaned but did not stir.
Moving swiftly, they soon arrived at a nearby spring. He placed Kagura in the water and carefully removed the shredded remains of her garments. Once cleansed, he saw that her wounds were not lethal, but substantial. What had happened, and why had she come to him? Kagura’s voice interrupted his thoughts: “I have fled Naraku. I will not go back. He can kill me whenever he wishes, but for the time left me, I wish to serve you, Lord of the Western Lands.” Her eyes blazed with a determination he had not seen there before. It compelled him.
As he lifted her from the water and laid her on the soft ground nearby, he acknowledged that this was not a rational decision, yet neither was it emotional. Instinct perhaps described his decision best, and Sesshomaru trusted his instincts. At least he had before Naraku infested his body and controlled his mind. But that was past now and it was time to return to confidence in his inuyokai nature. An ability to explain one’s decisions did not make them wise. Kagura shivered. “I will bring you garments,” he said, recognizing that the role of protector was not unpleasant to him, especially as this was no child. Soon, she could not only care for herself but perhaps even assist his efforts. He wondered why he had not thought before of stealing her heart from Naraku.
There was no question but that a strong sense of purpose fueled the soul of Sesshomaru. And having Kagura did inspire him. Here was something that had fully belonged to Naraku and would now be his. He would use her well, to enhance his power and defeat his adversary. Though he neither pitied nor truly desired her, it was simply right to claim her now.
As he took a step away from her, Kagura’s hand reached out and grasped the end of his mokomoko. “Do not leave me, my Lord,” she begged. He turned back, slipping his sensitive yokai organ from her grip. She continued: “He may take me while you are gone. Please do not go.” Her voice grew softer. “I can feel my heart in his hand even now. He knows I am here with you. I want him to know. You, more than most, know how truly cruel he can be. He used me as he used you, Sesshomaru-sama. Many, many times. But he will not have me again. Wipe his scent from me, inuyokai. Purify me of his stain.” She opened her arms to invite Sesshomaru in.
Despite himself, Sesshomaru was tempted. Taking Kagura now was a way to flaunt his power over Naraku, to reclaim his dominance and control. It was beneath him to yield to such indirect methods, but this was also a way to erase the images that still came to him, unbidden, in the night. Remembered realities of being taken, unable to move. Remembered fantasies of his mouth on that foul hanyo cock. This time, Kagura was not someone to be appeased to regain his weapons and move forward. Now she was a direct link to Naraku, to causing Naraku to feel helpless. Let him kill her if he would, but before he did so, let him feel Sesshomaru’s power and know himself helpless to weaken it.
He grew erect at these thoughts and disrobed with graceful speed. Kagura looked up at him, a small smile on her face, her wounded body delicate in the moonlight. “Take me, Sesshomaru-sama,” she breathed as he brought his lithe body over hers. She embraced him tightly and breathed against his chest as he slipped between her damp thighs. He entered her easily, smoothly, her body welcoming his with a remarkably lush warmth. She moaned as he rode her, matching his thrusts as best she could in her weakened condition. Sesshomaru thrilled to the combined pleasure of a body he had not remembered being so well suited to his needs and the knowledge that even as his physical arousal grew, so Naraku’s power diminished. Yes, each plunge into Kagura’s sweet, wet core brought him closer to defeating Naraku. The fiend’s name became a chant in his mind as he drove on and on. Though he felt her nails in his back, Kagura’s own pleasure, indeed her life itself, fell beneath his consideration as his climax rushed upon him. Thus, as he swelled and his muscles locked in preparation for release, he could barely hear her mutter, “Yes, my bitch, my sweet inu whore, take me into the heart of your need…”
Sesshomaru rose up and withdrew from the false body, unable to stop the flow of his seed from pouring forth. It splashed onto the form that now blackened and dissolved before his eyes, leaving only a demon puppet doll behind. Sesshomaru crushed the mud doll with his foot as he howled his rage. He cursed himself for not recognizing the falseness of Kagura’s body. He fumed at not knowing it was a golem, allowing Naraku to manipulate him from a cowardly distance. And he seethed at having let what Naraku had already done to him inspire further rash decisions. How could he so willingly and foolishly have given up even more of his power than that which Naraku already foully stolen?
He turned up his face and roared into the pre-dawn sky: “Show yourself, Naraku. Craven hanyo, vengeance will be mine!” His words boomed forth, echoing off the mountains that surrounded him. His voice was filled with such uncharacteristic emotion, it was unrecognizable to his own ears.