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yangssunglasses · 4 years

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Thinking of Her

For @olliya. You're the best! Thanks for the prompt. I also used prompt: dark from FemslashFeb2020 list.

Pairing: FemSasuSaku

Rating: M for lemony content.

Available on FFnet

Thinking of Her

For two years, she'd been training under Orochimaru's tutelage. Locked underground and living in solitude, or constantly on the move, traveling in the shadows, but always away from the sun—she was literally hidden in the sound. However, she was improving her fighting capability in leaps and bounds and that was all that mattered. Soon, she'd be able to match Itachi in power.

Soon, she would have her revenge.

Sasuke didn't like to remember what her life had been like in the past, the things she'd abandoned. Any sacrifice she'd made was worth reaching her ultimate goal.

And then the past came back, knocking on her door. Two very annoying idiots with some inconsequential lackeys in tow infiltrated the Oto base. They forced the confrontation, making it impossible to avoid, so she acted. She had to end this pointless encounter swiftly.

Dealing with Naruto was easy. Getting anything into his thick skull was downright hopeless, so instead she used brute strength. Other arguments wouldn't have swayed him. At the very least, if she damaged him badly enough, it would take him some time to recover before he came after her again.

But Sasuke couldn't afford to focus only on Naruto. Sakura was also there, still dressed in bold red, still just as vivid as Sasuke remembered her. She tried not to react, not to look at her too much, but her eyes were drawn to Sakura like to a magnet. The kunoichi held back, clearly a support type. It was mentioned in the reports from Konoha that she apprenticed under Tsunade as a medic-nin. Sasuke had only read them to see if there were any news about Itachi. He could've made another move to get Kyuubi. Learning what became of her former teammates was only coincidental.

She hadn't seen any recent photos of them though, so she took this opportunity to observe their changes. Naruto was still just as orange and loud as before. Sakura kept her hair shoulder-length, but she changed her outfit style. Gone was the dress, now she donned a red zip up sleeveless shirt, showing off her toned arms. The combo of skin-tight shorts and a pink skirt over them looked quite becoming on her too as it clung to her rounded hips and backside. Sasuke's gaze flickered over Sakura's legs—they seemed to stretch on for miles in those high shinobi boots. All in all, Sasuke approved of her fashion sense and tucked in all these details into her mind, an easy task with the photographic memory granted by her Sharingan.

The encounter with Naruto and Sakura was cut short, but it lingered on Sasuke's mind long time after. Once she saw them, how much they improved and grew, it was hard not to think about them. Even when they weren't there, they still managed to annoy her. They distracted her from Itachi and that was unacceptable.

After that incident, she was reminded of them more often. She heard a boisterous laugh and immediately thought Naruto might be just around a corner; she caught a glimpse of pink hair in the corridors of the base, but when she ran, heart in throat, after that person, she found only Karin, whose red hair appeared pink in the dim, orange light of torches.

Sasuke had to stop this, shut down these thoughts. She submerged herself in more training, she reviewed that night in a genjutsu to keep her hatred fresh, hone it into a blade that would execute Itachi—anything to purge herself of weak sentimentality. She'd cut those bonds for a reason. They only stood in the way of her revenge.

But Sasuke was a sick girl by nature. She'd been cursed long before Orochimaru even came along, wanting things she shouldn't want, coveting what could never be hers. She knew these desires weren't normal, so she buried them, smothered under hatred and revenge.

However, alone in the dark of night, behind closed doors of an empty room in a distant Oto base, she allowed herself to indulge in her perversion. Sasuke closed her eyes and conjured the image of Sakura as she'd seen her the last time. Once again, she heard the soft utter of her name falling from Sakura's lush lips.

Sasuke thought of kissing those lips and traced her own mouth with a finger pad lightly. A shiver of excitement rippled over her body. She licked her lips and brushed down her chin and neck to the collarbones. She imagined Sakura was there with her, touching her so carefully. It was Sakura laying butterfly kisses down her body, Sakura who pulled down her breast band and palmed her modest chest curiously. Sasuke's nipples stiffened, exposed to the cool air in the room, and she sighed when Sakura's warm hands rolled and pinched them.

Soon, massaging her breasts wasn't enough for Sasuke as the pressure between her legs demanded attention. "Let me take care of you," Sakura said seductively and made a path over her stomach before easing one slim hand under the waistband. Sasuke made a soft sound when her lover brushed over the dark patch of hair and cupped her heated mound. She eagerly spread her legs wider, giving Sakura room to slip both hands in her underwear, while Sasuke worked down the zipper on her red shirt.

Sasuke unclasped the standard bra and bared Sakura's chest for her own viewing pleasure. The small, pert mounds bounced before her eyes and she touched and squeezed them with care. She took the pebbled pink nipples into her mouth and sucked them, making Sakura moan in her ear. It sounded like heavenly music.

Sasuke gasped in arousal when Sakura's one hand pulled her nether lips open to explore the dewy skin with the other one. The delicate touch quickly grew firmer when she brushed against Sasuke's sensitive nub. She steadily rubbed around it in circles, occasionally giving it a soft stroke that made Sasuke whimper. Wetness spilled out of her feminine opening and made her slick under the touch. The dull, empty ache inside had Sasuke buck up her hips, asking for more, and Sakura delivered.

Sasuke exhaled sharply when a finger slipped into her passage. She clenched tight around it before relaxing and accepting the intruding digit inside. It started to push in and out slowly but soon it fell into a rhythm as it rubbed over the sensitive inner walls. Sasuke rocked her hips in time with the moving finger, helping it slide deeper and reach her most pleasurable spots.

"Do you want me to make you come, Sasuke?" Sakura asked.

"Yes… ah… yesss…" Sasuke hissed her response.

Sakura kissed her again and plunged a second finger inside. Sasuke's body arched, the pressure in her core becoming unbelievable as Sakura skillfully rubbed her pulsing clit and pumped the sopping pussy. Finally, the taut coil sprang open and Sasuke let out a keening wail as she came hard all over Sakura's hand.

For a short moment she existed in a plane of perfect stillness where there was only pleasure, then she returned to the ground. Her chest was heaving with frantic pants of breath, erect nipples pointed straight up and sweaty moisture gathered in her cleavage. When the fog of orgasm lifted, Sasuke found herself alone in her room—cell—both hands buried between her legs and soaked with her own juices. The phantom Sakura was gone, her absence leaving behind a hollow ache like an old wound, and Sasuke was capable of feeling shame again. To use Sakura for something so vile, so depraved… This hellhole of a village was the only place where Sasuke deserved to be.

Slowly, she pulled her hands out of her soaked underwear, then giving into curiosity, she brought them to her lips to taste her wetness. It was salty and she thought that if this was what girls taste like, then Sakura was no different… The idea of checking it for herself, of touching, stroking, licking Sakura's pussy was just as deviant as the erotic fantasy before, but Sasuke couldn't help herself.

After she came again to the thoughts of tearing off Sakura's shorts and burying her tongue in her, Sasuke closed her eyes drowsily. After finally quenching that twisted desire that burned low in her gut, she was sure to have a good night's rest. She felt lazy and sated as she drifted off into a deep slumber.

Unbeknownst to Sasuke, back in Konoha, in the privacy of her own dark bedroom, Sakura was also thinking of her. Since they'd met again in the Oto base, Sasuke had been constantly on her mind. The rogue Uchiha had appeared to Sakura so grown up and hauntingly beautiful, as cold and pure as snow on the high mountain peaks and just as unapproachable. Sakura knew what had happened prior to her arrival from Sai's report from that mission and she couldn't help but wonder.

In her imagination, she was the one who found Sasuke first, laying in the dark room, red Sharingan eyes glowing with menace before she swiftly sat up and switched on a lamp on the nightstand. Her alabaster skin glowed softly in the intimate light.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a warning in her tone.

But Sakura approached the bed undeterred.

"I'm here for you. I missed you so, so much. Please, come back with me to Konoha," she asked, putting all her heart into this simple request.

Sasuke smirked coldly at her.

"Why should I? Convince me," she demanded and oh, did Sakura convince her.

In her bed, Sakura touched herself to the fantasy of kissing Sasuke on those smug, soft lips until they were both dizzy and short of breath, of falling down together in a tangle of limbs, of worshipping her body, honed like a blade and just as dangerous, of bringing her pleasure so great that Sasuke had no other choice than to agree to return home.

Sakura came with a ragged groan into a pillow. She slumped on her stomach, the quakes in her body slowly subsiding as she relaxed in repose. If only changing Sasuke's mind was that easy, she'd have done it in a heartbeat.

A tear slid down Sakura's porcelain cheek, glittering like silver in the moonlight. The kunoichi fell asleep, unaware just how closely her and Sasuke's feelings were connected in that moment.

#femslashfeb2020 #sasusaku #femsasusaku #my fanfiction

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canadianabroadvery · 5 years

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In Alfred Hitchcock’s classic thriller, Shadow of a Doubt, spunky, recent high school grad Teresa Wright discovers her beloved uncle is a serial killer.

Wright’s subsequent efforts to protect herself and others from psychopathic Joseph Cotten are continually frustrated by the extraordinary denial of her family and her community lost in the “thrall” of the worldly, smooth-talking Uncle Charlie.

Heartbroken and distraught, she must contend with her uncle’s violent agenda while being obstructed by a naive and vulnerable community of his enablers and/or soon to be victims.

Wright’s horrifying predicament resonates as I witness my – our – psychopathic uncle – UNCLE SAM, the U.S. government – perpetrate violent crime upon crime against humanity enabled by a maddening, morally mute, over-trusting, under-informed and/or indifferent citizenry.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully wrap my mind or heart around the profound lack of outrage and empathy among government leaders from both corporate parties, the corporate media, as well as the vast majority of my fellow citizens at the ongoing atrocities of the Global War on Terror (more accurately, the “US Global War of Terror”) and the “regime change” covert and/or overt operations initially and sinisterly described as “humanitarian interventions.”

The terrorist attacks of 9/11 seemingly justified a “gloves off” bloodlust defiance by the political and military “guardians” of America of the legal and moral pillars of our democracy. All these years since, the mandates for constitutional and moral justice “for all” have gone unheeded.

The Iraq war was launched illegally and with manipulative lies. Bush’s torture program was in total opposition to constitutional, international and moral law. Its perpetrators deserved serious prosecution.

The Geneva Conventions were ratified once upon a time by a U.S. Congress. Habeas corpus, in place since 1679, so cavalierly suspended with the GWOT’s “anything goes” rationale.

When such gobsmacking evil manifests on such a collective and global level for such a sustained amount of time, it deserves a serious analysis by those of us still spiritually awake enough to protest it.

At this point in my concerned citizenship, I am moving beyond anger into an awe of the scope of the – well – I call it downright and seriously unchallenged EVIL. Looking for a more clinical term than that? How about patriarchal psychopathology?

In his acceptance speech for the 2005 Nobel Prize for Literature, Harold Pinter acknowledged the long trail of U.S. international war crimes as well as the lack of historical and current accountability by this government, corporate media and its citizenry for them.

“It never happened. Nothing ever happened. Even while it was happening, it wasn’t happening . . . You have to hand it to America . . . masquerading as a force for universal good. It’s a brilliant, even witty, highly successful act of hypnosis.”

Speaking of bottom-line and minimized evil, the specter of torture has reared its ugly head once again with President Donald Trump, an unabashed torture enthusiast, and the confirmation of his choice for Director of the CIA, “Bloody Gina” Haspel, notorious overseer of a secret black prison in Thailand where brutal torture was conducted. She was readily confirmed by a combination of Democratic and Republican senators. Senators, no doubt, who after fearful years of being labeled “too soft on terror” were not about to stick their necks out for decency and morality.

Too many of my fellow citizens, terminally influenced by an amoral corporate media, I am nonetheless at a loss for their easy acceptance of torture.

A Pew Research poll released in 2017 revealed that 48% of the US citizenry believed that some circumstances could justify the use of torture, and 49% maintained there were no circumstances that would ever justify it.

Every other US citizen is thumb’s up for the use of torture!

How disturbing over the last decade for the use of torture to be normalized and decriminalized by the military, citizenry, politicians, media, and those government lawyers who early on cravenly defied the obvious spirit of basic “Golden Rule” morality, the Constitution, and international law, to minimize the savagery of torture with euphemistic labels still parroted by much of the corporate media and or applied as fig leaves over the reprehensible.

“Enhanced interrogation techniques.” Thank you, New York Times. They are monstrous methods of inflicting debilitating psychological and physical anguish on victims even at times to the point of death. Techniques that, along with being illegal and immoral, are universally regarded as unreliable. They are reliable only in generating false confessions (which apparently was one of the goals of the original, craven perpetrators).

Torture is wrong. It is evil.

Reading Jacob Weisberg’s book, The Bush Tragedy, I learned that the main ego-armature for George W. Bush during his Yale University years was his participation in the fraternity culture.

Weisberg discloses that when “W” finally became head of a fraternity, he “ruled” at one point that lowly pledges be branded with real, Texas branding irons as part of their hazing.

When the Yale Daily News got wind of Bush’s sadistic and zealous intention, it disclosed it to the entire university community. The Yale administrative patriarchs immediately huddled together to deal with the negative P.R. (I’m guessing that far outweighed the actual physical or psychological welfare of the targeted pledges.)

The patriarchs’ solution? Rein in Mr. Bush, whose sociopathy they presumably minimized as an impish, “boys-will-be-boys”-ness. With the proverbial wink and nod, they insisted young Bush forego the branding irons and instead ONLY make use of scalding metal coat hangers or lit cigarettes to burn freshman flesh.

Say what?

Problem solved? This Yale incident foreshadowed and undoubtedly helped foster the ultimate creation of the craven and covert torture program by Bush and cabal, particularly with the ever-Satanic Dick Cheney.

The green-lighting of that more modest degree of torture speaks volumes of a troubling, profoundly unempathetic – sociopathic— macho-mindset within the deepest, most influential halls of America’s supposed intellectual and ruling class elite and mentors of said elite. They enabled and abetted young, already morally-deranged Master Bush, instead of role modeling and enforcing boundaries of basic human decency.

Just another rite of male passage? No wonder our American culture is so violent.

Andy Worthington, a prime advocate for victimized prisoners of Gitmo once reminded his audience during a NYC anti-war forum that in 2007 it was Senator Obama who declared:

“In the dark halls of Abu Ghraib and the detention cells of Guantánamo, we have compromised our most precious values. What could have been a call to a generation has become an excuse for unchecked presidential power.”

President Obama posed as a person of character most convincingly. It got him the White House. Twice.

Obama took no responsibility for his breathtaking, 180-degree reversals of golden promises of anti-Bush reform, pre-election.

The most obvious and necessarily immediate reforms that he failed to act on were the restoration of habeas corpus rights and the prosecution of the perpetrators of the clandestine Bush torture program, of those who had most reprehensibly exploited the post-9/11 fear, outrage and vengeance sensibility of much of the citizenry.

Obama’s policy decisions instead included deadly drone warfare, assassination kill lists, unlimited due-process-less detentions, military tribunals, countless corporate wars and U.S. military (corporate-opportunistic) garrisoning; and the continuation of Gitmo and God only knows what other black sites.

Obama’s posture was of an always rhetorically amiable and faux-reasonable Roman emperor with thumb’s up or down power over life and death. Many of his “subjects” adored him.

“We tortured some folks,” he finally admitted with a shrug at a press conference. As if it was not a colossally serious deal. “Folks”? Now there’s a friendly word.

This is heart-of-darkness territory. Obama chose to become an enabler of violators of human rights and then a violator of them himself. To add to the horror, Obama so readily was enabled by the media in this, the vast majority of Congress, and the vast majority of citizens.

Does the cult of celebrity in America overwhelm basic human decency? It seems so.

Do U.S. leaders as diverse (but all amoral) as Bush, Obama and Trump, along with callous political cronies, military leaders and media, only need to repeat the word “terror” enough times to have so much of America fall into a “do with us, our money, or anyone else whatever depraved, anti-humanity behavior you want” kind of swoon?

“To torture or not to torture” not only a hot news media topic, but fodder for jingoistic and sensationalized movies and TV shows (as the normalization of torture steamrolls on).

Loyalty and admiration for the troops (no matter what war crimes they may be committing) and/or blind trust in a national administrative and military authority should not override human decency. American “exceptionalism” should not override identifying and ending war criminality. It does.

The status quo establishment in America has us locked into perpetual war with untold mass global deaths and maiming and ever-increasing economic hardship for all humanity except for a tiny percentage of transnational elites.

A paradigm shift from a “profits over people” patriarchy to the humanism of partnership and cooperation is the answer, but that would require decisions based on a U.S. leadership, a U.S. media and a U.S. society that seriously honored empathy, justice and the law.

Ours do not.

Scott Peck asserts in his book, People of the Lie, that mental health is “dedication to reality at all costs.” This healthy sense of reality includes an in-touchness with one’s inner reality and a respect for the reality of others. It requires the capacity to fully think and FEEL.

This “feeling capacity” – including and especially EMPATHY — seems most vulnerable to dysfunction in our society and world, among both leaders and followers.

Feelings are profoundly under-valued in our U.S. society, and this feeling dysfunction is at the heart (or lack thereof) of the existing suffering and injustice.

Alice Miller, in her book For Your Own Good, refers to a “poisonous pedagogy” that can infect a society. She explains that that was what made the “good” (as in compliant) German population easy prey for the authoritarianism of Hitler.

Miller emphasizes that the capacity for empathy is not linked to one’s intelligence. She points out that both Hitler and Stalin had enthusiastic, highly intellectual followers.

If one is not able to respond with authentic feelings and thoughtful consideration to real life situations involving oneself or others, one is susceptible to “enthrallment” to the will of a toxic and controlling leader, asserts Miller.

She also contends that unprocessed trauma in one’s childhood, that is, when children are exposed to profound degrees of non-empathy from adult caretakers, will cause a crippling or shutting down of their feeling capacity later in adult life along with the potential of a sudden dismantling of their own will for the will of another. Miller explains that such trauma undoubtedly also happened to the original destructive caretakers during their childhoods in a continuing, generational cycle of dysfunction.

When trauma goes unprocessed by feelings, that is, it stays unfelt and un-grieved, it induces one to over-identify with an aggressor and enter his or her “thrall” later in adulthood. Also, such conditioning can induce one to project one’s negative feelings about oneself onto others as scapegoats. People with a disordered feeling capacity cannot handle and take mature responsibility for whatever guilt, shame, anger, frustration gets triggered within them in the present and must deflect it.

In People of the Lie, Scott Peck discusses the experiments of Dr. Stanley Milgram at Yale in 1961 which revealed how people were so readily intimidated by an authority in a white coat that they willingly would inflict what they thought were disabling electric shocks on strangers without question. Six out of 10 of the tested humans were willing to inflict serious harm on strangers from their own over-conditioning to the will of authority figures.

Peck emphasizes how obedience is the foundation of military discipline. “A follower is never a WHOLE person,” he maintains. Tragically, most people are far more comfortable in the “follower” role, leaving the responsibility and decision-making to those who step forward as leaders. When ruthless, reckless, immature, even sociopathic persons assume leadership positions, especially in an authoritarian system, the results can be tragic.

He also contends that a lack of conscience in human beings is partly due to “specialization”, a detachment from responsibility. One regards oneself as simply playing a role in a group scenario and thus can easily pass the “moral buck” so-to-speak to another part of the group. Troops shooting foreign civilians with a kind of “video-game aloofness”, for example will rationalize: “We don’t kill the people. Our weapons do. Whoever gave us these weapons and instructions are really responsible for the killing. Not us.”

Another example he cites is of how weapons manufacturers, sellers, lobbyists, etc. feel no personal responsibility for the consequences of violence from the weapons they distribute. The moral decision as to the use of the weapons is not part of their “specialized” roles. (And the financial profits are just too damn juicy to consider otherwise.)

Peck also cites the regressive shutting down of authentic and appropriate feelings in people due to a phenomenon called “psychic numbing.” The mind has the ability to anesthetize itself from feelings in the face of trauma. “The horrible becomes normal,” he writes.

Finally, he explains that groups bond often within a collectively egotistical groupthink by circling the proverbial wagons against a common, demonized enemy. “The other.” Scapegoating occurs when a group collectively projects the “badness” of themselves, too difficult to fathom, onto others.

James Lucas in an article for globalresearch.com back in 2015 declared that the United States has killed approximately 20 million people in 37 countries since the end of World War II.

How many of us can actually begin to feel and process the utter enormity of such a revelation? (One thinks of a quote attributed to the profoundly non-empathetic Joseph Stalin: “One death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic.”)

What say you to 20 million, America? Look what our UNCLE SAM has wrought.

Can we as a nation cultivate a collective capacity for “empathy”? A critical mass of us reached a breakthrough of collective conscience during the Vietnam era (though it took us long enough, admittedly).

Can each of us dedicate ourselves to a “reality at all costs” awareness for our individual as well as collective mental health?

The fast hardening of soft fascism seems to be happening with little conscious struggle among the masses who seem convinced we non-elites can get away with staying passive and will be supported by our corporate-captured politicians and media.

Can we face down and acknowledge the relentless criminality of our government and representatives (who are not really OUR representatives).

If such crimes are not acknowledged, called out and then accounted for they will continue and escalate in number and nature. Even more frightening, more and more and more “good” Americans will succumb to this “normalization” of evil.

Confronting evil is daunting. Confronting mass and institutionalized evil all the more so. Sickening. Spiritually exhausting. It even has been said to biologically weaken one’s thymus gland that supports the body’s immune system.

We must detach from seductive “cronyism” with authoritarians or authoritarian followers and encourage others to do so.

We must explore the details of what is going on in our citizen name, with our tax dollars and especially with our vulnerable, patriotic and earnest young who can become tragically confounded by and induced to perpetrate institutionalized evil policies.

We owe it to ourselves and our world to stay whole and awake as citizens. To speak truth to power. Once again, “a follower is not a whole person” as Scott Peck declared.

“This is why the individual is sacred. For it is in the solitary mind and soul of the individual that the battle between good and evil is waged and ultimately won or lost.”

It has been said there are three types of people in this world. A smallish group of people who make things happen. A larger group of people who watch things happen. (I am thinking, of those “good people who do nothing.”) And finally the third, excessively large and clueless group, exclaiming, “WHAT THE F*CK HAPPENED???”

Let’s try to shrink the second and third groups and expand the first by getting up and exercising those consciences.

#us militarism #us exceptionalism #us imperialism #us foreign policy

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