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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years

Text

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Tobirama Senju x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smutty smut

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oh so many, afab!reader, rough sex, dirty talk, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, way too much overstimulation, copious amounts of cum, oral sex male receiving, copious amounts of fluids, temperature play, virginity kink, breeding kink, praise kink, power kink, aphrodisiacs, stomach bulge, use of inanimate objects for stimulation, Tobi-rail-me, Tobirama's schlong is too big, womb bullying, no refractory period, strong language

A/N: Holy shit this is so long and I’m so sorry it took forever to get out but it’s finally here and I’m so relieved. Again, sorry it took so long but honestly this thing is monstrous. Twice the size of Madara's and almost twice the size of Hashirama's. There's a lot of lore and references in here to the previous Sacrifices and to future ones but you don't have to read either to fully enjoy this.

Thanks so much again to my amazing editing bestie @therantingfangirl and my artistic troll @skydaddy01 for all your hard work helping me make this so great~ You guys are the best. As well as all my tumblr friends who have been patiently waiting and encouraging me. And thank you so much to all of you who waited and enjoyed the previous ones.

Now, without further ado, please enjoy the final fic for the first season of Sacrificed. Sacrificed (Water)

Read it on AO3

A child had been chosen, a young girl only 8 years old. A child with a bright smile and a love of the color green, a child who’d never known a day of hardship, who’s skin was unblemished and who’s laughter could brighten even the darkest of situations—your little sister had been chosen to be the sacrifice. Your mother had dropped to her knees, your father brought to tears, and all you could do was sit and stare as it felt like the world came crashing down around you. How could they do that? Under who’s authority was she chosen?

You wanted to scream, to run through the village and gather an army in protest of such a grotesque decision, but you couldn’t. Your body refused to work with you, and you were only able to sit and stare as your little sister tried to comprehend why her family was suddenly so distraught. The officials who brought your world to ruin stood there and watched, unflinching and uncaring, as your precious little sister cupped your face in her chubby hands. There were tears in her eyes, which brought tears to yours.

“What’s wrong? What does that mean?” She was scared because you were scared, because your mother wouldn’t stop begging on her knees while your father squeezed his eyes shut and held his wife back from gripping the hem of the officials’ robes as she pleaded for mercy.

This isn’t right, you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wrapped your larger hands around the trembling ones on your cheeks. She’s just a child, if the gods are just they wouldn’t ask for such a sacrifice.

Why her and not you? You were an adult, passed marrying age, some of the village teens had started to call you the old maid because of your single status. They’d laugh as you’d yell back, telling them you weren’t old at all, but of course they never listened. That same question kept repeating itself in your mind. Why her and not me?

“That is all,” the highest official stated. “We will come to collect her for the ceremony next week.”

He turned, as did the other three, and they began to walk away. Why her? You tightened your grip on her small hands. Why must she pay the price for the rest of us? Why not- “me,” you called out. The officials paused and you removed you sister’s hands from your face and held onto them as you stood. “I volunteer in her place.” Your hands shook, you were more afraid than you’d ever been, but your resolve outweighed your fear. A child, not only her but especially one like her didn’t deserve to be so cruelly murdered for everyone else’s sake. “Is that acceptable?”

The group of four stuffy, old men seemed to ponder that as they looked at one another in a panic. They seemed to huddle together for a bit, every second that passed weighed on you like a stone. What if they said no?

I won’t let them take her.

Calls for a sacrifice didn’t happen often, normally the four-village alliance just went about their days as usual, but a drought had begun. The rains had stopped almost five months ago, the crops were suffering and therefore the livestock suffered, and with both the crops and livestock in short supply the strain on the people became too great to ignore. Even the fish supply, which was a staple for coastal villages like yours, had begun to grow scarce due to the low tides. It almost felt like the water was disappearing overnight. So a sacrifice was needed—am mortal that would be offered up to the water god as payment for the rains he offered.

No one knew what became of those who were sacrificed, whether they died at sea or, against all odds, were placed in the hands of a cruel god. They never returned, body or soul. Most assumed they died at sea. The religion among the people had begun to wane since the last sacrifice, many had believed the practice to be cruel and barbaric. The officials turned back toward your small family and cleared their throats. “We appreciate your willingness,” the oldest, who wore the most expensive robes, glanced nervously between the others before clearing his throat. “We will have the elder females come check to make sure you are worthy of the position.” They would check to make sure your maidenhood was intact, that was the one qualification you knew of, and you met it just fine.

“Very well.”

“They should arrive within the next few days, and if all goes well, we will arrive next week for you instead of your sister.” With that, they left, and all of your strength went with them.

You crumbled to the floor, your young sister began to panic, your mom clutched you and sobbed more as your father held all three of you tightly. You could only imagine how badly your teenage brother would react to the news, but somehow you felt numb. An all-consuming nothingness filled your chest as you wrapped your arms around your precious little sister.

Yes, your mind supplied. Its better this way.

The elder women came after two days and confirmed your virginity and whatever else it was they were looking for, after that you were told to go to the official’s lodgings every day to be prepared for the official ceremony. It was an odd affair, you were forced to kneel before a statue and pray to it daily, only allowed to eat lotus roots, and coached on the part of the ceremony that involved everyone else. You were never told what to do after your small boat was set afloat in the sea. Those preparations took up most of your day and when you’d return home your mother would try her best to put on a smile and act like everything was okay, your father would take every opportunity he could to embrace you, your little brother did his best to hide the tears in his eyes, and your poor little sister, who still didn’t quite understand but knew something was wrong, would burst into tears and cling to you all evening.

It was an overwhelming experience, but you fell into the routine like it was second nature, so when the day of the ceremony arrived you were thrown a bit off balance. Instead of lotus roots you were given nothing to eat, only a strangely thick fluid that warmed you to your core whenever you drank it. The time that had been allotted for prayer had become the time for grooming. You were placed into a warm bath of the same fluid, you figured it was to save on the limited supply of water, and they bathed you like a princess. The elder women massaged your skin and combed your hair to perfection. They painted your lips and eyes with crimson, and your abdomen and thighs were decorated with blue dragons that spewed water and seemed to move alongside dark storm clouds. Sitting still while being painted had been rather difficult, the softness of the brush and gentleness of the strokes had left you ticklish and tingly. You thought that viscous fluid had something to do with the latter, the more you drank it the warmer you became and the more sensitive you felt.

The women wrapped you in what felt like gauze. The soft material made the hairs on your body raise, you blamed it on the new sensitivity. They wrapped your breasts like they were being bound, then tied off the artificial top behind your neck; the bottoms were similar, wrapped around your hips and upper thighs until they formed a short skirt that covered enough but too little all the same and made it difficult to walk. Jewelry was placed in your hair, pearls of white and blue were scattered about your locks, and you estimated the price of half of those decorations alone to be worth more than four times the price of your family’s home. Probably enough money to feed your family and your neighbor’s families for two or three years, but that was only your estimation.

Your feet remained bare but they placed bands of silver with pendants of matching pearls around your ankles and wrists, they made a small jingle noise whenever you walked. When they felt you were decorated enough they pinned your hair up and placed a veil over your head. Your vision was obscured but the women took your hands and guided you to the ceremony area in the center of the four villages. The sun hung low in the sky and the people quieted down as you were brought beside the officials. The weight of what was about to happen truly began to settle in your chest and churn your stomach.

Its fine, you had to tell yourself. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been her, so its fine. As long as it’s not her, anything is fine.

“Great God of Water,” the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears drowned out most of the official’s grand speech, your brain was only able to catch onto the last portion. “We ask for your mercy and blessings upon us in these desperate times. Please, bless us with your rains once more. Bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you!”

The villagers were full of mixed emotions, though you could not see it, you could hear the hesitation and reluctance to cheer from the crowd. “You are doing us a great service,” the official told you quietly, he kept a solid grip on your bicep. “You will not be forgotten.”

You were led from the center of the villages to a palanquin where you were commanded to enter. Once you were secured inside you heard the cry of a familiar little voice. Your precious little sister called out and tried to run after you and into the palanquin. Your father ran after her and picked her up quickly to keep her from climbing inside. You poked your head out and lifted your veil to see her one last time. A pain unlike any other gripped your heart as you looked at her tear-stricken face, and the frowns of grief on your other three family members. “I have to go now, little lily,” your voice almost cracked, and your eyes filled with tears as you called her by her nickname. “Be sure to watch over mom and dad for me, and don’t do anything to worry your older siblings too much.”

“O-okay,” she sniffled pathetically.

“I love you, all of you,” you whispered, unsure whether they would hear it or not, before lowering your veil again and righting yourself in the vehicle. If you had said anything more, or looked at their face’s any longer, leaving would have become unbearable. Your heart squeezed again, and you had to hold back the tears that threatened to spill and ruin the hard work and time that went into your face paintings. The palanquin stopped after what felt like only a few moments. A man you recognized as one of the many officials assisted you in your exit and began to lead you toward a well-known pier.

The sounds of the ocean had once calmed you, a relaxing sound from the time you were young, now the sounds only heightened your anxiety. The other officials followed behind as you were led down a set of steps and told to step into a decorated boat fit for one. There were strings of blue and white flowers placed along the edges of the boat and inside, the soft petals cushioned your feet as you stepped in. The boat rocked and you had to keep your balance as you clutched the elder man’s hand for dear life. Some of the water splashed against your feet and into the bottom of the boat, and you feared that there was a leak somewhere.

Its fine, you repeated to yourself, over and over. A mantra to try and collect yourself. You’re doing this for your little sister, for her, for your family. Its fine.

“Sit down carefully,” the man said as he helped usher you onto the cushioned bench and let go of your hand. You sat stock still, back straight, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your gauzy coverings to occupy your swirling mind. What was going to happen to you?

Don’t worry about it, just focus on how you’re protecting your little lily, your family.

The material stretched under the stress of your nervous fingers. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you anything more,” the high official began from his spot beside the one that had guided you. He handed you a glass bottle of the same liquid you had been drinking all day. “For what it’s worth, you are far braver than anyone I have ever met.”

You stared at him blankly, you were panicking, how is that brave? You wanted nothing more than to jump out of that boat, back onto the docks, and run away. But you knew that if it wasn’t you, it would be her and that was unacceptable. “Farewell, I wish you only happiness in your next life.”

With that, they set your boat adrift, almost in perfect sync with the sun dipping under the horizon.

It was a strange sensation, an isolation you knew not many could understand. You were alone, set adrift in the sea, not knowing what would happen to you. The waves pushed your craft along, rocked it, made it creak. Luckily for you, you didn’t get seasick easily, but the constant motion was disorienting. There was nothing to do but fall deeper into your racing thoughts; wondering how you would get out of this and whether it would end with you living or dead. Maybe you’d die of thirst, cooked like a fish in a pan under the sun after a few days of only the strange milky fluid to drink. That fluid certainly didn’t help with the heat.

A strange light from the corner of your eye caught your attention and you lifted your veil to get a clearer image. You looked into the water, leaning as gently as you could to one side. The light was soft, glowing and pulsing with its glow as it drifted just within sight. One soft purple glow became two, then became a third with more pinks and yellows; more and more lights began to show up just under the surface. They moved with the current, going in the same direction as your boat, and you stared in awe at the sheer number of soft lights. They surrounded your vessel on both sides, each one seeming like its own entity.

The blue lights were the most beautiful, they were few but seemed to dance to a tune only they knew. You dipped your hand under the water’s dark surface, doing your best to try to reach one of the creatures. One hit your hand and it almost felt like nothing. It flinched, its glowing body maneuvering around your hand to continue its path. “Are these jellyfish?” You tilted your head to the side, enraptured by the phenomenon before you.

You wondered how many others had witnessed such a beautiful display, and with so many all at once. Jellyfish were not rare, many washed up on shore or got caught in fishing nets as they floated with the current, but never had you seen any that glowed. It felt like a private show, just for you.

Was the water god taking pity on you? The thought made you frown. Allowing you to see some unseen wonders of the ocean as thanks for your sacrifice? Did the beauty of these creatures really make up for what was to come? If they really were from the water god- you cut off that train of thought, unsure what to feel. There was a strange tightness to your chest that you were unfamiliar with. Bitterness maybe? Twisted reverence and self-pity melded together in an uncomfortable whirl of feelings? You clicked your tongue.

The water began to grow louder, almost restless in sound. Reluctantly you looked away from the beautiful jellyfish to search for the source of the noise. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary that you could see, but it felt like your boat was going faster, the water’s volume only increasing as your boat continued on. You glanced back down to the jellyfish below you and couldn’t tell if anything was wrong. They seemed to be drifting at the same speed you were. “The current must’ve picked up.”

To add to the beauty of your private show, you began to place some of the flower petals that decorated the deck of your boat on the water. Scattering them about to add another layer to the multitude below you. The blue and white petals decorated the surface and accented the glow nicely. You laid your head on the boat’s edge, relaxing as the moon shone high in the sky. The sound of the rushing waves, the motion that had nauseated you only an hour or two prior began to lull you to sleep. You continued to scatter petals as your eyes fell closed, your overheated fingers relaxing against the chill of the sea. Yes, you thought, mind caught between the waking world and the slumbering one. It’ll be fine like this. Everything will be fine.

“Lord Tobirama,” you whispered, sleepiness creeping into your voice. “Please, save my family.”

A flash of light lit up the sky, almost like a strike of lightning but without the ferocity of thunder. The waves grew larger, you clung to the edge of your wooden craft as it rocked with the aggravated water. It seemed even the jellyfish had begun to struggle, as their lights began to dim and disappear, leaving you on your own once again. “What in the,” the winds picked up and you held your hair down. Misty water began to spray everywhere, and you fell back against the deck as a particularly rough wave crashed against your boat. The raging water was deafening, the moon and stars were not enough to illuminate the now dark waters. You sat up and immediately wished you hadn’t.

A telltale swirling had begun in the waves a short distance ahead and you knew that meant certain death for you. Your panic began to rise again, your knuckles turned white as you clutched the back of the boat as if that would save you. What could save you? Was there anything? I don’t want to die, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, the winds and water whipped your hair and made those expensive pearls fall from their delicate places. The veil was torn from your head, cold sea water crashed against your back and into your boat and filled the bottom with a layer of water, the flower petals floated up to your ankles and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Before your wooden vessel even dipped below the angry waves you were soaked to the bone. The whirlpool took hold of your barely afloat vessel and you never felt so hopeless. A deafening crack resounded and you stumbled like a newborn fawn. You opened your eyes in time to watch as your face crashed into the sea, the overwhelming current pulling you under and it felt like it was trying to pull you apart. You choked on the water, too startled to make any rational decisions. Your eyes stung, all you could see was darkness, the current kept pushing and pushing at you, you couldn’t tell which way was up and which led further into the depths. Someone help!

Something incredibly cold, colder than the water touched your outstretched arm and began to pull you through the never-ending darkness. You sputtered and coughed as you broke through the water’s surface. Your eyes stung, so you kept them closed. Your lungs, nose, and throat burned as you did your best to expel all of the salty liquid you had swallowed. Whatever had pulled you out had pulled you to a sandbar or something of the sort as you were able to stay on your knees and keep your airways above water.

Once you had finished expelling the water from your lungs, you greedily began to suck in air, as if you swallowed enough of it you’d never drown again. After a bit of calming down and realizing you were no longer on deaths door you felt alright enough to open your stinging eyes. For a while everything was blurry, no matter how many times you blinked to calm the stinging sensation it remained. Though everything was distorted, you could see that you were in a dark structure of some kind. The body of water that had been an ocean before was now a large square pool with lily pads and lotus floating atop the surface, a lily pad had even clung to your left side. The water came up to your waist while you remained on your knees.

You felt your panic begin to rise once again. How is that possible? I was just in the middle of the ocean how can I-

“You’re alive,” a deep timber. You looked up and saw the blurry outline of a tall person in front of you. Had he been there before? His feet were bare as he seemed to stand on the water’s surface like it was solid ground. All of your well-earned air felt like it was punched out of your lungs. “Good.”

From what you could make out, this man had light hair. Maybe white or silver? Your vision was still too blurry to tell. He had on some sort of long deep blue draping, a robe maybe? The pants he wore underneath the draping were dark in color, you guessed black, and the trimmings on the robe were of a silver variety. One of his large hands reached for your face, and you flinched at the chill of his touch. You closed your eyes, fear gripping your form, but all you felt was the gentle caress of his thumb across both of your eyelids. His hand pulled back as soon as he’d finished and the stinging that had plagued your vision disappeared.

When you opened your eyes again you were hesitant but felt relief at being able to see everything clearly once more. The white-haired man stood high above you his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You were right, it had been a royal blue robe, with filigree and dragons depicted in a sparkling silver thread. His skin was so pale, almost like moonshine incarnate. He had three red markings on his face, one on each cheek and one on his defined chin, each one came to a pointed tip towards the center of his face. There was a tuft of white fur spiked at the top of his collar, it matched his spiked hair.

He wore a frown on his face, seemingly greatly displeased. Under his silken robe he seemed to be wearing a tight black shirt, resembled under armor in appearance and it ended midway up his neck, covering his defined adam’s apple. “You,” he began, the baritone of his voice made your face heat and brought a shiver down your spine. The man seemed to think carefully about what he wanted to say, his arms flexed, you were entranced by the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his piercing red eyes never left your form. A sigh escaped him, you tilted your head, he began to disrobe before tossing the soft material at you. It covered your face and confused you. “Put that on and follow me.”

You frowned at the thought of ruining such nice material with your wet form. It was such a luxurious fabric; you didn’t think you’d ever felt anything like it before or would ever feel anything like it again. The more you touched it, the more you realized your dripping fingers didn’t bother the material at all. It was almost like the water didn’t exist, the material neither repelled or soaked in the water from your form so you finally gave in. It took you a minute to stand, he faced away from you as you stood, and you realized he was being polite.

The gauze-like material had soaked in a lot of water and loosely hung from your form. Your breasts were almost entirely bare, your right nipple on full display, and your sort of skirt had sagged so much your entire lower belly was exposed and displayed the fullness of your hips. You could only guess what your backside looked like and hastily wrapped the blue robe around yourself. “I—” you began, voice hoarse from the strain of swallowing and expelling sea water. “Where am I?”

The man turned his head a bit to glance at you and you assumed he deemed your appearance appropriate because he began to walk away. His feet left ripples against the water’s surface as he stepped on it like flooring; meanwhile, the water still swallowed your feet and up to your shins. He couldn’t possibly be—

“You are in my domain.”

“Your domain?”

“Yes.”

You were struggling to keep up with his pace, your body still bit wobbly from the adrenaline drain.

“I am Tobirama.”

“Tobirama!?” The Tobirama? Tobirama Senju, the water god? The one your sister had almost been sacrificed to and the one that you had been? He was real? And alive and well apparently. Without the robe, more of his physique was on display. His back was muscled, his shoulders broad but waist on the slimmer side. The shirt he wore had cut outs at his hips that exposed more of his milky skin and teased the defined bones there.

“That’s Lord Tobirama to you.”

You dropped to your knees quickly, your arms outstretched in front of you with your palms toward the heavens. You placed your forehead flat against the cold black stone at the edge of the pool, your quick action had caused the waters of the pool to begin to move again, the sash on the robe had untied itself and the cold water against your hot warm flesh startled you. “Lord Tobirama, god of water and keeper of knowledge, please send your blessed rains to my people.”

When he did not respond you decided to continue. “My family—my village, they will starve soon without them. Please show us your mercy.” Your lips trembled, your throat tightening at the thought of your family. “I know I am insignificant and unworthy but—” the high priest’s concluding line came to mind as you tried to win his favor, bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you! “Please use my life to spare theirs.”

The silence weighed heavy after your pleading, and you dared not lift your head. Was he thinking? Was he angry? Had he disappeared? Your mind raced with questions, with thoughts and feared outcomes. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, so you squeezed them shut. This was it, wasn’t it? You’d die by angering him, not having saved anyone in your family let alone the youngest. I’m sorry little lily, everyone.

Cold, very cold, fingers tipped your chin upward. He held your head in place to make you look up at him. His face remained neutral, which was better than you had expected. Those red eyes scanned your features, your eyes were wide and dewy. You had never expected the god of water to be so handsome, so human-like and yet still so ethereal. The fingers that held your face were so large and strong, you knew you couldn’t break away unless he allowed it. You wondered what he was looking for as his eyes scanned your own again.

Those cold hands moved and began to help you to your feet, they allowed you to lean on him a bit, your twitching fingers gripping his forearms tightly as you balanced yourself and hoped for the best all at the same time.

“I cannot alter the course of nature,” was his simple reply. So simple and yet even more crushing than the sentence that had announced your sister as a sacrifice. “I will send you back in a few days’ time, mortals cannot stay in the realm of gods for too long. You will remain here in the meantime.”

Your grip on his arms tightened. He was so close, but you felt so far removed that you didn’t notice the minute twitch of his fingers against your hands or the subtle downturn of his luscious lips as he watched your face crumble. The fact that you were stuck there hadn’t even registered until later on when he led you to the room you would occupy while there. Tobirama allowed you two rooms, one a very luxurious bedroom, decorated in dark marble walls with glowing pearl like stones for light, all material made of the same type of royal blue and silver silk as the robe he encouraged you to keep on. The room was so beautiful it made you feel out of place. There were bookshelves that adorned the walls beside the double doors; they were made of pearl with many tomes and texts, scrolls and leather-bound books, all worn and delicately placed like they’d been read and reread many times over.

The second room you were allowed was an equally exquisite bathing chamber. Again, the walls were dark marble, inlaid with pearlescent accents. The same pearl like stones glowed for light, and an empty pool similar in shape to the one you had emerged from rest at the center of the room, the edges and inside decorated with bright silver. You wondered how often humans, or even other gods, used these rooms but you didn’t voice your question. Your heart still felt heavy with the knowledge that you were of no use to your people or family.

“When I go back, will I be able to be with my family again?” The question left you before you could think about it.

The god closed his eyes and crossed his arms again, a soft sigh left him as he began to walk toward the heavy double doors that led back into the hallway. “I suggest bathing before going back to your bedchambers, that ceremonial makeup you mortals love so much has smudged everywhere from the sea water.”

His avoidance of your question irritated you.

“What use is going back then? If I can’t save them, if I can’t see them, I’d rather you have left me to die in that whirlpool.”

He paused, his back visibly straightening, before he opened the doors and left you alone in the unfamiliar room. The sound of the door closing shut behind him was loud and it brought your negative emotions to a head. You felt so helpless, so hopeless. The weight of your emotions brought you to your knees again, but you began to slam your fists against the polished floors in your anguish. What use were you? Was this situation? It hadn’t mattered that you took your sister’s place, she would still starve along with the rest of your loved ones. You hadn’t truly believed in the water god but some small voice in the back of your head had whispered the possibility of salvation, which you hadn’t realized had become a hope.

You cried your fill, cried until your eyes hurt and wailed until your throat gave out in protest. When your body wouldn’t let you cy any longer you wiped your eyes and nose and just sniffled. There was no way for you to tell how much time had passed, but a bath and sleep sounded like the best you could do at that moment. You stood and removed the robe and began to remove the loose gauze you had been wrapped in and used it to wipe off the smudges of paint that were left along your body. Across the back wall was a large mirror that you approached. Your reflection looked rough.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, the beautiful makeup was smudged, your hair was fizzled and damp with half dried sea water, the pearls and decorations that remained were strewn about in a tangled mess. A sigh left you as you began to pick out the decorations one by one and placed them on the floor beside you. When you finished you were surprised to find that the pool had filled with water without you having to do anything, but the more you thought about it the more it made sense. You were in the home of the water god after all.

After your bath, which was at best lukewarm, you replaced the blue robe and walked back to the room that you had been given. You were so tired, you decided to flop down on the plush bed. It was so soft, but so unfamiliar. What was there for you to do now? When you were expelled from the realm of the gods, where would you go? Where would you be? How did it all work? Those questions kept running through your mind until your body could no longer stay awake.

A few cycles of sleep passed by like that, you assumed they were days but you couldn’t be too sure. When you woke up there was always fresh fruit placed carefully on the bedside table for you to eat. You would partake in the familiar foods as you explored the hallways and rooms of the domain. You knew you were told to stay within those rooms but there was not much else for you to occupy your time with. Eventually you stumbled upon where Tobirama seemed to spend most of his time.

It looked to be a study, comprised of the same dark marble and pearl mixture, with a desk like structure raised from the ground for him to sit in front of. Bookshelves like the ones in your chambers lined all four walls, each organized but in a chaotic manner. The books and tomes in that room looked far more used than the ones in your own, which was quite impressive. The first time you stumbled upon him there he seemed to be studying some sort of scroll, brush in hand for note taking. Despite your anger toward him you couldn’t help but admire his appearance. Everything about him was enticing, from the elongated bridge of his nose to the way he furrowed his brow in concentration. The flexing of his shoulder blades as his arms moved and the subtle tapping of his bare foot as he worked felt more human to you than you wanted him to be.

Despite your one oversized robe he seemed to have found another to wear, this one was black with white dragons and square like patterns made of royal blue. A similar fur to the one that lined your collar lined his and you wondered if it was because he was cold. His skin had certainly felt freezing. After watching him for a while you’d move on to a different room, your second favorite one to visit. It was the room you had arrived in. The pool you had come out of laid at the center of the room, under a large skylight with columns of white marble seemingly holding the structure up. The sky that was shone was so unfamiliar that if you hadn’t known you were in another realm that would’ve told you immediately.

The sky remained dark, but a dark blue of sorts, with patterns of light that looked like water reflections being the only source of motion. The reflective patterns were very bright, and they shone down on the center of the water pool where an altar like structure sat. It was made of the same white marble as the four columns, and it had engravings along the edges of the pedestal. The only one you could make out read a sacrifice of flesh and blood and it made you wonder if this structure had been a temple at one point.

At the other end of that room, across from the altar and pool sat a throne like chair that seemed to be made of pearl. It was freezing to the touch and felt rather uncomfortable when you sat on it. The seat itself was far too large for you, you estimated two of you could sit in it with some room to spare, but you weren’t sure if it would be equally roomy for Tobirama. He was a rather tall man, with an athletic frame, but you thought he’d fit perfectly in the center with just enough space on both sides. The throne made you feel rather lonely, looking out at the empty room and still pool from that spot felt empty. You decided to sit on the altar and watch the sky from there, rather than the lonely throne.

When time kept stretching by, with only fruits, nuts, and roots to eat, and the oversized structure thoroughly explored without forcing your way into locked rooms, you began to comb through the texts in your room. Some of them you couldn’t read, written in some other language or the wording was too difficult to understand, but some were rather interesting. Most of the scrolls seemed to be religious texts, about the different gods and their regions of reign.

Like the sun god and the god of forests, Tobirama was revered as a long-standing deity. The tome you read had claimed him to be the younger brother of the god of forests. That same tome talked about other gods, one was even supposedly a descendent of Tobirama but he had been one of the punished so his name was blotted out of the text. Some of the other books talked about Madara, the sun god, and how strong he was and the many theories behind his rise while other gods like Tobirama and Hashirama, the god of forests, were left to decline. That particular part must have been outdated, as Lord Hashirama’s region and strength had seemed to quadruple in the past 30 years. Your mother had been born in that village and she had spoke about the abundance and grace of the forest god.

You paused a moment. The story your mother told said that Lord Hashirama had regained his strength after falling in love with a female human that had been given to him as a sacrifice and one of the handwritten scrolls you read had theorized that Lord Madara’s great strength came from the yearly sacrificial ritual his region practiced. “Then is Tobirama unable to change nature because he isn’t strong enough? Because there hasn’t been enough human sacrifice?”

You thought back to when you knew to be the last human sacrifice given to the water god, which was before you were born. How many years had it been? Your father had been the one to tell you about it, and about the outcry of the people afterward. Even when telling the story he seemed disgusted by what had occurred. “He was only 11? Or was father 10?” Either way it seemed there hadn’t been a sacrifice made to Tobirama in almost 50 years before you.

So what was different about you? Had you not done something important to complete the ritual to give him strength? Were you even enough? Did it have to do with your age? You couldn’t recall how old the previous sacrifice was but you thought she had been an older woman. Burning with determination and questions, you clutched the theory tightly to your chest and made your way toward the water god’s study.

You barged in, too focused on your emotions to think about the disrespect you were showing a god. He had paused his writing when you entered, his sleeve held back in one hand to prevent ink stains and brush in the other. The water god looked handsome as he always did, same black long-sleeved shirt but he wore another royal blue robe, the pattern on it was of silver water lilies and koi swimming beneath. It was beautiful, and he left the robe open for all to admire the tightness of his shirt against his skin. Tobirama looked at you calmly and waited for you to explain why you interrupted him.

“What’s wrong with me?” You blurted out, sophistication and eloquence being two words that could not be used to describe you at that moment.

“What?”

“The scroll,” you unfurled said paper and pointed it at it, approaching closer to his desk. He set his brush down and took it carefully from your grasp. “You don’t have the power to send rains or to even send me back, do you?”

He remained silent, his sharp eyes glanced up at you before his jaw clenched and he looked down at the scroll again. “You haven’t had a sacrifice in 50 years, so your strength has dwindled.”

“Wrong,” he stated calmly and set the scroll down on his desk as he crossed his arms over his chest. A habit he seemed to have. “It’s been almost 200 years.”

“What?”

He let out a sigh and looked you in the eye, a slight frown on his lips. “Gods often sleep to conserve power; I believe I have been asleep for about 200 or so years.”

“Then the previous sacrifices?”

He shook his head and his silence weighed on you. You pressed your lips together and rubbed your arm slowly. “Why did you wake up then?”

“I am unsure,” he paused and tilted his head back. “When I last went to sleep, I was certain my brother and I would sleep for the rest of eternity, but it seems there was just enough prayer to reawaken me.”

“Lord Hashirama had weakened too?”

“Yes, we believed that humans no longer needed gods so we decided it would be better to fall silent.”

“But not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lord Hashirama’s region has been flourishing for at least three decades now. I assume he’s still awake even now.”

Tobirama looked to the side as he processed that information. “Madara too,” you continued. “He receives a yearly sacrifice even now and his people call themselves the Empire of the Sun and have yet to diminish. They are currently attempting to unite the continent.”

The water god’s fists clenched and his eyes narrowed at that news. “Damn him,” he muttered under his breath. “And has my brother done anything to stop this? To stop him?”

“I don’t know, I only know about the legends.” You rubbed your sleeve covered arm a bit hard and bit your bottom lip before asking. “So what do I need to do to restore your power? Is there anything I can do? I am your sacrifice after all.”

He let out a loud huff through his nose as he closed his eyes. The water god tapped against his arm as he seemed to think on things. Your chest tightened with emotion. Could you really end up saving your family after all? Nothing would please you more, even if it was something scary like letting him devour you whole, you would do it without hesitation. Tobirama uncrossed his arms and placed them on the desk in front of him.

“There is but I’m not sure how much power I’ll be able to gain from your worship alone,” he began to move his papers and scrolls aside. “Sit here, we’ll run a test first.”

Your heartbeat picked up. A test? Would it hurt? You approached his desk anyway and nervously sat atop it, making sure to sit facing toward him. His proximity made your face heat up and he sat and observed you closely. His eyes looked you up and down, and at the height you were atop his desk you were able to make direct eye contact without looking up at him. He placed his hands at your hips and leaned forward. His breath fanned your lips as your skin began to flush. “Are you willing?”

“Yes,” you whispered, enchanted by his voice and proximity. “I’ll do anything.”

“Then let’s begin the test,” was his only warning before his large hands gripped your hips and his mouth pressed to yours. His lips were cold, so very cold, and the same could be said for his hands. His low temperature permeated the silk of the robe and made your skin prickle. You wanted to try to warm him up.

Anxiety rushed through you as you felt his cold tongue press against your lips. What did that mean? You had never kissed anyone before, but his cold touch made your body heat up. Without much thought you wrapped your arms around his neck and unconsciously pulled him in closer. His tongue pressed harder against your lips and it forced your them to part. So cold, an appendage that was typically warm was practically an ice block in your mouth and you shivered.

He groaned as he pulled back, you were out of breath, an embarrassment unlike any other filling your chest. Did he pull away because you were bad? Did you fail the test? Were you not enough? You almost whimpered at the thought, your body continued to shiver.

“Are you,” he seemed to shiver too. “Are you still untouched?”

Heat rose, you could feel it span your entire face and the top of your chest as you nodded in embarrassment. “Yes,” you whispered, nervous. “Is that going to be an issue?”

“No,” he said quickly, his voice having taken on a deeper tone. “Are you cold?”

“You seem colder than me, your skin is ice.”

He smirked a bit and moved back before standing. “Stay there, I’ll be back shortly.”

Tobirama hadn’t lied, he had come back rather quickly, but with a black flask in hand. He sat back down easily and handed you the container gently. “Drink all of this and then we can continue.” Your body thrummed at the idea of continuing, so you did your best to chug whatever it was in the flask. It was viscous, and if you could see the color you knew it would be the same as the strange fluid the priests made you drink before the ceremony. Immediately your body warmed, and you shook from the contrast in temperatures. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice made your toes curl. “Now lean back and sit still.”

You did as you were told and almost gasped as you watched his deft fingers begin to untie the sash for the robe. “Wait, I’m not—”

“This is a part of the test,” he began. His cold fingers pressed against the naked flesh of your abdomen as he pushed the robe open. You felt hypersensitive, that light touch alone was almost enough to make you moan. “Stay still, and quiet, and then we can move on to the real ritual.”

“S-So, am I enough?”

“Possibly,” he muttered as he lightly caressed his hands up the sides of your form and stopped at your breasts. His cold temperature in contrast with your warmer one caused your nipples to harden; you pressed your thighs together as you watched his pupils dilate at the sight of your naked breasts. The light-haired man’s fingers twitched, and he ran them lightly along your breasts toward your pebbled flesh. Your eyes closed in embarrassment and a whine attempted to leave your throat. He paused, his eyes looking back at your face before landing on his forgotten calligraphy brush. “We’ll have to see how this works out won’t we? Little mortal, spread your legs for me so we can begin.”

You swallowed the noise that had threatened to leave your throat as you nodded. You opened your legs slowly, embarrassed by your nakedness and the obvious wetness that had begun to spill from you. If you could’ve, you would’ve brought your hands down immediately to cover yourself, but that would be disobedient. There was an unnerving feeling of obligation, both to stay obedient to him as your god and to hear him praise you more. The tip of his brush hit your collarbone and swirled down toward your chest, and you jumped at the sensation. He clicked his tongue, “Behave, little girl. Stay still and quiet.”

The brush followed back up the trail, leaving black ink along in its wake. The water god brought the brush back down a similar path, but this time he brought it all the way down to your nipple. You wanted to cry out, the tickling sensation circling against your hardened peak went straight to your core and you could feel your clit twitch. He continued to circle it, over and over, your breathing picked up. Surely that was allowed, right? Tobirama brought the tip of the brush down from there and trailed it along the underside of your breast down to your lower belly.

Unintentionally, your stomach flinched at the cold brush. He clicked his tongue again and brought his sharp eyes up to your face. “I’m sorry, my Lord I didn’t—” he shushed you, cutting your apology short.

“Remember to be quiet,” he told you, his other hand creeping up to your mouth. None too gently, he placed his index and middle finger into your waiting lips and his jaw tightened as you began to suckle on them instinctively. “There’s an obedient sacrifice.” You whimpered at his words, and he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth, back toward your throat. “Do my words affect you that much?”

His eyes trailed down to the heated area between your legs and he tsked again, his tone sounded smug. “You’re so wet, from what? A kiss and some light caresses? Are you so innocent that even this little is too much?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, you could feel your clit twitch under his gaze, he let out a breathless chuckle. The brush began to move along your lower belly, right above your womb he swirled the ink in a cyclical pattern. Once satisfied, he trailed it back upward toward your neglected breast and paid extra attention to the nipple once again. By that point you couldn’t help it, you sucked on his fingers as hard as you could, but a whimper still left you. Tobirama kept up his swirling, you were so sensitive, your lower body unconsciously pushed forward as you felt your clit throb hard. “Mmm!”

It felt weird, you had never felt anything like that before. Your entire body twitched, and your toes curled, you felt a rush of wetness start to leak onto his desk. The building in your lower belly had relaxed but your sensitivity only increased as he continued to tease your nipple with his brush. When you opened your eyes again there was a definitive redness to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his eyes were entirely focused on your throbbing sex and his breath was noticeably labored.

“So disobedient.” The feeling in your chest tightened, your high cut short. You disappointed him? His voice had kept its husky tone. The brush left your body entirely and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “You couldn’t keep still or quiet,” he began to trail the brush down your abdomen once more, a swirling pattern that laid right over your womb once more and used your heightened sensitivity against you. Your sex ached, virginal channel twitching in anticipation of something you knew little about. “Those who misbehave must receive punishment.”

The brush trailed down further; the ink covered bristles marking your pelvis before drawing over your mound. “I’ll give you one more chance to behave. If you remain quiet and still, I’ll let you cum again,” his sharp red eyes, pupils all but swallowing the irises, stared into the depths of yours. You nodded your assent, and he kept the eye contact as the brush moved to your folds.

He watched you like a hawk, looking for every minute twitch and flinch, as he began to circle your labia before moving the brush toward your dripping flesh. It was incredibly difficult not to whine as the brush head grazed over your weeping entrance. Tobirama’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he started his assault on your neglected bud. You bit your bottom lip to keep from whining, the pressure was too light. The water god’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to read your mind and pressed the brush harder, moving it up and down in a lapping like motion.

You wanted to close your eyes but his own were too intense, too enticing, you couldn’t look away. “You’re trying so hard to please me,” he taunted, a tight smirk on his perfect lips. “Can you feel it? Every time I speak to you, your hole twitches.” He brought the brush down to circle your clenching entrance to emphasize his point. “Does my voice make you ache?”

A whimper almost escaped you.

“So wet and warm,” he turned the brush over and began to prod at you with the rounded end. “Little girl, this lewd thing,” his cold hands cupped your sex and you let out a quiet groan, your eyes moving skyward. “Such a salacious reaction is unbecoming of a virgin.”

The water god removed his palm and brush and brought them up to his face. “Look here,” he commanded, and you obeyed. His palm glistened with your slick and the calligraphy brush was soaked through, your fluids mixed with the black ink and dripped down his cleaner palm. “You’ve ruined my favorite brush, and my palm is soaked despite barely making contact. So obscene,” he brought his palm to his mouth and lapped at his palm, a visible shiver rattling him at the taste of you. His red eyes remained focused on your own as he cleaned his palm. “What is a god to do with a sacrifice like you?”

You were at your wits end; you couldn’t sit still or remain quiet anymore. It was too much, you were sweating from both heat and effort, your sex throbbed and ached unlike anything you’d ever felt before, your breasts were tender and felt heavy under the knowledge that he could be holding them instead. Even your fingers itched to hold onto him somehow, to tear away at his arrogance and get at the flesh beneath that cloth. A whine that felt closer to a sob bubbled in your chest and threatened to escape your lips.

“You did very well that time,” the god told you, almost affectionately. “Shall I reward you now?”

“Yes,” you cried, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Please, my lord, I can’t—”

“Enough,” he hushed you. The white-haired man stood and placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and the other approached your heated sex again. You unconsciously pushed your hips forward towards his hand and he allowed his palm to make contact again. This time, however, he pressed the heel of his palm against your aching bud and ground down on it. “Cry out to your heart’s content.”

A loud moan escaped you and you threw your head back. Your reached forward and grabbed at his thick wrist to hold his palm in place as you sloppily rode it. Using his hand on the small of your back, he brought you closer to him and pressed his cold lips to yours. The kiss was sloppy, you were fueled purely on instinct. He seemed unbothered by your lack of experience, and he used his tongue and lips to guide yours. When you were right at the precipice from your rough grinding he pulled his palm back and swallowed your cries of protest.

Tobirama did not leave you waiting for long, his cold fingers returned, and he prodded one at your entrance. You were so wet that he penetrated you easily. It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs, you pulled away from the kiss to gasp as your body tried to register the foreign feeling. He pushed his finger in deeper and you felt your walls squeeze around it. “Nngh,” you groaned. The cold of his finger contrasted so starkly with the heat of your insides. He began to pump his finger, in and out, and the friction felt so good. “Mmm.”

“You’re gripping my finger so tightly,” he pressed a kiss to your exposed collarbone. “Spread your legs more, I’ll be adding another finger shortly.”

You nodded dumbly, your mind and body reeling from the pace he had set. His thumb reached up to circle your clit as he added a second finger. You were thankful for it, as the second finger made the stretch a bit more uncomfortable, but you were able to experience the same amount of pleasure thanks to his thumb. The noises that came from your body were sloppy and wet. The faster he went the more your juices sloshed and dripped, the louder your moans became. “Such filthy sounds you’re making. So depraved, like a whore.”

“N-No,” you whimpered. “I’m not—”

“Your pretty hole would beg to differ. Now that it’s felt my touch, its begging for more. Shall I add another finger?”

The tip of his ring finger began to press inside, and you shuddered, almost drooling. It felt like too much, you had never had anything or anyone inside of you before. His third, thick and equally cold, finger slid inside and the stretch burned. You grunted, feeling like you’d been punched in the gut and the water god began to scissor your insides. “This is all in preparation for the sacrificial ritual.”

“Ritual,” you panted.

This isn’t the ritual?

He hum in concentration, his digits began to thrust in and out, then stretch, then in and out again at a brutal pace. Tobirama removed the hand that had been holding the small of your back and used it to undo his robe’s sash. The silken material slid open easily and with that same free hand he began to palm at the oversized tent in his trousers. You almost balked as he began to pull his clothing down to reveal the agitated flesh, he groaned loudly at being free of the confines.

Tobirama was long, exceedingly long, and generously thick with a purpled tip leaking with copious amounts of precum. He was so hard, and you almost burst when you realized that you were the reason he was throbbing. Your eyes were entranced as he began to pump himself slowly, your hips bucking to meet his fingers with more vigor. His thumb flicked your clit and all you could think about was trying to fit that beast inside of you. “Lord Tobirama,” you cried out. “I feel nnn- weird. S-Something’s coming!”

“Then cum, clench around my fingers and cry out for me.”

“Mmm, my lord,” you whined pathetically, your eyes squeezed shut and you bit into your bottom lip. He kept pumping you with his fingers, his thumb baring down on your clit with almost a painful amount of pressure. His continued work heightened your orgasm and elongated it. Soon his fingers, his thumb in particular, became too much and you began to squirm in overstimulation.

“The ritual,” he grunted, the sounds of his hand working his cock melding with the sounds of your wet sex. “Mortal worship is what gives us strength. And what greater form of praise is there than sex.”

“Please, your fingers, it’s too much,” more whining, you sounded a bit hoarse, but your body couldn’t take much more.

“So, we are yet to be finished.” The water god finally stilled his fingers and removed them with a loud shlop sound.

You nodded, eyes soaking in and memorizing the image of a partially clothed water god, pumping his rigid manhood with his hand that had just been removed from your body. His cheeks were tinged pink, his ears had a dusting of the same shade, his intimidating and crisp appearance disheveled because of you. Slowly you slid off from his desk, your bum hitting the cold floor roughly. He watched you, his haughty demeanor returning as you sat on your knees before him.

He stopped pumping and angled his erection toward your closed lips. Tentatively, you licked it. You had no idea what you were doing but you wanted to please, to worship him as he said. “Good girl,” Tobirama praised as he placed his hand, the one wet with his own precum, in your hair and pulled you flush against his aching need. “Open your mouth.”

Almost as soon as you opened your mouth, he placed his throbbing tip inside. You wrapped your lips around it and closed your eyes. How was even this part of him so cold? He pushed his hips forward and you had to open your jaw further to fit him. The taste of him was tangier than you expected, but that also could’ve been the taste of your lingering juices. He moved his fist, at the base of his shaft, together with your slight head bobs.

The sounds he made were divine; low grunts and moans, a rumbling in his chest when you scraped him with your teeth, his labored breathing grew louder and louder with each passing movement. Your jaw ached but you loved the feeling of his throbbing flesh in your mouth. The longer you sucked the more of him you tried to swallow. Eventually he reached so far back that he hit the back of your throat. Tears were welling in your eyes at the effort and saliva leaked from all parts of your mouth. You began to grunt and whine along with him, fresh arousal dripped from you onto the floor.

With one final thrust of your head to his pelvis, he throbbed and groaned loudly as he spurt cold spend down your throat. You wanted to taste it, but your tongue had already numbed from the temperature of his cock. He removed himself slowly, a small trail of semen and throat mucus following behind. When he was fully out of your mouth you rubbed your throat. It felt abused but in a way you never expected to enjoy, you happily swallowed the gunk that remained on your tongue and didn’t need to be told to lick him clean. He was still rock hard and you pressed your thighs together at the sight.

He reached down and helped you to your feet. Tobirama fully removed his robe and you pushed off the one that had loosely remained on your arms. The god adjusted his trousers and you frowned in confusion as he tucked himself away again. He still removed his tight shirt, revealing a haven of well sculpted flesh to your greedy eyes, which gave you pause. “We will continue in the altar room.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know where that is?”

You nodded.

“Then go, I will meet you there. I have something else to prepare.”

Again, you nodded, throat still sore, and began to walk toward your second favorite place to be. During your walk there you had begun to feel cold, and you wondered if it was because of the cum you swallowed. You could almost feel it as it sat in your belly like ice and froze your core, but you couldn’t help the tingle of need that pulsed at your entrance at the thought. You wrapped your arms around your middle to conserve heat.

You waded through the pool as you went to sit on the altar to wait for him. As horny as you still were, you were thankful for the reprieve. It allowed your overtaxed body a break and your lust addled mind some clarity. Though with the clarity came the anxiety of being deflowered by the same flesh that had deliciously tortured your throat. A shiver crawled up your spine, both from the cold and at the thought of how ruined you would be afterward. Tobirama was going to split you in half, he’d probably reach well into your guts if he bottomed out inside of you.

The water god appeared in the hallway; he was still shirtless with two flasks in his large hands. One flask looked the same as the one from before, black, but the other had a dual blue and purple hue that attracted your attention. You stared at the flex of his muscles as he walked, his hair looked like he had run his hands through it a few times, but he approached you with purpose. His feet glided over the water like it had when you first saw him. He narrowed his eyes at your hunched form. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and muttered, “Just cold.”

He handed you the black flask again and you began to drink it before he told you to. The fluid slid down your throat like slime, but it warmed its way down and seemed to overtake the cold that had seeped its way through you. The mixture of the viscous drink and Tobirama’s essence seemed to unsettle your stomach a bit but it wasn’t anything to worry about. Those sharp red eyes watched you carefully as he leaned in closer. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you still willing?” That question surprised you. Would you have been sitting there still naked if you weren’t? Or even drank more of that strange fluid? You appreciated the sentiment though.

“Of course.”

“Good, then move over for a moment.”

“Whah?” He nudged you aside before he sat himself down in the center of the altar. The pale god sat and began to slide his trousers down just enough to expose his half-hard member and the swollen balls below it. Tobirama opened the blue and purple flask before beckoning you to straddle him. You were up on your knees with your hands clutching his shoulders. It was a position you had not been expecting, though you weren’t really aware of what positions where normally used in this sort of situation.

The white-haired man leaned forward and began to lap at your neck, both hands moving to cup your cold breasts. He pressed them together before rolling and squeezing them. You moaned softly when his cold thumbs began to rub your nipples. His lapping turned into opened mouth kisses as he made his way down your unpainted collarbone and to your breast, where he had conveniently, rubbed the ink off of your skin. That cold appendage left a wet trail from the top of your left breast to the underside before he enveloped a nipple and vigorously sucked. A higher pitched moan escaped you and you tightened your grip on his shoulders.

Before he switched to the right breast, he poured some of the liquid from the blue and purple flask into his hand and rubbed the fluid against your sex. He nipped at the pebbled bud in his mouth and smeared the fluid into your soft tissue thoroughly. With a breathy groan you bucked into his hand. The water god poured more into his palm and made sure to coat his fingers before pushing them into you. You leaned back on your haunches a bit, giving him better access to your insides, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that the fluid was warming up the more he worked it in.

“Mmm,” you bit your lip and glanced at his cock. It had risen back to hardness and your inner walls clenched at the thought.

Tobirama chuckled breathlessly, “That eager to be stuffed full of me, hm?”

He removed his fingers from your entrance, and you whined. His cock visibly throbbed at the sound. The water god poured more of the fluid into his hand and began to rub it along his member. The substance was also a bit viscous but lighter in color than the one you’d been drinking. “Get back into the previous position, little girl. I’m about to split you open.”

Swallowing nervously, you straddled him again, and your grip on his shoulders had your knuckles turning white. With his none lubricated hand placed on your hip, and his other keeping his length in position, he began to slowly bring your down onto him. The blunt tip felt good as he rubbed it against your entrance and clit, it had relaxed you enough for you to try to sink down on it.

The tip felt impossibly wide as it popped inside. “Relax, if you tense up it’ll make things more difficult.”

Relax, you told yourself. Easier said than done. You closed your eyes and sunk down further. The stretch burned and you bit your bottom lip. Only when you pressed down a little more did Tobirama let out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Good girl.”

The praise made you want to try harder, so you took more of him in at once than you should’ve. It knocked the wind out of you, his blunt head hit against the spongey part in your walls that made your toes curl. He panted and removed his hand, no longer needing it to hold himself in place, instead he placed it on your other hip to try to ease your burden. Your hands shook, it was painful but pleasurable all at once, the feeling was almost too much. “Halfway there.”

Only halfway? You whined again as you tried to take in more of him; the whine only grew in volume as he rubbed against the most sensitive parts of your inner walls. His eyes were narrowed in on where your bodies connected, the sharp red was filled with undeniable desire as he watched your being swallow him. “Look at how well you’re taking me.”

“Lord Tobirama,” you groaned as you sunk down further. Your entire body flinched when he hit against a part of you that felt wrong. “Nn, I can’t take in anymore.”

“You were being such a good girl. There’s no need to worry, only a bit more to go.”

“I can’t. I—” you cut yourself off as you attempted to do as asked but felt that same intensity. You shook your head. Before you had fully adjusted to the fullness, Tobirama began to raise you up and down along his length. It felt like heaven and hell in one place. Every time his blunt head hit against that spot it tried to push a little harder against it. Your legs trembled, your brain too pleasure fogged to try and ride him. When he started to thrust up as he brought you down, you swore.

“You don’t ever want me to leave this hole do you? You’re sucking me in, trying to take me in deeper despite saying that you couldn’t. But look,” he grunted with exertion, and you felt a telltale pop as he pushed past the barrier. It hurt, it felt wonderful, it was too much. Your body began to spasm and your vision blurred. The highest pitched noise you’d ever made escaped your lungs and you clawed at his back, leaning forward against his chest to try to gain some relief from the feeling. Tobirama shivered against you.

His grip on your hips was bruising as he continued to bring you up and down, sinking deeper then he ever should’ve. You were a mess, tears welled in the corners of your eyes and you felt stupid. All you could do was moan and whine like a bitch in heat. “If I cum inside we’ll be tied forever, do you want that?”

You nodded, the pressure in your lower belly about to burst.

“I’ll sow my seed inside you,” he panted, his thrusts and pulls increasing in speed. You bounced up and down on his lap at an erratic pace. Tobirama continued to ramble. “You’ll take every last drop. The thought of you with milk swollen breasts and a round belly is enough to drive me insane. You’re my precious little broodmare. Fuck!” His curse was punctuated by a particularly hard thrust, one that smashed your clit down onto his pelvic bone and caused you to reach your peak. You felt a rush of fluid leave you and you whimpered as oversensitivity set in almost immediately.

“Such a good—” he thrust two more times and gasped as he reached his own end. There was a distinctive rush of cold as he came inside you. It felt like a lot. You bit your bottom lip and pressed your forehead into his shoulder as he relaxed his grip on your hips. The two of you remained like that for a while, basking in the post orgasm bliss. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead gently.

Exhaustion began to swallow your form but before you could completely give in he spun you around to face the throne. He remained inside of you, his member twitching and spunk leaking from you and dripping down his sack. You whimpered when he leaned your back against his chest and angled your body so that you could watch your combined fluids run down his darkened flesh. “We’re not finished,” he supplied before he gripped your hips once more with just as much force.

Tobirama bounced you like you weighed nothing, the new angle giving you a clear view of the indentation he was making inside of you. You placed your hands over it and felt him practically pulse both inside and in your hands. Your mouth dropped open. As he worked you open, again and again, more of his cold sperm fell out of your center and stained his skin and the marbled stone. “Look at what you’re wasting,” he grunted, one of his hands crept down to tease your oversensitive nub and cause you to flinch with every motion of his fingers. “I’ll have to use something to plug you when we’re done. You don’t want to waste anymore, do you?”

Drool began to drip down the sides of your open mouth as you threw your head back against his shoulder, your hands rubbed against your own skin as they pressed back against him. It made you feel him harder; it made him rub you more. Your entire being felt like it would explode, your brain too stimulated to comprehend his question. “Ffffn,” you felt like your brain had gone numb. “Haaa, ahn.”

“Hm?” He brought his hand away from your abused nub and up to grip your chin. The water god turned your face toward him and his slick covered thumb swept across your exposed tongue and abused lips. “Have I fucked you stupid?”

He pressed his thumb down on your tongue so that you couldn’t speak. You tasted the mixture of his and your own cum on his precious thumb and you felt that same gush of fluid leave you. Your entire being thrummed, your heart felt like it might explode, you wanted to thrash and to move away from him to lessen the intensity, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong and all you could do was cry and whimper as you came again almost immediately after from his continued thrusts and blunt cock head against the very back of your womb. “My dumb little sacrifice,” he groaned. “A perfect little child maker. Spray me one more time, worship me with you entire being.”

His fingers left your mouth and he readjusted you to bend forward in his lap. The tears that had formed began to stream down your face as you shook your head. How could you explode again? Your essence had already sprung from you like a fountain; you couldn’t possibly do it again. Tobirama held you in place by your wrists, keeping you bent over and facing away. Noises you had never made before fell from your throat and squelched from your sex. You heard him grunt in effort and felt the weight of his sack hit against your angry clit once before you convulsed and sprayed again. “Mmm, good girl.”

You felt his cold semen as it burst inside of you once more. It collected in your womb like a pool and furthered your convulsions. He brought you back to his lap and rubbed your aching arms as you continued to shake, and he continued to cum inside of you. Despite the copious amounts of sweat and other fluids caked to both your skin and his all you could feel was the weight of his sperm inside of you and the cold it gave off. “Very good girl,” he muttered against your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

After an unknown amount of time you finally stopped whimpering and shaking, and your tears seemed to dry up. You were parched and sore but you managed to place your hands against the arms that held you once you felt a bit more grounded. You cleared your throat in attempts to get your mind off of the cold that permeated through you and the nervousness that his still rigid member, which remained in your depths, brought forth. “Did that give you enough power to save the village?” Your voice was so hoarse, so overused and abused, but the worst part was the obvious exhaustion.

The effort it took to stay awake to wait for his answer became too great and your eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. Your brain, exceedingly thankful for the much-needed break, turned off almost instantly and you slumped completely in his arms. The rumble of his chest as he began to answer was all you were able to register before total exhaustion embraced you.

“Little mortal,” he began. “There is much more worship to be had.”