Wrong. This was wrong. But when had anything ever been right?

He couldn’t fight back against the chains. His body was made to take the full force of this—no, not pleasure, that he couldn’t say. It would mean he enjoyed being prisoner in the House of the Dead.

But it was pleasure, wasn’t it?

He couldn’t even speak, could only watch the iridescent shine of the black hair as it shook and danced over the other’s shoulders. He could imagine its texture under the sensitive pads of his fingers and how it would feel over his hips had this been done horizontally and not vertically; he’d felt it enough already, he could imagine the shape and length of the other’s cock as it was pushed not at all gently into his passage. It was so many layers of wrong that he had begun to watch for the approach of the black-haired man.

Sensing his prisoner’s attention was wandering elsewhere, the sannin dug his nails into the other’s hips, the tip of his tongue massaging over the frenulum and dragging a reluctant moan from the younger man’s mouth upon sitting back, away from his desperately straining erection. “Come on, Hyuuga,” Orochimaru taunted. “Where’s your vaunted self-control? Push me away if you’ve a mind to do it! You’re supposed to be a genius…unless you’ve lost that in you, too, just like you’ll have lost everything if I let you go.”

He would be dismissed from ANBU.

“No one will accept you in Konoha. You’re spoiled goods now; no woman will marry a man who’s had the Snake sannin’s mouth on his cock, Hyuuga. Or the Snake sannin’s cock up his ass. I’ve taken away everything.”

He would be hunted by his family.

And Orochimaru loved it all. He loved pretty things, that was why he kept the Uchiha like a porcelain doll and wrapped him in expensive fabrics that would only be taken off minutes or hours later anyway. Neji had seen him watching, a strange glint of madness and disconnected lust in his Sharingan eye that the Hyuuga was willing to bet Itachi, in all his divine insanity, never had.

Like a common whore, all Neji could do was look down at the golden eyes of his captor and beg for completion. The low laugh of the Snake vibrated down his shaft, and the Hyuuga’s lust-filled cries echoed past the cell, past the already-trained doll outside, and down the long corridors of stone.

Orochimaru added a new doll to his collection that day.