Summary: Hinata Hyuga is deemed a failure by her father. In order to leverage any kind of utility from his failure of a daughter, Hiashi arranges a marriage between Hinata and the old, lonely Fire Daimyo.
Hinata didn't know what to expect. Certainly, she didn't expect the fat old man to have the biggest cock she had ever seen or be able to fuck her until she was a gasping, moaning mess.
"Sorry, Naruto..."
Love came before duty.
********
Naruto Uzumaki had not yet returned. It was something that constantly lingered at the back of her mind. Naruto. Naruto was training. Naruto was trying. Naruto was exploring the world and becoming better.
So should she.
Hinata rose before dawn, the way she always did on patrol days. The Hyuga compound felt colder than usual. Mist rolled along the stone paths that wound between the clan's old buildings. The main house sat in the center like a quiet sentinel, its shoji doors shut tight, its wooden beams polished so often they caught the faintest light.
The Hyuga Estate was a huge compound. It was pristine with servants. Though in the morning, often, it could feel empty and lonely.
She walked toward her father's study. The walkway curved around the inner garden where trimmed pines stood in neat rows. Gravel lined the paths in pale ribbons. The koi pond was still, almost glassy. Every step echoed more loudly than she expected, like the whole place was listening.
She paused at the door and bowed her head before sliding it open.
Hiashi Hyuga sat at his desk, surrounded by scrolls stacked in careful lines. Behind him hung a painted screen that showed the clan crest. He didn't look up right away. When he did, his face stayed unreadable.
"Father," Hinata said softly. "I leave for patrol within the hour. I came to inform you."
Hiashi raised a hand. "Sit."
The single word landed heavier than any jutsu. Hinata moved to the round cushion across from him and folded her legs beneath her. She straightened her back. She didn't know why her heart had begun to beat faster, only that something felt off.
Hiashi studied her for a long time. The silence stretched. She kept her eyes lowered.
"You are eighteen now," he said.
"Yes."
"You have reached maturity. You have become a Chunin." He paused, then added, "Barely."
The air thinned. Hinata felt it. She kept her breathing steady.
"I have watched your progress since childhood," Hiashi said. "Ten years of training. Ten years of expectation. And still your sister surpasses you. Hanabi moves ahead with ease. She will be Chunin soon. Neji has already risen to Jounin. They fulfill the clan's needs. You do not."
The words cracked something inside her. She didn't flinch, but she felt the sting behind her ribs.
"You hesitate," he said. "You hold back in combat. You lack the clarity your position demands. As a kunoichi, you have failed. You bring no strength to the clan."
Hinata opened her mouth before she could stop herself. "I try—"
"Quiet."
Her voice fell away. She pressed her palms against her knees, hoping it would ground her.
Hiashi continued. "There is no purpose in placing you on missions of value. You have not earned it. And the clan cannot carry weakness."
Hinata lowered her head further. She had heard disappointment before, but today it felt final.
"But." Hiashi folded his hands. "There is one contribution you can make."
She raised her eyes, unsure.
"You can be useful as a woman," he said. "By marrying the Fire Daimyo."
Hinata's breath caught. For a moment she felt weightless, as if her body had vanished. She searched for words, but none would come. Her thoughts scattered like leaves.
'B-b-but Naruto—!'
She loved him. She loved him! She wanted to marry him!
"The Fire Daimyo is a man of standing and influence," Hiashi said. "The political value of such a union is considerable. It will secure the clan's place for years to come."
"Father…" Her voice barely formed the word.
"There is no need for protest." Hiashi's tone shut the door on any attempt. "The decision is made. And you will not shame the clan by refusing. The Daimyo arrives tonight."
Hinata stared at him. The room seemed smaller, tight around her chest. Tonight. Not weeks from now. Not days. Tonight.
"You will present yourself with grace," Hiashi said. "There is nothing else to discuss."
He turned back to his scrolls. The dismissal was absolute.
Hinata rose slowly and bowed. Her legs felt unsteady as she stepped out into the walkway. The garden she loved looked different now, its stillness colder than before. She inhaled once, trying to steady her nerves, but the tightness wouldn't leave.
She walked toward her room, past the carved pillars and lanterns, past clan members who nodded politely without noticing the storm in her eyes. She kept her steps even, but inside she was tumbling through shock. The thought of patrol vanished. Everything she had built, however small, seemed to crumble in her hands.
Tonight. The Daimyo. Marriage arranged without her say.
She closed her door and let herself sink to the floor. There was no space for tears, not today. She folded her arms around herself and stared at the faint patterns in the tatami.
There was nothing she could do.
****
Night arrived without mercy.
Lanterns lit the long walkway leading to the main hall. Servants moved in quiet lines to prepare tea and refreshments. The branches of the old trees cast sharp shadows along the walls. Nights at the Hyuga Estate tended to be lonely. Only in the mornings could the servants appear. But tonight was different. A dignified guest was arriving.
Hinata remained in her room. She wore a formal lavender kimono with a white sash embroidered with the Hyuga sigil. Her hair was neatly pinned. She sat motionless, waiting to be summoned, though no one came.
In the main hall, Hiashi waited beside two guards. A screen door slid open. The Fire Daimyo entered. As always, members of the Twelve Guardian Ninjas flanked him. The waistcloth writing out "Fire" said as much.
The Fire Daimyo was an old man nearing his fifties. His wife passed away some odd decades ago. Any intention to marry was unneeded given she already provided him a son. A single son for the Daimyo to continue his legacy.
But…old men were old men. His robes were layered silk in shades of green and white. Without the Daimyo headpiece, his hair was pulled back into a neat topknot. His head was shaped oval with dark lazy pupils and a small smile. His appearance was truly nothing special. It was almost like seeing an uncle. It didn't diminish his presence, fortunately.
"Lord Hiashi," the Fire Daimyo said, inclining his head. "Your halls are as fine as I remember."
Hence why the headpiece was off. He was comfortable with the Hyugas. He was protected and well-acquainted. It was why this visitation was possible. Why this sudden marriage was possible.
"We are honored by your visit," Hiashi replied.
The Fire Daimyo's gaze drifted across the room with curiosity. He slowly sat down. "You mentioned you had a matter of interest for me."
He knew. He was just pretending not to know. Hiashi reached into his sleeve and produced a small lacquered envelope. Inside was a photograph. He handed it to the Daimyo.
The Daimyo opened it and lifted the picture. His brow arched with clear approval.
Hinata Hyuga's image looked back at him. She stood in the main garden, turned slightly to the side so the sunlight traced her profile. Her hair fell past her shoulders in soft lines. She wore her training jacket, but the photo caught the gentleness in her eyes and the steady calm she tried so hard to show. Her hands were clasped in front of her. The angle made her look almost ethereal.
"She is lovely," the Daimyo said. He studied the picture again, slower this time. His mouth pulled into a small smirk. "More than lovely. Exquisite."
Hiashi inclined his head.
"And this is your daughter," the Daimyo continued. "Hinata Hyuga."
"Yes."
"She seems… well bred." He traced the edge of the photo with one finger. "Graceful. A calm presence. A rare quality."
"She embodies the refinement of our clan," Hiashi said.
The Daimyo nodded with clear satisfaction. "I will marry her."
Hiashi did not react. "We are prepared for the arrangement."
"Next week," the Daimyo said without hesitation. "There is no reason to delay."
"Agreed."
The Daimyo slipped the photograph into his sleeve. "I look forward to the ceremony."
Hiashi bowed. The deal was sealed.
****
The Grand Hall of the Fire Daimyo's palace was thick with the buzzing murmur of hundreds of voices. Sunlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the assembled nobility and shinobi.
Hinata stood at the end of a long, petal-strewn aisle, her hand resting limply on her father's arm. She was a vision in a shiro-muku wedding kimono of the purest white silk, its heavy fabric embroidered with silver cranes in flight. Beneath the formal outer layer, a vibrant pink nagajuban peeked at the cuffs and collar, a faint hint of color against the overwhelming purity of the white.
The kimono was expertly tailored, and it did nothing to conceal the womanly figure she had grown into. The obi was cinched tightly, emphasizing the narrowness of her waist and the sudden, breathtaking swell of her hips. The neckline of the inner robe framed the soft, generous curves of her bust, each movement causing the delicate silk to shift and cling in a way that drew the eye. She was, as her father had coldly calculated, a hell of a woman—a prize to be presented and won.
Her father's grip on her arm was like iron, a silent command to keep moving. They began their slow procession. To her left, she saw Kurenai-sensei, her red eyes shimmering with an emotion that looked too much like pity. Behind her, Kiba offered a stiff, uncharacteristically solemn nod, Akamaru whining softly at his heels. Shino stood beside him, posture perfectly straight, the lenses of his glasses obscuring any feeling. Asuma Sarutobi puffed on a cigarette just outside a window, his expression grim. Their presence was a small comfort, but it felt like watching her from the far side of a great divide.
And at the end of the aisle, waiting for her, was him.
'So…that's the Daimyo…'
It was their first meeting. Strange, no? But the Daimyo insisted their wedding night be special and for her not to see until then.
The Fire Daimyo stood before the ceremonial altar, donned in extravagant layers of official court attire. His top-knot hair was hidden beneath the formal, ornate kanmuri headpiece, its pendulous tail swaying as he nodded to a guest. His small, lazy eyes were fixed on her. Whatever held back emotions he'd worn during his visit to the compound was gone. Now, there was a look of appraisal. It was the look a man gave to a fine sculpture or a valuable horse. Her stomach twisted into a cold, hard knot.
Naruto never would have looked at her like that. Although…it wasn't like he looked at her much anyway…
The ceremony was a blur of resonant chanting and ritualistic gestures. Hinata's voice was a ghost of itself when she spoke her vows, a hollow echo in the vast hall. His voice, in contrast, was firm and possessive. When he slid the ring onto her finger, his skin was dry and surprisingly rough against hers. He held her hand a moment too long, his thumb pressing into her palm.
"…and so, by the laws of the Land of Fire, I declare you bound for life," the priest intoned.
The hall erupted in polite, thunderous applause. The Daimyo turned to her, his smirk returning. He leaned in, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, his lips brushed against her cheek, a dry, papery touch.
"Come, my dear wife," the Daimyo said, his voice a low murmur meant only for her. "Our guests will feast. We have our own… traditions to observe."
He kept a firm grip on her hand. Thirty minutes later, he was leading her away from the main hall down a series of increasingly quieter corridors. The roar of the celebration faded behind them, replaced by the swish of their robes and the frantic pounding of her own heart. The silence between them was suffocating.
Her mind raced, scrambling for any anchor. Naruto's bright, smiling face flashed behind her eyes. 'I'm going to become Hokage, believe it!' Her father's cold dismissal. 'You can be useful as a woman.' The contradictions were tearing her apart.
Driven by a impulse she didn't fully understand, a desperate need to know the man she was now bound to in every sense, she focused her chakra. A web of veins pulsed around her eyes.
'Byakugan!'
The world dissolved into a 360-degree x-ray. She saw the guards stationed down the hall, the intricate plumbing within the walls, the faint chakra networks of servants several rooms away. And she saw him. His skeletal structure, his internal organs, the flow of his chakra—which was calm, almost bored.
Her gaze, against her will, drifted lower.
And her breath hitched.
Oh.
Oh, my.
Even completely flaccid, the man was prodigious. She had seen other men, of course. It was an unavoidable hazard of the Byakugan. She'd accidentally seen Kiba's, a perfectly average and unremarkable length, maybe four inches. She'd once glimpsed Shino's and he was rather exceptional at six inches. And Naruto… a fleeting, guilty glimpse years ago, before he left. He'd been boyish then and was perhaps three inches. It reminded him of a turtle. She'd flushed for a week after.
But this… this was something else entirely. The Fire Daimyo, this old, unassuming man, was hung like a stallion. A heavy, thick pipe that had to be at least eight inches even now, soft and resting against his thigh. It was the largest, most intimidating penis she had ever seen. A sudden, shocking wave of understanding washed over her.
'No wonder the Hyuga elders respect him. S-so this is what Daimyo blood has to offer…!.' A cold dread, mixed with a terrifying, unwanted flicker of curiosity, coiled in her stomach. The reality of what was to come was now horrifically, unavoidably clear.
He stopped before a large, ornate door, unaware of her utterly invasive reconnaissance. He produced a key with a soft click.
"The revelry is for them," the Daimyo said, his voice pulling her back to the present. He pushed the door open, revealing a bright chamber dominated by a massive, canopied bed. The scent of sandalwood and sake wafted out. He turned to her, that smirk deepening as his eyes raked over her body, from the elegant sweep of her neckline down to the curve of her hips.
Hinata gulped. 'I…I'm sorry, Naruto.' That was the only thing she could tell herself as she entered the room.
The heavy oak door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in a world of hushed opulence. The private chamber was vast. Hinata's eyes were glued to the canopy bed swathed in dark red silks. There were pillows placed on the perimeter as if to highlight what would go on in the middle.
Hinata stood frozen just inside the room, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The Daimyo moved past her, his court robes whispering against the polished floor. She could see his belly fat more clearly. Hinata did not like looking at it. He stopped beside the bed and turned, his small, lazy eyes appraising her once more in the intimate light.
The Daimyo began to untie the complex knots of his obi. "This… is for me."
He shrugged off the heavy outer layers, letting them pool on the floor until he stood in a simple, dark under-robe. He sat on the edge of the immense bed, atop a pillow, the frame creaking softly under his weight. He looked at her, his gaze unwavering.
"Come here, Hinata."
Her feet moved on their own, each step a small surrender. She stopped before him, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere near his knees.
"Look at me."
Hinata forced her gaze upward. His smirk was back, a knowing, possessive curl of his lips.
"A wife's first duty is to know her husband," the Daimyo said, his tone conversational, as if discussing trade routes. "And a husband's first pleasure is to be known by his wife. Remove your uchikake. Then, you will take out my cock."
A cold wave washed over her, followed immediately by a hot flush of shame. 'Naruto…' His name was a silent scream in her mind. She mechanically unclasped the heavy white wedding kimono, letting the symbolic garment fall to the floor in a heap of silk and silver thread. She stood before him in the pink nagajuban. It was a thin, intimate robe clinging to every curve of her bust and hips, outlining her body with devastating clarity.
"Now," the Daimyo commanded, his voice dropping another octave. "On your knees."
She had to. This was her husband. This was the most powerful man in the country, perhaps the world. She had no choice. Hinata sank to her knees on the soft rug, the action feeling both demeaning and terrifyingly inevitable. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She reached out with trembling hands, finding the tie of his under-robe.
'I...I j-just have to get this over with...'
Without really loving him. Without betraying her love for Naruto. With a gentle tug, it came loose. She parted the fabric.
And gasped.
His flaccid cock, which had been so shockingly impressive in the sterile X-ray vision of her Byakugan, was a living, breathing reality. It slapped heavily against her cheek with a soft thwack, the sheer weight and warmth of it making her jerk back in surprise. "E-eh…?" The noise came out on instinct. No one could blame her, not even Naruto. It was a hefty, thick length of flesh, already pushing eight inches even in its soft state. Her mind, traitorously, provided the comparisons again. Kiba's energetic four inches, Shino's lean, unassuming length, and Naruto's little turtle. They were boys. This… this was the cock of a man. A king.
Hinata gulped. The Daimyo smirked.
"Bigger than you thought? I thought you Hyugas were used to seeing men."
"T-that's…" Hinata trailed off. "Just…it is big."
"Mm." His eyes flared up. "I know. This is what it means to be the Daimyo."
'N-n-no wonder…'
Poor, innocent Hinata Hyuga was already being hypnotized. Her small, pale hands came up almost of their own accord. She wrapped her fingers around the base. Her thumb and middle finger didn't even come close to touching. She could feel the powerful, dormant strength within it, the thick vein running along its underside. She began to stroke, a slow, tentative motion from the incredible, heavy base to the broad, blunted tip.
The feeling was alien. The skin was like silk over steel. With each pass of her hand, she felt it twitch, thickening, lengthening, awakening. It was a metamorphosis happening in her grasp. A low, guttural groan escaped the Daimyo's lips. "Good girl~!"
His cock throbbed violently in her hand, pulsing with a life of its own, growing to a truly monstrous size. Twelve inches of thick, veined, upright flesh, a monument of male potency.
"E-eh? I-I don't…"
"Haah…" The Daimyo didn't even look down at her yet. He wanted to relish being hard with pale, soft hands caressing it.
'I-it's just so big…! How can…how is Naruto…'
Supposed to compete was what she wanted to say. It was a blasphemous thought. An unfair thought. Naruto was Naruto and this…this was the Daimyo. Hinata…Hinata had to look away. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of terror and awe, trailed down. His balls. Gods, his balls. They were two heavy, tight-packed orbs in a wrinkled sack, resting on the pillow. They looked like they could contain an ocean. Even Naruto's, which she'd once thought substantial for a boy, were peanuts in comparison.
"You handle a man well for a virgin," the Daimyo grunted, glancing down at last. His hips gave a slight, involuntary thrust into her circling fist. A thick, clear bead of pre-cum welled from the slit and dripped onto her wrist with a warm splot. "Your father assured me of your purity. Was he lying? Have you practiced this on some Konoha boy?"
"N-no, my lord!" Hinata stammered, her face flushing a deep, mortified crimson. "I-I have never… I swear it…"
He studied her face, her shocked eyes, her trembling lip. He saw the truth there. The untouched nervousness. A darker, more pleased smirk spread across his face.
"Remarkable. It seems you are a natural talent, Hinata Hyuga. A prodigy, not as a ninja but as a woman. Now, put that talented mouth to use. I want to feel your lips."
Her breath hitched. She looked from his eyes to the mammoth cock standing before her face, glistening with its own moisture. The sheer scale of it was daunting. 'I can't. I can't possibly…maybe if it was Naruto's b-but…'
He wasn't here. This was her husband. This was who she was to marry and please.
She gulped.
Leaning forward, pushing her old crush aside, she opened her mouth, pressing her lips around the massive head. The taste was musky, salty, overwhelmingly male. She relaxed her jaw as much as she could and took him in. She managed to get about half of his incredible length into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she began to bob her head.
The lewd, wet noises filled the silent chamber. To think these very same lips had been speaking dignified vows an hour before. Hinata bobbed down the monster cock with an instinct she didn't know she possessed, one hand working the base of his shaft while the other cupped his enormous, weighty balls. She could feel every throb, every pulse of his impending release against her tongue.
If she was a virgin, she didn't look the part. Stroking while sucking? That was high-level technique
"Yes… just like that," he moaned, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, not forcing, but guiding. "You suck cock like a born whore! This is great!
His words should have shamed her, but a strange, delirious pride flickered through her panic. She was doing it. She was pleasing him. Her head moved faster, her rhythmic bobbing becoming more confident.
"I saved myself for you, Hinata," the Daimyo grunted, his breathing becoming ragged. "One week's worth of cum!"
A full week's pressure building up for his new bride. It was all for her. His fingers tightened in her hair. A warning.
"Now… show me those beautiful Hyuga clan eyes. Look at me when I claim you."
Her lavender eyes, wide and watery, flicked up to meet his. The moment their eyes locked, he erupted.
A hot, sudden splurt hit the back of her throat, thick and copious. She gagged, but held her position as another powerful jet followed, and another. Splurt! Spurt, spuuurt! He wasn't just cumming; he was inundating her. With a choked cry, the amateur Hinata pulled herself from his cock, and the next violent pulse of cum shot across her face with a wet splat, painting a white stripe across her cheek. Another followed, splashing across her nose and forehead. Rope after hot, thick rope of his release coated her face, dripping from her chin onto her precious pink nagajuban with a series of soft plips.
"Nngh! Come on, take it!" He had to stroke and keep cumming because Hinata couldn't. She was too surprised. She was too new. The Daimyo finished with a final, shuddering throb, his massive cock still jerking in his own hand as he milked the last drops onto her. Hinata remained on her knees, panting, blinded, her face a glistening, sticky mess of his godly load. The Daimyo looked down at her, his chest heaving, a look of profound, possessive satisfaction on his face.
"Hehe…!"
Hinata remained on her knees, his release cooling on her, the salty, musky taste still coating her tongue. She felt frozen, a statue of shame and bewildered arousal.
"Look at you. So beautiful. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Y-yes," Hinata replied out of necessity. She couldn't even see herself. She had to wipe the drips of cum hanging off her lashes.
'D-do all men cum this much?'
Because this…this didn't seem natural.
"But a vessel must be beautiful and kept clean." His eyes, those small, lazy pools of dark intent, focused on her cum-glazed face. "Your first lesson in wifely duty, Hinata. A queen does not wear her king's pleasure as a mask. She consumes it. She makes it a part of her. Clean me."
He gestured with a nod toward his cock, which, even semi-soft, was a formidable, slick ten inch length. "Use that talented tongue. Leave no trace."
Her stomach lurched, but the command was absolute. She tentatively extended her tongue, the very tip making contact with his softening flesh. The taste was stronger now, more concentrated. 'Salty. Musky. Masculine.' She licked a slow, hesitant stripe from his heavy base to his tip, collecting the remnants of his spend.
Sluuuurp!
She cleaned, she sucked, she did everything she needed to do. Even his nutsack, she had to press her mouth and tongue and clean it up. To think she'd be muzzling against an old wrinkly nutsack…
She couldn't imagine Naruto anymore. Her nose felt like it was full of his cum. Her forehead, her mind, it felt heavy with his seed. And to top it off, she had to kiss the tip of his cock with a, "Mwah!"
Hinata had to. R-right? Kissing the tip of a man's cock just felt right. It was what she would have done to Naruto…
"Mmm. Good girl," he murmured, his hand stroking her hair. "Now, your face. Do not waste a single drop."
A hot flush of humiliation washed over her, but beneath it, a treacherous heat bloomed in her core. She brought her fingers up, gathering the thick, cooling cum from her cheek and bringing it to her lips. She opened her mouth, her eyes squeezing shut, and sucked her fingers clean with a soft schlck. She repeated the act, cleaning her brow, her nose, her chin, each hesitant gulp a further surrender. She was swallowing his baby batter. Taking him inside. The act felt more violating than anything before, and yet her body betrayed her with a faint, reluctant throb of interest deep within her belly.
"Open your eyes," he commanded. She obeyed, her lavender eyes meeting his. "Show me."
She opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue to prove it was clean.
A dark, pleased smile spread across his face. "Exquisite. Now stand. Remove the rest. I want to see the body I have purchased. All of it."
Her hands trembled as she rose on unsteady legs. She reached for the tie of her pink nagajuban, the silk now stained with his essence. The knot came loose with a faint shush of fabric. She let the robe slide from her shoulders, pooling at her feet on top of the white wedding kimono. She stood before him, completely naked, the cool air raising goosebumps on her skin.
The Daimyo's gaze was a physical weight, roaming over her without shame or haste. He drank in the full, heavy swell of her breasts, their pale curves tipped with dusky pink nipples that peaked under his scrutiny. His eyes traced the dramatic inward curve of her waist, then flared with open hunger at the sight of her hips, the lush, heart-shaped arc of her ass, and the neat pussylips at the junction of her thighs.
His cock roared into an erection. Hinata went wide-eyed and almost stepped back. Oh god, just how was any cock supposed to compare? She mewled. She bit her bottom lip.
"Hehe, don't be scared. Turn around," he said. "Bend over the bed. Present yourself to your husband."
He patted the seat next to him. Heart hammering, she went over and placed her hands on the rich duvet. He got up too. They were effectively switching places. Hinata bent from the waist, the movement making her ample ass jut out towards him, presenting her intimate cunt. She felt utterly exposed, the cool air kissing her dripping wetness. She heard his sharp intake of breath.
"Gods above," the Daimyo whispered. "Your father undersold you, Hinata. This is a masterpiece." A calloused finger traced the seam of her ass, making her jump. Then it slid down, through her slick folds, with an arrogant familiarity. Schlick! "So wet already. And so, so tight."
One thick finger pushed into her without warning. Hinata gasped, her fingers clenching the bedding. It was an invasion, a stretching burn that was both foreign and electrifying. He worked his finger in and out with a slow, cruel precision.
"You feel that, wife?" he crooned. "That is my claim. My property." A second finger joined the first, stretching her wider, and a choked moan was torn from her throat.
'Naruto, I'm sorry!' The thought was a desperate prayer, but it was drowned out by the slick, filthy noise of his fingers pistoning inside her. Squelsh! Squeltch!
"You will take three," the Daimyo declared with arrogant certainty. "The girth is nearly that of my cock. A worthy preparation."
A third finger pressed against her entrance, and she cried out as he forced it in, the stretch a sharp, blinding pain that quickly melted into a deep, unbelievable fullness. He scissored his fingers, stretching her, preparing her, and the pain subsided into an overwhelming pleasure. Her hips gave an involuntary jerk.
Oh no. Hinata thought she could outlast this old man. Make herself available to him while not enjoying it. That way, she could keep herself pure for Naruto in some sense.
But this man…
Schlick, schliick!
'I-it feels good! It feels—mmmph~!'
"There it is," he chuckled, his fingers curling, rubbing against a spot inside her that made her see stars. "That famous Hyuga control, shattering for me. Moan for me, Hinata Hyuga."
She couldn't have stopped it if she tried. A loud, wanton moan echoed in the chamber as he rubbed that spot again, his three fingers fucking her with relentless rhythm. Her world narrowed to the sensation of those fingers, to the building pressure coiling tight in her core. Her legs began to shake.
"I'm… I can't…" she panted.
"You can," he growled, his free hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through her. "You will. Come on my fingers, wife. Show me how you break."
The command, the smack, the relentless pressure inside her—it was too much. The coil snapped. Her back arched violently as a wave of pure, convulsing ecstasy ripped through her. "Aaaah! C-cumming! I'm sorry, I'm cummiiing~!!" she screamed, her voice breaking as her inner walls fluttered and clenched around his invading fingers. Her cunt squeezed. Hinata squirmed.
It was humiliating for this old man to completely undo her. She was young, she thought she could withstand him. Hate him.
'B-but it feels SO good~!'
He worked her through it, drawing out her orgasm until she was a trembling, gasping mess, her face pressed into the duvet.
He withdrew his slick fingers with a final, wet pop. "There is no need to apologize for pleasure," he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. He didn't know she was apologizing to a ghost. To a man she still dearly loved.
She heard the rustle of his robe dropping fully to the floor. Then she felt it—the broad, mushroom-shaped head of his cock, hot and impossibly large, prodding at her soaked, quivering entrance.
"Now," the Daimyo grunted, his hands gripping her hips. "The main event."
Her virginity was special. Her pleasure was special. She was Hinata Hyuga. She was important. She was to be married to the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki. To the future Hokage.
"Oh my Lord—!"
Not anymore. Not here. Not for this Hinata. The bridge that once connected her and Naruto burned as he pushed. The blunt, massive head stretched her wider than his three fingers ever could. Hinata whimpered and announced the end of her virginity. "I-it's so thick, My Lord!"
"Calling me Lord now? Ha, sorry, but…"
He didn't stop. He pushed forward, an inch of his incredible girth sinking into her, stretching her to her absolute limit. She could feel every vein, every ridge. Another inch. Her breath hitched. "M-My Lord…! Y-your cock! Your cooocck! It's too big! Too big!"
"It isn't! Haha, trust me, you can take it! You kunoichi can take more dick than the average woman! It's what you're trained for!"
'B-b-but Naruto! How am I supposed to—how am I supposed to—how am I SUPPOSED TO—!'
Hinata's mind became a broken record. Every thought was interrupted by another inch of cock. How many inches were there!? Her virgin pussy was so full, so completely occupied, and it didn't feel like it could ever be the same again.
"Almost there…almost there…"
He buried himself to the hilt with one final, powerful thrust, his heavy balls slapping against her clit with a resonant thwap.
"There!"
It would never be the same again. Hinata Hyuga's cunt, her mind, her very essence. It had changed irrevocably after this night. All twelve inches were inside. Hinata's eyes rolled back. It was a miracle. She was still standing. He was still for a moment, letting her adjust to the mind-altering fullness. Then he began to move.
He didn't fuck her gently. He fucked her with the arrogance of a king claiming his rightful prize. Each withdrawal was a slow, torturous drag that made her gasp. Each thrust was a powerful, deep plunge that forced a cry from her lips. His pelvis slammed against her jiggling ass with a rhythmic, pounding.
"L-Lord! My Lord—! W-waiiiit! Hold on—! Mmmppph!!" She had to clasp a hand over her mouth. She just had to.
"Come on, stay still!"
She also couldn't let herself fall onto the bed. That would be disobeying orders.
"B-but I'm cummiiiing! I'm cummiiing!!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
It felt truly impossible. With every one of those earth-shattering thrusts, he touched that spot, that glorious, devastating spot inside her that unraveled her completely.
"Oh god! Again!" she heard herself scream, her previous resolve, her love for Naruto, crumbling under the primal onslaught of sensation. Her body was no longer her own. It was an instrument he played with masterful skill. Another four thrusts and another four orgasms. "Nnnggh! Cumming! Cummingcummingcummiiiiing~!!"
Her voice was already soft and now it sounded like a pipesquak. A truly pathetic, broken woman. Yet another barrage of thrusts went by, balls smacking against her ass and pipe pistoning into her cunt—!
"Yesss! Oh god, MY LORRDD~!!"
What was his name?
Hinata suddenly couldn't remember.
His fat belly jiggled and bellowed against her. His unattractive face was curled into delight. But most importantly, his cock was rearranging her guts. His cock was changing Hinata Hyuga as a whole.
She was orgasming with every drive of his hips, each climax washing over her before the previous one had even faded, a continuous, screaming wave of pleasure. Her legs gave out and so he had to push forward and make her face fall onto the mattress. Fortunately, because they were rich and fancy, there were pillows on the bed's perimeter. He held her hips firm, keeping her in place as he railed her doggy-style, and her face mashed into the pillow. Hinata Hyuga's world reduced to the sound of skin slapping skin and her own ragged, incoherent pleas.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
How could a fat, old bastard fuck this good? How could this belly and balls smack against her without stopping? She would soon come to realize that all the Daimyo was good for was for fucking. He spent his days working or lazing or fucking. Who wouldn't develop stamina? Who wouldn't be a god at it?
"This cunt," he announced, grinning. "This perfect, tight, fucking Hyuga cunt is mine!"
She screamed into the pillow.
His thrusts became faster, harder, more frantic. SmackSMACKsmack! She felt him swell even larger inside her, a final, warning pulse.
"Now, wife!" he roared. "Take my seed! Take your purpose!" He laughed a little and he slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the root. His cock throbbed violently deep within her, and she felt the hot, sudden gush of his release flooding her depths. Rope after hot, thick rope. He held himself there, grinding against her ass as he unloaded, filling her until she felt impossibly full.
A low, continuous moan escaping her lips. Drool escaped with it. Just barely, she was able to lift her face. Just barely, she was able to understand how fucked she was.
With shuddering thrust, he stilled. He pulled out with a soft, wet schlopp, and she collapsed fully onto the bed, spent and trembling. She could no longer stand or think of herself.
Hinata Hyuga passed out on her wedding night.
The Fire Daimyo stood with a hand on his up and his twelve inch monster cock outstretched. Jutting and bouncing a little from excitement. He smirked down at her well-used pussy. He gave her ass a sharp, stinging slap, watching the flesh jiggle.
"A fine sight," he commented. "My claim, marked inside and out." He admired the way his thick, white cum already began to leak out of her stretched, reddened hole, dripping onto her inner thighs with a slow drip… drip…
"Tomorrow, we'll have to go again. Ooh, and I can't wait for our honeymoon too!"
Oh yes, this was only the beginning of Hinata's marriage.
***
The humid, salt-kissed air of the Fire Daimyo's private coastal villa was a world away from the cold, rigid halls of the Hyuga compound. A week had passed since the wedding, a blur of travel, lavish meals, and long, demanding nights.
Hinata stood outside the master suite, the sound of crashing waves a soft rhythm against the shoji screens. Her heart thumped a frantic counter-beat.
She looked down at herself. The lingerie was a masterpiece of silk and sheer intent. A deep crimson of the finest silk, so thin it was almost translucent, was tied with a delicate obi just below her full breasts, pushing them up and leaving the round, dusky pink areolas and their hard peaks almost entirely exposed. With the top was a matching crimson fundoshi that comprised the bottom. A narrow strip of the same sheer silk was tied high on her hips, a single string diving down between the generous curves of her ass to disappear into her cleft, before reappearing as a flimsy triangle that did little more than frame her bare cunt.
Every curve, every swell of her busty, womanly figure was on provocative display.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hinata slid the door open.
The Daimyo was reclined against a mountain of silk pillows on the vast futon, completely nude. His oily hair was loose around his shoulders, and his small, lazy eyes lit up with predatory satisfaction the moment they landed on her. His hands were laced behind his head, a smug smirk plastered on his face. And resting on his stomach, thick and heavy even in its semi-flaccid state, was his cock.
"There is my beautiful wife," the Daimyo purred. "Come. Let me admire my favorite wedding gift."
Blushing a feverish red that matched her lingerie, Hinata moved into the room. She didn't walk to the bed; she crawled. On her hands and knees, she approached him, the movement making her heavy breasts sway enticingly beneath the sheer silk. She kept her eyes locked on his, a submissive gesture she had learned he adored.
She reached the edge of the futon and didn't hesitate. She had, as he'd noted that first night, a natural talent. A week of dedicated practice had honed it into an art form. She lowered her head, nuzzling her cheek against the warm, velvet-soft skin of his wrinkly nutsack. Her nose brushed against the heavy, wrinkled sack of his balls, and she inhaled his clean, masculine scent.
"Mmm, that's it," he groaned, his hips shifting slightly.
Emboldened, Hinata turned her head and pressed a soft, closed-mouth kiss to the very top of his scrotum. Then another, trailing a line of tender kisses along the underside of his massive schlong. Her small, delicate hands joined the worship, one cupping his balls with a gentle, kneading pressure that made him sigh, the other wrapping around the thick base of his cock. Her fingers, as always, failed to meet.
She worked her way down, her kisses becoming open-mouthed and wetter. She lavished attention on each of his testicles, taking one then the other into the heat of her mouth, suckling gently, flicking her tongue against the sensitive skin. "Mwah! Mwah!" Lewd and deliberately so.
"Fuck, Hinata," he breathed, his smirk softening into a look of genuine, stunned pleasure. "Your mouth is a divine miracle."
Her hand began to stroke him in a slow, firm rhythm, feeling him harden and swell to his full, breathtaking glory in her grasp. Twelve inches of thick, veined power. Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she opened her mouth impossibly wide and took him in.
She didn't bob or rush. Hinata consumed him. She slid her lips down his incredible length, her nose burying itself in the coarse hair at his base, her chin pressing into his balls. That's right, she could take it all now. This was the kind of talent Hinata Hyuga was. She was not meant to be a ninja, she was meant to worship cock—or so the Daimyo insisted, and so it became.
Hinata held all twelve inches there, deep in her throat, her eyes watering slightly, before pulling back with a wet sclrrk until only the broad, leaking tip remained between her lips. Then she dove down again, a deepthroating piston of silken heat.
Her free hand massaged his balls in time with her movements, her efforts a symphony of dedicated carnality. She was showing off, demonstrating just how well she'd learned her marital duties. His groans grew louder, his hands fisting the sheets beside his hips.
"I'm going to cum, my beautiful whore wife. Don't you dare spill a drop."
She increased her pace, the wet noises becoming frantic. Glrk-glrk-glrk! She felt the first violent throb against her tongue, the warning twitch deep in her throat. With a guttural roar, he erupted. The first hot, salty jet splurted directly down her throat and she swallowed instinctively. Gulp! The second followed, and she swallowed again. Gulp! But the third was a torrent, a gushing flood that overwhelmed her. She managed to swallow half of it before pulling back, the rest of his massive load splashing across her tongue and painting the inside of her mouth.
Hinata knelt back, panting, his spend glistening on her lips. She met his eyes and slowly, deliberately, swallowed what was in her mouth with a final, audible gulp.
He laughed, a breathy, satisfied sound. "Almost perfect. We'll work on your capacity." He reached for her, his hands sliding up her silk-clad thighs to her hips. "Now, come here. I believe it's my turn to feast."
He guided her over him, positioning her dripping wetness over his still-hard, glistening cock. "Sink down on me, Hinata. Ride your husband."
Holding his shoulders for balance, she lowered herself. The broad head of his cock parted her slick folds and she impaled herself on him slowly, gasping as every glorious, stretching inch filled her. "Oooh! Nggghh!"
"Always trying to be so quiet…hehe, I like that, you know."
The remark made her flush.
Once he was fully sheathed inside her, she began to move, rising and falling in a steady, rocking rhythm.
"Ah! Nggh! T-thank you, My Lord!"
"For what?"
"F-for—nnggh! Ah~! Letting my ride your cock!"
He grinned proudly. "It's big, right?"
"T-the biggest!" She gasped. "S-so thick! So deep! I-it makes me cum s-so easily! So fast! Thank you! Thank you~!"
She threw her head back.
"Thank you, I'm cummiiiing~!"
She was louder, more open now. Only after a week, she went from silence and muffled mouths to this. To this dick riding slut.
"Your welcome," the Daimyo replied smugly.
Her breasts bounced freely in his face with every bounce. He chuckled, his hands coming up to grope them roughly, his thumbs circling her hard nipples through the thin silk. "These magnificent tits," he murmured before pulling the silk down with his teeth, exposing one dusky peak. He latched onto it, sucking hard, his tongue flicking over the taut nub.
Hinata's head fell back, a ragged moan torn from her lips. "Nnnggh! Oh! T-t-thank you, My Lord—!"
"Say thanks to your husband!"
She gasped. She looked down, met his eyes, and bit her bottom lip. "T-thank you, my husband!"
That grin again. Any god could tell he was claiming her. Molding her. "Your welcome, wife~!"
Then he thrust. Then her eyes went wide and she went screaming, "CUMMMIIING~!!"
Again and again, he thrust. They were heavy, launching him off the bed. He hated putting in effort, but after what she did? Hinata deserved a reward. The deep, stretching fullness of his cock and the electric suction on her nipple drove every coherent thought from her head. When he stopped, Hinata understood what to do: she rode him faster, her hips pistoning, her body taking its pleasure with a primal urgency she no longer fought.
She didn't know what to think of this old man, this politician who owned her. But his cock…
'Oh gods, his cock is too good!'
She felt his release building again, his thrusts becoming jerky and uncontrolled beneath her. "Hinata!" he cried out, his mouth leaving her breast with a pop.
"Y-you may cum inside, m-my…" Hinata stammered, then felt herself blanking out when he throbbed and thrust. "My love!"
It was like everything he wanted and with a final, powerful surge upwards, the Fire Daimyo emptied himself inside the Hyuga Princess. The needy slut felt the hot, pulsing gush of his seed flooding her depths, and the sensation tipped her over the edge. She cried out, her inner walls clenching around him in a series of frantic, fluttering pulses as her own orgasm crashed through her.
"C-cumming! CUMMMMIIING~!!!"
This felt like the first time they had orgasmed as husband and wife. As two people on the same agenda. As understanding and possessing a love for each other. Now, was that love right? Was that love romantic?
Probably not.
"Mmmmmppph~!"
But the lovely, delirious smile on Hinata's face couldn't be denied.
She collapsed forward and her heavy, sweat-slicked breasts smothered the lucky old bastard's face. He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling into her softness with a contented sigh.
"My perfect wife," he mumbled, his voice muffled by her breasts. "My heaven."
**********
OMAKE
A hot spring was a wonderful place that promised relaxation. The journeying Naruto Uzumaki, aged eighteen and aching in every muscle, groaned as he lowered himself into the scorching embrace of the hot spring. The past month of training with the pervy sage had been brutal, a relentless gauntlet of chakra control exercises and summoning techniques that left him feeling utterly spent.
"Finaaally! Some peace!"
Naruto let his head loll back against the smooth, water-worn stone, the world narrowing to the soft gurgle and lap of the water around him. The towel he'd loosely tied around his hips felt constricting. With a sigh, he tugged at the knot, letting the damp cloth fall away onto the deck beside the pool.
A cool breeze danced across his skin, a stark contrast to the hot water, and he shivered. He sank a little deeper, the crystal-clear water offering no concealment. He glanced down at his own body, his gaze travelling past his toned stomach to his relaxed manhood resting innocently against his thigh. It was… fine. It was his. A perfectly serviceable three inches of soft, uncut flesh, nestled in a patch of sun-bleached blond hair. It looked… boyish.
"Don't let the heat lull you to sleep, my boy!" a booming, jovial voice echoed from the other side of the rock partition.
Naruto's eyes snapped open. He thought he'd had the springs to himself. A moment later, an older man, perhaps in his fifties, rounded the corner. He had a kind, weathered face framed by grey-streaked hair and a generous, laughing smile.
"Plenty of room!" the man announced, giving a hearty wave for Naruto to stay put. "The water's finest at this hour."
Before Naruto could even stammer a reply, the man casually dropped his own towel onto the deck. And then he stood there, completely at ease, a monument of mature masculinity.
Naruto's brain short-circuited.
The man was hung like a horse. While Naruto's own was a quiet, sleeping thing, this man's equipment was a declaration. Even completely flaccid, it was a formidable sight: a thick, heavy, veined eight inches of flesh that hung with a weight Naruto could only describe as authoritative. It dwarfed his own, a kingly scepter compared to a squire's training sword. A hot, fierce blush exploded across Naruto's face and chest. He instinctively tried to sink deeper, but the water was tragically, perfectly transparent.
'W-what a man!' he thought, half mortified, half in utter awe.
The man just chuckled and stepped into the water with a soft slosh, the massive displacement causing small waves to rock against Naruto's chest. He settled on a submerged ledge opposite Naruto, his sheer presence commanding the entire pool.
"The look on your face," the man laughed, not unkindly. "I remember that look. Don't worry, son. It's just skin and blood. Some are blessed with more, some with less. It matters little in the grand scheme."
"I… uh…" Naruto managed, his voice cracking. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the underwater spectacle, the big dick making him feel incredibly young and inadequate.
"You're a shinobi, I take it?" the man asked, gesturing to the Konoha headband tied to Naruto's discarded belongings. "Where are you from?"
"The Leaf!"
Currently, they were not in the Leaf. They were in the Land of Hot Water in the village of Yugakure.
"Ahh, the Leaf! Me too!"
"Really? Haha, great to see ya!" Naruto replied, genuinely excited.
"Our village seems to produce fine shinobi, doesn't it?"
"Hehe, yeah!" Naruto puffed out his chest a little, the familiar pride cutting through his embarrassment. "And I'm gonna be the best of them all! The Hokage! Believe it!"
The man's eyebrows raised, his expression shifting from jovial to intensely intrigued. "The Hokage? That is a lofty goal. A leader must possess incredible strength, wisdom, and… conviction." His eyes flicked down for a fraction of a second, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, before returning to Naruto's earnest blue eyes. "And what, pray tell, is the name of this future Hokage?"
"Naruto Uzumaki!"
The man nodded slowly, absorbing the name. "Naruto," he repeated, as if tasting the word. "I shall remember that name. I have a feeling I'll be hearing it again."
They talked for another ten minutes. The old man seemed curious and asked plenty about his past. It was a little strange but Naruto didn't mind. As long as he didn't tell him about the Nine Tails, there was no way there was any risk behind it.
Eventually, the man sighed, a note of genuine regret in his voice. "Ahh, it seems duty calls. I am a man on a strict schedule."
With another effortless motion, he rose from the water. The clear liquid sheeted off his powerful frame, and Naruto was once again granted a full, breathtaking view of the man's penis. It was impossible to ignore the way it moved, the sheer thwap, thwap of that heavy, impressive schlong against his fat thigh as he stepped out of the pool. Naruto's mouth went dry.
It was then that he noticed a figure materialize from the shadows near the changing room entrance. A shinobi, clad in anonymous armour, gave a slight, nearly imperceptible nod to the older man. 'H-huh? I didn't even notice,' Naruto thought. 'A bodyguard? Just who is this guy?'
The man grabbed his towel, not bothering to cover himself just yet. He glanced back at Naruto. "Train hard, Naruto Uzumaki. The path to Hokage is a long one."
He turned and walked, bare and utterly confident, into the changing room, the anonymous ninja falling into step behind him. The thwap, thwap sound echoing in the steamy silence long after he was gone.
Naruto just sat there, stunned, the hot water suddenly feeling much less relaxing.
The Fire Daimyo, for that is who he was, padded down the lushly carpeted hallway of the inn's exclusive wing, his bodyguard melting away into a side corridor now that he was within the secured area. A small, self-satisfied smirk played on his lips. The encounter with the blonde boy had been… amusing. The boy's raw ambition was palpable, a flickering flame next to the Daimyo's own steady, well-fed fire.
He reached a heavy oak door and opened it without knocking.
The room within was opulent, lit by soft lantern light. And there, standing by the window, was his wife.
"Hinata…."
The Hyuga Princess turned at the sound of the door, a shy, sweet smile gracing her beautiful features. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she was clad in a simple silk bathrobe tied at the waist.
"Welcome back, my lord," Hinata greeted, her voice a gentle melody.
The Daimyo said nothing, simply leaning against the doorframe, his smirk deepening as he let his eyes roam over her. He knew what was coming.
A delicate blush rose on Hinata's pale cheeks. Biting her lower lip, her eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and desire that was meant for him and him alone, she pulled the lapels of her robe apart.
The silk whispered as it slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet in a heap. She stood before him, gloriously nude. Her body spoke to her happiness; full, heavy breasts that seemed to defy gravity, their light-pink nipples already pebbled in the cool room air, a smooth stomach that curved into generous hips. There was no shyness in this reveal, only a proud offering.
The Daimyo's eyes darkened with possessiveness. This was his wife. The former kunoichi, the heiress of the Hyuga clan, who had once, he knew, fancied herself in love with a loud, brash boy. A boy whose name now seemed so insignificant.
"You've been waiting for me," he stated, his voice a low growl as he pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her. Thwap, thwap, thwap! His cock swung like a grandfather clock.
Hinata's breath hitched as he drew near, her pale eyes wide and fixed on him. "Always, my lord," she breathed out, her gaze unconsciously dipping down his horsedick. A flicker of unadulterated hunger flashed in their depths before she looked back up at his face, her expression one of complete devotion. "I am always waiting for you."