Mature Content Warning: ⚠️
This chapter contains scenes of abuse, sexual violence, blackmail, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Next day
Indra Uchiha stood in the center of his newly formed prison, his crimson eyes blazing with triumph.
Before him knelt the defeated Uchiha Clan Head, Fugaku, and his prodigious son, Itachi. The two were bound by the very chakra chains Indra had forged in his quest for dominance.
The air crackled with the remnants of their battle, the Uchiha Compound lying in ruins around them.
Fugaku's face was a mask of fury and desperation, while Itachi's youthful features bore the weight of defeat. Indra's gaze shifted between them, savoring their humiliation.
"So, the great Fugaku Uchiha and his heir, brought to their knees," Indra sneered, circling them like a predator. "Your pride, your arrogance—it has led you here.
You should have joined me willingly, Fugaku. Now, you'll watch as I reshape this world… starting with your Clan."
Fugaku struggled against his bonds, his Sharingan spinning wildly. "You bastard! You'll pay for this, Indra! The entire village will—"
Indra's laughter cut him off, cold and menacing. "The village? Ha! They're too weak, too divided to stop me. But you… you had a chance. And now, you and your precious son will bear witness to your Clan's fall."
Itachi's eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance igniting within them despite his captivity. "We'll never let you win, Indra. The Uchiha will rise again."
Indra crouched before him, gripping Itachi's chin roughly. "Such spirit in one so young. It's a shame you weren't born in my era, Itachi.
We could have achieved greatness together." He released the boy with a shove, standing to address Fugaku once more. "But enough of this. Your fate is sealed.
Let's see how you fare in your new… accommodations." With a wave of his hand, the chakra chains tightened, dragging Fugaku and Itachi towards the newly erected prison cells.
The Uchiha Clan's future, once so bright, now hung in the balance, subject to Indra's twisted whims.
Mikoto Uchiha's steps echoed through the desolate halls of the Uchiha Compound, her heart heavy with each stride.
The once vibrant estate, filled with the laughter of Clan members and the promise of unity, was now a shadow of its former self. Debris littered the ground, a testament to the battle that had raged mere hours ago.
Her thoughts raced, consumed by the fate of her family—her husband, Fugaku, and their son, Itachi, now prisoners of Indra Uchiha.
Reaching the entrance of the Compound, Mikoto steeled herself. Before her stood Indra, his imposing figure a stark contrast to the devastation around them.
His crimson eyes, piercing and cold, met hers with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
"Well, well," Indra drawled, his tone dripping with malice. "If it isn't the matriarch of the Uchiha Clan. How... gracious of you to pay me a visit, Mikoto."
Mikoto's fists clenched at her sides, her composure wavering under Indra's scrutiny. "Indra Uchiha," she greeted, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I've come to discuss the release of my husband and son."
A cruel smirk tugged at Indra's lips. "Release them? My, my, Mikoto.
You certainly have nerve. Tell me, what could you possibly offer that would warrant such... generosity?"
Mikoto's resolve faltered briefly, but the thought of her family's safety bolstered her courage. "Whatever you desire, Indra. If it's the Clan's loyalty, resources, anything—I implore you, spare Fugaku and Itachi."
Indra circled her, his presence suffocating. "And why should I, Mikoto? Your Clan opposed me, defied me. They chose their fate."
"Please," Mikoto whispered, her pride crumbling. "They are not just Clan members to me. They are my family. I beg you, have mercy."
Indra halted before her, his gaze piercing. "Mercy? A trait I've long discarded. But perhaps... we can come to an arrangement, you and I."
Mikoto's breath caught, a glimmer of hope flickering in her chest. "Anything. I'll do anything."
Indra's smirk widened, his intentions clear. "Anything, you say? Very well. Submit to me, Mikoto Uchiha, and I may consider your request."
The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises and threats. Mikoto's world tilted, the ground beneath her seeming to crumble.
Yet, the image of Fugaku and Itachi, bound and helpless, flashed before her eyes. With a heavy heart and trembling hands, she nodded her acquiescence.
Indra's laughter echoed through the ruins, a chilling melody that marked the beginning of Mikoto's descent into a living nightmare.
The fate of the Uchiha Clan, and that of her family, now rested on her shoulders, bound by a pact forged in desperation and sealed with a mother's love.
The air hung thick with unspoken tension as Mikoto Uchiha knelt before Indra, her posture rigid and her gaze fixed on the ground.
The weight of her decision pressed upon her shoulders, each passing moment a stark reminder of the pact she had made.
Across from her, Indra lounged on a makeshift throne, crafted from the very stones of the fallen Uchiha Compound.
His crimson eyes roamed over her form, a predatory hunger lurking within their depths.
"Well, well, Mikoto," Indra purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "How the mighty have fallen. The proud matriarch of the Uchiwa Clan, brought to her knees by her own desperation."
Mikoto's jaw clenched, her fists balled tightly in her lap. "I've come to uphold my end of the bargain, Indra. Now, I expect you to honor yours."
A cruel laugh escaped Indra's lips, echoing off the ruins surrounding them. "So eager to surrender your virtue, Mikoto?
Very well. But first…" He leaned forward, his gaze intensifying. "Tell me, do you truly believe this will save your precious family? Or are you merely delaying the inevitable?"
Mikoto's breath hitched, a tremor coursing through her frame. The image of Fugaku's defiant gaze and Itachi's innocent face flashed before her eyes, bolstering her resolve. "I do what I must," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Indra's smirk widened. "Indeed you do. Then let us begin." With a wave of his hand and a pulse of chakra, the bindings around Fugaku and Itachi loosened, though not enough to grant them freedom. "Watch closely, Fugaku, Itachi.
Witness the lengths to which your beloved Mikoto will go to spare your lives."
Fugaku's eyes blazed with fury and shame, his voice a strained growl. "Mikoto, don't do this! He'll destroy us all!"
Indra's laughter drowned out Fugaku's protests. "Silence, fool! Your wife has made her choice. Now, she will live with the consequences."
Mikoto closed her eyes, steeling herself against the humiliation and fear that threatened to overwhelm her.
With trembling hands, she reached for the clasps of her armor, each movement deliberate and heavy with resignation.
Piece by piece, she shed the symbols of her status, her protection, until she knelt in naught but her undergarments.
Indra leaned forward, drinking in her vulnerability. "Look at me, Mikoto," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
Reluctantly, Mikoto met his gaze, her cheeks flushed with shame. Indra's eyes darkened, a hunger flaring within them that chilled her to the core.
"Remove the rest," he ordered, his voice low and menacing. "Let me see what you offer in trade for your family's lives."
With each layer shed, Mikoto felt a piece of her soul wither away. Her undergarments fell to the ground, pooling around her knees, leaving her utterly exposed before Indra's ravenous gaze.
The cool breeze caressed her bare skin, a cruel mockery of the violation she endured.
"Beautiful," Indra murmured, his eyes roaming over every inch of her exposed form. "Wasted on that fool Fugaku."
Mikoto remained still, her gaze fixed on some distant point, her mind retreating to a place where she was not utterly degraded. Indra's words were but a distant buzz, a reminder of her sacrifice.
"Come here, Mikoto," Indra beckoned, his patience wearing thin. "It's time you learned your place."
On trembling legs, Mikoto approached him, each step a journey through shame and despair. As she drew near, Indra reached out, his calloused hands rough against her soft skin.
He gripped her shoulders, pulling her closer until she stood between his parted legs, her nakedness on full display.
"Such beauty," Indra mused, his breath hot against her skin. "It's a shame your husband never truly appreciated what he had."
Mikoto bit her lip, suppressing a whimper as Indra's hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour with unyielding possessiveness.
His touch, though unwelcome, sent shivers down her spine, her treacherous body responding despite her revulsion.
Indra's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. "You will address me as master," he growled, his patience at an end. "Now, show me the passion you've denied your husband for so long."
Mikoto's world tilted, her mind reeling from the command. Yet, the sight of Fugaku and Itachi bound and helpless in the corner of her vision served as a stark reminder of her pact. With a heavy heart, she sank to her knees, positioning herself between Indra's legs.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the waistband of his pants, her fingers fumbling with the clasp. Indra watched her intently, his amusement palpable.
"Eager, aren't we?" he taunted, his hand tangling in her hair, forcing her to meet his gaze. "But not eager enough, it seems."
Mikoto's cheeks burned with shame as she finally freed Indra's manhood from its confines.
The sight of his arousal sent a jolt of fear through her, the sheer size of him a stark contrast to Fugaku's modest endowment.
"Well?" Indra prompted, his impatience mounting. "I don't have all day, Mikoto. Show me what that mouth of yours can do."
With a deep, shuddering breath, Mikoto leaned forward, parting her lips to enclose the tip of Indra's member.
The taste of him flooded her senses, bitter and musky, a flavor she wanted desperately to reject.
Yet, she forced herself to move, her head bobbing slowly as she struggled to accommodate his girth.
Indra groaned, his hand guiding her pace, forcing her to take more of him with each descent.
Tears pricked at the corners of Mikoto's eyes, her jaw aching from the strain, her throat constricting around his intrusion.
"Pathetic," Indra spat, his tone dripping with disgust. "Is this truly the best you can do, Mikoto? Have you so neglected your wifely duties that even this simple act eludes you?"
Mikoto pulled back, gasping for air, her eyes downcast. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice hoarse.
"Please, give me a moment—"
Indra's laughter cut her off, cold and cruel. "A moment? You've had plenty of moments, Mikoto. Now, it's time you earned your family's freedom."
With renewed determination, fueled by desperation and fear, Mikoto resumed her ministrations.
She swirled her tongue around the head of Indra's manhood, teasing the sensitive underside, all the while ignoring the bitter taste that assaulted her senses.
Her hands, tentative at first, grew bolder, stroking the length of him that her mouth could not reach.
Indra's reactions emboldened her, his groans and muttered curses music to her ears. For in his pleasure, however repulsive, lay the key to her family's survival.
"Look at me," Indra growled suddenly, his hand fisting in her hair, stilling her movements. His gaze bored into hers, blazing with lust and triumph. "I want to see your face as you debase yourself for me."
Mikoto met his gaze, her eyes reflecting shame and defiance in equal measure. Slowly, deliberately, she hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she drew nearly his entire length into her mouth once more.
The tip of his manhood brushed the back of her throat, threatening to gag her, but she persevered, driven by her mission.
"Fuck," Indra hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily. "That's it, you bitch. Take it all. Choke on it."
Tears streamed down Mikoto's face, her throat working convulsively around Indra's intrusion. She could feel him swelling within her mouth, his release imminent.
"Stop," Indra commanded abruptly, pulling Mikoto back by her hair. His manhood, slick with her saliva, stood glistening and throbbing, a testament to her efforts.
Mikoto gasped, her lungs burning, her face flushed with exertion and humiliation. "Why?" she panted, confusion and fear warring within her. "I thought—"
"You thought wrong," Indra snapped, his gaze cold and calculating. "I have no intention of finding my release in your mouth, Mikoto. That pleasure is reserved for somewhere far more... satisfying."
Realization dawned on Mikoto, her blood running cold. "No," she whispered, horror etched on her features. "Our agreement—"
Indra's laughter drowned out her protests. "Did you truly believe I would be satisfied with just a taste, Mikoto? You underestimate me. Now, stand. It's time we moved this to a more... appropriate location."
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End of Chapter
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