Hello dear readers and religious seekers of smut. Wondering what is the Smut Bucket? Let me explain. The Smut Bucket will be a place for fellow lovers of all things dirty to come enjoy and unwind. Stories will range from soft, tender lovers to hardcore, dark sadist encounters of the orgasmic kind. Every time a chapter is updated, the summary and status will be changed to the proper section in FFN. That being said, have a taste of the first story and enjoy.

For Gazille/Levi, please click onward the second chapter for Entry two.

Entry One: Itachi/Sakura, written for an old friend many years ago. Thought you might enjoy.

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Hurt

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He loved seeing her hurt. In pain, in denial of her pleasure. The hate in her eyes and the agony twisting her mouth. The rythmatic, jarring motion of her body beneath his.

He wouldn’t stop until she gave him what he wanted. Her tears, her cries, her peak. She would cum for him if she wanted this to end. If she wanted his onslaught to stop, then she would simply submit willingly. She never lasted long against him, anyways.

Her legs squirmed against him, pushing against his trim hips. Her heels digging into the hard floor beneath her trying to scoot away from his body. He would not allow this ridiculous behavior much longer.

“Do you enjoy making this more difficult on yourself?” He questioned, the deep waves of his voice pulling at her ear like a dark symphony. She swallowed and slowly settled her legs in a broad spread for the heavy body atop hers.

She felt his hand on her thigh, squeezing firmly. Short nails puncturing her skin and leaving bruises the size of dimes. “Touch yourself.” He told her. She studied his face, the grim and disturbing features that completed his malevolent aura. Evil. Purely wicked and lacking moral. His darkness frightened her, it made her tremble in his presence. But only a fool would allow him to see such weakness of the heart. If he knew of her fear, of her dread for this man, then he would most certainly take full advantage of this aspect...it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right.

“I...I don’t want to.” She whispered, her teeth nearly chattering in apprehension.

A smirk steadily snaked over the line of his thin lips. Letting his other hand gently, lovingly pet the rosette hair from her brow as he lowered his chest to hers. Stopping most of her air flow under his pressure. She flinched at this, knowing what such a touch could bring upon her.

“Sakura,” He spoke calmly, the fingers swimming in her hair becoming intertwined with her locks, creating small knots around the appendages. His dull nails scraping softly along her scalp. “I said,” His mouth and nose nuzzled in an odd, disturbing kind of way against her cheek and then her ear. “Touch yourself.” Again, his voice betrayed nothing of his sickness as the fingers bineded within her hair gave a violent jerk backwards. Wrenching her neck into a painful arch.

She cried out as her spine protested and curved upwards into him, trying to accommodate for the physically odd angle her head was being pulled into. Her breathing shooting out in quick pants as pain shot down her back.

“P-please...” Her hands began shaking, settling on his shoulders and pushing in futile attempts to be free of all this. “St-stop this.” Sakura cried out again when the pressure being applied to her neck got another jolting tug.

He loved those cries. Took great satisfaction in knowing he was the bain of her dilemma. It sent a hot fire to his loins and fueled his need to force her into whatever mold he wanted. A mold of hate, lust, loathing, anger...every emotion he planted in her heart.

When the creak in her neck grew unbearable, that was when she finally gave in. She let her hand slide from his broad shoulder to slip between their bodies. Hesitantly letting nimble fingers find the juncture of her thighs. Detaching herself as much as possible from this situation as she began to massage the sensitive scape of flesh, moving the pad of her index finger over the seem of her folds before dipping in to touch her clit. Jumping a little at the sensation it suddenly produced. She hated that sensation.

“Good,” He drawled, failing to diminish the solid grasp he had on her hair. “Now, open yourself for me.” She felt something against her fingers, she felt him. The head of his erection poising at her entrance to make good use of her body.

She scowled. “Go fuc–.” She hissed, her insult being cut abruptly when a terrible gasp caught in her throat as he took action without warning.

He groaned into her neck as he invaded her a single inch. “That kind of behavior won’t get you far.” The bruising hand on her thigh strayed down to the back of her knee, lifting her leg further around his hip.

And then he took her by surprise, giving no cautioned or heeding words and leaving her unprepared. The thick girth of his member sinking deeply into her belly before she could even protest.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” He pulled out, enjoying the labor of her lungs against his chest. “Tell me how I make you feel.” Back in. He wasn’t slow, but he was making it dutifully obvious he was taking his own sweet time in harassing her center. And that he was enjoying it.

“I can’t.” She turned away in shame as she wrapped her other leg around him, latching her ankles together.

“Am I hurting you?” That voice, so dark and imprudent. Sinking into her very being. Infecting her.

“Yes,” She croaked on a sob of absolute humiliation when she continued to rub her special button, the tip of her finger feeling the ridges of his shaft moving in and out of her.

“Do you hate this?” It was slight, but he quickened his pace. “Do you hate the way I feel inside you?”

“Y-yes,” A undiluted wave of pleasure coursed over her skin. He watched her face, contorting and forming into a blistering denial of the hot sensations flooding her tender core. Leaving her susceptible to his sickly sweet tortures.

Long fingers detangled themselves from her once tamed hair, freeing her head to rest upon his shoulder. Gliding down the back of her neck, the rough skin of his hand felt like sandpaper at her nape. “And this,” His cruel nature taunted him to go even further. Curling his fingers to cut his nails into her skin, raking their dull tips down her spine leaving behind swollen, red skin. Her body instantly pushed into his to escape the sensations of vexing needles in her back. “It this too much for you to bare?” Two nails broke through skin at her shoulder blade. Hearing the scream that followed sent him into a blissful state of mind. Driving him to a harder rhythm of lust. Continuing to whisper crude, hateful and degrading comments into her ear.

“Scream for me.” She refused by closing her eyes and put all her efforts into forgetting about her situation. But her refusal was cut short when she felt his hand on her jaw. Clasping and squeezing the gentle curvature of bone, sinking his fingers into the soft muscle of her cheeks. “Scream for me, like I’m ripping out your heart. Scream my name and beg for my mercy.” She felt his teeth at her neck, just below her lobe.

His grip tightened, hurting her. Bruising her. “No...” She whispered her protest into his ear.

There was no hope for it, this was a useless fight. He simply had to thrust into her with mind-jarring enthusiasm for him to succeed in milking her of his wish. A shaft that was near too big to be inside of her became unforgiving. And she swore she felt something tear despite the fact that this was not his first time with her.

She screamed, loud and waling. A of collage suffering and pain, but tinged with appeasement.

His rhythm was doing something to her, something she hated and loved and endured with a secret pleasure. This pace was maddening to tolerate for long, to remain in such heightened senses of erotic desires.

Sakura felt it, knew it was coming. And she knew she’d be defenseless to fight it. He wouldn’t stop until she peaked, he never did. It was his sick way of keeping control, letting her know that no matter how much she may detest him he’d always make her come. Hard and strong and gut-wrenchingly wonderful.

“You didn’t last long this time.” He felt her body reacting quickly, the familiar contractions of tightening walls. Noticing the frantic way she was rubbing her body between them.

She ignored him and lost herself in a high point of her wanton appetite. Pressing her clit rhythmically with her heart beat. Her green eyes watering as her thighs felt the spasms approaching.

He lifted himself onto his elbows to watch her. A hand reaching over to flick a puckered nipple. That simple action was the trick that broke the lock.

Sakura threw her head back, arching her neck and back as he looked on in detached amusement at how easy she had become.

Her breathing labored across her lips, erratically cascading through clenched teeth. Her long nails finding purchase on the carpet of the floor he had taken her upon. A groan of pure erotic nature a testament to his power over her.

The girl was shivering, still feeling him moving within her. Prolonging the pleasure when she really wanted to run from him.

He wouldn’t take much longer now, he’d be done soon. His movements were turning desperate for release.

And as she slowly lowered the curve of her spine back to the floor she whispered his name, her body moving in accord to his final thrust followed by the punctuated grinding of the hips. Feeling his lips curl back and his teeth graze her skin as he groaned in an unadultered masculine tone of satisfaction.

Then the invariable scalding liquid that poured deep into her abdomen.

Sakura turned her face away and tried to blink away the tears that came.

He knew exactly how much he anguished her, and what she hated most...was knowing that he loved seeing her hurt.

“Itachi...”