Makings of a Full-Time Addict

(Note: This story is part of an ongoing series of Naruto stories)
Previous Story (Chapter 109): [LINK]
Beginning (Chapter 01): [LINK]
Next Story (Chapter 111): To Be Continued…

 

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“So, to recap,” said Sarada as she, Boruto, Sumire, and Wasabi walked with Hanabi through the streets of Ranko Island’s main city. The entire lot of them were naked save for some sandals to protect their feet. And in Hanabi’s case, a sarong wrapped around her waist, though she had it parted in front to let her neatly shaved pussy remain exposed. “This, whatever it is, convergence of Chakra on this island, the thing that’s bringing people back from the dead, is also killing us?”

 

Hanabi nodded, “Yes, that’s the gist of it. It has to do with all the chakra natures running rampant here. And how thick the air is with it. For someone who can control all of them, it’s no real issue at all. People who don’t use jutsu techniques are also unaffected. But for the rest of us, it’s like slow poisoning. If it stayed steady like it was when we first came to the island, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But this Festival has changed things. I don’t think there’s ever been this many shinobi here while the festival was happening.”

 

“I dunno Captain,” said Wasabi, running a hand through her short brown hair, “I mean, I feel fine. Horny for Boruto’s giant dick to stuff my cunt. But other than that, I’m good.”

 

“That’s because you haven’t been here long enough for the chakra levels to turn toxic.” explained Hanabi, “Naruto and I were at the center of the island, where the chakra was infused into a natural spring. He was knocked flat by it after a while.”

 

“Is my shitty old man still alive?” Boruto asked.

 

“Yes, but we need to gather as many as we can, then use either one of Sasuke’s portals, or that Flying Thunder technique of Naruto’s.” Hanabi said.

 

“You mean my grandfather’s jutsu?” Boruto asked.

 

“That’s the one,” Hanabi said, “It will take no small effort, but we should be able to get everyone off the island in time.”

 

“Haaaaah, this sucks! I dunno if I wanna go back yet! Being your cock slave ain’t so bad, you know?” Wasabi said, winking at Boruto.

 

“Speak for yourself, cat-slut!” Sarada snapped.

 

“Awww, don’t be like that, Sarada!” Wasabi teased, “I thought you finally accepted it already?”

 

“I have! At least, I understand that the effects of the Kami Chinpo are real. I just…” Sarada began, but trailed off. “…I just don’t like how easy it is to give in,” Sarada finished, voice low, cheeks burning hotter than the island sun. Her Sharingan flickered, trying to focus on anything but the thick, half-hard cock swinging between Boruto’s thighs with every step. The city’s neon haze reflected off the sweat on his abs, ‘Stop staring, damn it.’ But her womb clenched like a fist, a deep, aching pulse that made her thighs slick all over again.

 

Wasabi snickered, bumping Sarada’s shoulder. “Easy? Girl, you were begging him to fuck you earlier. Remember? I think it was something like, ‘Ahhh, Borutoooo!! Ahh, fuck me! Just fuck me! Fuck me and let me suck your cock! Stand between my legs and fuck me, until you can’t fuck me anymore, then fuck me more!!!’” said Wasabi, doing a rather decent interpretation of her voice.

 

“Shut up!” Sarada hissed, but the words only made the memory flash hotter: Boruto’s hips slamming into her, the stretch, the fill, the way her mind had spun uselessly as he pumped her full. She bit her lip hard enough to taste copper.

 

Hanabi glanced back, amused. “Focus, ladies. Poisoned chakra, ticking clock.” She flicked her sarong open wider, the fabric brushing her hips like a taunt. “Though, I do wonder how Sarada’s legendary control is holding up against that particular… stimulus.”

 

Boruto, oblivious or pretending to be, scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll hit the beach district first. Kaguya should be fine with Himawari for a while.”

 

Sarada’s gaze snapped to his cock again as it twitched, thickening under the attention. A bead of pre-cum pearled at the slit, glistening. Her mouth watered. No. Mission. But her pussy throbbed in time with her heartbeat, a silent scream: Fill me, breed me, ruin me. She clenched her fists, nails digging crescents into her palms, and forced her eyes up, only to meet Boruto’s knowing smirk.

 

“Something wrong, Sarada?” he asked, voice innocent, but the way his dick jumped said otherwise.

 

Wasabi leaned in, whispering loud enough for the whole street to hear: “Bet her womb’s doing cartwheels right now. ‘Boruto-kun, stuff me again! Pretty please and with a creampie on top!’”

 

Sarada’s face flamed. “I said shut up!” But her hips shifted, thighs rubbing together, chasing friction she couldn’t have. Not yet. Not until the mission…

 

Hanabi’s Byakugan flared. “Contact. Three shinobi from the Water Village contingent, two blocks ahead. They’re… busy. Let’s move.” She took off at a sprint, her sarong fluttering behind her like a flag.

 

The group followed, Sarada’s pulse pounding in her ears, and lower. ‘Just a little longer, she told herself. Then I’ll beg.’

 

Two hours blurred into a haze of frantic coordination, the group splitting and reforming like shadows in the neon-drenched streets of Ranko Island’s main city. They’d hit the beach district first, then the sprawling resort hubs, whispering warnings into ears mid-thrust, pulling shinobi from tangled limbs and chakra-infused orgies. A few times the people they found actually asked for a full explanation, which took a while every time. Their group shortened it to this: The revival energy was a kind of poison to shinobi, one that could be deadly with too much prolonged exposure. A Konoha jonin took up their task, spreading out and delivering the warning to the others. Along with the plan for a kind of mass evacuation in the next few days. Naruto and her father were going to use their respective long distance teleportation Jutsu to get as many as possible off the island.

 

But for Sarada, the mission was a distant drumbeat, drowned out by the roaring pulse between her thighs.

 

‘Gods, why did I fight it so long?’ she thought, glasses fogging slightly as sweat trickled down her temple. Her Sharingan spun lazily, unbidden, zooming in on Boruto’s cock as he strode ahead, thick, veiny, swinging heavy between his legs like a promise. It wasn’t even fully hard, but the way it bobbed with each step, the faint glisten of pre-cum at the tip from the island’s humid kiss… It made her womb ache! A deep, hollow throb that started in her core and radiated out, making her pussy clench around nothing, lips slick and swollen, dripping down her inner thighs in embarrassing rivulets. ‘Stupid, stubborn idiot.’ Sarada mentally berated herself, ‘Denying the Kami Chinpo like some academy prude. Look what it’s done, turned me into this needy mess.’

 

She walked on autopilot, feet scuffing the sandy pavement, the city’s moans and neon a blurry backdrop. Every few steps, her hips twitched involuntarily, chasing friction that wasn’t there. The need was visceral: her clit pulsed like a second heartbeat, begging for touch; her inner walls twitching, empty and desperate, remembering the stretch of Boruto’s girth splitting her open earlier. ‘If I’d just submitted sooner…’ she thought, then steeled herself, no more pretending. ‘No more ‘I’m an Uchiha, I control my desires. Bullshit. This hunger… it’s real. It’s me now.’

 

Wasabi glanced back, smirking. “Earth to Sarada? You look like you’re about to hump a lamppost.”

 

Hanabi chuckled softly, sarong fluttering. “Let her be. The island’s got us all on edge. Though if she stares any harder at Boruto’s dick, she might activate a new dojutsu.”

 

Sarada’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Boruto’s cock twitched under her gaze, was he flexing? Thickening just enough to make her mouth water. ‘Fuck. I need it. Need him slamming into me, filling this aching void.’ Her hands moved without thought, sliding up her torso to cup her massive breasts. They were partially unsealed now, with each one as big as her head, heavy and full. Her nipples hardened into stiff peaks as her fingers squeezed the soft flesh. The sensation shot straight to her pussy, a fresh gush of slick coating her thighs. ‘If I unsealed them fully… gods, they’d be huge, ballooning out to torso-size, impossible to hide. But right now? This is torture enough.’ she thought to herself.

 

She kneaded harder, thumbs circling her nipples, biting back a moan as the group turned a corner into a quieter alley, scouting for more shinobi. Boruto paused ahead, and his cock swayed invitingly. Sarada’s womb screamed: Take it. Beg. Spread. She cursed herself again, ‘Idiot, you could’ve been riding that every night instead of fighting!’ and squeezed her breasts until milk-white skin spilled between her fingers, the ache in her core turning to a burning inferno. ‘Just a little longer, and I’ll break. I’ll beg him to fuck me senseless.’

 

Sumire slowed her pace until she fell in step beside Sarada, the alley’s neon glow flickering across her flushed cheeks. She leaned in, voice a conspiratorial whisper that barely carried over the distant moans of the city.

 

“Sarada… just ask him,” she murmured, violet eyes glassy. “We can wait five minutes. Maybe even ten. The others won’t care; we’re all dripping ourselves. But Boruto’s already taken care of us.”

 

Sarada’s fingers froze on her own breasts, squeezing involuntarily. Sumire’s breath hitched as she continued, words tumbling out like a confession.

 

“My womb aches for it too. Every time I picture Boruto’s cock, that thickness, that length, the way it’d bulge my stomach like I’m pregnant, I…” Her voice cracked; a soft, wet schlick sounded between her legs as her pussy clenched hard enough to squirt a thin ribbon onto the pavement. Sumire’s knees buckled, a lewd, open-mouthed moan escaping before she caught herself on Sarada’s shoulder.

 

“Nngh, see? Just thinking about it and I cum,” she panted, thighs trembling. “Ask him, Sarada. Before we both lose it and tackle him in the street.”

 

Sarada’s Sharingan spun wild circles, red tomoe blurring as her internal war detonated. ‘No, no, no, control, Uchiha pride, the mission…!’ But every mantra shattered the instant she looked up.

 

Hanabi had dropped to a crouch in front of Boruto, sarong fallen open, pale thighs spread. Her tongue was already buried in his mouth, swirling slow and filthy, one hand cupping his heavy balls while the other traced the full, obscene length of his cock, fingers unable to close around the girth, thumb smearing pre-cum over the flared head. Boruto groaned into the kiss, hips rocking forward, the fat shaft pulsing against Hanabi’s palm like it had a mind of its own.

 

The sight punched the air from Sarada’s lungs! Her pussy clenched so hard a fresh gush of slick ran down her legs, her womb screamed, and her pride snapped like a twig.

 

“FINE!” The word tore out of her, raw and desperate. She stormed forward, massive breasts bouncing with every furious step. “Boruto! Let’s go fuck somewhere, I can’t take it anymore!”

 

Hanabi broke the kiss with a wet pop, lips glistening, smirking like she’d planned it. Boruto’s cock jumped at Sarada’s voice, slapping heavily against his abs. Sumire whimpered behind them, thighs pressed tight. Wasabi just laughed, already palming herself.

 

Sarada didn’t care who watched. She grabbed Boruto’s wrist, yanked him toward the nearest alley doorway, and shoved him against the wall. “Now.”

 

Boruto’s laugh came out sheepish, a flush creeping up his neck even as his cock throbbed harder at Sarada’s demand. “H-Hey, easy, I’m coming…” He caught her wrist before she could drag him into the open alley, gesturing to a half-lit side door wedged between two dumpsters. “In here. Trust me.”

 

The door swung open on rusted hinges, and the thump-thump-thump of bass hit them like a physical wall. Inside: Club Ruin, a deliberate wreck of a dance/sex den. Strobe lights stuttered over cracked concrete, graffiti scrawled in glowing chakra-paint: “CUM ON THE WALLS! IT’S ART”. The music was deafening, industrial synth layered with wet slaps and moans, drowning out the orgy sprawled across the floor.

 

Boruto threaded Sarada through the chaos, one hand on her lower back, cock bobbing ahead like a lantern.

 

They passed a young couple, a tall, tattooed Iwa jonin had his partner, a petite Cloud kunoichi, pinned face-down on a splintered bar table. Her legs dangled, toes barely brushing the floor, while he railed her from behind. Each thrust sent her small tits skidding across the sticky wood, nipples leaving wet streaks. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, pulling her back onto a cock that looked almost comically oversized, thick, veiny, the head popping in and out of her stretched pussy with lewd schlorping noises. She screamed into the tabletop, drool pooling, every slam making her ass ripple like water.

 

There was a threesome at the center floor, under a flickering red bulb. A Suna redhead knelt between two men, one Konoha, one Kiri, eyes glassy but cocks rock-hard. The Konoha guy had her by the hair, feeding her his dick in slow, choking thrusts, balls slapping against her chin. The Kiri shinobi was behind her, buried in her ass, hips snapping so hard her whole body jolted forward onto the first cock. Her pussy gaped empty, dripping, a chakra-vibe buzzing against her clit on a timer. With every synchronized thrust, she came, squirting in arcs that splashed the floor, her muffled screams vibrating around the cock in her throat. The men grinned at each other over her back, high-fiving mid-stroke.

 

Sarada gasped, Sharingan still spinning, she could see every lewd detail in the entire room in high definition, pussy clenching so hard she nearly stumbled. The strain made her eyes water as Boruto tugged her onward, past a couple fucking against a speaker (the bass vibrating straight into her spine), and shouldered open a graffiti-tagged door marked “PISS & CUM – EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

 

The bathroom was vile. Flickering fluorescent bulb. Puddles of unidentifiable fluids on cracked tile. A single stall door hanging off one hinge, toilet overflowing with used condoms. The mirror was smeared with handprints and cum streaks; someone had written “SAKURA WUZ HERE” in lipstick. The air reeked of piss, sex, and cheap disinfectant.

 

Sarada rounded on him, breasts heaving. “Are you kidding me? It’s filthier in here than the alley! You couldn’t find a cleaner place to fuck your desperate teammate?!”

 

Boruto shouldered past the hanging stall door, nudging Sarada inside with a grin that said ‘trust me’. The space was barely lit by a dying bulb overhead. No toilet. Just a cracked tile floor, graffiti-scrawled walls, and two perfectly round holes cut into the partitions on either side, exactly at waist height. Glory holes. Clean, oiled, and clearly used (fresh cum still dripping from the edges).

 

Sarada’s Sharingan flared. “You planned this, you bastard!”

 

Boruto’s laugh cut off as she shoved him back against the wall, breasts crushing to his chest. Her mouth crashed into his, desperate, tongue plunging deep, silver lipstick smearing across his lips. She broke away only to drag kisses down his neck, his pecs, leaving glossy silver prints like brands. Then she went even lower, over the ridges of his abs, the swirl of the Uzumaki seal, until she dropped to her knees on the filthy tile, uncaring of the puddles.

 

His cock jutted up, flushed and leaking. Sarada’s hands wrapped around the base—fingers barely meeting—and she kissed the tip, silver lips leaving a perfect ring around the head. Another kiss along the underside, then the shaft, marking him in shimmering streaks. “Mine,” she growled, voice shaking.

 

Then she swallowed him.

 

The head popped past her lips, stretching them wide. She took him deep in one greedy swift movement, throat relaxing on instinct, nose brushing his pelvis. The taste, salt, pre-cum, Boruto, exploded across her tongue. Her now dark eyes rolled back, the Sharringan finally settling down. Her pussy clenched, untouched, and she came. Hard. A muffled scream vibrated around his cock as her walls spasmed, squirting in a hot arc that splashed the tile between her knees. Her thighs shook, silver lipstick smearing further as she bobbed frantically, cheeks hollowing, drool and pre-cum mixing in silver strings.

 

Boruto groaned, hands threading through her black hair. “Fuck… Sarada…”

 

The stall door rattled as someone outside pressed against a glory hole, a thick cock sliding through the left opening, already dripping. Another appeared on the right. Sarada didn’t stop. Couldn’t. She sucked harder, eyes watering, another orgasm already building from the sheer filth of it all.

 

Sarada pulled off Boruto’s cock with a wet pop, silver lipstick smeared down the shaft in glossy streaks. She whipped her head toward the glory holes, Sharingan blazing red.

 

“Get lost!” she barked, voice raw. “I already have a cock in here, and it’s way bigger than those pathetic twigs!”

 

The two dicks on either side of the stall hesitated, then retreated with a pair of disgruntled schlurps. One muttered through the wall, “Picky bitch…” before footsteps shuffled away.

 

Sarada dropped to all fours on the grimy tile, knees splashing in a puddle of someone else’s cum. Her massive breasts swayed like pendulums, nipples scraping the floor. She arched her back, presenting her dripping pussy and the tight pucker above it, thighs trembling.

 

“Hurry up, Boruto,” she growled, looking back over her shoulder, glasses fogged. “Rearrange my fucking organs with that dick.”

 

Boruto chuckled, low and rough, stepping behind her. He set the heavy length of his cock between the cheeks of her ass, hot, slick, and throbbing while letting it rest there like a threat. The head nudged her lower back, leaving a wet trail of pre-cum.

 

“Damn, Sarada,” he teased, giving her ass a sharp slap that echoed in the stall. “Suddenly really into this, huh?”

 

Sarada’s voice cracked like a whip, raw and furious. “Your fault! You and that damn Kami Chinpo you didn’t even know you were using!” She slammed a palm against the tile, breasts jiggling with the impact. “You broke me, Boruto! Turned me into this-this needy, dripping mess! And now you’re gonna take responsibility!”

 

She shoved her ass back, grinding against his cock, the slick length sliding between her cheeks. “If I’ve gotta be your whore like Kaguya, you’re gonna use me every fucking day, got it!?” Her Sharingan spun wild, tears of frustration and lust streaking her cheeks. “Every. Single. Day. Until my womb’s completely stained with your cum, now fuck me!”

 

“Alright, alright already,” Boruto muttered, but the grin splitting his face betrayed every ounce of smug satisfaction. He grinned down at her, drinking in the sight of Sarada on all fours, massive breasts dragging across the filthy tile, silver lipstick smeared down his cock like war paint.

 

‘I’ll get him back for this,’ she swore silently, Sharingan spinning with vengeful heat. ‘One day I’ll…’

 

The thought exploded into white noise the instant Boruto slammed in.

 

One, brutal, merciless thrust and his cock speared her to the hilt, the sheer girth spreading her wider than wide. Her belly distended dramatically, the thick outline of his shaft bulging beneath her skin like a second spine, the head kissing her womb so deep it felt like it was using it like a glove. The stretch was catastrophic, her pussy lips stretched thin around the base, inner walls clamped down in a death-grip, every vein dragging against her G-spot like a live wire.

 

“FUUUUCK!” Sarada screamed, voice shattering into the stall. Her Sharingan rolled white. ORGASM! A violent gush of squirt blasted from her cunt, splashing Boruto’s balls, thighs, and the floor in a hot, forceful arc. The relief was euphoric, like gulping ice water after crawling through a desert, every nerve igniting in grateful, desperate bliss. Her pussy spasmed uncontrollably, milking him in rhythmic pulses.

 

Boruto pulled back, slow, deliberate, until just the head remained, her walls clinging greedily. The drag was torture: every ridge scraping her sensitive spots, the emptiness aching.
“I’M YOUR WHOOOORE…!” she wailed as he slammed back in. ORGASM! Her belly bulged again, the outline of his cock pressing up under her ribs. Juices jetted out around the seal, soaking his balls. “I’M YOUR CUM DUMPSTER!!! BREED MEEEEE!!!!”

 

He set a punishing rhythm, hips swinging like pistons, each thrust lifting her knees off the tile. The stall rattled, door banging. IN: “FILL ME UP, BORUTOOOO!!!” ORGASM! Squirt. OUT: “RUIN YOUR UCHIHA SLUUUUUT!!!” ORGASM! Squirt. Her massive breasts swung like wrecking balls, nipples scraping the floor, leaving streaks in the puddles. The bulge in her belly rose and fell with every stroke, an obscene metronome of conquest.

 

“EVERY DAY! PROMISE ME!!” she sobbed, drool stringing from her lips. Another orgasm chained into the last, her pussy clamping so hard Boruto hissed. “CUM IN YOUR DUMPSTER!!! MAKE ME CARRY YOUR KIDS!!!!”

 

He growled, hands gripping her hips, cock swelling impossibly thicker. The next thrust bottomed out, head churning her womb. Sarada’s voice cracked into a scream as she came again, harder, squirting in a continuous stream, the relief so intense her vision tunneled. Boruto’s pace turned feral, balls slapping her clit with wet smacks. “Gonna… Fuuuuck… Paint your womb…” he groaned.

 

“DO IT! FLOOD YOUR WHOOOOOORE!!” Sarada demanded.

 

He erupted.

 

Ropes of thick cum blasted her depths, her belly swelling as it filled. Sarada felt every pulse, every throb, every twitch. Each one sent her into another orgasm, her walls milking him dry, her juices mixing with his seed in a filthy puddle beneath them. She collapsed forward, cunt still impaled, trembling in aftershocks, silver lipstick smeared across her cheek where it pressed the tile.

 

“Every… fucking… day…” she panted, voice wrecked, pussy still fluttering around him.

 

Boruto’s hips locked, cock buried to the root, and he unleashed again.

 

This time, the jet was a geyser, thick, scalding, chakra-laced cum flooding Sarada’s womb in a single, endless pulse. Gallon after gallon pumped into her, her skin stretched taut around his dick, the outline of Boruto’s cockhead visible beneath her belly.

 

For one shattering moment, Sarada’s sanity snapped. Her Sharingan eyes rolled white. Her mind shrank to a single, perfect truth: ‘I was born for this. Born to be Boruto’s cum-filled whore. My pussy, my womb, my existence, are all for his dick.’

 

The thought consumed her, a white-hot religious epiphany, every nerve singing in worship.

 

Then the torrent slowed. Boruto’s cock throbbed one last time, and he pulled out with a lewd, sucking SCHLOOOORP.

 

The dam broke.

 

Cum exploded from Sarada’s gaping pussy like a fire hose, a thick, white torrent blasting across the stall, splattering the walls, the floor, the glory holes. The force lifted her hips, her body convulsing as another orgasm ripped through her.

 

“CUMMING!!! FROM YOUR SEED SHOOTING OUT OF MEEEEE!!!” she screamed, voice cracking.

 

The flood drained her belly in seconds, leaving her trembling, pussy gaping, still twitching.
Hanabi stepped through the stall door, sarong fluttering, smiling like a big sister. She crouched, sliding an arm under Sarada’s shoulders to help her stand on shaky legs.

 

“Up you go, future mommy,” Hanabi teased, patting Sarada’s still-soft belly. “Though I’ll be the first to carry Boruto’s baby. Onee-chan privileges.” She winked.

 

Sarada could only whimper, legs jelly, cum still dripping from her thighs. Boruto slung an arm around her waist, chuckling. “Mission first, babies later.”

 

They stumbled out the front door of Club Ruin, neon strobes flashing over their cum-soaked bodies as the city swallowed them again.

 

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(Story by User: SailorIo)