Training Ground 7, 6:12 a.m.
Naruto Uzumaki was no longer a person.
He was a feeling.
A sensation.
A tongue of warm, living silk and heat that had swallowed him whole.
He had been pulled (gently, worshipfully, irrevocably) into the center of the softest place in the universe: the overlapping, overlapping, overlapping crush of three sets of thighs that had been sculpted by some perverted god specifically to end him.
Kashi-chan's thighs came first.
They were the largest, the softest, the most obscene.
Each one was thicker than Naruto's entire torso, pale and flawless, quivering like fresh mochi.
The fishnets had long since surrendered; only a few desperate strands clung to the endless expanse of flesh like black lace on wedding cakes.
When she closed them around him, the world went dark and warm and wet.
There was no up or down.
Only pressure.
Only heat.
Only the slow, rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat through miles of plush fat that pressed against his ears until all he could hear was the muffled thunder of Kashi-chan's blood singing his name.
Naruto-kun.
Naruto-kun.
Naruto-kun~
Then Saku-chan's thighs layered on top, pink and impossibly thick, dimpled at the very top where they met her ass.
They squeezed from the sides, forcing Kashi-chan's even softer ones to mold around him tighter.
Her skin was warmer, almost feverish, and every time she flexed (just to feel him twitch) her thighs clapped together with a wet, lewd sound that vibrated straight into his spine.
Sasuki refused to be left out.
She wedged herself in from behind, sliding her own pale, toned-yet-plush thighs between the gaps until Naruto was completely cocooned in a living prison of female flesh.
Her skin was the coolest of the three, almost silky, and she kept whispering filthy things directly into his ear while grinding her dripping cunt against the small of his back.
"Can you breathe, Naruto-kun?" she purred, voice high and ruined. "Or are we too soft? Too warm? Too much for your poor little cock to handle~?"
Naruto tried to answer.
All that came out was a broken, muffled moan that vibrated through layers of thigh fat and made all three girls shudder in unison.
They answered with a slow, synchronized squeeze.
The world compressed.
His cock (still trapped in his pants, somehow) throbbed so hard he saw stars.
He came without being touched.
Then again.
Then again.
Time lost meaning.
There was only heat, pressure, the wet slap of skin on skin, the endless chorus of breathy, brainless versions of his name.
He was drowning in the best way possible.
He never wanted to be found.
Hokage Tower, 6:14 a.m.
Hiruzen Sarutobi had seen many things through his crystal ball.
Wars.
Massacres.
The birth of his grandchildren.
He had never, in all his decades, seen anything like this.
The orb glowed with soft blue light on his desk, reflecting the scene in perfect, merciless detail.
Three of his most promising shinobi (former shinobi) had been reduced to giggling, drooling, worshipful piles of exaggerated flesh, and they had trapped the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails between their thighs like he was a toy.
Hiruzen's pipe fell from his slack mouth and clattered to the floor.
He couldn't look away.
On the screen, Kashi-chan (his brilliant, tragic, untouchable student) was on her back in the grass, legs spread impossibly wide, thighs trembling as she used them to slowly, rhythmically crush Naruto deeper into oblivion.
Her tits were so massive they had flopped to either side of her torso like pale, leaking mountains, nipples dragging through the dirt with every heave of her chest.
Sasuki was behind Naruto now, arms wrapped around his waist from the back, grinding her soaked pussy against his ass while whispering endless streams of filth directly into his ear.
Saku-chan had claimed the front.
She was sitting on Naruto's face (or what little of it was still visible), pink thighs clamped around his head like a vice, riding his tongue with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips while her tits bounced so hard they slapped her own chin.
All three were crying.
Not from pain.
From overwhelming, brain-melting love.
"Naruto-kun~" Kashi-chan sobbed, voice cracking into something high and childish. "Sensei's thighs were made for this—for keeping you warm forever—please never leave—never leave—never—"
Saku-chan came again, screaming his name so loud the crystal ball's audio crackled.
Sasuki just kept whispering, over and over, like a broken prayer:
"Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Naruto-kun is mine. Mine to love. Mine to breed. Mine to keep between my thighs until the world ends—"
Hiruzen's hands shook.
He reached for the orb to turn it off.
He couldn't.
His finger hovered.
On the screen, Naruto's hand (the only part of him still visible) emerged from the thigh prison like a drowning man reaching for air.
Then it deliberately, lovingly, sank back down into the flesh and pulled Kashi-chan's thighs tighter around himself.
He didn't want to escape.
He wanted to disappear forever.
Hiruzen made a sound.
It was not a human sound.
It was the sound of a very old man watching the last shred of his village's dignity die in real time, drowned in pussy juice and unconditional love.
He slumped back in his chair.
The pipe lay forgotten on the floor.
Somewhere in the distance, the village bell tower struck seven.
The Professor closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, they were glassy.
A slow, trembling smile spread across his ancient face.
He reached for a scroll.
He began to write, in shaking characters:
Emergency Decree: All missions cancelled until further notice.
Reason: The jinchūriki is… indisposed.
Indefinitely.
He paused.
Then added, in smaller letters:
May the Will of Fire forgive us.
We have created a god.
And he is currently being thigh-fucked into another plane of existence by his own genin team.
Hiruzen sealed the scroll with trembling fingers.
Then, very quietly, he turned the crystal ball toward the wall so the ANBU wouldn't see.
And watched.
Just for a little longer.
Just to be sure Naruto was… comfortable.
End of Chapter 5
(Chapter 6 will be the longest transformation yet.
Someone is coming to rescue Naruto.
She's about to discover that resistance is futile… and thighs are hereditary.)