A/N- My sincerest apologies for the delay in updating, however I was in Colorado at a music camp and couldn't practically do anything without my computer. I continued to write, so here you are, but one note about this chapter: this chapter will serve as a signpost for the fractured narrative to come. This will be my first real experience splitting the party, so it might be a little rough, but the journey will be fun enough. Final note, you are going to be confused here in the beginning, but on the plus side, it was time for some lemon. Enjoy.
xXx
No, there was nothing else in the world as thrilling as this. There was no rush of power as intoxicating nor arousal as gripping as that caused by the feel of a young woman's bare skin. He stood above his latest prize observing the careful display of her delicate form. The dark mahogany table that supported her bound torso contrasted with her ivory-pale skin and wide, darting eyes hidden behind a strip of black cotton. Her slender legs hung straight from the waist over the desk's edge, but even so, her toes only barely skimmed the carpet. This little beauty was payment for services rendered (or rather, services not rendered) for yet another insignificant village of stupid commoners. He absently trailed a rough, calloused hand across her backside, raising goose bumps on her skin, and noticed that one entire buttock fit comfortably in his palm. The week's worth of threats, rumormongering and intimidation were completely worth this moment. He intended to enjoy himself thoroughly.
To let her anticipation grow, he slowly strode away, carefully remaining out of her field of vision, and drew the curtains closed, blocking out even the faint sliver of moonlight streaming in through the beautiful, long windows. With her sight thusly hindered, her other senses would frantically redouble, allowing him maximum effect for minimal effort. He removed his belt, letting the buckle jingle freely, the response to which was a quiet gasp. He also let his suit jacket slide from his shoulders and folded it precisely across the back of the rolling, leather desk chair.
She was good and scared now, no doubt; she thought he was going to fuck her. Her maidenhood was surely his assumed price. In a way, it was, but it was beneath him to take a girl's virginity without her choice and especially when it wasn't something he had hunted for himself. What he wanted in reality was something much more delicate... and much more precious.
He took his place behind her once more, carefully preventing anything touch her, not even the cuff of his sleeve, though his slacks already bulged prominently. He let the quiet stretch on until her wrists stopped pulling against their cloth restraint and her breathing paused, completing the silence. It was only then that he let his hands warm the backs of her thighs from the indent behind her knees to the sweet curve of her ass with the slowest stroke he thought she could endure. The soft pressure of his hands caused her legs to part and expose the tender petals of her sex to the cool air. He allowed himself a moment for his eyes to finish adjusting to the darkness so he could see its dim outline, curving gently away from the straight horizontal and vertical lines of her prone body. He would return to that, but there was much more of her body to explore first. Standing on the other side of the desk now, he tucked a stray lock of long hair back into her wide blindfold and trailed his thumb lazily across her lower lip. Immediately, she licked away the feel and pressed her face closer to the desk, her face growing violently warm. He grinned openly in the darkness and reached lower, pulling on her shoulder until she was obliged to roll partially onto her side.
Her body was still long, streamlined by youth and unburdened by the weight of later maturity. Her father had assured him of her pristine morality, but he found it hard to imagine that a young man had not, at the very least, been permitted to observe her unclad form. This reasonable possibility didn't concern him in the least; young men rarely knew what to do with a ripe, young girl. By the same token, young women rarely knew what to do with their own bodies, but this would no longer be a gap in this young lady's education.
Absently, he cupped her small breast, feeling its delicacy and tweaking the nipple that quickly formed a tight bud, an exciting sign though his mind was already upon his next act. He laid her in her former position, facedown, then from a side table picked up a crystal tumbler half-full of a pungent liquid and took a sip. He also reached in and pulled out one of three partially melted ice cubes. It was so cold that it stung his palms, but he pressed his hands together until they were both wet and cold, then took the remaining sliver of ice and placed it at the base of her neck, right on the vertebrae between her shoulder blades. Of its own accord, it slipped down the slope of her back and for the first time, elicited a soft, but throaty moan. As her first expression of pleasure died away, he reached between her legs and brushed against her sex, his chilly fingertips a sharp contrast to her heat. He parted her burning lips and her body instantly drew a ragged gasp. His knuckle stroked her most intimate flesh, teasing the little nub that made her hands twitch.
"No..." she protested softly with a high, fluttery voice. Her legs pressed closed on his hand. "No..."
"Ah, ah," he corrected in a low rumble, moving her feet apart again with his own and tweaking her pearl in punishment. She groaned, pressing her face into the desk, her face surely burning scarlet. Her knees shook, still trying in vain to protect her modesty, but his hand felt a new slipperiness. Perfect.
The art of a woman's orgasm was a delicate, fragile process. The actual actions needed to be firm and deliberate, but quick to change in the light of new desires. With an experienced lover, it was easy to draw forth communication that helped the activity progress, but with a virgin, the only communication came from her body. Gently, he stroked her wet lips, first the outside, then the inside, up and down. Her skin was still mostly smooth, only lightly dotted with fine, blonde hair and just as sensitive as the rest of her body. He reveled in the way one stroke caused her to shiver and another caused her knees to lock, then chose a speed that matched the quick rhythm of her breath. The reward was a long, soft moan of surprise and satisfaction, but it wasn't long before each breath became a yearning squeak, which he took as his signal to speed his fingers along.
He could feel the electricity of her body riding on the edge. Should he be cruel and deny her or should he prolong her pleasure until the effort drove her crazy?
No. No, he would be merciful enough to give her the release she knew she needed, but had never experienced. He turned over his hand and used the soft pads of his fingers to manipulate her little clit and its thin sheath. A fine perspiration blossomed down her back and thighs, highlighting the rosy tint of her skin. Her hands struggled against their binding in vain while her back flexed and even her toes scrabbled for purchase in the carpet.
"Ah!" she panted, her voice rising quickly. "Moto! Onegai..."
Her orgasm came in short, punctuated waves heralded by a long, lusty moan and the crash of her knees against the desk drawers. He let her body boil, writhing against the wood until her gasps indicated that the continued touch of his fingers was painful. He watched her skin flush and twitch a moment longer, then took back his hand, drained the last of his drink in one swallow and left. His assistant stood outside the door a respectful distance away holding a magnificent bird of prey on his raised arm. "Message hawk for you, sir."
xXx
"Have you done what I asked?"
"Yes, Yoshida-sama."
"Good." A pair of hard shoes scuffled closer harshly. "Ugh. I suppose we should do something about that before we move her. Make sure they know to contain her."
"What should I do about the..."
"Do I look like I care? Throw alcohol on it."
"Won't that wake her up?"
"That might make this easier. Go ahead."
The shoes receded, but their noise was replaced by the scrape of a chair and some very loud swearing. Sakura couldn't hear the next few words, but a deafening crash was heard before a rough hand seized her cheek. This would have been uncomfortable enough, but then her neck burned with the intensity of 12 suns. If she could have breathed, Sakura would have screamed loud enough to deafen her assailant. Instead, her knee reflexively jerked upward and connected brutally with a less-than-flexible surface. With barely a whispered groan, the offender collapsed to the floor, which, judging by the sound he made, was wooden.
"Good, you did wake up. You owe me a new intern."
Sakura blearily looked for the source of Hiroko's extremely close voice. "D-did the chair offend you personally?" she asked slowly, trying out her raw vocal chords and indicating the lopsided piece of furniture with an inaccurate nod of the head. Her mouth was painfully dry but swallowing did not help.
"Hmph. Your humor survived. Pity. How do you feel?"
Sakura considered the question carefully. Her vision was narrow and fuzzy, only enough to make out a chair, a desk and the outline of Hiroko's torso. Experimentally, she pulled her wrists down and was rewarded with the cruel sound of metal on metal and the new knowledge that her muscles didn't yet have enough circulation to support themselves fully. The pain on her neck was receding, but she was aware of the stinging antiseptic liquid dripping under the collar of her blouse and down her chest, which was possibly the most bothersome sensation in the world directly under having a pebble in one's shoe. "All things considered, I've been better." Truthful, but she was disturbed by her lack of knowledge.
"Good enough."
The room was dark. In her peripheral vision, she saw that dark reddish curtains drawn across an entire wall, so it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. "Why am I here?"
"Because I wanted you to be here," Hiroko replied matter-of-factly, hiding the steel of her annoyance. "I found a use for you, a use that will be more profitable than outright killing you. Of course, your personal worth versus the damage I will undoubtedly incur from your village's attempts to recover you almost forced me to forgo my plans. Your little signal fire caused me quite the headache."
Good, thought Sakura. At least the village now knows that something is wrong. I need to find out how long I have been out so I know whether or not to expect a rescue mission any time soon.
"Signal fire?" she whispered, pretending not to remember. "When did I light a fire?"
"That damnable jutsu you performed just before my man took you. Doubtless it sapped the last of your strength." She smirked unpleasantly to herself. "Made you an easy target."
Sakura didn't have the energy to rise to her bait. She was more concerned by the fact that her question had not been answered with a time frame. "So... what are you planning on doing with me?"
"Selling you," Hiroko replied promptly, busying herself with tidying stacks of paper. "I have a woman who specializes in just the kind of transaction I want for you. With luck, she should have a buyer within the week, but I will have to get you cleaned up. For that, it would be easier for all concerned if you weren't awake to incapacitate more of my staff, so you will be chloroformed. Good night." Hiroko turned to a door in the bookshelf-lined wall behind her.
"Wait!" gasped Sakura, accidentally pulling roughly against her chains and jangling her joints. Her captor waited impatiently for her to catch her breath. "Where is S... my teammate?"
Hiroko's face was unreadable. She spoke deliberately after a long pause. "Dead."
xXx
"Gentleman and Ladies, we have a situation. You all saw the jutsu tonight and I presume each of you know what this means, but for the sake of documentation, I shall clarify."
Hinata looked at Ino, who looked at Lee, who looked at Naruto. Of course they had seen the brilliantly burning phoenix fly, screeching, towards the Hokage's home from the silent forest. Any ninja with a pair of ears for miles in every direction had seen and heard its loud signal. Even more memorable had been the sight of the Hokage, Tsunade-hime herself, flying down the stairs from her office out to the street of startled shinobi clad in only an emerald green dressing gown. "Why are you all standing here?" she had demanded, heedless of the distraction created by the loose clasps of her robe threatening to fall open. "Find them!"
The feverish woman of last night was not the same person who sat before them now and to remind her of last night's desperation and indiscretion would be inappropriate. Even the bird that had glowed blindingly red last night had changed into an inky black form, unconsciously reflecting the atmosphere and mood of the group from his perch on the Hokage's chair. "Sakura has been taken by the head of the effort to remove the Daimyo," said Tsunade, interrupting the reflections of her team. "This is not a hostage situation and no demands have been made. In fact under law, this event is seen as theft." She held back a derisive, treasonous snort.
"Under normal circumstances, I would consider it a strategic disadvantage to assign ninja to a mission in which there is an emotional investment, but," she said urgently, turning from the windows with their expansive view of her village to sit heavily at her desk and disturb the bird-drawing, "a personal commitment may be exactly what saves Sakura. I need you to track her and recover her. Don't try to engage the enemy; this is for reconnaissance and rescue only." Tsunade turned a pointed gate to hot-headed Naruto first, met his serious stare, then briefly looked into the eyes of every other young shinobi present.
"Here are your mission packets," she continued, gesturing that Shizune should pass out sealed manila folders. "These will detail what was found at the scene last night after evidence recovery and give you suggestions of where to begin a search."
Hinata raised a hand. "How long has Sakura been gone?"
"We can safely assume that she has been gone from the time the signal jutsu was activated," Tsunade answered, gesturing to the creature preening itself. "You may examine the bird yourselves if you wish, but anything that can be found so far has already been recorded in your mission papers."
"Woah," said Ino, rifling through her report. "We're going up against level-S shinobi? What level mission is this?"
Tsunade closed her eyes behind interlaced fingers. "S-Level."
The new teammates looked at one another with surprise. Apart from some incorrectly labeled missions,
"Take heart, comrades!" shouted Lee, throwing both fists into the air, "We will find Sakura and bring her back still in the flower of her youth!"
"Teme!" Naruto yelled back. "Why are you always...?"
"Silence!" Tsunade commanded. "You must understand this: this woman is dangerous. Sakura is in danger. Do not fail." The company avoided looking at each other, standing more still than necessary.
Tsunade sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Send in the next group."
xXx
A/N- So there you go. Next chapter we will be spending some quality time with Sakura and maybe things will make a bit more sense. Reviews are love... or hate. Whatever.