IMPORTANT WARNING I: I'll be rewriting chapter one in the future, and I'd highly recommend people reread it. There are just a few things that I wrote about Itachi and Sakura never interacting before that sort of bothered me.
IMPORTANT WARNING II: always make sure to check chapter one to see if any new content was added to the warning tags – this way, you'll be able to drop the story in case you come across something you might find unsettling to read.
Either way, enjoy!
CHAPTER III – Survival Instinct
To write over 11K word chapter for over 600 MOTHER FUCKERS to read it and few leave a feedback is seriously FUCKING UPSETING. Fuck this, and fuck you. Dangerously Obsessive is on HIATUS and won't be updated anymore.
Black eyes stared at Sakura with an excruciating intensity, and she could only shiver – a mixture of cold and fear – under Itachi's unbearable gaze.
"Strip, Sakura," he ordered, and the threat was evident in his voice, "and do not make me repeat it again."
Sakura was still stunned, unable to speak or react to the cold, brazen order she'd just received. She was horrified at the thought of the incoming trauma, slowly shaking her head side to side in disbelief, as if she were having a nightmare and were trying to wake up.
She lowered her head, refusing to meet his cold, dead-like eyes. She was aware of the danger Itachi's command represented, and an order, such as this one, could likely – if not only – lead to an unspeakable situation that would entail an immeasurable, irreversible damage that Sakura knew she had no structure to take.
"Please, don't," she managed to say between sobs. Her voice was so low and broken that Itachi could barely hear it. "I… I—"
"If you don't take them off," he began, interrupting her as he glanced down at her clothes, "I'll do it myself."
Sakura trembled, incapable of standing the Uchiha's piercing glare any longer. She was in shock, frozen, and her body refused to receive any command – even if it was to defend herself. Tears steadily flowed down her cheeks, and her choked sobs increased as she started to cry loud and openly.
"I… I ca-can't," she whimpered, coughing mid tears. "Please, please… don't do anything to me."
No matter how much she was mentally telling herself to just obey – to spare herself any potential aggression –, her body simply didn't move. It couldn't. It was impossible for her to willingly take participation on her own assault. She couldn't bring herself to undress for him just because he told her to.
Itachi's patience had reached its limit, though. He let go of her arms with a harsh shove, and suddenly Sakura's scream echoed through the small bathroom as Itachi's hands tore through her tube top, revealing her perky, small breast to his famished eyes.
The violence seemed to bring her back to her senses, and she quickly tried to cover herself with her arms, thrashing against him as he dug his fingers into her skirt with destructive strength.
"No! D-don't—" she shrieked, nearly dizzy out of panic when she heard the sound of the synthetic fibers from her skirt being ripped apart as Itachi deprived her body from the last piece of fabric that covered what little she had left of her dignity.
Now, Sakura was rendered completely naked in front of the deranged, unstable madman Uchiha Itachi had shown to be, and in a futile attempt to hide herself, she shrank into the corner of the wall, hugging her chest to her legs and defensively locking her arms tight around her lower limbs.
Itachi eyed her with contempt, thinking how she looked so pathetic curling around herself like a wounded animal. "Get up," he commanded in a dry tone.
There was no response – physical or verbal – from the girl shaking on the floor. Sakura just stood there, with trembling jaw and chattering teeth.
He didn't wait any longer, he grabbed her by the forearms, hard, adding more damage to the already bruised area, and pulled her up. "When I give you an order, you comply immediately, understand?" He shoved her against the cold wall, holding each of her arms up to her side.
She barely registered the icy stone against her bare back, being too caught up on how close he was to her naked body – and just how vulnerable she was.
"Say you understand!" He squeezed her forearms harder, the gross pressure almost too much to bear, and Sakura gasped at the blunt pain, squirming in anguish and fear.
"I un—I understand!" she replied, nodding her head in agreement. Her legs shook so much that if Itachi hadn't been pinning her to the wall, her knees would have failed her, and she would've fallen to the ground.
"I'm sick of your stalling. Get in the fucking tub, now."
Sakura looked over to the large, rectangular tub-shower and obeyed as soon as he freed her arms from his grasp, unsteadily making her way to it. She didn't want to have that monster touching her any longer now that she had no clothes on – she didn't want him touching her at all –, and she most certainly didn't want him as close to her as he was a few seconds ago.
She opened the glass door and promptly stepped in. Although shivering from the contact with the cool iron material, she forced herself to sit down, where she could resume her previous protective position, hugging her legs to her body and lowering her head until it rested over her knees. She didn't want to look at his face – too scared of what she might see.
Sakura flinched when she heard Itachi's footsteps as he approached her, and her heartbeat raced in both fear and apprehension. She heard the faucets being turned, and she jolted as soon as the shower and the tub's jets spilled cold water over her. She nearly got up to escape the chilly water, but she stopped herself and decided that enduring it for a while was better than getting up naked in front of Itachi.
While initially uncomfortable, Sakura was briefly grateful at how quickly the cold water warmed up. Although the tub was half filled with steamy-hot water, immersing her in a pleasant feeling, it was still impossible for her to relax and let her guard down. She didn't look directly at Itachi, but she cautiously watched him out of the corner of her eyes, observing how he took three bottles and a loofah from the cabinet under the sink.
He walked over to her, setting the bottles on the edge of the tub and tossed the loofah on Sakura's face. "Wash yourself."
She breathed in deeply, thankful that the flowing water masked the sound of her sobs and reached for one of the bottles. She poured the liquid soap onto the loofah and began washing herself.
"Sakura," Itachi called, and it took the girl a few seconds to finally look at him, eye to eye.
His eyes seemed lifeless, and his face was expressionless. Whatever thoughts crossed his mind, he made no comment on it. So far, he didn't show any sign of malice – or pity, for that matter. He was just plainly unreadable. Sakura couldn't decipher what he was thinking about, and it scared her in a surreal way.
"Y-yes?"
"Stand. Wash yourself properly," he answered.
Sakura stared at him with incredulous eyes and mouth slightly agape.
She gulped hard, feeling a knot forming on her throat, and slowly got to her feet – afraid of what he would do next if she refused to.
Her body was stiff, and even though the hot water cascaded over her, naked under the depreciative eyes of her captor, she had never felt so cold in her whole life.
Cold, fear and shame.
She felt the whole combo, and she just wished she could disappear from the world, that she could simply cease to exist, so that there would be nothing left of her – nothing left of Haruno Sakura.
She blinked a few times, sobbing as her tears fell incessantly.
"I… I—maybe… you could… turn a little?" she asked softly, almost in a whisper, shaking in trepidation.
Itachi didn't bother an answer to her stupid request. He just continued to glare at her.
Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, she spoke again, "I d-did everything you told me to…"
"Yes," he confirmed, "so?"
"'So'?" Sakura frowned, taking her arms up to cover herself. "'So' that it wouldn't hurt you t-to… to… r-reward me!" She already let the anger, previously veiled, show in her voice. "W-why do you need to watch this too?" she asked in honest indignant innocence.
"Hm?" He narrowed his eyes at her. He knew well what she meant by asking for a 'reward'. She simply wanted a bit of privacy as an incentive after all the humiliation he put her through.
However, he chose to distort what she said – as good maniac would – for his own benefit. "So, you want a… reward, is that it?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow, and although there was malice behind his question, his tone was serious and frightening.
His question sent shivers down the girl's spine as she immediately realized what he meant. Too scared to provoke any unwanted reaction from him, she looked down at herself, still covering her body, and limited herself to silence. Arguing with him would take her nowhere. She could be right a thousand times, yet he would always win – and she knew it.
"Sakura-chan," he spat her name with mockery as he made his way to her, thrilled by seeing her flinch at the proximity, and grabbed her by the jaw, forcing her to turn her head and look him in the eyes, "do you want a reward?" he repeated, a dark tone adorning his husky voice.
"N-no… no! I'm so-sorry!" she answered, trying to turn her face away, although he held it tightly. "That—it's… it's not necessary!"
"Sorry for what?" He dug his fingers into her bone, watching as tears poured from her eyes.
"I'm sorry for… for asking! I'm sorry for asking!"
He was close, too close – dangerously close, Sakura decided. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, and she couldn't help the shudder from her body. She needed him to step away from her.
Itachi tightened his grip, eliciting a pained groan from the girl. His vicious grip was hurting her, and he was loving the small sounds she made as he pressed her jaw even harder.
"Please! You're hu-hurting me!" she whimpered timidly, resisting the urge to stop covering herself to try to pry his hand away from her jaw.
He slid down his hand a little, stopping around Sakura's neck, and squeezed it – not to choke her, but to scare her. His forearm brushed against her semi-covered chest, and the skin-to-skin contact while she was so exposed made her gasp, widening her eyes in consuming dread.
She didn't need to say anything. Itachi knew well what was it that she projected and most feared that he would do to her, and for that very reason, he was so inclined to explore any and every possibility that would make her think he would hurt her – especially because he would hurt her. Just not before playing with her, of course.
"You know, there are many ways to hurt you, Sakura," he whispered in her ear, making her wince at the closeness. "This," he gave her neck another squeeze, "isn't the most interesting one."
He let go of her neck and slid his hand past her arms over her chest, stopping over her abdomen, where he brushed the delicate, wet skin with his fingers, feeling as she sobbed and quivered under his unwanted touch.
"Wash yourself," he gave her a disturbing, sly smile, "or would you rather have me do it?"
Itachi stopped touching her, and took a few steps back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the bathroom wall, watching the scene as he delighted in the girl's misery.
Sakura bent a little, trying to do it in a position where it would give Itachi the least amount of vision, and reached for one of the hair products as she still tried to cover herself with her other arm.
"Do not cover yourself," he said.
It took Sakura a moment to collect her thoughts, seemingly dazed at his depravity. She looked down, defeated, and complied, slowly uncovering herself as she fought the instinct to protect her body from him.
"Turn to me," he commanded again.
Sakura sobbed loud in response. "Please… stop."
"Sakura, turn to me, and quit begging," Itachi spoke bluntly, his voice was harsh and hoarse, "that is, unless you want me to give you an actual reason to do it."
She took her hands to her face, trying to muffle some of her loud sobs, and reluctantly turned, as slow as she could, trying to delay the inevitable.
"So?" He quirked his head in interest. "Do you?"
"Wha-what?" she asked, confused, beginning to unconsciously move her arms to cover her body.
"Do you want me to give you a reason to beg?"
His insinuating question startled her, and she quickly lowered her arms.
"No… no. I… I don't," she mumbled in response.
"Then shut up and bathe."
Now, Sakura was facing him, but she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes. Not before, and especially not now that she was completely stripped in front of him – subjected to his sick idea of amusement.
With trembling hands, she reached for the shampoo bottle and applied the product onto her humid hair. Her movements were rough and fast – trying to get it over with as fast as she could –, creating a thick layer of foam that dripped down from her head to her body, catching the attentive eyes of Itachi.
She moved under the falling water, and as she rinsed her hair, she closed her eyes, trying to pretend Itachi wasn't there, watching her with hawk eyes. She imagined that she was all alone – and peacefully so – in the safety of her house, and that she would finish showering and leave her room to the pleasant smell of her aunt's famous cherry pie that would be waiting, on the kitchen island, to be eaten by her while she chatted with Ino over the phone, comfortably wrapped in her bathrobe as she waited for herself to air dry.
The thought brought a faint smile to her sad face as she let herself get too carried away by her fantasy. Still, upon opening her eyes, she was suddenly struck by her cruel reality when she saw Itachi still standing there, leaned against the wall – his eyes set to her bare breasts with a petrifying, unbearable intensity.
She flinched, wishing desperately to cover herself. Itachi's previous indifferent expression wasn't gone, but something in his eyes changed – they were strangely lecherous.
He carefully watched the frantic rise and fall of her chest, indicating that she was breathing hardly, probably out of fear. He presumed it was his fault – that he was causing her panic –, and he loved the idea that he could inflict such torment on her.
The sight brought a lot of ideas to his mind, and he couldn't wait to put them into practice. There was still so much to learn about her. He wanted to know her secrets – if she even had any, really – and her every weakness. He wanted to explore the depths of her worst fears, and most importantly, he wanted to know what was there in her to break and how many different means he could use to achieve that.
Whilst Sakura proceeded to awkwardly apply conditioner to the thin strands of her pink hair, Itachi still had his eyes dead set on her breasts, studying how soft, yet firm they appeared to be. He pondered on what they would feel like in his rough hands, and how badly he wanted to cup them, to feel them up – to feel her up, entirely.
Itachi wouldn't do anything now, but it didn't mean he couldn't torture her with the idea of a forthcoming aggression - a sexual one, no less. He wanted to let the prospection of him violating her haunt her - every minute, every second. He wanted to feed and tend that growing fear inside of her. He would let it eat at her slowly – a small form of payback that he'd get to enjoy for her little misdemeanor with Deidara at Temari's party, and, of course, how much she'd already irritated him by refusing to comply immediately to his orders.
Her reluctance in complying had ruined the fun of forcing her to strip in front of him since he had to take matters into his own hands – literally – and tear the clothes off her body.
Resourceful as he was, though, he still had a lot of ideas of entertainment, and he'd not waste them – especially when her body so desperately called for him, glistening from the water and the rinsed products of her hair that slid all the way down her figure to the drain.
As he watched Sakura rinse the last bit of conditioner from her hair, he spoke again, "Soap up."
His voiced seemed to startle her, and she looked at him for a second before proceeding to pour the liquid soap onto herself.
Sakura began on her arms and proceeded to her legs, visibly avoiding her chest and nether areas. She mechanically scrubbed the loofah against her skin, hard and quick, unbothered by the fact that she wasn't cleaning herself properly, just trying to get it done as soon as possible and get the hell out of that bathroom.
"T-there, done," Sakura spoke.
Itachi remained unmoved, his face blank. "You didn't wash your chest," he looked down towards her pelvis, "or between your legs."
"I… I don't—I…" she stuttered, seemingly out of breath.
He watched amused as Sakura stammered in panic. "Do it. Slowly."
She thought of protesting but decided against it, too terrified of what he may do. Sobbing, she poured the soap onto her hand before taking it between her legs and clumsily rubbing herself. She felt shame burn deep within her, and she couldn't hold back the crying anymore.
"Good. Now your chest," he spoke after watching her for the time he deemed necessary. "Not the loofah. Use your hands," he added when he saw her reach for the object.
As she began smearing the soap on her abdomen and chest, she kept her legs closed tight, trying her best to hide her intimacy from his prying eyes. She felt too self-conscious as she slid her hands over her breasts and soaped them by making circle motions with both hands – slow, as he'd instructed her.
Although keeping her head down, she didn't miss – through her peripheral vision – the subtle brush of hand Itachi made over the bulge on his pants. The perception of what he'd done caused an unpleasant feeling to settle on her guts, making her nauseous from both the fear and the disgust she felt for Itachi.
To face the reaction that her nudity and forced touching were causing on him was terrifying. The fear of the possibility of him acting on his obvious lust – and its implications – clouded her mind, making her freeze, both arms rigid as they slowly wrapped themselves around her in defense.
"Sakura," he called in a warning.
"I-it's… I… I'm finished…" she spoke between sobs, her voice broken and small.
Itachi was silent for a while, watching her warily. He eyed her up and down, with no intention of hiding what he wanted.
"Turn around," he instructed.
She could barely function, too shaken and lightheaded after realizing how he was, indeed, turned-on by what he was forcing her to do. This wasn't "showering". It was a less evident mean of making her touch herself in front of him – to humiliate her, to objectify her.
Upon seeing her lack of movement, Itachi moved away from the wall he was previously watching her from, and Sakura jolted, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. He didn't come to her though, he simply stood still. That movement – that small gesture – was a threat, and she knew it well.
He stood tall and imposing, a few feet away from the tub-shower, and Sakura quickly turned her head away, breaking eye contact and doing what he had ordered her to as she slowly turned her back to him.
Sakura felt on the verge of passing out. That look in his eyes – that unsettling, problematic gaze – had deeply disturbed her. She knew what it meant. She had never really received it from someone before, but she knew what it stood for, and now, turning her back to him made her feel like a clueless gazelle turning its back to a famished lion that was so ready to feast on her.
When she heard his steps behind her, closing in, she didn't need to fight off any urge of self-defense because her body simply stood still, motionless. She couldn't move, too scared that any action from her might incite violence from him.
When she heard his steps behind her, closing in, she stood completely still, petrified. She couldn't move, too scared that any action from her might incite violence from him.
He stopped right behind her, his head down as he looked at her stiff body. He took a few seconds, savoring the girl's clear shocked state, before he brushed his fingers on her middle back, feeling as she winced away from the touch. "Don't forget to scrub your back and your ass," he mentioned vaguely, holding back an evil grin. "Though, I must admit, I'm very tempted to do it myself."
Sakura's legs shook, losing all the strength in them. She felt dizzy, and her vision blackened for a few seconds as she slumped down the tub, crying uncontrollably.
"P-please, do-don't! Don't… I don't—just stop…" she choked mid-sentence.
Itachi gave her not even a second to recover before violently pulling her up by her hair. Sakura screamed at the aggression, squirming weakly as she used both hands to try to unravel the strands of her hair from between his fingers.
"I'm fucking sick of your hysteria." Still maintaining a grip on her hair, he latched his other hand on her waist to hold her steady.
Naturally, the direct contact only furthered Sakura's reaction, and her increased struggle quickly brought up Itachi's foul mood.
He bent her down, pouring the soap onto her back while she cried out as if he'd just dropped acid on her, and smeared the sticky liquid all over the expanse of her back, watching how she thrashed violently in response to his touch.
"N-no—don't! S-stop!" she begged, trying to pry his hands away from her.
Suddenly, Itachi let go off her, and she fell again, hitting her forehead on the edge of the tub. "Get. Up." His voice was harsh and strong, and even in her dazed state, Sakura tried to oblige immediately.
He didn't care her head was bleeding or that she was barely conscious after her fall and her apparent anxiety attack. Dealing with her took a lot more patience – which he already lacked – and willpower to control himself than he first thought it would, and right now, he just wanted her to shup the fuck up and put on a little show for him.
He backed away from her and resumed his place, leaning on the wall, and silently watched as Sakura stood up wobbly, touching her bleeding forehead. She went under the pouring water and allowed it to rinse the blood away before she began soaping her back.
Itachi contemplated her ass as the soap trickled down between her buttocks, and he felt his dick harden under his trousers.
Like her breasts, her ass was small, but plump, smooth, and round – flawless even, he'd dare to say. He couldn't wait to clutch them in his hands until he left reddish fingerprints on the fair, impeccable skin of her bottom – to squeeze them so hard that he would make her cry from the pain and beg him to stop.
Itachi shamelessly rubbed his erection through the fabric of his pants as he fantasized about touching her, feeling her – hurting her. His breathing picked up as he saw her hands involve her each of her bottom's globes, rubbing the soap between them. It took him all his strength and some more to restrain from ruthlessly fucking her right then and there, in that bathtub.
Sakura cried quietly, feeling her head throb in pain. She couldn't see Itachi, but his mere presence was enough to cause her a continuous, disgusting sense of violation that she was dying to end.
She went underneath the water and washed off the remaining soap from her body before turning off the shower and remaining frozen still and small. "I'm f-finished," she mumbled.
Itachi watched her rigid figure for a few seconds before speaking, "Wait there."
He left, and Sakura turned around slowly to check if he was really gone. Once she confirmed his absence, she allowed herself to break down in tears and loud sobs, hyperventilating as she slowly slid down to the bathtub floor. It was a small relief not to be at Itachi's presence and to be able to cry as loud as she needed to – which she was terrified of doing in front of him after he pulled her hair and touched her when she was so exposed and helpless.
Sakura jumped to her feet when she heard the door creaking, trying to ready herself for whatever new form of torture that sick bastard could come up with.
Itachi came back with a towel and a set of clothes on his hands. "Dry yourself." He tossed the towel to Sakura, and she caught it nearly desperate.
She wrapped the towel around herself, tapping the cheap fabric against her body to dry as much as she possibly could without needing to be naked in front of him any longer.
It took her less than ten seconds to finish. Her skin was still damp, but she didn't mind. She just wanted to get dressed soon, so she stepped out of the bathtub, and quietly spoke, "I'm done."
He stared at her with a cold, superior look, that she refused to meet, keeping her head down, trying to hide her shame. Itachi took it as a sign of submission, and he liked it. That's how he wanted her to behave – head down and compliant.
"I don't think you are," he said, ripping the towel away from her shivering body. "Do it properly."
Sakura closed her eyes tightly, allowing the tears to flow. She reached, trembling, for the tower in his hand. She tried to pull the fabric, but Itachi held it in a tight grip.
He said nothing, and neither did she – she wouldn't dare to –, but she timidly looked up at him in confusion, as if waiting for instruction, afraid of making any assumption that could render a punishment.
To endure his gaze was absurdly hard, and she failed after three seconds, lowering her head again as she swallowed hard. The doubt and anticipation were eating at her, and Itachi marveled upon hearing how heavy her breathing was becoming.
"Do I make you nervous, Sakura?" he asked nonchalantly, watching her shrink in fear as he got closer to her.
"N-no… no—w-what?" She shook her head in denial, scared and unsure of what he wanted to hear. Perhaps she'd given the wrong answer. Perhaps he wanted her to say 'yes'. "You—of… of course not!" In all honesty, she wasn't even sure why she bothered lying. He had to be an imbecile if he couldn't see how much he terrified her.
"Look at me when I speak to you," he told her, pinching her chin, and tilting her head up.
"I'm… I'm sorry," she replied, looking back into his eyes. It was torture to force herself to speak in response to him.
He narrowed his eyes, watching the stream of tears running down her naturally flushed cheeks. He liked the sight of it. He thought she was pathetic, yes, but still undeniably beautiful – especially when she cried.
He brought the towel to her damp face, and gently tapped the cloth against her, giving extra attention to her eyes and cheeks. He lowered the fabric to her neck, brushing it softly as he dried the area before proceeding to her clavicle. He looked down away from her teary green eyes, observing the droplets of water slid from her wet hair to her nude body.
Sakura shivered in front of him, a terrible sensation growing in the pit of her stomach – as if she were about to throw up. Her crying was quiet, nearly imperceptible if it wasn't for the convulsive catching of breath she was doing.
She balled her hands in fists, trying to regain some strength, under the impression that, again, her legs were about to give in at any moment.
Itachi pressed the towel harder a few inches above her breasts, and Sakura stiffened as she tried to bear the weight of his invasive stare and the pressure of his touch – even if just through the thin fabric on his hand.
Trying to create some space between them, Sakura instinctively stepped back. "M-may I?" she asked, shy and fearful. "I'll… do it right this time."
He moved his eyes up from her body to her face, and in silence he seemed to consider her request as he studied her frightened expression. He extended his hand to her, as if offering the towel, and when she reached to pick it up, he purposely dropped it on the floor.
"Pick it up," he commanded.
It took Sakura a few seconds to process what happened, and without questioning, though burning with hate, she bent down and retrieved the towel as Itachi scrupulously watched her.
She began drying herself, and without any further instructions from him, Sakura took it upon herself to set the pace – rubbing the towel all over her body as fast as she could.
Sakura finished drying and with both hands quietly held the towel tightly to her body, as if it were a shield – something, anything, to protect her of him.
Itachi observed her shrunken form for a couple of seconds before he unfolded the clothes in his arms and ripped the price tag off them.
She accepted the clothes when Itachi handed them to her, and looked through the garments, frowning in confusion, as if something was missing.
"T-there… there is no… underwear?" she questioned in low tone and shaky voice.
"You don't need one," he answered bluntly, looking down at her in mild disgust, "seeing as you weren't wearing any before."
Sakura gapped, her eyes widened in bewilderment and indignation. "Bu-but… that's—"
"You won't be needing any later, either way," he closed in on her again, "so get dressed, before I change my mind about you wearing clothes at all." He ripped the towel away from her hand, and she recoiled from his sudden movement.
The dark meaning behind Itachi's words had not gone unnoticed by Sakura, and its powerful implication began swiftly affecting her coordination and line of thought.
In her muzzy state, she struggled to put on the black shorts, losing her balance and tripping when she lifted her right leg up.
Surprisingly, Itachi caught her before she met the floor, and helped her back on her feet as he gave her a disdainful look.
She fought back the urge of pushing him away and gave him an airy apology before dressing the final piece of her outfit – a tank top matching the color of her shorts. Then, she lifted her head, trying to retain what little dignity she had left, though she still refused to look him in the eye.
The tank top clung uncomfortably to her body, perfectly outlining the shape of her breasts and nipples. She felt bothered by the lack of a bandeau to cover her chest – the feeling intensifying as she realized how Itachi stared at them –, but she chose not to complain.
She didn't wish to irritate him, after all, he'd allowed her to dress when he could've simply left her in a towel or, at the worst possible outcome, completely naked. She was grateful he didn't, but she refused to thank him.
He was repulsive and didn't deserve a 'thank you'.
"Black suits your fair complexion," he mentioned, musing on what she would look like with her skin covered in red, purple, and blue.
Sakura shrugged timidly, not really interested in anything he had to say.
"It appears you really are ungrateful," he taunted, picking up the remains of her tattered clothes from the floor. "When someone gifts you something, you thank them."
She looked at him – because she knew he'd want her to – in disbelief. Was he talking about the clothes that he probably shoplifted for her – and that looked a lot more like pajamas than a common outfit? Was he even serious?
She stared blankly at him, still no 'thanks' said.
He wouldn't have to get anything to her if he hadn't kidnapped her in the first place. She knew it wasn't time to give him an attitude – and she was too scared to do it –, but she was also not about to thank him for doing the basic of what was expected from him after he abducted her and destroyed her clothes.
Itachi narrowed his eyes at her lack of response but said nothing. He gestured for her to leave the bathroom, and she immediately obeyed.
He followed her, locking the door when he left.
Sakura frowned. "Uh, you won't… leave it open?"
"No."
Again, she didn't protest, currently without the energy to deal with something that – in comparison to his previous subtle threat – seemed so trivial.
Itachi made his way to the table and looked at the plate of food he'd brought to her earlier, realizing it was untouched. "Is the food not to your liking?" he asked, and Sakura felt the mockery in his voice.
"Uhm, n-no." She silently took a sit on the wooden stool. "I—I mean… that's not it. T-that's not what I meant… I just," she inhaled deeply, feeling breathless, "wasn't… hungry."
"How interesting," he commented, "I remember you specifically say, 'I'm hungry'."
Sakura looked down, slightly taken aback. She didn't remember that. She didn't remember anything else at the moment. Just his words resounding in her head, 'You won't be needing any later.'
He didn't seem bothered that she was speechless – on the contrary, he seemed satisfied.
"I don't appreciate being lied to, Sakura," he spoke again, and Sakura shrunk in trepidation.
Perfect. Another reason for him to harass her. She would've rolled her eyes at him if she wasn't dead scared of the man.
"I'm sorry." She wasn't even sure how many times she had apologized just in the past hours, but she was positive it had to have been at least a dozen times. "I didn't… like the food."
"I know," he mentioned, turning his back to her as he prepared to leave. "I'll be back later and bring you something to eat."
Sakura twirled her fingers anxiously, and mustered the courage to ask, "C-can you… tell me what time it is?"
He looked back at her through his shoulders.
"Please?" she added.
Now, he was fully turned to her, watching her down with superiority. "Why do you care?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"I lost track of… of time since I got here," she answered honestly. "So, I wondered—"
"Wondered how long you've been gone?" he interrupted her. "If it was long enough for anyone to miss you? If they were searching for you already?" He wanted to laugh at her stupidity, but he kept his composure.
Itachi's questions were oppressing, even if he made no offense at all.
"Is that it?" he asked again.
Sakura shook her head positively, trying to hide her teary eyes.
"It's past noon, obviously—how else would I have bought you these," he pointed at her clothes, "and no, no one is looking for you. No one will look for you because no one cares that you're gone."
The tears she so furiously tried to hold back spilled down her cheeks. She wanted to say something back – to tell him he was wrong – but she couldn't bring her mouth to move. She wasn't a fool, she knew what he was trying to do, and yet, as much as she tried, she couldn't help the surge of anger she felt.
She couldn't verbally oppose to his claim unless she wanted another probable slap to the face, so she did the only thing she could; she frowned, eyes narrowed as the tears kept streaming, and the bridge of her nose slightly wrinkled as she gave him her most hateful look, hoping that it could somehow reach him even if her thoughts of loathe weren't allowed to be made verbal.
Itachi showed no emotion to that, seemingly unfazed by her silent revolt. He looks her up and down, as if evaluating her. "I imagine you to have a… rather vast, broad experience, taking it that you're clearly not as demure as you enjoy playing out to be," he derided, and Sakura knew that he was grumbling about what happened at the party, again. "So, I expect you to show your skills when you service me tonight," he turned, making his way to the door, "and I recommend you save that anger and those tears… you will need them."
"W-what?" Sakura choked mid weep, watching through blurred eyes as Itachi slammed the door shut and systematically locked it, choosing to pay her no heed.
She imagined that being alone – away from him, at least – would feel better, would grant her some peace, even if just remotely, but the silence and isolation quickly became unbearable.
It felt like vacuum.
It was as if there were nothing else there. Nothing except herself, on an empty, dark room – even though the light was left on. Her mind destroyed everything else around her, and she could no longer see anything but blankness.
She nervously twiddled her fingers in disquiet, feeling as her headache gradually escalated, throbbing as result of the dilation of the blood vessels around her head.
Sakura heard nothing – nothing but the deafening sound of Itachi's voice. His words echoed thorough the hollow place, repeating his explicit threat to her. It was inexplicable and strange, but she felt as if he were right behind her, mocking her – whispering his perversions into her ear.
His voice was hoarse and loud, and it made her head pound harder. Her shoulders contracted, and muscles stiffed from tension. It must've been his heavy hands, pressing down hard against her – that or her body neurologically reacting to the stress Itachi had induced.
She shook her head, shuddering, and looked behind over her shoulders, as if just to make sure he wasn't there, touching her. She sighed in relief at the confirmation. But of course, he wasn't there. It would be impossible, after all, she'd seen him leave.
Her crying had ceased but it gave way to a heavy breathing – her body's need for oxygen increasing as her heart palpitated, pumping blood faster through her form. Breathing in deep, she felt a painful tightness in the muscled organ beneath her chest, and she reached for her own throat, feeling a smothering strain in it.
'Sakura…'
She jolted, yelping, and suddenly, as if she'd be awoken, there was a world around her again. There was light, color, furniture, and smell – of mold and humidity.
She looked at her surroundings again, and as to be expected, no sign of Itachi.
Sakura knew what was happening; fear was taking its toll on her – playing with her mind.
As much as she didn't want to think of what Itachi said – and what he possibly planned to do to her –, it was inevitable. Trying to come up with ideas for why he had abducted her was a grim road, especially because he had made it pretty clear why.
He obviously didn't want her dead – if he did, he wouldn't have bothered trying to feed her or having her bathed and clothed. So, naturally, the only thing she could guess from it was that she was meant to serve a very vile purpose for him – after all, he did say she would "service him".
How, though?
How was she to service him? Perhaps by being physically tortured by him for his sadistic gratification? What means would he use to do it? Would he cut into her? Mutilate her? Hit her until she was all kinds of purple and red?
No, of course, not.
Obviously, she wouldn't put it past him to find amusement in physically assaulting her, but she couldn't keep pretending that she didn't have the faintest idea of what he wanted from her – even if it terrified her to have to face it.
Itachi hadn't brought her here to spend resources at the exchange of nothing.
It was in sheer horror that she came to realize – no, not to realize but to finally acknowledge and admit – the thing she was so furiously trying to bury in the back of her mind.
He would rape her.
Sakura gasped, jumping off the stool and momentarily interrupting her gruesome train of thoughts. She brushed the back of her forearm against her damp forehead, wiping away the newly formed beads of sweat. She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head as if she were trying to wake up from a terrifying nightmare.
Her stomach was in knots. She felt suddenly nauseous again, and she couldn't help the bile rising, threatening to spill out of her mouth, as all those overwhelming feelings bloomed inside of her.
What was her to do?
She bit down the tip of her finger – an awful habit she took after her aunt –, pacing back and forth, with quick, short steps, as she repeated that hideous word in her head, unable to shake off the thoughts about all the vile ways he could find to violate her.
Itachi would rape her.
He would rape her and then he would leave her body spoiled and sprawled for her family and friends to find – perhaps even in scattered, mangled little pieces. And if there really were an afterlife, Sakura was sure the humiliation and inhumanity of the act would find a way to reach her even there.
Too immersed in her ominous reflections, she was only brought back to her senses when she bit down harder, drawing blood to the surface of her finger. She felt the mild taste of iron and salt flood her mouth and it seemed to give her a bitter perspective of what was to come.
Sakura clawed at her own head, feeling on the verge of losing control – of both her mind and body. She felt her eyes burn from the fresh tears springing from her lacrimal punctum, her mouth became surprisingly dry, and the inside of her nostrils burned as she tried to breathe in the chilly air.
"Think, Sakura… think…," she told herself, trying to find any rational thought in the midst of the many degenerate ideas going through her mind – product of the fear Itachi had inflicted.
She groaned loud in frustration, unable to calm herself or concentrate in her own survival instead of the affliction she knew she was to suffer.
The pain in her chest increased as the time went by – her heart thundering to pump blood faster to her brain and body –, and the trembling of her limbs progressively got worse as her muscles primed to act. Her bath seemed to have been a waste; her skin was now soaked in sweat. Her face was flushed and puffy, and her eyes were wide with its pupils dilated.
Sakura knew what this reaction was – she'd read about it. This was a fight or flee moment, and her brain and body were preparing her for it. Although, since she had nowhere to really run to, there was only one option available, and unfortunately, that adrenaline rush combined with the powerful anxiety attack she was having – triggered by the devastating reality she would inevitably face – didn't exactly serve its purpose.
It gave her nothing but a sensation of death.
The feeling of air lacking – even though her lungs were being fed oxygen constantly – made her lightheaded as she kept imagining how she'd pass out at any moment and become vulnerable to Itachi's wickedness – not that she wasn't already, but at least conscious, she could try to defend herself.
To defend herself…
"That's it," she whispered through ragged breaths, as if she'd just told someone a secret.
Her survival instinct manifested within her, and scared or not, Sakura knew she needed to do something to prevent that from happening to her – to preserve her dignity.
What, though?
She knew she had not the strength or size to fight Itachi on her own. He was a lot bigger and stronger than her, and it would likely take him no effort to dominate her. The only way she would have any chance to defend herself was if she managed to find something to use against him.
Sakura looked around urgently, searching for any object she could use as a weapon. She thoroughly scanned through the shelves of the bookcase she'd spotted before, finding nothing but dust and spider webs. Whatever had they held before, Itachi made sure to completely remove everything from within her reach.
She made her way through the room, a little fidgety, to the cabinets near the door, and opened them. They were empty as well, and she felt her frustration beginning to build up more and more inside of her. How was it possible that he hadn't missed a single thing that she could possibly hurt him with?
Well, there was still the wooden stool, of course. Though she hardly imagined it would inflict any real damage to him or that she'd be capable to even use it at all – the object was big, and Itachi would probably be able to see it coming from a mile away.
She needed something small, sharp, or pointed. Something she could hide from his eyes, if needed.
Her eyes roamed the place one last time before resting its sight leisurely over the silver tray on the table. She blinked, as if registering the contents on it, and the tense features on her face seemed to soften up a little.
She spotted the glass – the one from where she'd drank the juice before – and she felt a surge of fleeting relief, her eyes widening in amazement. She wanted to chuckle at his negligence. He, that had been nothing but careful up until now, left a glass to her disposition.
Sakura walked over to the old table and took the glass in her hand. She wasn't entirely sure Itachi had left already, and she couldn't risk him overhearing her break it, so she decided to wait for a few more minutes until she figured he'd already left. Only then she threw the glass on the floor, watching as it shattered in several pieces – most in small sizes and one or two large enough for her to use.
With gleamed, hopeful eyes, she crouched and picked up the biggest shard of glass she found smashed on the floor.
She contemplated the piece with distressed realization. She'd never harmed another human being before. She'd never harmed any living thing, actually. She knew she needed preparation, but she couldn't really push herself to consider what would take her to protect herself.
Would she really have the guts to hurt someone – even if that someone were a degenerate like Uchiha Itachi? Well, she needed to. It was self-defense and she was completely within her rights. She wouldn't do it out of pleasure or fun – although she had to admit that the idea of inflicting pain on him didn't exactly upset her.
It did confuse her, though.
Sakura was never a violent person – and she never thought she'd ever need to resort to that –, but all it took her to make her choice was to remember Itachi's threat. It had a very distinct, sexual, and predatory meaning, and she'd rather die – or kill – than let something like that happen to her.
She headed for the mattress on the floor and sat down on it. Unable to push her reverie aside, she indulged in it completely, waiting for Itachi's return.
When it had passed a little over an hour since Itachi left, and there was still no sign of him, Sakura allowed herself to lay down. Despite her fear, her anger, and her stress, it didn't take long for her to fall asleep – she was still tired, and all the stress she'd went through so far had worn her out.
In her slumber, her body was still strained and rigid, for her mind did not allow her to truly rest – subconsciously registering every small noise, making sure that no one but her was there –, and to her misfortune, in her dreams, Itachi was present too – haunting her, torturing her.
Had she been conscious, she'd recognize that even in her sleep, she couldn't escape him.
●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ~ஜ۩۞۩ஜ~ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ●
Another three hours had passed before the noise of Itachi's heavy footsteps against the plank boards from the stairs resounded behind the door, waking Sakura up.
She looked up, startled and still for a few seconds before her eyes widened and she jumped off the mattress, stumbling her way through the room to the table, where she tried to find a bit of support.
Itachi hadn't even entered the room and Sakura was already on the verge of panicking. She gripped the large shard of glass harder on her small hand, whimpering as she felt the stinging pain in the middle of her palm. She needed a firm grasp on it not to risk it slipping off her hand.
'…when you service me tonight…'
His words reverberated inside her head, tormenting her, daring her to fight. Her fear grew exponentially with each thudding sound of his steps, and Sakura felt as if her heart were in her mouth, pounding so hard that she could hear its rhythmic, thumping pulse in her ear – the result of the turbulent flow in her blood vessels.
'…save that anger and those tears…'
She wasn't sure – being in her appalling state – whether she was crying or not, but she could feel a lump form in her throat as she tried to swallow her saliva. Her body shook completely, and her breathing began to pick up again, so quickly that even though the oxygen filled her lungs, she felt as if she were suffocating.
'…you will need them…'
Sakura dashed to the door and pressed her back against the wall beside it, knowing that once it was opened, she'd be hidden by it. She pressed her hands tighter to her chest and shivered in anguish as she heard the sound of the key being set on the lock. When she heard the final 'click' she could swear her vision began to blacken, and her legs to falter, but she sucked in the air, and closed her eyes tightly, reopening them with invigorated will.
She shrank further into the wall as Itachi opened the door and entered the room. The adrenaline rush Sakura instantly felt was disassociating in a way. All her fears, her doubts and introspections were completely annihilated by that powerful stress response.
Itachi pushed the door behind him with a hit from the back of his foot. His hands were both occupied by a tray and as soon as the door shut, Sakura wasted no time lashing herself out on him.
Losing his balance, Itachi dropped the food tray he'd brought to her. The plate and glass made a shrilling sound as they connected with the floor, braking into several sharp pieces of glass that spread around with the spilt juice and food.
Sakura let out a grunt of pain as she stepped into some of the shattered glass as they struggled, but the pain was quickly gone, and with effort she tried to bring the shard of glass in her hand near the man's neck.
In a swift but soft movement, she managed to scrape the piece against his skin, successfully drawing blood and evoking a hiss of pain from Itachi. A confusing mix of feeling swirled inside of her and despite unable to properly process everything happing, she felt herself being driven solely by her desire to live and protect herself.
Holding firmly the shard, she desperately slammed her fist hard against Itachi, not really aiming anymore, simply desiring to harm him – incapacitate him. In a matter of seconds, the glass connected with him several times, piercing his flesh with each stab Sakura gave – painting the transparent piece in red, stained by not only Itachi's blood, but her own too.
It all happened too quickly, but unfortunately, Sakura's expectations were too high, and she wasn't strong. However big her effort and will were, Itachi didn't take long to effortlessly hold her body against his and constrict her movements. He took a hold of her wrist and he strained it so hard that, with a scream, Sakura dropped the shard of glass on the floor.
Although with no avail, Sakura struggled in his arms, trying to break free from his snake-like embrace.
Itachi narrowed his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval before shoving Sakura on the ground with violence. She screamed as she fell onto the broken glass and they dug into the skin of the palm of her hands, her thighs, and some in her bottom, through the thin cloth of her shorts.
He studied the scene before him. The floor was a mess, streaked with the slices of bacon and scrambled eggs he'd prepared for her, the fresh juice he, too, made was spilled all over, and the fine china in which he'd served her the food were completely ruined.
He kneeled down and picked up the bloodiest shard of glass – the one she'd used to hurt him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk." He clicked his tongue in annoyance before throwing the shard over his shoulder.
Itachi knew one thing from all of this. Haruno Sakura did not deserve to be treated like a fucking human. He'd went out of his way to let her bathe, get her clothes, to serve her a decent food, to allow her to use the bathroom and this is what she does? She'd basically thrown all of it on his face, and he'd make sure the little bitch would regret it.
The man fumed, nearly unable to hide his anger as he looked down at his shirt and saw it soaked in blood. He took his hand to his neck, feeling his blood ooze in a light, constant stream. "You shouldn't have done this, little girl… you just had to make this so much easier, didn't you?" He chuckled darkly, and a smirk played across his lips.
Sakura shook just upon watching him. His smirk was simply and purely perverse, evil. If one could die from remorse, Sakura was sure she'd be six feet under the ground by now.
That was it.
The fight was over, she'd lost.
She could barely think about anything other than how much she wanted to tell him she was sorry, just so she wouldn't have to put up with whatever sick punishment that degenerate man was likely planning already. She really, really wished she could apologize – even if she wasn't truly sorry for hurting him –, but she couldn't utter more than a few chocked whispers, terror fogging her mind completely.
Itachi made his way to her with slow, firm steps, torturing her as she tried to get away from him by pushing her bare feet against the floor and dragging herself further away. She cried softly from the pain she felt as the shattered glass scraped and pierced her, but it still didn't stop her from trying to create distance between them – as if it were enough to prevent him from reaching her.
Sakura uselessly raised her shaking hands in front of her face as Itachi closed in on her. The act was in vain as the punch she received passed quickly between her hands and landed directly in the middle of face, immediately knocking her out and sending her to a dreamless sleep.
Itachi heard the familiar crunch sound as blood gushed out of the girl's nostrils. He'd done this too many times when he got into fights not to know what it meant – he'd broken her nose.
He sighed in frustration as he watched Sakura's body splayed unconscious on the floor, then bent over her to pick her up.
If she wanted a punishment so bad, he'd give it to her.
●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ~ஜ۩۞۩ஜ~ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ●
Sakura woke up to the feeling of an abominable pain through her skull, and an awful, throbbing ache that radiated from her nasal bones and sinuses. She felt dizzy and confused, unable to recall what had happened.
She grunted as she tried to lift her head up and make out her surroundings despite her blurred vision and swollen eye. She felt difficulty breathing, the same suffocating feeling from before slowly crawling back to her, and when she tried to take a deep breath, she felt the pungent smell and metallic taste from the blood invade her senses as the creamy, red liquid still streamed down slowly through her nostrils and the back of her throat.
She mumbled something incoherent, and tried to move, but to her utter despair, she found herself unable to. She tried pulling her arms to finally realize they were tied up behind her back, and the same treatment was given to her legs – ropes holding them together tightly around her thighs and ankles.
It was with a shock that she came to understand her position, and as soon as it hit her, she tried to scream – only to have her voice muffled by the thick fabric covering her mouth, that was now swollen and sported a nasty cut.
Sakura tried to move again, desperate as she slowly became more conscious of what was happening, but her effort only elicited a dark, husky chuckle from Itachi.
She was positioned face down over Itachi's legs. Her abdomen effectively resting over his thighs as he sat quietly on the stool, simply watching the girl's anguish.
Sakura felt cold, so cold, and when Itachi bent over her a little to blow an icy air onto her bottom she suddenly jolted, realizing she was not only tied up and gagged, but she was also naked – on his lap, no less.
She immediately began thrashing frantically as she tried to kick with her legs and scream through the fabric of her gag.
"Shh, Sakura-chan," he called her disdainfully, his voice dark and deep. His hand gripped her pink hair hard, and he pulled her head up until her neck was strained all the way back and he touched his lips to her ear, feeling as she shuddered at the contact. "This is not what I had in mind, but I must admit… it's quite fun too."
Tears immediately covered her already impaired vision and spilled down her reddened cheeks to be soaked into the cloth over her mouth. She tried to speak through the gag, but her voice came out as an undistinguishable, choked cry.
"Hm? Did you say something?" he taunted, amused at her frantic movements as she tried to shift her body to fall on the ground and off his lap.
Sakura had never felt such fear in her life.
Now, she was indeed, completely, utterly helpless. She wanted to fight her restraints, but her body was weak. She was weak. There was simply nothing she could do but to be at this sick man's mercy.
"You must be wondering what's going to happen to you now…" he stated, placing his left hand on the middle of Sakura's back, feeling the softness of her skin as it crawled under his palm.
The only response she could give was a stifled grunt. Whatever she had to say, he didn't care.
"When a dog attacks you," he began, gripping her hair harder and pulling her head further back to an uncomfortable point that made her scream, "you put it down."
With the fabric still smothering her sounds, she tried to beg him not to hurt her, apologizing over and over, even if the sounds she made sounded like nothing but gibberish.
Itachi didn't seem to mind the girl's loud cry. In fact, he enjoyed the choked pleas she tried to make between the sobbing, crying and the cloth he used to gag her.
"I am not putting you down, Sakura," he made a pause, "but I am punishing you." He let go of her hair with a shove, and Sakura was relieved that she was able to lower her head again and rest the muscles for her neck, even if just remotely.
He watched as she quickly began struggling on his lap again, trying to make him drop her, but he effectively held her in place, chuckling to himself as he savored every second of misery he forced on the young girl.
Giving into his previous desire, he slid his right hand down over her back until he reached her buttocks and clutched the fleshy mound.
Sakura's eyes widened and she thrashed her body desperately, screaming through the gag, hearing as Itachi once again laughed at her expense.
"You see," he squeezed the flesh tighter, causing Sakura to kick with her legs and cry out again, "I'll be training you on how to behave." He crushed the meaty globe in his hand, watching as Sakura's body strained completely.
Itachi released the reddened flesh from his strong, vicious grip, bringing his hand back to her hair and pulling her head again until he could give a good look at her tear-stained face and swollen, red eyes. The semi-dry blood smeared from her nose over to the cloth and her cheeks, and he couldn't help the delicious tingle the view triggered on his groin.
He licked her cheek, and Sakura tried to pull back from him, earning another tight pull at her hair.
"I can't take this easy on you. If I don't punish you now, you'll never take my threats seriously. You'll keep misbehaving," he tugged at her hair again, hearing her mumble in response, "and I will not have that."
He scraped the palm of his hand against the small grains of glass that were spiked in Sakura's thighs, and she whined at the sharp, burning feeling it caused.
Itachi took a deep breath as he raised his hand up in the air, preparing himself for the apex of his little game.
He breathed out the air slowly, then dropped his hand, picking up speed. His palm came hard in contact with the girl's buttock, eliciting a shrill cry from her as the grains of glass dug even further into her, and defining the fair complexion of her skin with a reddish mark in the perfect shape of his large hand.
Sakura contracted her pelvis, feeling her skin on fire. She would never think a slap could sting and hurt as much as this one.
At this point, she was beyond panic, and none of her thrashing and moving was of any help as she seemed unable to get him to drop her off his lap and stop his violence.
She looked over her shoulder as she tried to speak to him – to beg him –, and her heart soared at the sight of him raising his hand again. Before she registered anything, he lowered it again.
The slap came hard, once again, and the sound it made as it connected to Sakura's ass cheek was as strident as her scream.
She felt her bottom throb from the pain – from both slaps and the shard of glass being constantly forced into her flesh with each one of them –, and Itachi watched with satisfaction as small droplets of blood surged from the pierced skin.
He pulled at her hair again and took his other hand to the fabric between the girl's lips, removing it. The sound of Sakura's crying was a lot louder than before, and she tried to take deep breaths through her mouth as she sobbed with difficulty.
"I want to hear you scream." He bent over her to whisper into her ear, smiling wickedly. "I want to see you cry."
"P-please… please! I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry!" Sakura begged between sobs.
He let go of her hair and took his hand back to her left ass cheek, pressing it harshly to cause her more pain.
"No, no, please! Please—please—please, stop!" Her voice was desperate, and it made Itachi ache with desire.
He was loving it more than he thought he would. She was so soft. She was so fucking delicious. He couldn't wait to pry her open, to explore her – to taste her. He looked at his fingers and he was dying to bury them inside of her. Actually, he was dying to bury a lot more than just his fingers inside of her.
Itachi brushed the tip of his index finger between her buttocks, feeling up its opening, and Sakura wailed like a wounded animal – as if that mere, intrusive touch had deeply injured her.
"No! D-don't! Don't! Please, I-Itachi…" she called him, "ple-please, don't—s-stop it. Just… just stop it, please!."
"I'll show you something." He chuckled, retracting his finger and hand from her as he completely brushed off her desperate pleas. He pulled from the table behind him a short wooden pole with a wide, flat part at the end of it and several holes drilled into it. "Do you know what this is?"
Sakura struggled to lift her head up enough to get a look at the object in his hand, and with cloudy vision, she nodded in confirmation. "A… a p-paddle?"
"Yes, a paddle," he answered, bringing the object to her face so she could give it a closer look. "You know, it was originally invented for the punishment of slaves as a way of causing intense pain without doing any real, permanent damage to the recipient."
The girl could only quiver at the sight of the instrument in his hand – it served obviously one and only one purpose; to cause pain. She couldn't fight the tears steadily streaming down and her hopeless sobs intensified at the thought of how that depraved man would use that thing on her.
"Eventually, though, through history, it became a normal implement for corporal punishment," he added. "It was—is—a mean to discipline misbehaving school students, or simply at home to punish little children and… teenagers." He brought the paddle to her bottom and brushed it softly – teasingly – against Sakura's rear, watching in delight as she flinched.
"No, please…" she began pleading again, "I'm so, so sorry… I s-should… I shouldn't have—"
"Shh… quiet now, Sakura…" he shushed her, raising the paddle in the air, out of her field of vision. "This will only… hurt… a lot." He brough the paddle down suddenly and it striked painfully hard against Sakura's ass, evoking a loud shriek from her.
Her body spasmed on his lap, and he could feel his skin crawl at the surge of pleasure he felt from hurting her. Itachi wasted no time, raising the paddle and striking it down onto her once again.
"P-please, s-stop! Stop!" Sakura was genuinely desperate. She couldn't think of anything else to say that wasn't a plea or an apology.
He ignored her completely, repeating the process again, except this time, he hit her in the back of her thighs, and she trembled from the pain of the grains of glass that were also carved into that area as they were pushed further into her skin.
She gave a piercing cry in response to the aggression, and she felt bile back up into her stomach and esophagus.
Sakura was sure that, at this point, if she had had anything to drink before and hadn't emptied her bladder, she'd probably be peeing herself from pain. The aggression was so forceful and strong that it highlighted the rest of the pain she felt on her whole face and skull – from the punch and her head hitting the floor when she was knocked out.
Itachi brought the paddle to her face again, displaying to her his instrument of torture. "Do you see these little wholes?" He brushed the flat end on her face as Sakura nodded her head in confirmation. "Do you know what they are for?"
"N-no," she answered shortly, knowing he expected her to.
"They are drilled into the flat area so there is less air drag when the paddle is being swinged, producing more pain when it reaches the receiver's body…" he made a pause, "…your body, Sakura."
Sakura shivered at the sight of the paddle disappearing behind her as Itachi raised it in the air before slamming it back onto her. She cried out again, and Itachi felt his cock stiff under his pants, letting out a grunt of satisfaction.
"God, please, just stop! Please, stop!" she bawled desperately. Sakura thrashed her body in rebellion, freaking out at the idea of another hit. "I… I c-can't—I can't take this!"
"You think this hurts?" Itachi halted, narrowing his eyes. "If you think this hurts, wait until I have struck you so many times that your muscles will begin to swell and strain to a point that every hit will seem intensified, and you will no longer be able to stand the impact of anything on the area… then, Sakura," he chuckled sinisterly, "only then, you'll feel a true, excruciating pain."
"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Please, I'm sorry…"
Disregarding her pathetic apology, Itachi raised the paddle and smacked it onto her, and as she howled, he repeated the aggression, striking her relentlessly over and over until Sakura shrieked so loud that the sound nearly hurt Itachi's ears.
Every hit, every cry, every plea made Itachi's cock throb harder between his thighs – aching for the quivering little girl that whined hopelessly on his lap.
He could feel his wicked desire for her burn beneath his jeans as his dick quickly became more rigid, and so could Sakura – terrified of what he could feel tempted to do and what would become of her if he decided to act on his whims.
Itachi pressed Sakura down hard against the bulge on his pants as he continued to ravish her bottom with relentless and furious hits from the wooden paddle, delighting on how she wiggled and thrashed in despair, desperately trying to gain even if just a few seconds of relief.
And as Sakura's screams continued to echo through the basement, Itachi could only think one thing; he wouldn't stop until he was sure she knew her place.
12/02/2021
A huge "Thank You!" for those of you who reviewed! I know I took too long to update, but I hope the chapter's length can make up for the time. I really appreciate your comments and PMs – to those of you who've sent it – and I swear they are always a huge boost to me!
I'd really want to know your thoughts on this chapter and even what you expect in the future – although, no, it will not change the course of the story. I want to speed things a bit in chapter four and show a little bit of how Sakura's disappearance is being taken by everyone.
I'll be honest with all you, I'm not sure when I'll be updating this again. I'll take a break from my Naruto stories and focus on the PPG ones. Who knows, though… I might always come with an update out of the blue. (This is will no longer be updated)
