Disclaimer

Neither the characters nor the story are of my property, they belong to their respective authors.

Part II - The Dare

"So. You're actually doing this?"

The party was raging on around us. The next round of beer pong had begun, crowding us away from the table, so we stood on the sidelines, amongst the crowd. I kept hearing the audio of my humiliating video playing again and again, followed by laughter. I could hear murmurs of my name, the gossip already spreading.

Ino stood behind me impatiently. I knew she was waiting for me to join her, regardless of the dare. After all, what kind of person would accept a dare like that and then actually carry through? Being Gaara's slave? Obeying his every word? It sounded ridiculous.

But I was going to do it.

Gaara's question hung between us. He looked uncertain, even a little irritated, as if he was shocked that I was lingering. I shrugged, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Uh, yeah? You dared me. What am I going to do? Laugh it off?"

"That's what I would have expected from you, yeah." There was a note of bitterness in his tone, but he chuckled softly and it disappeared. "You really think you're going to spend the night doing everything I tell you? Seriously?"

I gave him an irritated, wide-eyed expression. "Again...yeah? Unless you were just making it up to fuck with me. If you can't handle me, I'll gladly-"

"No, no," he shook his head, and his smirk seemed to shift - it became darker. Hungrier. "I can handle you." My stomach twisted weirdly at his words. Something about it excited me. It sounded like a threat. "I'm more concerned if you can handle it. I don't think you realize what you're in for."

I stepped up to him, my face inches away from his, chests almost touching. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him. "I'm not afraid of you, Gaara No Sabaku. Whatever you've got…" My eyes dragged slowly down his body, and back up again. Sizing him up, all six-foot-whatever of him. "I can take it."

His smile didn't waver. Despite what I'd said, I felt a tiny, sudden jab of fear. It was the kind of fear I encountered before watching a scary movie, or walking into a haunted maze - it was a thrill, a rush, a hit of adrenaline straight to my veins.

"If you say so, Saku," he said softly. "But you might be looking for mercy sooner than you think." He stepped back, and I finally allowed myself to breathe. "Follow me then."

Gaara's long legs carried him quickly over the lawn, back toward the house, I had to jog just to keep pace with him. Ino caught up with me, and she'd brought me another drink. Shoving it into my hands, she hooked her arm through mine and hissed, "Let's bail! We'll lay low for 10 minutes and then-"

"I'm not bailing." I took a long sip of the fruity drink she'd handed me, thankful for the liquid courage. She stopped abruptly, and her looped arm yanked me to a halt.

"You're not bailing? What the hell do you mean, you're not bailing? Sakura!" Her disbelief made me wince. How could I explain this, how could I make it make sense? "Saku, you're crazy, why would you-"

"Sakura!"

My heart stuttered. Gaara had paused outside the back door. He snapped his fingers, and pointed to the ground at his feet. "Come. Now."

I glanced back at Ino, and saw that her mouth had tightened into a thin line. "Saku," she said tensely. "Are you really…"

"Sorry, Ino, I just…" The normal, logical part of me was screaming that I wasn't about to let this weirdo treat me like a dog. But the dark, needy part of me was insisting something very different: it was telling me that Gaara's condescending tone sounded hot, and his confidence was sexy, and that running to obey his summoning would feel so good.

"Just give me a minute, okay?" I squeezed Ino's arm apologetically, handed her my drink, then turned and walked towards Gaara. I dragged my feet, just so I wouldn't seem too eager, and I could see something twitch in his jaw with every slow step I took.

I was annoying him. Good."

I folded my arms, trying to match his irritation in my expression. "Yeah? What?"

He pointed down again, with a slow sigh. "My shoelace, Sakura. Tie it."

Sure enough, his boot lacing had come undone. I was already going to be on my knees at his feet again. For a moment, I could almost smell the leather. I could almost feel it under my lips. I swallowed hard, and scoffed, "Your shoelace, really? What are you, five?"

But I knelt. There, on my knees, in the light shining out from the glass backdoors, I tied his bootlace for him. I hurried to get back up, my tongue ready with more snarky comments, but his hand on my shoulder shoved me back down.

"Being a brat doesn't change that you're still obeying me, Saku," he said softly, leaning down to bring his face close to mine. "Acting like it's such a goddamn chore for you doesn't change that you're still doing it." He smiled wickedly. "Pretending you don't like this won't make it go away. Keep it up, and you'll only manage to earn yourself a good old-fashioned attitude adjustment."

Words were lost to me for a moment. Finally, I managed, "Attitude...attitude adjustment? What the hell-"

"Keep it up and find out," he straightened, taking his hand from my shoulder, and I scrambled to my feet. "And from now on, when I give you an order, you respond with "yes, Master," understand?"

It took a great deal of self-control not to roll my eyes at him again. "You're really pushing it…" I growled. Then, when I saw his eyebrow twitch, I added sarcastically, "Master."

He shook his head. "Keep it up, Saku. I know you need some discipline in your life. You'll earn it soon enough." He entered the house, holding the door open long enough for me to slip in after him. Discipline...what the hell? I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but I was suddenly, urgently determined to find out.

Gaara got swept into a conversation with some friends of his, and I stood awkwardly behind him, trying to pretend I wasn't really with him. Ino rejoined us, but this time, with Gaara's back turned, she seized my arm and dragged me into the kitchen.

"Okay, literally, what the hell are you doing?" she said. "You don't have to do the goddamn dare, Saku. Like...I will fight him -"

"No, no, Ino, it's okay, just…" I had no doubt she would fight him, but I didn't need her to defend me like that. "Look, just...enjoy the party, okay? Hinata and Tenten are here, you could-"

"Woah, woah, hold on," her frown deepened. "Are you like...are you into this? Because literally nothing is stopping you from just not following him. He can't force you to do shit but you're, like…" She wrinkled her nose. "Forehead, if this is some weird fantasy thing…" She shook her head. "Look, I knew you were lying when you said you weren't into him. You made out with him. You were into him, okay? And that's fine, whatever, no judgement. But just like…" She lowered her voice, as if anyone could even hear us over the party's noise. "If you're trying to get with him you have to let me know. Like I think it's really weird, but...I'm not gonna cock block you."

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. I wasn't "into" in Gaara No Sabaku, that was ridiculous, that was...that was…

I sighed heavily. "You don't have to worry about me, okay? I'm just...I'm gonna try this...dare thing…"

Ino rolled her eyes, but her laughter took the edge off. "Dare thing? You mean you're going to try the whole being-his-slave thing? That's like...super kinky, ya' know?"

It was, I knew it was. Every interaction I'd had with Gaara that night had been so charged with sexual tension it was agonizing. Although, from the outside, the way we interacted with each other showed nothing but hatred. The teasing words, the humiliation, the taunting - it all added to the erotic energy building up inside me. My drive to keep escalating the situation felt desperate, and ridiculous, but I'd been given a taste of something new and I had to explore it.

"Yeah, it's...it's weird," I said. "I know. I can't...I can't really explain it."

Ino waved her hand, and handed me back the drink I'd earlier left with her. "No worries, girl. I'll keep an eye out. Text me if you need me, okay?"

She hugged me tight before she walked away. Thank God for Ino. As opinionated as she was, she kept any judgements she passed to herself. After tonight, maybe we could both have a good laugh about it. Maybe I'd file this away as just another weird experience and move on with my life as if none of it had happened. I'd forget about Gaara - forget about his orders, his cocky smile, his boots...I'd go back to just being Sakura Haruno, who had her life together, who was popular and normal and not-at-all into weird kinky sex shit.

I slipped back into the other room, but not before Gaara noticed my absence. The friends he'd been talking to had moved on, but his eyes were scanning around the room, and locked on me the moment they found me.

"Sorry," I stepped up beside him, taking a long sip on my drink. "Had to go pee."

"In the kitchen?" he said dryly. "I think you're done with that."

"Um, excuse me?" I glared at him in disbelief as he pulled my drink out of my hands, took a small sip, and tossed it in the trash. "What the fuck, dude? I wasn't finished-"

"You're finished because I say you're finished," he said softly, leaning nearer to me so I could hear him above the music and loud conversation. "I don't want you getting drunk, Saku."

"What the fuck," I stomped my foot, throwing up my arms. "Are you just trying to ruin the night for me? I can't wander around, I can't drink. Are you just trying to be a dick to me?"

"Aww, is poor little Saku bored?" He gave my chin a little bump with his knuckle, and I was tempted to snap my teeth at his hand. "Go get me a beer then."

"Ugh, fuck you!" I flipped my hair over my shoulder, and stomped my feet heavily as I took two steps back toward the kitchen - before he stopped me.

"Sakura."

I glared back at him. "What, Gaara?"

"Crawl."

I blinked rapidly. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. What?"

A slow, pleased smile spread across his face. "You heard me just fine, Sakura. Crawl. Crawl into the kitchen, get my beer, and crawl back. And remember your goddamn manners."

He couldn't be serious. He couldn't think I would actually...actually crawl… in front of all these people...he couldn't. His words from earlier echoed in my head, I know you need some discipline in your life. You'll earn it soon enough.

If I disobeyed, would I earn that discipline he mentioned?

He leaned against the wall behind him, calm, straight-faced. "I'm waiting, Saku. I'm awfully thirsty."

I marched back at him and jabbed my finger against his chest - his hard, surprisingly muscular chest. "You are crazy if you think I'm gonna crawl through this goddamn party to get you a goddamn beer, in front of all these goddamn people-"

He caught my wrist, stopping my angry jabbing. "Now, now, Sakura. You're making a scene. You're making even more people watch you. You're making it that much worse for when you do, eventually, obey."

"I'm not going to obey you, asshole-"

"Then why are you still here? I thought you could handle it?" His grip on my wrist was loose, gentle enough that I could have easily pulled away from him. I could feel the calluses on his palms, the roughness on his fingers. I could even smell him: he was sweet, like a cigar, mingled with a masculine cologne that was fresh but musky.

I was fixated on that smell. It was filling my head, intoxicating me. It made me want to get closer to him, it made me want to press my face against his chest and inhale deeply, completely envelop myself in him. But I couldn't give away how intrigued I was. I couldn't seem too eager. Just like I couldn't obey without putting up a fuss.

"I can handle it just fine," I muttered.

"Oh, is that so?" he said, his eyes narrowing. He was still so calm. His voice hadn't gone up in volume; he hadn't even changed his position from casually leaning against the wall. "I can't force you to do anything, Saku. You can easily walk away, especially since you seem to be so angry about these orders. But...you're not walking away. You're standing here, arguing with me. Throwing a tantrum. Trying to make me change my mind and take back my order. But I'm not taking it back. You're going to do it, Saku. You're going to obey, because you want to, no matter how much you try to hide it. Go - crawl and get my beer."

I grit my teeth, my hands balled into fists at my sides. Something squirmed inside me, a frightening and unexpected thing: it was that tight, tingling pleasure, the joy of being put in my place, the excitement of finding all my struggling to be absolutely useless.

I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to walk away. I felt as if I was trying to work up the courage to pierce my own ears: I knew I wanted it. I knew it was going to hurt. I just had to do it, just stab the needle through.

I'd obey. Of course I'd obey.

I got a little closer to his face. Close enough that, for a moment, my breath stuttered in my chest. But my voice was steady. "So sorry about my manners, Master. I'll go get your beer at once, Master." Sarcasm dripped from my voice. I couldn't help it, and one last sassy retort fought its way past my lips, "Oh, yeah, and fuck you, Master."

I didn't want to linger around and see what came from that last sentence. With my jaw clenched tight, I dropped to my knees, then placed my palms against the floor. So many drunk, stumbling people; I'd be lucky if I didn't get my fingers stomped on. I could imagine the weird looks I'd get, the laughter at my expense, how everyone would be looking down at me. My stomach knotted up and my pussy clenched, my arousal basking in the humiliation.

Behind me, I heard that infuriating voice speak again, "Rudeness carries consequences, Sakura. Hurry up."

I shuffled forward, tapping at people's legs to make them move for me. My short skirt wasn't ideal for crawling in: bent over on my hands and knees, the hem was tugged up high enough that anyone could easily see my ass and, if they looked close enough, they would definitely be getting a peek at my pussy too.

Consequences...discipline...I knew something had to be coming. I'd pushed and pushed, determined to see Gaara reach the edge of his patience. There was a beast in him, beyond the calm; it was vicious and dangerous and I wanted nothing more than to draw it out. I'd seen it that day he'd gotten expelled, when he'd finally pulled a knife on the assholes who had poked at him for years. That was the beast I wanted, that was the Gaara I had to experience. I couldn't fully explain the desire, not yet. But maybe once it was fulfilled, I'd understand.

I reached the cooler and knelt next to it. I was blushing, breathless, my stomach in knots. Maybe if I dunked my whole head in the cooler it would go away, or maybe it would just shock some sense into me. I plunged my hand into the cold, watery ice and pulled out a beer. The bottle was freezing cold, the glass dripping. I could hold it in my hand as I crawled...maybe grip the cap with my teeth...tuck it in my bra? How the hell was I supposed to crawl and carry his beer?

"Fuck this," I whispered, and stood up. I snatched a bottle opener from the counter, popped the cap, and took a long, much-needed drink. The cold, bitter liquid slid down my throat and soothed my tension.

He'd punish me for this. I had no doubt. Whatever "consequences" and "discipline" meant to him, I was about to find out.

You know you want it. The evil little voice chuckled in my head. He'll punish you for breaking the rules of the game, for being a bad, disobedient girl. He'll punish you in front of everyone, make you cry…

I shook myself. Chills had gone over my arms at the thought, all the muscles in my lower abdomen throbbing. My pussy was one thing - horny betraying bitch! - but now my own brain was turning against me. Thoughts of Gaara shaking his head in disappointment, calling me a bad girl, telling me to bend over his knee-

No, no, no. Stop. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts! I'd start dripping again if I wasn't careful.

Walking back to Gaara on my own two feet, instead of crawling, felt much naughtier than it should have. He was right where I'd left him, laughing over something a girl with dyed blue hair had said to him. She was pretty: shorter than me but gorgeously curvy, ripped fishnets beneath her gray plaid skirt, her breasts practically bursting out of her tight white blouse. A surprising pang of jealousy shot through me, even though she walked away as I approached.

"I thought I gave you an order, Saku," Manson said, a smile playing around his mouth as I walked up beside him. "Found your feet awfully quick."

I'd taken another swig of the beer. But as he scolded me, I smiled, brought the bottle back to my lips, and spat the mouthful of beer back in. Then I shoved it into his hands. "Oh right, sorry. I forgot about the whole "no drinking" thing. Forgot about crawling too." I shrugged. "Oopsie."

Gaara's smile seemed frozen on his face. It was unnerving, and suddenly I wondered if this was really a good idea. I was upholding my end of the dare - but only barely. How long could he possibly tolerate this from me? Would he just walk away, calling the whole thing off? Or could he actually "handle me," as he'd claimed.

Gaara took a sip of beer and my stomach turned. I'd spit in that bottle and it didn't even phase him. "Oh, Saku. Sakura, Sakura, Sakura. I get it. I do. And don't worry: this'll get handled properly."

I frowned in complete confusion. "What...what do you get? What do you mean handled…?"

"This bratty behavior over every little order can't continue," he said, almost sadly. "Trust me, it's funny as hell to watch you struggle with yourself and try to save your pride by cursing and acting angry, but…" He shrugged. "But it really defeats the purpose of the game. I need to see better obedience from you and, well...I think there's only one way to get it."

I shuffled my feet nervously. Could anyone else hear the conversation? Was anyone watching me get scolded like a naughty kid? I told myself that no one was, but the idea was still there, gnawing at my pride. I lowered my voice, suddenly self-conscious. "Look, I'm...sorry...okay? I'm sorry. Doing this is weird and-"

"You're doing it willingly, Saku," he said gently. "I'm not going to accept any of the excuses you come up with for being such a brat. I won't tolerate that behavior."

He said it so sweetly, but my heart began to pound. He really meant it. He was actually going to punish me for this. My eyes darted around, looking for an escape...until I realized there was no escape. I wanted this. I'd willingly fought with him every step of the way and now…

I was going to let him punish me.

"I need you to be a good, obedient girl for me," he said, as my eyes grew wider and my heart thumped harder, and my breath began to come in quick, shallow bursts. "That was the deal you agreed to. I think you want to be good for me, Sakura." He reached out, and his fingers brushed softly, slowly, along my chin. His touch was cool, and goosebumps prickled up my back.

This was it: the exact thing I'd wanted...feared...hoped for? I wasn't nearly drunk enough for this. My inhibitions were crushing me. Was I really going to let freakshow Gaara No Sabaku punish me? What did that mean? What did his punishment entail? I didn't dare ask; I could hardly even speak.

"You don't know that," I whispered. "You don't know anything about me...maybe I just like being a bitch to you. Maybe I…" His touch turned into a grip. He held my chin, and tipped my face up slightly. His gaze felt like fingers probing deep inside me.

"I know enough, Saku. I know you're so careful with how everyone perceives you. I know you don't like to let that better-than-thou mask slip for even a second. I know you'll keep it up even if it means denying yourself something you want, if that something happens to not fit the cool social conventions of the in-crowd."

I gulped, viciously biting down on the inside of my cheek. The fact that he was right made not snapping back some derogatory remark even harder. Anger and haughtiness were my shields. Without them, my defenses were thin, at best.

"So, Saku, for your own sake, I have to rip away that mask of yours. The best way to do that…" He leaned even closer, turning my head slightly to the side so he could whisper in my ear. "Is to punish you until your silly pride doesn't matter anymore. The best way...is to make you cry."

I folded my arms, the only way I could think of to stop them from shaking. I realized my lower lip was pouting, and when I spoke, my voice came out as a whining, weak protest. "I don't need to be punished. That's stupid."

"It's exactly what you need, Sakura. What's even better is that as much as you're dreading it right now, you're still going to follow me." He released my chin, chuckling. "You're going to follow and accept your punishment like a good girl, aren't you?"

He didn't give me the opportunity to respond. Instead he turned his back, and wandered his way down the hall. I stood there, frozen in my hesitation, torn between the urge to run and the urge to follow.

He was right. Following won out.

The entertainment room occupied a large portion of the front corner of the house, but tonight the lights were off and the door was barely ajar.

There was a massive TV on the wall, playing some classic 80's horror film. A girl with long blonde hair fled from a masked killer through a suburban neighborhood, shrieking uselessly. Blacklights flashed in the corners, and there was at least one jack-o-lantern on every available surface, including lining the pool table and the shelf above the long, sectional couch. The room was isolated, dark, and currently vacant. It would probably be overtaken later by couples looking for privacy and sleepy drunks seeking a place to curl up. But for now, we had the room to ourselves, and Gaara shut the door behind us.

The girl on screen went down in a spray of blood. The killer's knife glinted, dripping as it plunged into her again and again. Gaara sat down on the couch, right in the middle, spreading his arms across the back.

"Good slaves don't sit on the furniture, Sakura," he said, as I turned away from the TV. There was still a smile lurking behind his serious expression. He was enjoying every second of humiliating me.

I mustered up my trembling, shrinking pride. "Where the hell do you expect me to sit then?"

"On the floor, on your knees, at my feet. Like a good girl."

I closed my eyes slowly. Every time I cursed at him, I was certain I was making my punishment worse - whatever it was. I had to do better at watching my mouth. At least here we were alone, with no crowds to see my degradation. I knelt, and crawled toward him until I was on my knees at his feet, facing him. He smiled.

"So much better, Saku. Doesn't that feel good? Just letting go, accepting the embarrassment? It's one of my favorite things to see…" He watched me in silence for a few moments, likely waiting to see if I had anymore snarky responses, but I bit my tongue. "Should I make you kiss my boots again? Hm? Since you're down there already…"

"Please don't," the words slipped out in a whisper, in desperation, fear blossoming at the prospect of more humiliation. I bit my lip, regretting that I'd let Gaara hear that tone in my voice. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, so close I could smell the mint on his breath.

"Please?" he mocked. "Begging already, Saku?" His eyes searched over my face. It was difficult to see that one white contact up close. It was creepy, like seeing a shadow in the background of a family photo that wasn't supposed to be there. "Such a silly girl. Why are you down there, on your knees, begging for me not to order you to embarrass yourself?"

"I don't know," I said softly. But I did know: I was understanding it more and more with every order, with every condescending glance and mocking word. I liked feeling as if I had no choice. I liked that I had an excuse to let go of my pride and do the filthy, degrading things that made my belly light and my pussy clench. I couldn't resist diving deeper; I couldn't resist getting more of that feeling.

If he ordered me to do the most utterly degrading, public act he could think of - I'd do it. Whatever punishment he came up with - I'd let him administer it. I'd throw a fit about it, curse at him, call him names - but I'd do it. I'd do it because I wanted that twisting in my belly to tighten and the heat inside me to become a blaze. I'd do it because it was the closest thing to freedom I'd felt: no room for pride, no place for carefully constructed laughter, no fake smiles, no pretending. My attempts to keep up my mask - sarcasm, arguing, disobeying - were quickly falling away, dismantled, piece by piece.