Disclaimer

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

Giving Gaara No Sabaku that power over me...maybe it was karma for what an asshole I'd been to him. Maybe it was the biggest self-discovery I'd ever encountered. Whatever it was, I couldn't resist it.

"You do know, Saku," Gaara said calmly. "You know there's the surface level reasons: you accepted my dare, you acted like a disobedient little brat, and now you have to be put in your place. But you know there's the deeper reasons too: you want to explore something that's probably pretty new to you, something that's giving you feelings you didn't expect. Something you're enjoying, even though you don't think you're supposed to." He waited, probably hoping for another aggressive reaction out of me, but my lips remained tightly sealed. He smiled slowly, sadistically. "I'd hate to deprive you of something you enjoy, even if it scares you. Get your head down, angel. Left boot only. Kiss it. Clean it with your tongue."

"Please," I whispered again. Tighter this time, more desperate. He just laughed.

"You're going to do exactly as I say," he said softly. "No matter how much you whine and cry about it, you're going to do it, Sakura."

"I'm not crying."

The idea of breaking down in tears in front of him sounded delicious. The idea of crying, begging, sobbing uncontrollably, only to have to give in and accept it in the end. I wanted to imagine he was forcing me. I wanted to imagine there would be dire consequences for refusal, instead of none at all. I wanted to imagine I hated him - just like I'd always insisted I did. The fantasy of it took me over like a high.

Gaara leaned back in his seat again - calm, collected, waiting. "Obey me, Sakura. Get your head down and let me see those pretty little wings of yours."

An actual whimper came out of my throat. I looked down at the boots I'd been commanded to put my mouth on once again. I could see the pale pink of my lipgloss shining on the leather, and I could still imagine the smell of them - that rich, sweet scent. The urge to run my tongue over them was strong, that strange desire returning with a vengeance. I dared one last look up at Gaara. He was smiling as he watched me.

"Do it," he said. "This is what you get for being a bad girl. You'll learn."

My stomach knotted up into a ball as I lowered my head. Crouched there, curled up small, I nuzzled my nose against the wrinkled, worn leather at his ankle. I let the roughness of his tight laces brush against my lips. I inhaled deeply, the intoxicating scent flooding my brain. I nearly moaned just smelling it. What the hell was wrong with me?

Since when did something like boots turn me on? It had never even crossed my mind, never worked its way into any fantasy I'd touched myself to. I pressed my lips to the leather, lingering there now that I no longer had all the eyes of a crowd on me.

Heat rushed between my legs, my arousal intensifying as I placed my kisses lower, towards the dusty sole of his boot. The taste of dirt was on my lips but even that didn't dissuade me. I pressed my forehead against his ankle as I kissed, utterly lost in that strange world of leather and laces and my own degradation.

There was a tap on my head, something pressing me down and keeping me there. Within moments I recognized the textured feeling of a boot sole, and realized Gaara had pressed his opposite foot on top of my head. I felt him shift, and knew he had leaned forward again by the nearness of his voice. "Use your tongue. Get it clean."

I wanted to beg him, Please, please don't make me, please don't make me do it, I'll be good, please… My heart was racing, my breath quickening, my arousal an ache that spread throughout my body and set all my nerves alight. I didn't want to say no, I just wanted to beg. But I couldn't manage any words with my face pressed down on his boot.

Obediently, I stuck out my tongue and traced it along the leather. Smooth, pleasing, and almost tasteless except for that heady scent that I was now inhaling through my mouth. I licked around the toe, just above the sole, over my lipstick prints, up beside his laces. I savored every inch. I felt filthy, vile, completely disgusting...

I felt on fire, alive, utterly consumed in the high. I laughed from the giddiness. Licked and laughed, then laughed harder. I wanted to touch myself so badly…

"Head up."

His opposite foot no longer held me down. Slowly, begrudgingly wrenching myself from whatever bizarre pit of a headspace I'd fallen into, I raised my head. Still on my knees, I stared at him and waited.

"Thirsty?" He held out the beer bottle. My mouth was dry, and I reached for it eagerly, only to have him pull it back. "Uh-uh, no hands." I put my hand down slowly, uncertainly. "Open your mouth, angel."

"I didn't even hesitate to obey. It was as if the world had fallen away and all that was left was his gaze and the sound of his voice. He filled his mouth with beer - filled it, but didn't swallow. He leaned forward...I knew exactly what he was going to do. I didn't flinch. I didn't back away.

I didn't close my mouth.

He leaned close, so close our lips nearly touched. He spit the beer into my mouth, all of it, not spilling a drop. It was still cold, refreshing on my tongue, but it tasted...it tasted like him. I knew it was his taste, I remembered it, and it sent a shudder of pleasure throughout my entire body. My arousal dripped as I gulped it down.

On screen, an unlucky teenager begged the killer not to stab him, his screams blasting from the speakers.

"That's much better, angel," Gaara said. "If only you were this obedient all along, I wouldn't have to punish you now."

I was horrified that I was going to leave a wet spot on the carpet. Every time he mentioned "punishment," it got worse. I couldn't handle it anymore. I was too turned on, too humiliated, too desperate.

"Give me my thong back," I said quickly. "Please."

He frowned, still leaning close. "Why?"

"Just give it back!" I hissed, shifting my position uncomfortably.

"I'm going to need a reason, Saku," Gaara said calmly. I clenched my fists. I wanted to slap him, to whine at him, to breakdown into more useless, pathetic begging. What had he done to me? How had he managed to reduce me to this?

"I...I'm…" The words garbled up in my throat. I couldn't say it, it was too embarrassing! But there was that wicked little voice again, whispering, "egging me on. Go on, say it, spill it all. Let him know what a pathetic, desperate little whore you've become.

Gaara's fingers wrapped around my chin, forcing my gaze up. I couldn't hide my blush, or the desperation of my expression. He said nothing, just locked me into that dark, creepy gaze. He didn't even need to command me to speak; it just came spilling out.

"I'm wet and I'm afraid I'm going to drip on the carpet, okay?" My own gasp cut me off, a choked sound, full of shock and horror at my boldness. Except I wasn't bold, not really: I was squirming, hot and humiliated.

"Is that so?" The smile that spread across his face only made it worse. I hadn't noticed before how sharp his canines were, like little fangs that could pierce into my skin. "Oh, Saku. Poor little angel. I've made a sinner out of you. Enjoying your punishment so much it's making you wet. So cute."

I wanted to look away. Instead I began whimpering again, staring at him helplessly, squeezing my legs together.

"Now I have to make your punishment even worse," he said, his voice mockingly sad. "I can't have you enjoying yourself that much." He patted his lap. "Come here. Sit."

My eyes widened. Here it was, the moment I'd dreaded and desired. That little voice inside my head was still cheering cruelly, taunting me, You're gonna get punished, you're gonna get punished!

All my sassy protests died in my throat. All my thoughts of coming out of this with my pride still intact were shoved aside by vivid fantasies of Gaara spanking me, his palm making contact with my bare ass again and again, until I was crying uncontrollably as he laughed.

I had no doubt that was what my punishment would be. It could be nothing else, and it granted Gaara the opportunity to hurt me, humiliate me, and make my arousal worse all at once. His eyes were wide, bright in the dim light from the flashing TV. His white eye seemed to glow. Haunting music played over the speakers, and I crawled up onto his lap, my back to him.

His hands gripped my hips and he leaned forward, pressed against my back, and said softly in my ear, "Do you understand what a safeword is?"

I gulped. "Yes."

"Yours is Red. Call it if you need to. Although, now that I'm seeing how much of a little masochist you are, I don't think you'll be calling it. You know what you deserve."

"I'm not a masochist!" I hissed. But the words felt false. The wetness between my legs was getting worse as my fear over my punishment intensified. If I didn't move soon, I'd get a wet spot on his pants, and I knew he had no intention of letting me go anywhere. I tried to squeeze my legs together, but it didn't make a difference since I was straddling his lap. As I moved, I felt the hardness in his crotch and froze. He was enjoying this, really enjoying it - god, he felt big.

"You've been a bad girl, Sakura," he whispered harshly. "A very bad girl. You deserve to be punished."

I held my breath so I wouldn't start gasping. His words squirmed inside my brain and straight down to whatever nerves controlled my cunt. The heat between my legs felt unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable reaction to simply hearing someone speak. Before I truly realized what I was doing, I pressed myself against his crotch, so that his hard dick made contact with my aching clit and I moved against him, claiming the only physical stimulation I'd had all night. I nearly moaned just from that tiny moment of pleasure, the contact so good that it sent a shudder all the way up my spine.

Gaara's hand gripped into my hair, right at the nape of my neck.

"Naughty angel. Very naughty. You really think that's what you deserve right now?" He pulled me back, his mouth close against my ear and he whispered. "You deserve to have your clit aching all night. You deserve to have duct tape slapped over it so you can't touch while I crush your pretty little pussy under my boot."

"The sound that came out of me was somewhere between a sob and a groan. Fuck, that was disgusting and wrong and so...so hot. It was terrifying and cruel and...damn it...how could I want that? How could that thought turn me on?

"But we'll get to that, won't we, angel?" He pressed me forward. Then further...further. "Bend over. Head down to the ground."

I had to reposition myself to manage what he was demanding. With my torso and face dangling off the couch, he forced me to put my legs up so that my thighs straddled his lap and all my intimate parts were bared, open and spread for him. He moved my feet behind him, crossing my ankles and leaning back, so I was effectively locked into position.

"Awww, angel, you're so wet." His hands squeezed my thighs, his rough palms moving higher until his thumbs fit right beneath the curve of my ass. I opened my mouth in a silent gasp, thankful for the darkness and my lowered face, my hair helping to hide the fire that was blazing across "my cheeks. After all the shit I'd given Gaara, after all the nasty things I'd said behind his back, said to his face - I was completely melting in his hands. I was craving his touches, craving his grip. I began to shake as I was held there, bent over, helpless except for the safeword that waited tucked at the back of my brain, utterly unwanted.

"Feeling a little scared now?" he murmured, as my legs shook. "You'll be more afraid in a moment, you know. But it's alright: the door is shut, and the music out there is so loud that you can scream and cry all you want, but you won't disturb anyone."

"Fuck you," I hissed. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you." The words weren't angry - they were desperate, needy, heavy with desire. "Please Gaara, don't...don't…"

"Don't what?" he chuckled. "Don't punish you? Hmm? Is that it? My naughty little angel doesn't want to be punished?" His voice, suddenly, was serious. "If you really don't want this, say so now. Right now. You're safe to do that, I promise you."

"I want it," my voice cracked, but I had to be honest. I had to tell him the truth. "I'll use my safeword, if I need to, but I...I want it."

He squeezed my ass, kneading and gripping my flesh in his hands. "Such a cute little ass, Saku. It'll look even cuter with bruises."

The final chase scene in the movie had begun. A woman ran through the empty halls of a hospital, limping, looking behind her with wide, terrified eyes as the killer made his slow, trudging way after her. He'd catch her eventually. They always did.

Gaara's palm slapped across my ass with a crack loud enough to be heard over the horrifying screaming coming from the screen. I sucked in my breath, then held it through the next swat, and the next, and the next - but the fifth - god damnit! Gaara was determined to break me. I could feel it in the strength he was putting into every slap. My skin was tingling, then stinging, then burning. I had never been spanked like this. Little slaps on the ass during sex, sure; but bent over and slapped repeatedly, purposefully, painfully? Never. His sixth "smack made me shriek and wiggle my feet, a useless attempt at squirming away from the pain.

"It's okay to struggle, angel," Gaara's voice was soft, soothing. "Struggle all you need to, you won't get away. You'll stay right here and take your punishment until you've learned your lesson."

Smack, smack, smack! I was wiggling in earnest now, grinding over his lap. My clit kept rubbing against his jeans, and the tangle of pain and pleasure made me moan. Gaara moved his legs, and I felt that pressure on the back of my head again - he'd slid one leg over my back and pressed his boot onto me, forcing my face against the carpet and holding me pinned.

"Doesn't it feel better to be restrained?" he said, speaking over the brutally loud sound of the swats he kept raining down on me. "Doesn't it feel good knowing that you're getting what's best for you? Learning to be a good girl."

I gave a long low cry, the pain and my nearly unbearable humiliation winning out over my pride. Just a few more swats, I told myself. Just a few more.

"But there were always more, and more, the pain growing worse as my ass grew hotter. Gaara was right: in some twisted way, putting all my strength into struggling and finding that it got me nowhere was a relief. I couldn't kick my legs, I couldn't squirm away, I could even raise my head up from the floor. I had no choice but to submit, to give into the punishment and accept the pain.

I was getting wetter from this. My insides clenched, but with Gaara's leg on top of me, I could no longer grind my crotch against him, and that denial was a whole new torment. I was so tense, I was certain that the slightest touch from his hand would make me cum instantaneously. My clit was pulsating with need, my nerves on fire.

I wanted him to touch me, desperately. Instead he switched back and forth between slapping first one cheek, and then the other, the burn so intense that my eyes welled up with tears. I was squirming and yelping with every strike, and finally, when I knew I couldn't take anymore without crying from the awful sting of it, I began to beg, "Please, stop, stop, stop, I'm sorry, please, Gaara, I'm sorry!"

"Are you really?" The swats paused. On screen, the girl had been cornered by the killer in the woods. She was screaming, crying, begging for her life.

"Yes!" I shook under his boot, trying to move my face enough so I could look up at him and he could see how sincere I was. "I'm sorry! I won't talk back anymore!"

"You'll be a good girl? You'll obey?"

"Yes," I groaned, and remembered something he'd told me earlier. "Yes, Master. I'll obey."

"That's better." His boot slowly moved off my head. The girl on screen had been caught. Every stab of the knife into her chest was punctuated by the shrieking of violin strings. "Give those boots a kiss while you're down there. Show me how thankful you are for your discipline, angel."

I kissed one boot, and then the other, more lipgloss prints on the shiny black leather. Gaara helped me sit up, slowly, and eased me back onto "his lap despite my ass stinging as it made contact with his jeans. I settled against his chest, the buckles of his harness cold against my back. For a moment, all I wanted to do was lay there close to him, feeling his heartbeat against my back. His arms encircled me in an embrace - soothing but not demanding. When I settled into it with a heavy, trembling sigh, his hold tightened.

Slowly, I drifted back to reality. The house around us felt real again. I could hear the bass thumping through the walls, and the distant murmur of the crowd. Gaara's fingers traced circles on my arm.

"Are you alright, Saku?" he murmured.

I nodded, then said, "I can't believe you...you actually…"

"I can't believe you let me," he said softly.

I sat up, enough so that I could look back at him. He wiped a rogue tear from my eye before it could fall, and I leaned into his hand. Gaara No Sabaku - weirdo, freakshow Gaara No Sabaku. He made me feel safe and terrified, protected and brutalized, all at once. But it wasn't only that.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to get in his pants.

"Are you going to be a good girl from now on then?" he said, taking my chin in his hands. "No more sass?"

I smiled. "I can't promise no sass. But...I'll try to be good."

"Sliding into your old ways so soon?" he chuckled. "It's been two minutes and now you'll only try to be good?"

"Being good is hard for a bad girl," I said. I traced my fingers up his chest, wondering what it would look like without his shirt. "But you know...it may help me be good...if you fucked me."

His calm expression was rattled by his surprise. I was used to boys falling head over heels for me, scrambling for the opportunity to sleep with me. But as his surprise subsided, Gaara just smiled slowly, as if I'd said something silly. He squeezed my cheeks and gave my face a shake.

"Oh, Sakuea. I can't make it that easy for you, now can I? That's no fun. I like watching you struggle."

I pouted, wiggling on his lap so I could grind up against him. "Of course it would be fun! Just a quickie-"

"No, angel." His voice was firm. "Not yet. When I fuck you - if I do - it won't be some quick fuck on a couch. I'll make you scream."

I could usually roll my eyes at boys' promises of overwhelming sexual prowess, but from Gaara - I believed him. I didn't dare doubt what he was capable of, and I wanted him even more. The desire was going to drive me crazy. How could I possibly manage to rejoin the party after this and behave normally?

I wasn't used to not getting what I wanted. My voice became a whine. "Please, Master. Come on." I moved my hips in a slow, smooth circle, and felt his dick twitch against me. Ha! How could he possibly resist that? But instead of unclasping my bra, Gaara reached around and gripped my hair. The painful tug made me still instantly, hissing at the pain.

"When I say no," his voice was low, a warning. "It means no. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," my response was quick. As horny as it had made me, I did not want to get bent over and spanked again.

"You're going to be patient for me," he said, holding my head in such a way that I couldn't look away from his gaze. "You're going to suffer through that wet pussy of yours and wait. And every time I order you to do something, it'll feel a little worse. You'll just have to take it."

My insides were quivering in anticipation. The very fact that he dared to deny me...the balls on this guy were monstrous. He stood up suddenly, dragging me with him, holding me close against his chest with his hand still tangled in my hair. Looking up at him like that made me quiver, yet somehow, in total disregard for self-preservation, I whimpered, "That's not fair."

He tweaked up an eyebrow, and said slowly. "Not fair? Not fair, angel?"

I gulped. Oh, regret, regret, instant regret! "Well...I mean...you...you can't just…"

"I can't just what?" His grip on the back of my hair tightened, tugging me down, forcing me back to my knees as he leaned over. "I can do whatever I want, angel. I can make you suffer all night and never give you release. I can spank you again just because I like hearing you scream - and you do sound so pretty when you scream."

My ass burned as it pressed against my folded legs. I didn't want another spanking when my skin was already so angry. "I'll call my safety word then," I whimpered. I didn't expect him to find that as funny as he did.

"Your safety word means that this stops, angel. That's what it's for. It's not a way to get what you want, it's a way to keep you safe."

But I didn't want it to stop! I wanted to get off, desperately. I wanted to get him out of his pants and into mine. I squirmed unhappily, "You're so mean."

"He grinned, and kissed my forehead. "Oh, angel. You have no idea."