Torture Comes in Many Forms

Chapter 3: Ibiki’s New Roommate

When Ibiki opened the door of his apartment to Sai, he felt blindsided. He, of course, didn’t let it show. But the photo in Sai’s file of his head and shoulders and Ibiki’s vague memories of Sai in an ANBU uniform left him very much unprepared for his first reaction to Sai in person: lust. Ibiki’s first thought was simply that he wanted to strip Sai of all his clothes and lick him from his toes to his hairline. He’d never reacted to anyone’s presence like this before, but his behavior was no different than if he was opening the door to his mailman or landlord.

But Sai was certainly spectacular. He wore the typical pants, leg wraps, and sandals of any Konoha ninja—all in black. But his upper body was only covered by a cropped jacket that stopped a few inches below his nipples. One sleeve was long and the other short. The jacket zipped in the front, but Sai had the zipper down enough to fully bare his throat and a v of creamy flesh. The one clothed arm only served to make the bare arm seem doubly bare, shockingly bare, erotically bare. And the stomach that was revealed was smooth, sleek, sensual, scarless—it looked like the stomach of a dancer who had never spent a second in danger around sharp weapons that could cut and slice. While Sai’s lips in the photograph had seemed almost too feminine, too elegant—in reality they were even more overwhelming. The impact of his whole body was of slim, elegant grace. He made Ibiki think of a slender black cat—and made him feel like a gorilla that had been in too many fights over his territory.

Even though Ibiki was coolly acting as if Sai was just any visitor at his door, he was failing miserably at meeting Konoha’s social standards for the greeting of a houseguest. He hadn’t had a houseguest in seven years, and to be honest, he had little experience of the social niceties before that. He and Idate had lived alone, and the “guests” of a twelve-year old genin had hardly called for any social graces. Ibiki had always been a loner and a bit aloof even with his teammates, perhaps one reason why he’d been attracked to ANBU after he’d made jounin--socializing when not on a mission or training was frowned on when you were in ANBU. The whole point of the masks, cloaks, and illusion genjutsus that ANBU used was to conceal the identity of who was in black ops. It was important to separate the more ethically questionable activities of an ANBU black ops team from ordinary life. Another secondary reason was that that this rigid separation helped keep traumatic flashbacks and haunting nightmares to a minimum.

If Konoha gave out awards for social ineptness, Ibiki and Sai would be neck and neck for winning. Sai had attempted to learn what to say and the normal facial expressions to be made from reading manuals and books. He practiced making smiles and other expressions as he had practice his jutsus and fighting skills. But although he was able to fight and kill not only efficiently but even elegantly, with a coolness that impressed and intimidated his opponents, his progress at learning social skills was pathetic. His expressions tended to look fake or inappropriate, and in the little time he had been on Team Kakashi he had gained a reputation for rudeness and offensiveness that usually required years to earn.

Ibiki, in contrast, had a mastery of words and facial expressions an actor would envy. But perhaps because he was always performing in a way when serving as the jounin commander of the torture and interrogation squad, when he was expected to act the role of Ibiki the man he was a bit at a loss. In addition, he found that social incompetence and coldness helped keep men afraid of him. The great copy-cat nin, Kakashi, called him a sadist and avoided him. Sarutobi Asuma, of the great Sarutobi clan of the Third Hokage, had called him terrible and merciless, a master of at manipulating anyone’s human weaknesses. When such powerful elite ninjas avoided Ibiki, it only increased the fear of the lesser ones. When a captive sensed that Konoha's villagers and shinobis feared and avoided Ibiki, it unsettled them and made Ibiki’s job easier. Ibiki wasn’t about to let one houseguest destroy the menacing mystique he had created over the years.

“Come in, brat,” said Ibiki. “Sit down and let’s go over the rules.”

Sai made an expression that Ibiki assumed was supposed to be a smile and merely said, “As you wish.”

Out of habit, Ibiki pointed to the most uncomfortable chair in the tiny living room, the one positioned so the fading light of the sun would painfully glare in the occupant’s eyes. He moved over and sat in front of the Western-facing window. The sun behind him highlighted his tall build, squared shoulders, and made his face difficult to see. The dark scars slicing across his head and sharp, skull-like angles of his face were accented by shadowing caused by the back lighting of the approaching sunset. The longer they sat here, the more the shadows would increase and the reds and oranges of the sunset would soon bathe in fire and make him more sinister as the light dimmed and faded. Ibiki was so internally flustered over this exotic, sexy being invading his home, he was falling back on the behavior and role he knew best—interrogator, inquisitor, and tormentor.

“Listen up, I’m not going to repeat this. Rule number one, these quarters remain inviolate. Rule number two, my room is off limits. Rule number three, your guests follow these rules,” snapped out Ibiki.

“My guests?” asked Sai.

Ibiki frowned, “Friends, dates, service personnel.”

“Clarify dates and service personnel,” said Sai.

Ibiki’s scowl deepened. Sai was pretty but dumb—no, scratch that, ignorant. He was demanding the information he needed to meet his mission objectives. Fuck, when had Ibiki made this into a mission? Oh, yea, the minute he’d pulled his mind out of the oversexed fantasies that the mere sight of Sai had generated inside him. There was no room for sex on missions or between team leader and members. “Service personnel are those that you hire or interact with to provide basic services—laundry, food, clothing, mail, medical or financial business. Dates are people you socially interact with for the purpose of intimacy,” said Ibiki.

Intimacy—yes that was the perfect word to use. It was a nice amorphous, ambiguous word. It could mean anything from a cozy conversation to a naked, sweat-slicked exchange of saliva and sperm. That bare stomach and lower back of Sai’s—they were made to be covered with sperm, to have it smeared and glistening over that skin—damn it, Ibiki was getting an erection, and he wasn’t wearing his long grey uniform jacket and his almost floor-length black overcoat. His grey wool slacks did nothing to hide the rising bulge at his crotch.

“I heard you had balls, but now I see you have a cock to match them," said Sai, "I’ve been on a team with a girl and a guy with such a small penis I thought he was a woman.”

Ibiki had to actually force himself not to blink—controlling such facial expressions was normally something that didn’t even require conscious effort. But he hadn’t sat in this room with another human being for about five years, and he’d never sat in it with anyone that made his dormant libido literally stand at attention. And those tiny, delicate lips were now praising his penis—god, this one would be a natural at the job of interrogation. He had found a weakness in Ibiki he hadn’t thought he’d had and was working it already. The silence between Sai and himself sizzled. Ibiki recited in his mind: `Don’t lick lips, don’t quiver, don’t twitch my cock to draw more attention to it, don’t think about those lips on my cock, don’t gulp, don’t open my mouth, don’t breath heavily—Fuck, forget this, turn the tables.’

“Naruto?” said Ibiki in a relaxed, musing tone as if he was commenting on the weather, “If his dick is tiny, his huge balls sure make up for it. That kid passed my chuunin exam with a blank paper.”

“I thought him weak and an prick with no balls when I first met him, but he is strong, fearless, and powerful,” agreed Sai. Then he added with his head tilted forward, his eyes two slits beneath perfectly arched brows, “But he still has a weeny cock. Judging from that tent in your pants, you might have a cock close to my size, but I need to see it clearly to be sure. Why don’t you pull it out and show me and prove you’ve got both a cock and balls at once?”

There was no hesitation in Ibiki’s mind—the way to get the dynamics between the two back to where he was in control lay in calling this buff or responding to the challenge. It would also give him valuable insight into Sai to see how he reacted to Ibiki exposing himself as asked. He stood up and walked around the coffee table to stand less than a meter away from Sai. With the slender nin’s head tilted down like that, he’d have a perfect view. Ibiki unzipped his pants without the least tremor and complete sangfroid. His cock was large in girth and length, and one of the few places where his skin had no scars, burns, or damage of any kind. With his cock full of blood, excited like it never got when Ibiki was alone with his needs, the jounin had no reason to be ashamed.

Sai abruptly stood and loosed the cord around his black pants that had no fly. He dropped them exposing naked flesh beneath, no boxers, no briefs, nothing but more sensual white skin, dark curls, and a flaccid cock that was indeed, unusual in length. Standing in front of the uncomfortable chair, Sai and Ibiki were close enough that Ibiki’s erection was only centimeters from Sai’s bare skin. The younger man’s hand slid down and, staring Ibiki in the eyes, he began to stroke himself to hardness.

The bitter knowledge that Sai felt none of the immediate sexual pull that Ibiki had toward him helped make it easier for Ibiki to just stand there coolly. Ibiki had no illusions about his looks. Even if Sai managed to get an erection looking at his scarred, sharp features, all it would take to kill that was to remove his forehead protector. There were at least seven screw holes visible to someone standing in front of him, not to mention the puckering and criss-crossed of scars that told of long-ago welts and cuts left to heal over in an ugly mass of bumpy, puckered skin.

But it only took Sai a few strokes before the blood rushed down and expanded his penis to the point where it almost touched Ibiki’s thin grey wool pants. His cock was smaller in diameter than Ibiki’s, but it wasn’t clear whose was longer. Sai moved just a little bit, so his cock was against Ibiki’s, just below it. Sai was a little shorter, so standing normally his penis extended out just below where Ibiki’s sprouted out. He moved closer, so the tip of his cock touched Ibiki’s balls. His hand grasped the two male organs together. The tip of Ibiki’s cock touched those black curls of Sai’s.

If he hadn’t had experience at not cracking under torture, Ibiki might have lost it. He might have done any of things running through his head involuntarily. He could have put his hand over Sai’s hand showed him how to give a good hand job. He could have just leaned in that short distance to taste those pink lips. He could have stroked that cock so much whiter than his darker carmel-colored skin. He could have spun that body before him around to explore the naked ass he couldn’t see. He’d spread those cheeks apart and plunge himself inside the hot tightness of this beautiful half-naked ninja . . .

“About the same,” said Sai, letting go and stepping back. He pulled up his pants over his erection and tied them casually.

Ibiki tucked his own cock away and zipped up his uniform trousers. “Let me show you the bathroom and the kitchen,” he said calmly. But a part of his mind noted that the tent pole in Sai’s pants wasn’t subsiding as quickly as it had gone up. After all, gathering information was his business.