The Traveling Pussy

Chapter 4: ANBU’s Interest

I was halfway home when I realized I was being followed by someone in ANBU. It didn’t occur to me that I might be under official ANBU surveillance, so I stopped and shouted back, “Hoy, what’s up? Did I forget something back at the gate? Do they need me to go back?” I was expecting the ANBU ninja to come up for a chat—most people you shout at in the quiet of a dawn have a sort of instinctive need to come over and hush you up. It takes a certain kind of person to be willing to wake up whoever and not care—the sort of person I was looking for, so I liked to do a bit of shouting in those early half-light, half-shadow mornings.

But to my surprise the ANBU figure just vanished. It was such a weird response that I stopped thinking about Gaara and just thought about why an ANBU ninja would follow me and not want to be caught doing it. Of course I had sex on my brain, so my first thought was somehow I’d missed that an ANBU member was hot for me. Not bloody likely, however! I was really disillusioned with ANBU. I had been walking down Shodai Street when I become aware of my tail, and I just sat down on the sidewalk not caring if it was dirty or if it was really weird to sit on the sidewalk of a residential street at 6:20 a.m. If ANBU was tailing me, sitting still for a while would give me the advantage of attuning myself to the area, so I had a better chance of identifying if I was being followed or not.

God, maybe I’m finally going crazy, I thought. Why would an ANBU shinobi follow me? Then it hit me—I hadn’t been making an effort to hide my interest in Gaara, the Sand, or Missing-nins. It didn’t take a genius to see that the biggest threat to Gaara would be someone with an unusual interest in him. And if that someone was reading up on all the major criminals of the past twenty years, well it only made her look more suspicious. Shit! I had been so busy watching everybody from my booth at the gate that I’d forgotten I was of course being watched too.

I blushed thinking back on how crappy a job I’d done at the gate since I’d heard about the arrival of the Kazekage. Just when I was expected to step it up since a potential assassination target was in town, I just wigged out and asked for leave. It had to look bad. And stopping my little précis of the crime reports—I might as well have sent everyone a memo, “Hey, I’m no longer a responsible ninja that you can trust.” Crap. Gaara was out of the picture. I had been thinking with my pussy. I didn’t want to leave Konoha or stop being a leaf nin. It had been a fun fantasy while I had it, but when you realize you are being tailed by ANBU, it is time to get real.

I picked up a pebble on the sidewalk next to me and began to compulsively rub and stare at it as if it was some magic rock. As I turned the little grey stone over and over in my fingers, I thought about ANBU—and Ibiki. It all came back to Ibiki. With the thought of him somewhere in Konoha putting captured criminals and dangerous nins into states of nightmarish pain and agony, it was sort of hard to get excited about the ANBU ninjas with their little masks.

The ANBU masks were supposed to be scary, but for some reason they always struck me as rather silly. No one bothered to hide their hair or disguise their body. It was ridiculously easy to figure out who the various ANBU nins were if you watched them carefully and read the security files of all the ninjas would were talented enough to be in ANBU. And once you knew who was behind the mask, it felt childish to have to pretend to not know who it was. They never changed their voices, and the stupid masks didn’t really disguise how they sounded. And knowing who was behind the masks, just made them seem like normal ninjas with a better fashion sense. I liked how the ANBU uniforms exposed sexy biceps and were worn with a lot more visible weapons than standard jounin garb. More flesh and steel was hot.

I was annoyed with myself and suddenly threw the pebble in my hand away into the street. If I hadn’t been so into my little sex game of chasing after Gaara's cute ass, I’d have been paying enough attention to know who was following me. Then I’d have more of a clue if it was personal or professional. I realized suddenly I was hoping it was the latter, not the former. If a shinobi needed a mask to make himself or herself scary, that wasn’t very impressive. None of the missing-nins that had impressed me wore masks—or at least they didn’t wear masks when doing the horrible things we had recorded each of them doing. Masks and disguises were for lesser criminals, common thugs.

An ANBU figure appeared at the bottom of the street making my heart suddenly beat faster. I turned to watch the masked nin approach me, openly walking towards me under the grey morning sky. Shit! It was Shino. Last I knew Shino was still a chuunin although I’d heard the rumor he was going to be promoted to jounin. How the hell had I let his promotion slip by me? I had no doubt it was Shino. Who else had that hair and insisted on covering his neck and mouth all the time? Only someone with Shino’s fucked up need to constantly bury his head in his own collar would have a modified ANBU tank top with a collar that rose up to cover his mask’s mouth. It was the dumbest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

Now Shino was somebody that scared me. I felt myself start to sweat despite the cool morning air. I was more scared of Shino as Shino than of Shino as masked ANBU warrior. Sure, the jounins that were admitted into ANBU could kill you quickly. But dead was dead. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life being slowly chewed on by bugs that had crawled into my nose, my ears, my anus, and my vagina. Actually, I really wasn’t worried about bugs in my butt or pussy, however. For all Shino’s threats, my muscle control was pretty good down there. Maybe I couldn’t shoot ping-pong balls at targets or smoke cigarettes with my crotch, but I was confident that I could take out a lot of whatever he would send there. I doubted he would take the risk.

But bugs up my nose and in my ear canals—oh god, no. Shino had been very graphic in what his bugs would do to my insides if I ever carelessly killed anymore of them in pursuit of fun. Now, personally, I thought the pursuit of the perfect blow job surely was more that just “fun,” but evidently Shino didn’t see it as anything worth the life of a few of his bugs.
How was I supposed to know the bugs that had come out of his penis were rare Aphrodisian Beetles, worth a small fortune? How was I supposed know that when they bit you, the bite enabled you to hold a hard on for hours on end? Bugs were bugs. It had really hurt my feelings that Shino cared more about a bunch of bugs that helped his hard-on than having sex with me. Stupid ass.

Shino stopped beside me. For once I was glad he was in the silly mask, and I wasn’t supposed to know who he was. He couldn’t just let his bugs crawl all over him if he was hiding his identity. Oh, piss. He wasn’t hiding his identity—a menacing line of bugs emerged from under his armpit and circled down his arm like a spiral tattoo. I grimaced and scrambled back a bit, getting up to stand since I wanted to be able to move fast if I had to.

“Hey, Shino, no need to let your friends out. I’m always happy to help you out with whatever you need,” I said nervously.

He didn’t answer, but just used the silent signals that a ninja used in hostile territory to indicate I should follow him and began walking down Shodai Street. I looked wildly around. I couldn’t see anyone else, but my nerves were telling me they had to be there. I felt myself start to panic. I realized that Shino was getting pretty far down the street, and I began hastily to follow, not wanting him to send any bugs back to make sure I did. Oh fuck, oh no. I was starting to pant as I followed Shino’s back. I was beginning to suspect where I might be going, and it had me in a state.

Ibiki.

I was going to be taken to Ibiki for interrogation. My nipples were rock hard, and it had nothing to do with that cool chill of the overcast, grey morning. I could feel my pussy contracting and tingling, its lips filling with blood, excited and aroused. If I met Gaara on the street in front of me naked, I’d walk right by him. I’d have to—ANBU wanted me, ANBU would make me. Oh god, I wouldn’t have a choice. It was going to be wonderful. My week off was going to be even better than I’d planned.