Into the Fire

Chapter Four

Ibiki paced the floor of the teahouse restlessly, too much could go wrong at this stage of any operation. As always, he’d feel better when he knew where everyone stood. He breathed a sigh of relief when the first of the men he’d been waiting for slipped through the door, if he’d convinced Hyuuga Hiashi the others would surely show.

Soon the heads of most of the major clans were gathered around the small table anxiously wondering what was so important that the head of Torture and Interrogation needed to meet with them about it in secret.

The interrogator ran a hand over his head, unsure still of exactly how to explain what was going on while still maintaining Kakashi’s privacy. “Sarutobi-san,” he finally began, turning his face to Asuma, “I recently uncovered a practice begun by your father that, while it may well have been necessary at the time, is now being abused by our current Hokage for her own ends.” Ibiki scowled ferociously at the table before continuing, “One of our jounin is being forced, under the guise of missions, to allow himself to be used as a whore and a whipping boy in order to satisfy Tsunade’s debts and cover her sake and gambling expenses.”

“Being a loyal shinobi, this man has shouldered his burden, alone I might add, for far too many years. I believe it is our duty to call a halt to these activities that reflect so poorly on our village and our humanity.” The scarred man studied the dubious faces around the table, he had hoped for more of a reaction.

“Morino-san, not that I doubt your word . . . but I really need more information if I’m to act on this.” Akamichi Chouza rumbled.

“You have to admit, it’s a little hard to believe.” Nara Shukaku added.

All eyes turned in disbelief when a tight-lipped Hyuuga Hiashi spoke up. “What do you want us to do?” he asked simply.

“I am of the opinion . . .” Ibiki began slowly, wondering, yet again, whether he should just stop now and cut his losses. After all what he was about to suggest amounted to treason. He shook off his doubts and plunged ahead, “that Tsunade should be removed as Hokage. The threat to our village that resulted in her appointment no longer exists. She was always a marginal choice . . . now that we have time shouldn’t we look for a better person to lead us?”

“That is a big step Morino-san.” Hiashi responded slowly, “I’m afraid you will have to give our colleagues more information if you wish their cooperation. I, on the other hand, am afraid I have a good idea of what you are referring to. I objected then and I will back you up now.”

“Thank you Hyuuga-san, your help is much appreciated.” the interrogator replied gratefully. He cast a hard eye on each clan head in turn before rumbling threateningly, “I’ll need your word that what I’m about to tell you will stay locked up in your head. If this gets out you will end up with a very ugly enemy . . . the jounin in question is certain to retaliate.”

“We can keep a secret Ibiki.” Inuzuka Tsume protested, “We’re not genin.”

“Is that everyone’s opinion?” the scarred man asked coldly, making sure he got a nod of assent from everyone gathered. “Fine . . . how many of you remember the White Fang?”

Most of the elders around the table remembered Sakumo well . . . they had gone on missions together for years until he was disgraced. “What about Sakumo-san?” Aburame Shibi asked quietly.

“After his disgrace, Sandaime decided to punish him for his failure by using him as a bargaining chip to get the things the village needed to rebuild after the war. He whored the mighty White Fang out to merchants and petty nobles in exchange for favors and supplies. Sakumo finally committed suicide after he was informed he needed to bring his nine year old son along the next time.” Ibiki studied the assembled faces closely, gratified to see nothing but shock and disgust. He didn’t know what he would do if one of the people he approached found some sick pleasure in the idea.

“Luckily for Kakashi,” the scarred man continued, “Minato moved him into his apartment after Sakumo’s death and Sandaime wisely let the matter drop. But once Kakashi made jounin . . . he was forced to step in and take over his father’s role. I don’t think it was that often,” he hastened to add when he realized that Asuma looked like he was about to throw up or pass out, “I checked, Kakashi was still doing a ton of regular missions then. But after Sandaime passed and Tsunade became Hokage . . . she must have found it in his notes. Since she’s been in office Hatake hasn’t been on one official mission . . . yet he’s nearly always out of the village. I for one,” he concluded as he swept hard eyes over his rapt audience, “am determined it needs to stop.”

“How did you happen to come by this knowledge?” Shibi shrewdly asked, face totally unreadable behind his high collar and dark glasses.

“I ran into Kakashi accidentally in the showers at headquarters a few nights ago . . . I thought he’d been captured and tortured.” Ibiki rasped, voice dropping to a pained whisper, “But the bitch just healed him and sent him off again for two weeks. She’s slowly killing a good man and destroying the reputation of our village . . . and by extension, ourselves.”

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention Morino-san.” Hiashi said in a frosty voice, “We will deal with our illustrious Hokage. Do you know where Hatake-san is now?”

“He was sent to the Daimyo in Grass.” the interrogator instantly replied.

“I believe you should go retrieve our copy-nin, he is far too valuable an asset to be languishing away in Grass.” the Hyuuga continued, “Take your time . . . we should have things in order here by the time you return.”

Ibiki pulled on his coat and stood, but before he could leave an anxious hand clutched his sleeve. “Do you need help Morino-san?” Asuma asked almost desperately, “I need to do something . . .Kakashi and I have always been, not friends exactly, but friendly, comrades, we’ve done missions together. How he must hate me.” he finally groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I think you’d be surprised Asuma.” Ibiki replied kindly, laying a massive hand on the distraught man’s shoulder in a show of support, “I highly doubt you’d so much as catch of glimpse of Kakashi if he hated you. I imagine he’s the last person who would blame a son for his father’s mistakes. Just treat him like you always have and I’m sure it will be fine.”

Dinner had been a torturous affair for the copy-nin. Once the guests had arrived he was ordered up on the table and the butt plug removed. The Daimyo then invited his guests to draw straws. The winner happily clambered up on the table and began forcing a giant salami into his anus, hooking a finger through the ring behind his scrotum to keep the jounin from squirming away. Once his tormentor was satisfied with the amount he had forced inside he flipped a startled Kakashi onto his back, pinning him in place while the guests hacked off portions of the protruding sausage to fill their plates.

After the sausage had been served Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief, at least none of the knives had slipped and severed something vital. He relaxed when the remains of the salami was roughly tugged out and tossed aside, only to have the four men begin filling his ass with polished stone orbs. The small spheres were not only making him uncomfortably full, they were also heavy, placing extra pressure on already abused tissue.

Just when he thought he’d burst the copy-nin was pulled off the table and maneuvered into a swinging seat, legs bound awkwardly to his chest while his cheeks were spread wide by the straps.

“We’ll be back when we finish our meal slut.” the Daimyo remarked as he fisted his hand in matted silver strands and tugged, “I’d advise you not to let any of those balls escape before you’re given permission boy . . . you wouldn’t want me to have to punish you.” With a hearty laugh the group headed back to the table, leaving the jounin to retreat, once again, into his own memories in an attempt to escape the burning humiliation of the situation.

I never knew dinner could take so long, Kakashi thought mournfully, I don’t know how much longer I can keep these balls inside. Soon the four men wandered away from the table and over to where the jounin hung, a polished orb desperately clutched by weakened muscles as it hung halfway out of his ass. “Fine,” the Daimyo snorted as he slid a bowl under the suspended figure, “now push those balls out pet so we can fuck you.”

The copy-nin gratefully relaxed and let the balls fall out of him, wincing at the clatter they made as they landed in the metal bowl. As more and more emerged, however, it became harder and harder for him to force them down his abused passage. He was sweating and straining, much to his watchers’ furious delight, finally letting out a hoarse cry as the last few passed through the loosened ring and fell with a clang.

“Very good, boy.” the Daimyo praised, “We have a treat for you. We’re going to try a little experiment and see how many of us can fit inside of you at the same time . . . if you manage to take all four of us at once I’ll let you come.”

Kakashi shuddered at the implications, but resigned himself to relax as much as possible to minimize the damage. At least I know there’s a medic on call, he thought thankfully. Almost immediately he felt the Daimyo press hard against his back as he easily slid inside. An immensely fat man who smelled of body odor and bad breath smashed himself tight against the copy-nin’s chest as he roughly joined him. The third man stepped up to the jounin’s right and battered his way in to rest alongside the others.

By this point the copy-nin was feeling painfully stretched already, with one more to go. He glanced at the remaining man from under lowered eyelids. Oh, just great, he wailed mentally, they had to save the biggest for last. Kakashi took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing his body to relax as stubby fingers tugged at his already overextended ring. When the blunt head of the last man’s cock began to force its way through the jounin felt himself tear. Surprised it took that long, he mused absently as he struggled to suppress the pain.

Once all four men were seated to the hilt they began to move erratically, each man surrendering to his own rhythm, leaving the copy-nin feeling like there was a badger in his ass fighting to get out. The lack of coordination guaranteeing the jounin would receive no pleasurable stimulation, not one of the men ever managing to find his prostate.

After what seemed like hours, one by one his tormentors began to peak, until he was smothered in mounds of hot, sweaty flesh as they all collapsed against him before finally, thankfully, pulling out. The Daimyo and his companions moved away to clean themselves and grab glasses of wine, leaving Kakashi dangling, blood and semen dripping out of his abused ass to puddle on the floor.