Izumo's Problem

A/N: Thanks Travellyr for catching the typo!

VIII.

Ibiki was working on Kurohyou’s ANBU file, updating it with information on yesterday and today. He carefully noted that the ninja who had been officially known as Panther for over a decade, seemed to have chosen to go by the more precise “Kurohyou” or black panther now. His real birth name wasn’t even in this file, but a more highly classified one. Orphaned at three, Danzou had taken the boy in, and essentially his name had been forgotten until it was carved on the memorial with the names of all the ninjas who died for Konoha.

Officially, Kurohyou’s file began at thirteen, when the boy with a name supposedly forgotten by partial amnesia was made part of ANBU, and hence a citizen of Fire Country and Konoha. He chosen the name panther after being assigned that mask in ANBU, where he underwent extensive interrogation to determine he wasn’t in fact an imposter or spy. Although his story had checked out, the decision had been made not to remove the name, for in a sense the boy that had left Konoha at eleven had died. It also would hardly make for good PR, morale, and recruiting to let it be know that an ANBU jounin had been left for dead and enslaved for two years. The ability to hold a ninja of that quality against his will was impressive, and largely due to the three S-class missing nins who had been involved in the slavery ring. When Ibiki had studied the case, he hadn’t been able to figure a way that Kurohyou could have escaped sooner.

Although the early parts of Kurohyou’s life had been dramatic, the remaining years had not. It wasn’t until this week that he’d become personally interesting to Ibiki. Having finished his notes, Ibiki stared down at the cold, impersonal look of Kurohyou’s official photograph. The contrast to that smiling face that was haunting him was startling. The power of sex and love was something he perhaps underestimated too much. Maybe it was time to start having sex, Ibiki thought, even if he wasn’t interested, just for the sake of observation. Perhaps the next uke he recruited, he’d visit himself, he mused.

Ibiki’s reflections, however, came to an abrupt halt when he sensed the chakra of Kurohyou suddenly arrive in Torture Room 3, one of five chambers without windows and doors deep underground beneath ANBU headquarters. To get into them, you needed to be able to do the transportation jutsu and know exactly where the rooms were located relative to your location. There wasn’t a lot of security—after all, who wants to go to a torture room? But as with all parts of the buildings, there were security cameras. But elite ANBU nins hardly need security cameras to sense when another ninja is close; they of course can read the chakra signature. And the chakra signatures from Torture Room 3 were telling every ANBU in the building that Panther had the brass balls to have brought his new lover, Izumo, with him to the very room Ibiki had whipped him in earlier today.

Ibiki sighed, depressed. No doubt Kurohyou was going to “borrow” some equipment, taking it back to Izumo’s. Well, if any of the off duty ANBU nins no doubt getting drunk at Kurohyou’s apartment had bothered to ask him—or invite him—he could have told them that Kurohyou was hardly going to stay there. It was easy to predict that he’d drag Izumo off somewhere to fuck. Really, the childishness of some jounins was pathetic—this whole surprise party thing was one of the silliest excuses to get together and drink. This is what happens, thought Ibiki grimly, when I don’t have any ukes lined up for them, there’s a lull in missions, and nothing else exciting is going on.

He’d not stopped the party, for that would probably mean the next idea would be even stupider—and actually the surprise party idea really wasn’t all that stupid of an idea after all. The desire to tease and harass “Pan” about his new lover by preventing them from being alone had lead to the discovery that the idiot was living in an apartment even more bleak than Ibiki’s. He had a futon in a small bedroom, a wooden stool in the small kitchen, and a highly carved ivory box that couldn’t be opened in the living room/dining room area. Of course, he had his equipment—spears, knives, uniforms, etc.--and some basic kitchen and cleaning things along with bedding, but really the futon and stool were it for furniture. It had so shocked the ANBU squad planning the little surprise party, that they’d gone about begging for old, unneeded furniture. Ibiki had let them take two chairs and a small table from headquarters, and around five he’d overheard a conversation that indicated they had covered the furniture basics and now were after food, drinks, and knick-knacks.

Hmm, well, once Kurohyou was gone with Izumo from Torture Room 3, perhaps he’d head over to his apartment and surprise the party-goers and check the redecorating out. It was really too bad he was going to have to suspend the panther for removing things from the torture room—things that he certainly was taking his time in selecting—oh god! And suddenly it flashed on Ibiki, that this new person, this Kurohyou, was doing something so brazen and so unlike the old, silent, unsmiling Panther, that Ibiki hadn’t figured it out. He was down there fucking Izumo—he had to be, because what else would they be doing in there for three minutes? Not that three minutes was a lot of time, but an ANBU nin just collecting something would hardly need more than a minute.

Oh my, yes, that was it, and the other ANBU had come to the same conclusion because just about every chakra signature in the building was either in the video monitor room or heading there. That little exhibitionist freak! And suddenly that incredibly sexy smile flashed across Ibiki’s mind, followed by his memory of listening and seeing Kurohyou and Izumo have sex this morning. His cock twitched violently in his pants for the second time today, and Ibiki couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought of watching Kurohyou play with his little Iriomote.

Yet it wouldn’t do to let the men and women working under him know that or to think he would condone this sort of thing. Slowly and deliberately, Ibiki refiled Kurohyou’s file and began to walk to the monitoring room. He dropped all his shields so that everyone in the room would notice him approaching no matter how distracting the exhibit on the monitors was. There was plenty of time for all of his ninjas to go back to what the hell they were supposed to be doing, but in fact no one was leaving that room. When he arrived at the door, he cleared his throat. A path magically cleared to a spot in front of the correct monitor.

The bastard, still in uniform although missing one glove and his mask, was looking into the camera as he got blown by a kneeling Izumo, whose naked, cum-dripping ass could clearly be seen. “I see I missed the first act,” said Ibiki dryly, making everyone laugh. And then eerily, as if he could hear the laughter, Kurohyou’s expression started to change. Ibiki felt a little panic rising in him, and his cock twitched again. He wasn’t going to—oh, god, he did, he smiled into the camera for just a second before tilting his head down so that smooth black shoulder-length hair slide over his face, like a cloud over the sun, thought Ibiki.

What? A cloud over the sun? Did I really just think that? I’m getting fucking poetic? The throb in his cock suggested that he wasn’t poetic enough. And suddenly in his mind he thought how that smile was like the rainbow after a fierce thunderstorm. No, it was water in a burning desert, or the fire on a dark, cold night. It was a breath of air in the endless vacuum of space—oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! This sexual desire thing really is not good for me, thought Ibiki, forcing himself to stop thinking like some lovesick poet.

He’d heard the one female ninja in the room whimpering, some of the others muttering curses and gasping, and all the laughter cutting off abruptly when that smile had flashed on the monitor. But unlike when he was functioning normally, he couldn’t precisely say exactly what the reaction had been of everyone in the room other than Yuugao, the lone kunoichi. He definitely needed to get reacquainted with his sexuality before it affected his job!

“Copies of this security tape may be purchased from me, all proceeds donated to the ninja’s widows’—I mean surviving spouses’--and orphans’ fund,” said Ibiki, determined to take control of the situation. He probably wouldn’t carry through with that, but such a claim sure would mean better morale and that the room would clear out more smoothly. Cheers filled the room as Ibiki had expected. “Now everyone not supposed to be here will disappear,” concluded Ibiki, and, again predictably, groans filled the room.

“Sir! Permission to be reassigned,” asked Seiji. Ah, the irony of fate! One of the few non-bisexuals in ANBU, Seiji was most definitely straight. Everyone took Seiji’s comment as an excuse to remain.

“Granted. Switch with Kichiro,” said Ibiki after looking around slowly and carefully considering who he should replace Seiji with.

A few gasps made him turn back to the monitor. Evidently Izumo had done something wrong—or maybe right--when Ibiki had looked away, as his hands were now being cuffed and linked to one of the sets of chains descending from the ceiling. Hmm, he probably tried to pull off those nipple clamps. Ibiki forgot to order everyone out as they all watched Kurohyou add weights to the clamps on Izumo’s nipples.

Wow, the chuunin sure got excited by a little tit torture! Oh, he was crying a little now, a few tears running from those big eyes that looked at Kurohyou like he was the one flower in a dreary wasteland, the only star in the blackest of nightskies, the lone island in a wind-tossed sea—oh, fuck me! Ibiki forced himself to observe the scene on the monitor as if he was going to be writing up a report—and dammit, he would have to anyway. Izumo was clearly begging from the way his mouth was moving, and if Ibiki was more himself, he could have read his lips. But with the chuunin’s bruised body wiggling like that, and his cock dripping and looking ready to cum any second, it was hard to focus on his lips. I’d have ringed that cock, thought Ibiki critically, justifying his need to stare at Izumo’s penis as it leaped and darkened in color. And he nodded as Kurohyou did just that with a heavy leather cock ring, making Izumo writhe more, beg more fervently, and weep in earnest, rather than shedding a stray tear here and there.

Now what? Oh, lord, they hadn’t even been fucking 24 hours, and he’s picking up testicle clamps? Weighted ones? How the hell did I not know that Izumo really, really seems to like BDSM? Annoyed with himself, Ibiki took it out on everyone else, snapping, “I believe I gave an order earlier!”

The room slowly emptied until only Ibiki, Kichiro, and Yoshito remained. Standing in front of Izumo, blocking the camera’s view of pretty much everything of him below mid-chest, Kurohyou wasn’t putting those clamps on his lover, but rather moving them against his body, letting the cold metal of the weights slide against his skin. He bent forward, so his face was close to Izumo’s, covering even more of the cute chuunin from view—wait, when did I start thinking of Izumo as cute?

What was Kurohyou doing? Smiling at him? Breathing on him? Talking to him? For security reasons, the camera was never wired for sound, and there was a remote control switch that shut it off in case an interrogation was top secret. The switch triggered the play of a loop of an empty room. Ibiki moved the switch after every use of the room—only he hadn’t yet done so today! Suddenly it all made sense to the interrogation expert. He was sure when he rewound the tape, that the sex he’d missed would have occurred from a bad angle, showing mostly a clothed Kurohyou pounding into an Izumo’s whose face couldn’t be seen. And this, this little teasing show, here, would no doubt cut off just at the most interesting point. Really, thought Ibiki smiling, I think Pan here is finally living up to his potential. I’m going to have to stay on my toes from now on. This is a little bit of revenge against me, I think.

The three men watched as Kurohyou let the clamps suddenly drop to the floor. He began kissing Izumo deeply. Then his head moved down to Izumo’s neck and then to his armpit. Shit, now that’s a technique worthy of a torture specialist! Izumo was going wild, clearly screaming his head off, as Kurohyou licked his armpit, hell, he was doing more than lick there. Good god, was he going to give the chuunin a hickey there too? The kid barely had a patch of skin aside from his face not covered with light bruises from lovebites!

Izumo’s legs, not chained, wrapped around the jounin, and he desperately rubbed his confined cock against his lover’s body. Well, that would be punished—or should be, amended Ibiki. And yes, that one gloved and one ungloved hand were now moving over those legs, unwrapping them. The chuunin’s cock was now completely red and so aroused it was pointing straight out, occasionally even leaping a little to point up to the ceiling. The panther nin took his time selecting ankle cuffs and a spreader bar. By the time they were on and secured to the floor, Izumo was sobbing. And then Kurohyou moved to give his attention to the back of his lover’s knees.

It was impossible to see just what he was doing, but one thing was clear—it felt good, unbearably good. Izumo’s hair was all over his face, but enough of it could be seen that it was clear that the chuunin was moving into a state where he was going to orgasm and orgasm hard, cockring or no. God, you could just see that a dry orgasm was coming, hell, possibly several of them. You could see it in the way Izumo’s body was shaking, his cock was dancing, his skin was flushing everywhere. And then, that body bowed, his mouth opened in one long scream, and—

The screen suddenly showed an empty room.

God, he knew it was going to happen, but he hadn’t know how it would make him feel. Like a child the second after his ice cream cone fell to the ground, like a—Wait, feel? Why the hell was he feeling anything because he wasn’t getting to see sex that shouldn’t fucking be happening here anyway? Dammit, he needed--he needed to do something. He was in the mood to whip someone, to make them scream.

Shit! This was not good, not good at all. He needed a drink—oh! And it just so happened there was a party going on where he could get one. Ibiki smiled and vanished from the control room.

Kichiro and Yoshito slowly let out their breath. Damn, things had gone from exciting to terrifying in a second. Neither ever wanted to see Ibiki looking like that again.

Whew, Panther sure had big ones . . . although both men knew that if anyone ever looked at them like Izumo did at his lover, they’d probably not care what Ibiki did to them.

Damn, Pan had won the jackpot with that sweet thing! Glancing at each other, two masked heads nodded as one. Kichiro started rewinding the tape while Yoshito went to get every blank tape he could lay his hands on. If they were lucky, they could make a master copy and a number of valuable spares before Ibiki came back or Panther came hunting for the video. And for two guys whose names meant lucky, well, it should be like taking candy from a baby . . .