D/s Naruto

Chapter 81 (Monday 18 June 2007. 4:30 P.M.)

Around 4:30, it occurred to Raidou that he would need to shave if he didn’t want to look silly in that gladiator thong. He didn’t want his pubic hair spilling out the sides, and if his ass was going to be on display, he wanted to make sure it was hairless. It might look better if he just shaved off everything but the hair on his head. When the two women in the shop finally left without buying anything, Raidou went into the office, saying, “Genma, we need to, well, I need to, ah, well, maybe you could help me, ah—“

“Spit it out, Doughboy,” said Genma using one of the silly nicknames he’d given Raidou over the years.

“Shaving. I need to shave off everything. I’m a little scared about my balls, though,” said Raidou blushing.

Genma’s cock went completely hard again, and he cursed. But the upset on Raidou’s face made him rush to reassure him, “Hey, no, I’ll do it; it’s a good idea. Fuck, I should do the same damn thing if I don’t want to look like I’ve got a carpet in my thong. It’s just, god dammit, Raidou, I know I’m going to be rock hard doing it! Fuck, I’m hard now!”

“That’s just how Ibiki wants us,” said Raidou smiling that blissful smile that was starting to annoy Genma.

“No, it’s how he wants you, not me! I supposed to be your best friend, not some fucking voyeuristic horny bastard who, who,” Genma broke off, not wanting to analyze the situation any further.

“My best friend is a fucking voyeuristic horny bastard, and I’m not upset about that. That’s just you, Genma, that’s always been you. It’s me a little bit too. You know I masturbate to your stories, and you did to mine this morning. It’s hot. Ibiki’s smoking hot. Shaving for him will be fucking hot. You should be hard. I’ll be hard. But you can get off because poor baby, you might not get to play with Ibiki while I need to save it cause I definitely will get to.”

“Ok, so, we’re going to go home, get naked, shave ourselves, and I’m going to masturbate while doing it?”

“You don’t have to Genma; you don’t have to do any of it. God, who put that stick up your ass?”

“Well, not Ibiki,” said Genma trying to get Raidou to smile again.

And there it was: god, that was an amazing smile! “You wish, Gen, you wish,” said Raidou, leaving the office. And, fuck, for just a second, he did wish, before he felt a wash of repulsion. He didn’t put things up his ass anymore; he was a dom now, not a horny gay teen that wanted to try everything. Fuck that guy! Why was he letting Raidou’s dom fuck up his life, fuck with his mind! But damn, that look he had, especially when you could see his scars and his muscles—dammit, that look he’d given him this morning, it had made Genma feel like a stupid teenager who didn’t know anything about anything. He’d looked so fucking superior, so experienced, so amused—look at this boy playing at dom, playing at knowing about sex, thinking he’s hot and experienced. And he’d touched that part of Genma that knew he was not just a shitty sub, but a phony dom, too. He didn’t push himself, didn’t explore his limits. He couldn’t put anyone in a cage, couldn’t make anyone bleed, couldn’t even touch a cane or whip—and sometimes when his subs cried, he could smell Raidou’s burnt skin, smell the acid, smell his blood, and he remembered how long it had taken for the emergency techs to get there, and how helpless he’d felt to do anything to stop his friend’s agony.

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! He was not going to rethink his life or relive the bad times. He was going to go get hot, show off his body, see his friend taken away like a slave, and then flirt his sexy naked, shaved ass off. Maybe he’d put on some leather over that thong and go pick himself up a nice little twink looking for a leather daddy, somebody too young and too poor to hang at Uchiha’s, somebody not in the scene that would think he was the baddest thing there was. Yeah, he’d go to Uchiha’s in fuck clothes. He’d only have to check them until Ibiki claimed Raidou—like that would take more than five minutes!

“Raidou, let’s get the fuck out here!” he shouted. “We sold that 400 dollar vase—that’s reason enough to take off early!”

“Gen! It’s two bloody hours before closing! We can’t just leave now!” said Raidou scandalized.

“Call Nobori, Raidou. Shaving your hairy ass is going to take a lot of time, and the kid could use the extra hours.”


Shaving Raidou’s ass didn’t take a lot of time—it was the legs that took the longest time. He didn’t masturbate while shaving Raidou, either—he ordered him out of the bathroom when finally there wasn’t a hair left on either of them except their eyelashes, eyebrows, deep in their noses, and on their scalps. He told Raidou he could wash up after all the hot water ran out—otherwise they might have to go consult a doctor for that erection of his. As for Genma, after an hour of sporting heavy wood, he needed maybe two minutes alone to get off. Just running his hand over his hairless chest, playing with his own nipple, then rubbing his smooth, hairless balls as he stroked himself—god, he’d come so hard, some of his jizz had almost cleared the tile line in the shower six feet up the wall. He collapsed against the wall panting, spent, but by the time he’d wiped down the shower, he was hard again.

Washing his hairless body, he kept remembering Raidou’s hands with the razor on him, the way his cock had kept rubbing and bumping against him, the way he’d seemed young again, happy, silly, like back when they and Hayate had had those crazy threesomes—damn it, he had forgotten how sexy Raidou could be. He’d thought of him as some sort of sexual cripple now for so long, he hadn’t seen what Ibiki had seen—Raidou was no desexed cripple. He wasn’t cool, cold, and rigid like a piece of finished glass, but molten hot, pliant, and ready to be blown into whatever shape his dom wanted. And ready to be blown—the boy had been basically hard on and off the whole damn day!

That question of Raidou’s—have you ever used your glassblowing skills to suck a guy off—fuck, he couldn’t seem to get that out of his mind. He wanted to feel Raidou blow him, but he wanted to try it himself, too. Doms didn’t give blowjobs; they got them. But he wanted to suck someone off, wanted to listen to someone go wild under him. Ibiki had screamed, Raidou said. Screamed? It just didn’t seem possible—he’d seen those fucking scars himself. After having been tortured like that, how could a blowjob have made him scream? Could he make someone scream with ecstasy, come so hard that they were left incapable of talking or moving? He would go pick someone up tonight, and he’d give that a shot. He’d blow them and their little vanilla mind.

And just thinking about it, thinking about sucking cock, something he hadn’t done in years, had him dripping already. Genma ran his finger over the precum and brought it to his mouth, licking. But it didn’t have that heady full tang of cum—god, he wanted to taste cum. He’d washed his own off the walls and down the shower drain, but he could spray again and lick his hand. Yea, he’d been a cocksucker in high school, he could suck dick with the best of them—he just chose not to. When had he started looking down on sucking cock? With Hayate—Hayate who had turned his back on being gay, on being bi. No, he wasn’t going to think about Hayate. He would think about sucking that cock of Raidou’s—god, what had Ibiki said to him—cocksucking is a reward? Christ, he’d never have thought to say that to a sub—that was fucking genius! But really—who would pass up a blowjob? Evidently Ibiki—evidently most people weren’t good enough for his cock. He didn’t want just any slutty bottom blowing him. What made him think his cock was so special? He’d seen it—it was nice, but hell nothing like that new house sub’s, Sai’s, that had caused one of the sensations on Saturday night.

Jesus—this weekend had been unfucking believable—Lee peeing in the hall, Kakashi with his face stuffed and taped, then Sasuke with the corset piercing, Kakashi shitting out those eggs, Gaara threatening to kill Neji, Shino showing off those bitchin’ tatts, Sai coming on command into a peanut bowl in the bar, then Sasuke and Naruto fighting—Naruto almost slicing open Sasori’s throat, Sasuke threatening to cut off Hidan’s nipple—Itachi wearing Kisame’s necklace and the wild speculation on that, Kakashi and Iruka’s fight, he himself almost getting the shit beat out of him by Kakashi for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and to top it all off, Raidou, his Raidou claimed by the baddest dom of all, Ibiki. And Monday, fucking Monday night when the club was dead, he and Raidou were going to go stand in the bar in little thongs, shaved and prettied up like a pair of slaveboys about to be auctioned off.

And suddenly he could see himself up on the stage at Uchiha’s chained, spread, displayed, fondled, beaten, and then put up for sale, blindfolded—dragged over to his master, made to suck his cock, drink it down, then pushed down on the floor for master to rest his boots on. A master that wouldn’t put up with his shit, that would make him submit, that might just let all the other unsuccessful bidders fuck his ass for fun. Master would pull his face into his cock, making him suck and suck and suck as his friends and even strangers thrust their cocks into his ass so unused to penetration, spraying load after load in him, until the cum was thick on his thighs, spreading on the floor under his knees. And thinking about that, Genma sank to his knees and came again, shaking and shuddering. He raised his hand to his lips and licked his own sperm clean imaging that faceless master standing above him with a crop. He groaned so loud that Raidou came into the bathroom, crying out, “Genma, are you hurt or just having a damn good time? How long does it take you to jack off?”

“Raidout, get out, or I’ll tell Ibiki you insisted on watching me masturbate in the shower.”

“You better fucking not! But come on, I need to shower now because I want to go out and get an enema. They have those at the local pharmacy, right?”

Genma wanted to scream—he’d just taken care of his hard on—twice, and now it was back again. He had a new respect for Ibiki—the man had spent twelve hours with a naked, horny Raidou and only screamed once. He got out of the shower, cursing, and when Raidou looked shocked at his erection, he just snapped, “Don’t say a fucking thing—just get in the god damn shower and leave me alone! I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Genma!”

“What the fuck is it now?”

“Do you want me to get one for you? Genma!” But Genma had fled down the hall to his room, slammed, and locked the door.


They drove to Uchiha’s instead of walking. Genma wanted to take the car with him, just in case whomever he was going get lucky with wanted to go to his own place. But it wasn’t until they were letting Yuura park the car that it occurred to Genma that none of the gay clubs would be hopping on a Monday night. And if this went as fast as he thought it would, none of them would even be open for hours. Christ, he’d have to see if he could get lucky here tonight, or he could just go home and jack off some more. When they got to the check in counter, Genma asked Aoba if Ibiki was in the club yet. Aoba grinned, saying, “He’s here.”

“Hey, Raidou, then you’ll be fine, won’t you?”

“Genma, he’s not in the bar,” said Raidou.

“What do you mean? Aoba just said he was here,” protested Genma, but he was getting a sinking feeling about this.

“I didn’t say he was in the bar, Genma,” said Aoba, smirking under those stupid glasses of his. Or at least tonight Genma thought they looked stupid, forgetting how he’d helped pick them out and insisted they were totally cool.

“He’ll be in the control room or watching on the monitors in one of the offices,” said Raidou, who already had his shoes and shirt off. He paused with his hands on the fly of his jeans, saying, “Go home if you want, Genma. It’s ok; I’m not scared.” But then when he had said that, he bit his lower lip.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” said Genma, jerking off his t-shirt. “You would pick a dom that’s kinky like this! I’m not pussying out on you, Raddie, so brace yourself for my hotness.”

Aoba and Raidou giggled at that, but by the time Raidou and Genma had stripped down to the little grey thongs with the tassels brushing their right thighs, Aoba was flushed.

“You guys shaved,” he said in a dumbfounded voice.

“Well, of course, shithead,” snapped Genma, “Do you think these mini-pouches would look good with a mountain of pubes spilling out of them?”

“Damn, Genma, wanna play tonight when I get off work?”

“You fucking wish!”

“Yea, I do, that’s why I asked,” said Aoba.

“Fuck off,” said Genma, annoyed. He wanted to scene, but not that badly.

“Don’t go anywhere, boys,” said Aoba as Raidou and Genma started to move away to the dining room. “Ibiki left you two a present. There’s some money riding on what it is, so come on, open it up now.”

Genma looked over at Raidou, confused. You two?

But there was a box, about the size of a shirt box, on the counter, and it clearly said on it, Raidou and Genma. Genma and Raidou looked at each other, and then each using one hand they lifted the box lid together. There was a note on top of some tissue paper. It read:

1. No alcoholic drinks.
2. Charge drinks and food to my account.
3. Raidou may not come.
4. No anal penetration of any sort.
5. No touching anyone but each other for any reason.
6. Stay together at all times.
7. Do not talk to anyone but the staff and each other.
8. Think of me.
9. Have fun.

Genma’s cock went hard before he hit number 5 in his reading, and in that ridiculous little thong, that meant it bulged out and the tip of his cock popped out of the little sack in front. He adjusted it, but the damn thong was small, and if he kept his cock covered by the fabric, it lifted away from his skin obscenely and forced the strap between his cheeks even deeper into his asscrack. Mother of god! He had permission to blow Raidou and be blown—hell, they could 69 right there in the bar. But his thought derailed as the tissue paper was pulled away by Raidou.

Two collars.

Dog collars.

Baby blue leather dog collars with gold and rhinestone buckles and blue crystal studs. And two gold tags over the collars, fucking dog tags, the type you slide over the collar. One said, “My name is Raidou. I am the property of Ibiki and Genma.” The other said, “My name is Genma. I am the property of Ibiki and Raidou.” Fuck! No fucking way!

And Raidou, Raidou was crying—confusing Genma and making his chest and head hurt. And he looked over at Genma, his face full of happiness and fear, and Genma knew that Raidou wanted this, wanted him and Ibiki, wanted them both. And somehow Ibiki had known and trapped him, caught him, hooked him in and was going to wrap him up in a baby blue collar and give him to Raidou as a present. And he, Shiranui Genma, had to decide, decide now, this second, what he was going to do.

And Raidou suddenly was down on his knees, looking up through his lashes at Genma. His hand reached out and jerked on the end of one of those ties, spilling out Genma’s rigid cock and balls. And then Raidou’s mouth sucked in his cockhead and kept going—sending Genma’s dick right down the back of his throat. He looked up at Genma with his mouth around his penis, and then he just sucked in hard in sharp pulsing bursts so intense they hurt, like the tightest virgin ass was coming around his cock, like the way hot wax felt when it hit you, like the kiss of a riding crop. And he didn’t stop, and Genma threw back his head and screaming, coming like he’d been the one in a cockring for hours. Nothing, nothing had ever got him off so fast and so hard! The lobby seemed to be swaying, and someone was setting off fireworks because he was seeing flashes of pink and green. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter, whimpering. Then Raidou was helping him sit on the floor, telling him he would be ok, buckling the little collar around his neck. He could feel his bare asscheeks on the cold tile floor, and he wouldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t open his eyes. Then Raidou was pressing a bottle of water in his hand. Genma drank and felt a little better, but he kept his eyelids down. That was fucking low! Raidou hadn’t given him a choice at all!

“Gen? Gen? I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Somehow that snapped him out of his stupor, and his eyes flew open, and he reached out and dumped the bottle of water over Raidou, saying, “Yea, well, in an hour when I’m sitting down, you can do that again and make it up to me, you fucking asshole!”

And then Raidou was laughing, but it was too loud to be just him, and Genma registered that Aoba, Sasori, Deidara, two regular members, Oburo and his sub Kagari, and that big Arabic guy that sometimes worked for Sasori whose name he didn’t remember, were all standing around Raidou and him, laughing.

But then Raidou was pressing his little powder blue collar with the silly rhinestone buckle in his hand and leaning in for a kiss. The feel of his tongue was new yet somehow familiar, as if his lips and mouth remembered back ten years ago, back when they were teens, back to the crazy things that three horny teens could do to each other. Raidou was wet from the water he’d dumped on him, but the feel of his wet skin just made Genma remember the shower and the shaving and how tempted he’d been by this body now in his arms.

And then Genma jerked his mouth away from Raidou’s, suddenly turning him over his lap. He fastened the collar around Raidou’s neck, and then began to spank that ass. “Genma,” protested Raidou, twisting and squirming on his lap but not seriously struggling.

“Shut up! You know you deserve this! I’m just warming your ass up for Ibiki,” he said,
smacking down hard with his hand again and again. And then the dom in him took over, and his rage over feeling trapped into wearing this ridiculous pale blue collar gave him energy as well, and sitting on the tile floor in front of the coat check, he gave one of the finest spankings of his life. He didn’t stop until Raidou was quietly crying, flinching, his ass hot, flame red, and his own hand aching. “Get up,” he ordered. Raidou lifted himself off Genma’s lap shakily. “Ok, no, just kneel on the floor there,” he said, “let me get this thong back on me, and I’ll help you up.” Christ, he just couldn’t stay mad at Raidou, no matter what!

He tied his thong, keeping his eyes on Raidou, trying not to look or listen to the people around them. He rose on his knees to and put his arms around Raidou, whispering in his ear, “They all want that sexy ass of yours, you know. It looks so gorgeous all red like that. They wish they were the ones who put those hickies all over you, not Ibiki. Come on, baby, get up.” He pulled Raidou to his feet, and they hugged and then kissed again, rubbing their cocks against each other. Genma broke the kiss and pulled away. He was not going to cream his little thong—he’d already come in such an embarrassingly short amount of time, it was practically a premature ejaculation. “Come on, Raddie, let’s go spend Ibiki’s money. If I’m going to sit on the floor in a collar, I might as well be eating lobster and filet mignon while doing it.”

“Genma, we can’t order that! You know what the prices are like here,” hissed Raidou.

“Raidou, if I’m going to be a boy toy, I’m going to eat all the sugar my daddy can give me,” said Genma. “Now let’s kneel and grovel in front of Sasori, so we can get some dinner. I can’t live off your cum, you know.”

“Wait, the contract and schedule!” And then, with the envelope containing them tucked in the waist of his thong, Raidou grabbed Genma’s hand, smiling at him. Sasori was there waiting by the door to the dining room, already holding the little card with Ibiki’s list in his pale white fingers as he talked to the man in the keffiyah. Deidara, Oboru, and Kagari didn’t seem to be around any more. After nodding at each other, Gemna and Raidou approached Sasori and together knelt down and touched their heads to the floor in perfect unison. Even as he was horrified at what he was doing, he felt a touch of pride, knowing that they looking amazing and that every gesture they did together in unison only made them look sexier and more desirable. They’d been friends and business partners for so long, it seemed easy to move together. The thought of how it would look if they practiced, if they weren’t holding hands to indicate to each other when to move, surfaced in Genma’s mind. He pushed it back down ruthlessly. This was a one night thing, one night only. A voice in his head laughed, and when they both said, “Master Sasori,” together, Genma’s voice came out subdued and submissive, instead of having that usual edge of defiance.

“No more shows in the foyer, ever,” said Sasori sternly. “I’m fining Ibiki. Those door open on a public street, you morons!”

“Yes, Master,” they said together humbly, both a little shocked that they had forgotten about the fines for sexual acts in view of the doors.

“Follow me,” he said. He led them up to the little stage in the dining room where two pillows and been put for each of them to kneel on. “Bon Appetite, boys.”

“Thank you, Master,” they said. Deidara came over to take their order and tease them a little. But it really wasn’t that bad, thought Genma. He and Raidou had eaten many a meal sprawled out on the floor of the living room in their underwear, and really there was hardly anyone here at all. Mondays were always pretty dead. Chouji’s food was fabulous, and since the staff hadn’t been given any orders to the contrary by Ibiki, their drinks came in glasses, not bowls, and their food came with silverware. But the lobster and the melted butter were sticky, and they had been given no napkins. Raidou had been the one to start licking his hands clean, then Genma’s, then his chin and chest. And then somehow Genma was licking Raidou’s chin and chest, then pinning him down and sucking on his nipples.

The pain of a riding crop across his shoulder was so unexpected, Genma let go of Raidou’s nipple with a yelp and his head turned up to look up at Ibiki—a mistake that earned him another lash. But he made no noise at this one and simply dropped prone on the floor before Ibiki’s boot. Terror ripped through him. Suddenly it seemed unbelievable, astounding that he had dared to suck on Raidou’s nipples, to kiss him, to shoot his come down his throat. In that one forbidden glance, he’d seen Ibiki wore black leather pants and knee high boots—and that was it. His scarred chest and head were bare for anyone here to see. And his eyes, oh god, those eyes just seemed to strip his mind bare. But Genma’s cock was hard against the floor of the stage, and he peeked over at Raidou and saw he was licking and kissing Ibiki’s boot. That seemed like a good move, and Genma suddenly wondered if Ibiki would take his anger out on Raidou. It had to suck that your slave was saying “I love you” over breakfast, and then at dinnertime he was sucking down someone else’s cum, kissing them, and getting his nipples licked.

He felt Ibiki bending down and, watching out of the corner of his eye, saw Ibiki clip a leash to the ring on Raidou’s collar at the same time as he heard the click of one snapping on to his own.

“Did you have fun, boys?” asked Ibiki.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” they said together as if they had in fact practiced. But that was what good subs were supposed to say and say promptly—and Genma found himself wanting desperately for the first time in his life to be a good sub. Would Ibiki see Raidou’s actions as a betrayal and take it out on him? Genma didn’t care if he suffered, but Raidou couldn’t, no it might mean he never had sex again. Surely Ibiki wouldn’t hurt Raidou—no, he wouldn’t, he had given them that list!

“Did you think of me, boys?”

“Yes, Master,” they said again in unison.

“Genma, you pleased me when you punished Raidou for forgetting the house rules. Next time you two earn me a fine, however, you’ll both get a beating on this stage, understand?”

“Yes, Master,” they said. And then he was moving, and they were scrambling not to look like fools and to crawl after him fast enough not to fall on their faces and be dragged along. But Genma was still in shock over the feelings of relief and, well, pleasure, that had jolted through him when Ibiki had said he was pleased with him. Had any dom ever said that to him? And then they were in the hall, and Genma felt a wave of, well, not quite panic, but extreme anxiety at the thought that Ibiki might take the stairs. He wouldn’t be able to crawl up the stairs on his hands and knees quickly—he’d fall, he’d hurt himself and maybe Raidou or even Ibiki--and they’d all look like fools and be the laughingstock of the club. But Ibiki went to the elevator, and Genma felt another one of those bursts of relief and pleasure. Dear god, he was happy because he was going upstairs in an elevator in a thong and dog collar. Genma, Genma, what the hell has happened to you?

But then the elevator door slid shut, and Raidou put his face down on Ibiki’s black boot, saying with tears running down his face, “Oh, Master Ibiki, Master Ibiki, thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much!”

And Ibiki snapped his fingers, and when Raidou looked up, he smiled down at him and gestured with two fingers. Raidou rose up on his knees, throwing his arms around Ibiki’s waist, and Ibiki’s hands petted his head. Genma could see it all reflected in the silver metal of the elevator doors, and the look of love on Ibiki’s face, made him close his eyes. They loved each other! What the hell was he doing here on the end of a chain with them? Dear god, how would this ever work?

Ibiki snapped his fingers, and Genma’s head jerked up before he could stop it. His eyes met Ibiki’s, and Ibiki just said, “Genma,” but Genma didn’t understand. Then the hand with the leashes on its wrist, the hand not stroking Raidou’s head, patted Ibiki’s hip. And he rose up on his knees and put his head tentatively against that hip covered in black leather. The elevator binged that they were there, and Ibiki leaned over and flicked the emergency hold switch. It wasn’t connected to an alarm, and in the silence and stillness of the elevator, Raidou’s sniffles and labored breathing were easy to hear. And Gemna felt that hand of Ibiki’s press his head against his hip, his fingers massaging him, and Ibiki said, “I love you too, Raidou. I love how Genma loves you. Now, are we ready to go to our room, both of you?”

And Genma kissed the smooth leather over Ibiki’s hip and shuddered before saying, “I’m ready, Master.”

And then he heard Raidou’s voice, a little wobbly still, say, “I’m ready too, Master.”

“Good boys,” said Ibiki, flicking the emergency stop off and pushing the button to open the door. Genma and Raidou dropped down to their hands and knees, moving out of Master’s way. He exited the elevator, and they followed, trying to keep up with the pull of their leashes. And as Genma crawled over the floor after Ibiki, he felt so happy he couldn’t really understand it, couldn’t think about it anymore. Fuck thinking, he decided, I’m just going to feel tonight and see what happens. Maybe I’ll get to suck someone’s cock like I wanted, maybe if I’m good, I’ll even get to suck Ibiki’s. He said he was pleased with me and called me a good boy, maybe if I beg nicely, he’ll let me?

And so it was that Shiranui Genma was already Ibiki’s bitch even before he walked into the room where he would, for the first time, gladly and eagerly, spread his asscheeks for his Master’s cock.

XXXXXX
Thanks Ashcat for the email with the typos! Thanks everyone for the many reviews and votes!
If you want to see the collar that inspired the ones in the chapter it's at the insanely long link below. It was messing up the way the chapter posted, so you have to cut and paste each line and merge them, which might be too much of a pain. Thanks Travellyr for figuring out why the chapter posted all weird!

http://www.petsmart.com/global/product_detail.jsp?

PRODUCT%3C%3Eprd_id=845524441817050&FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374302025649&ASS

ORTMENT%3C%3East_id=2534374302023689&bmUID=1186021481935&itemNo=16&In=Dog&N

=2025649&Ne=2

Allys, you are going to love the asscake, but I haven't yet worked it into the conversation. I was going to have Gaara and Shika talk about it, but it didn't happen. Then I thought Raidou and Genma could talk about it, but that didn't quite work either. But here's what it is . . .

Chouji makes a cake that replicates the dom's ass. He puts something red under the cheeks of the cake and something he finds appropriate down the asshole (lemon, bavarian cream, chocolate cream, cherry filling). The sub sometimes gets to take a crop to the cake, may get to fuck it or rim it, depending on his dom (of course on stage in the dining room). Chouji only makes them for couples he approves of and feels are in love, so it's a big thing to get one. Iruka and Kakashi got one for Kakashi's collaring, but Zabuza and Haku didn't. I'm kind of inclined to say no, Sasori and Deidara didn't either, but what do you guys think? Shino did of course for his dead lover. I thought about the cake having balls and cock sort of extending down, but that would make it awfully hard to fuck. Any and all opinions on if the cakes go into the story, what they should be like, and who should get them, would be very welcome!

Hestia