The Traveling Pussy

Chapter 9: Temari’s Visit

We were sitting on the floor around my coffee table just finishing eating when the doorbell rang. I was glad that Ibiki had gone into the bedroom when I had been cooking and put on his boxers, t-shirt, and head scarf. I didn’t care about his scars, but I didn’t want his feelings hurt by whoever was at the door. He’d gone through my closet and picked out a rather childish white ruffled dress I’d forgotten about for me to wear. I’d had a doll that had that exact dress on as a child—a simple short sleeved top of thin white cotton, but then the dress sort of exploded out into a mass of ruffles. I’d bought it one day when drunk and shopping after a too-much-fun lunch. I’d been feeling sentimental about my childhood and tipsy enough to think it looked good.

When Ibiki had brought the dress out and had me kneel with my hands raised to slide the dress over my head, I realized the dress made me feel incredibly vulnerable. The thin white fabric of the bodice did nothing to hide my breasts. For some reason, having an almost transparent white fabric over my breasts made me more conscious of them than when they were naked. My nipples swelled, their aroused state clear as they poked against the thin white cloth. Below the breasts, the dress just expanded out in a mass of ruffles. It ended rather high on my thighs. The ruffles added enough to the fabric so my pubic hair and buttocks were not visible like my upper body was. Ibiki didn’t bring me any panties of course. I had to be careful in how I moved or sat if I was to avoid flashing whoever was at the door.

At the ring of the doorbell, Ibiki took charge. “Sit in that chair,” he said, pointing to a rather uncomfortable hard wooden chair with no arms that sat against the wall facing the door. I stood up and went and sat on it. I never sat in this chair. It was always the last chair to be sat in at a party, and I’d probably stood on it more than I’d ever sat on it, to get things from high shelves or to hang pictures or change light bulbs--just stuff like that. I sat on it, legs tight together, so I wouldn’t flash the visitor, and with my hands folded in my lap. There was nothing I could do to hide the state of my nipples, but I really didn’t care if they showed. Polite people don’t stare at your breasts or talk about them anyway.

Ibiki opened the door. I couldn’t see who was there, but it was a female, and she was clearly shocked to see him since she gave a little cry of surprise and said, “Ibiki! Ibiki, you are here! Then my little brother is in danger from this, this—"

“No, Gaara is in no danger,” said Ibiki. Oh shit—Temari, Gaara’s sister, here! I’d never met her—what was she doing here? She was supposed to be a very scary kunoichi. “Please, come in, Temari-san and tell us why you are here.”

Ibiki stood aside from the door letting me glimpse the blonde ninja in the doorway. She was blushing a bright red. I bowed my head in greeting but said nothing. She bowed back and said, “Ah, no, I’m sorry, I can’t intrude upon your meal like this. Please forgive me. I was merely stopping by to invite the lady of the home to a private party at the Yellow Flash Pub tomorrow night. Both of you, please feel welcome to join me, my two brothers, and many of our good friends in Konoha for a little celebration."

Ibiki held out his hand to me, and I immediately jumped up and walked over his side. We both bowed and thanked Temari for her invitation. After some awkward formal farewells, she left. Well the door shut behind her, Ibiki leaned back against it and stared at me. I felt dreadfully guilty although I’d never met Temari before, never expected her to visit me, nor to invite me to a party. I knelt down before Ibiki, bowed down, and kissed the tops of his feet.

When his hand fisted in my hair and jerked my head up to the level of his crotch, I was shaking with nerves. I keep my eyes closed and braced myself. I was expecting to be slapped. Instead I felt him push my face into his crotch, rub it against his erect cock, and say roughly, “See that? Open your eyes, dammit.”

I opened my eyes to stare at the bulge his erection made in his black boxers. He used the hand not in my hair to pull himself out of the slit of his boxers. His cock sprung forward and wacked into my left cheek.

“This is the only cock you are allowed to look at,” he said wrapping his fist around the base of his penis and smacking it against my left cheek, “the only cock you are allowed to touch,” he added now moving his cock to the other side of my head to slap against my right cheek, “and the only cock that you can suck,” he concluded pressing his cock against my lips. I opened them and began to suck him eagerly, wanting to show him this was the only cock I wanted in my mouth.

He jerked my head forward using my hair until my lips were right against his fist on his own cock. He was long enough that the head of his cock was pushing into my throat just a little bit. “Do you understand that?” pulling my head back and off his cock, so I could talk.

“Yes, Master Ibiki, oh yes, I do,” I said incredibly thrilled and aroused at this blatant show of jealousy and dominance. I reached out with my tongue to try to pull his penis back into my mouth, but he held my head back from it. He let his other fist slowly slide up and down that bit of flesh I wanted in me, teasing me.

“Now you’re a clever kunoichi, tell me some of the rules I haven’t covered,” said Ibiki.

“Master Ibiki’s cock is the only cock I can lick,” I said looking up into his eyes and putting my tongue out, trying to convince him that letting me lick would be a good thing.

“Yes,” he said, letting my tongue connect with his cock for only a few little licks before pushing my head back again and demanding, “Another one.”

“Master Ibiki’s cock is the only cock I can nibble on,” I said, trying to go with an oral theme, but as I looked up into his face, I could tell I needed to get more creative. “Master Ibiki is the only one I can watch stroke himself, and your beautiful cock, Master Ibiki, is the only one that can cum in my mouth, on my lips, on my breasts.”

He was slowly stroking himself again, and I was getting myself worked up just describing some of my favorite fantasies about him. “Your cum, Master Ibiki, is the only cum I can taste, the only cum I can swallow, I can feel on my breasts, I can feel on my back, on my ass, in my ass, in my pussy.”

I was breathing heavily with my mouth open now, shaking with desire, but Ibiki’s face still looked completely calm, completely empty of any emotion, except maybe determination. But the fist sliding up and down his erection wasn’t stopping, and I took that as a good sign. “Your balls, Master Ibiki, are the only ones I can look at, I can touch, I can lick, I can take into my mouth. Your ass, Master Ibiki, is the only one I can lust after, I can touch, I can feel, I can lick, I can kiss, I can bite,” I paused, and since his fist seemed to have started moving just a bit faster on his cock, I decided to risk getting a few things wrong.

“Your ass, Master Ibiki, is the only ass I can mark, I can bruise, I can spank, I can spread out to show me that little vulnerable hole. Your little anus, Master Ibiki, is the only one I can push my fingers into, I can finger fuck, I can—“

His cock slammed back into my throat, and he moved both hands to my head to force himself all the way back. I struggled to breathe, and my gag reflex kicked in, and my throat helplessly tried to force his cock out. He used his hands to hold me head down like that for what seemed like an agonizingly long time. When he released my head, I gasped for air and struggled not to throw up. I wasn’t surprised when he rapidly moved away from the door and out of my line of vision. A guy has to be a lot closer to climax before he’ll let you vomit on him.

I managed to get control of myself, when I heard Ibiki say, “Come over here and take a drink.” Staying on my knees, I turned to see him standing beside the coffee table with a glass on water in his hand. I didn’t bother to stand, but just crawled over to kneel at his feet again, looking up at him and trying to show by my face that I was sorry and wanted to please him.

He tilted the glass for me, and I drank from it without touching it with my hands. When I pulled back to show that I didn’t want to drink any more, he set the glass down on the table. I moved my head to start sucking him again, but he said, “Go in the bedroom on your hands and knees, pull your night table drawer out and bring it back in here. You aren’t allowed to stand up.”

Oh god, oh god—I knew what was in that drawer. It had three vibrators, two types of nipple clamps, a leather spanker, assorted condoms, lube, a fur-lined blindfold, some fur-lined cuffs, assorted straps and chains, some silk scarves, a butt plug, a strap-on harness and dildo, and god knows what other toys and junk I’d shoved into it. At any rate, it would be giving Ibiki plenty of things to torment me with, and I want to give him no reason to make him use them for pain, not pleasure.

It took me a while to walk back into the room on my knees with the drawer in my hands. I could hear him moving in the kitchen as I approached the door back into the living room. When I crawled into the living room, he was sitting in that stupid, uncomfortable wooden chair, and the coffee table was completely cleared. “Bring it to me,” he said.

Walking on my knees, I moved before him and then held out the drawer and bowed my head. He took the drawer from me and said, “You can kiss my feet if you want.”

I immediately put my face down to his feet and began to kiss and lick first one foot, then the other. His feet weren’t hairy and were surprisingly unmarked, unscarred. He had the ninja tan line on his feet from the open-toed sandals most of us wore despite the fact they made your toes more vulnerable to attack. The cracks between his toes seemed incredibly sexy, and I tried to slide my tongue into them without success. “On your hands and knees on the coffee table, showing me your ass,” he said.

I froze with my tongue above his toes and trembled. I felt my center clench and release with excitement as I turned around and climbed up on the coffee table. I positioned myself on the coffee table with my knees spread apart, my ass jutting up in the air. The short white ruffled dress had slide back down to the small of my back and hung down below my stomach, a white fluffy frame of ruffles for my exposed sex and buttocks.

Then I felt the leather spanker crack down on my right ass cheek painfully. Then on the left, on my crack, on the right top, then middle, then bottom, then the left bottom, middle, and top. I was crying and sobbing, now, struggling not to move, not to roll away, or put my hands up to protect myself. I couldn't tell where he was hitting me now, only that I was in pain, and he was angry with me. I sobbed, saying, "Oh Master Ibiki, please forgive me, please let me try to please you, oh god," and other sorts of things. The leather spanker smacked against me again and again. I was in agony, humiliated. I was going to disgrace myself and put my hands up to protect myself and make him more angry. I gripped the edge of the table, trying to force myself to take the pain.

Mercifully the spanking slowed and then stopped, and the sound of my crying seemed to fill the room now that the cracks of the leather hitting my skin weren’t heard. Then a finger plunged into my vagina. It slid in easily since I was very wet and aroused, my lips swollen and pulling apart my flesh to make it easer for him to penetrate me. Immediately I clamped my muscles around his finger and trying to pull it deeper into me, but he pulled it out.

“You seem pretty wet for a girl that’s just been spanked. You seem pretty aroused. I don’t think you’re taking my rules seriously. I don't think you are taking this punishment seriously. Let’s see if those nipples of yours are aroused. He moved around in front of me, and he said, “Up on your knees only, show me those tits.”

Bitting my lip, I raised my tear-stained face to look at him, pleading with my eyes. I knelt on the table and put my hands under my breasts to lift them up and offer them to him. He reached out and tore the thin white cotton bodice apart, exposing my breasts. The dress seemed ridiculous now, two little sleeves and a mass of ruffles starting below my shamefully naked breasts and two very aroused, erect nipples.

“Naughty girl, look at you, look how you’re aroused after you’ve been spanked. Or are these nipples aroused at the thought of seeing Gaara tomorrow?” asked Ibiki, brutally crushing each nipple between his thumbs and his index fingers.

“No, Master Ibiki, no, these nipples are erect for you, only you,” I said trying not cry out from the pain, but not able to hold back a moan. He didn’t release me, and I felt my body spasm in something getting close to an orgasm. My head fell back, and I pulled my breasts back, making the pain even more intense, and my pussy quivered and released a burst of fluid I could feel sliding inside me.

“Back on all fours,” he said at last releasing my nipples and pushing my shoulders down. I could only moan and pant. Then I felt him snapping nipple clamps on each nipple. I cried out and shook even more, very close to cumming now, contracting even more. My cries of pleasure must have told him how close I was because he moved around behind me, placed his cock at my wet, quivering entrance, and thrust into me. One hand clamped on my hip, helping him to stay inside me as he pulled back and thrust again. His other slipped around under me and jerked sharply on the little chain connected to each clamp on my nipples.

I screamed and shook as my body went into an orgasm. He released the chain and putting both hands on my hips began to quicken his pace. With each thrust, the pain in my sore buttocks from the spanking intensified as his body slapped against mine. My breasts were two centers of pain, and I couldn’t hold myself up any more and collapsed down against the coffee table. The pleasure shaking my pussy, that addictive feeling of having no control as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through my center was intensified by the burning feeling on my ass and the white-hot searing pain in my nipples. I couldn’t take it and frantically rubbed my breasts on the glass of the table top, trying to rub the tight metal clamps off my nipples. The one on my left breast came off, and with the decrease in pain, my orgasm intensified. I wasn’t capable of thinking any more about how to move, I was just sobbing and shaking and trying to survive the sensations in every part of my body.

Ibiki pulled out of my vagina and forced himself into my ass, using nothing but my own juices to lubricate me. This new stimulation was too much, too much, and I screamed the hysterical scream of a woman who thought she was dying. But he drove into my ass, hard and deep, and started to cum in me. I lay pinned beneath him on the glass table, my head hanging forward to the floor, the blood rushing into it probably the only thing keeping me from passing out from my overloaded senses.

The sound of people screaming seemed to bring me back to my body from that state of impossible stimulation, that incredible state of both pleasure and pain at levels that seemed unendurable, to something more like a normal orgasm. Something was weird. I grasped and shook and felt the other nipple clamp pop off, and more deep throbs of pleasure inside me. I tried to figure out what was so weird about the screams. Then it hit me along with another tremor of pleasure. It wasn’t me or Ibiki screaming. Oh god, it was my neighbor, Mrs. Nagatomi, who hated me and was always complaining when my sex got too loud. She’d been real happy with me since I’d taken the job on the gate. I guess I’d blown two months of good feeling. But who the hell was she arguing with? When she suddenly let out a shriek of fear that cut off abruptly, my brain was pretty much back in my head and able to think.

The other voice could be heard saying, “Calm down, madam, calm down.” I started to laugh, recognizing Shino's voice now. “Oh, god, Ibiki,“ I said, “he used his bugs on her. I’m going to be kicked out and homeless thanks to you. But oh my god, you are so worth it, love, so worth it.”

To my delight, I felt Ibiki start laughing too; his body shaking against mine, stimulating me to start cumming again, clenching and shaking beneath him. Ibiki stood up, holding me against his body, still impaled on his cock, and started walking to the bedroom. “Well, then,” he said in my ear, “I guess I’ll have to take you home with me and chain you to my bed.”

I heard the bedroom door slammed shut behind us, as I started to shake and quiver yet again in his arms. I realized I had found my true master.