A/N: Another 4k, what can I say? I just love Ino.
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I caught the intoxicated and blissfully drunk girl's chin, trying to tilt her face up to meet my eyes.
"Ready for your punishment, little flower?" I asked, my thumb running along her plump lower lip. The rosy lipstick—what remained of it—smeared under the pressure, leaving a streak across her flushed skin.
Nothing. No flicker of recognition in those hazy green eyes. Just a soft, breathy giggle. She swayed back and forth as if riding the current, that dumb smile never wavering.
You'd think someone from the Yamanaka clan, a clan built on mental prowess, on controlling minds and navigating consciousness, would have iron control over their own sensations. That they'd be able to shake off pleasure-drunk stupor with ease.
But that was the complete opposite of how it worked.
The Yamanaka techniques required extreme sensitivity to mental and emotional states. They trained their minds to be open, receptive, empathetic to the smallest shifts in consciousness. That same openness that made Ino good at her clan's jutsu also made her devastatingly vulnerable to overwhelming sensation.
She wasn't weak. She was over-attuned.
Add to that a body that responded to touch like a flower opening to sunlight, teenage hormones running wild, and an orgasm intense enough to white out conscious thought—
Yeah. No wonder my little flower's brain had completely fried up.
Ino's pink tongue peeked out, one swipe, two, and she had coaxed my thumb past her lips. She closed them around the digit and sucked, her eyes still unfocused, that blissed-out smile curving around my thumb.
Fuck.
The sight was obscene. This carefully raised clan princess, kneeling on the floor of her family's shop with her legs spread inelegantly, clothes disheveled, face a mess of tears and ruined makeup, sucking on my thumb like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The wet heat of her mouth, the gentle suction, the way her tongue moved against the pad of my thumb, it all went straight to my already aching cock.
"I'll take that as a yes," I said, my voice rougher than I intended.
I stood, keeping my thumb in her mouth, feeling her continue that obscene sucking. My other hand went to my pants, fumbling with the fastening. It was awkward work, one-handed, especially with blood pounding in my ears and my attention split between the button and the girl literally worshipping my thumb with her mouth.
Come on, come on—
The button finally gave way. I shoved my pants and underwear down just enough to free my cock, and the relief was immediate. It sprang free, hard and aching, the head already slick.
Ino's half-lidded eyes tracked downward immediately, fixing on my dick with the single-minded focus of someone still too drunk on pleasure to think properly. She giggled—actually giggled—and reached up with both hands.
Her fingers wrapped around my shaft, and I hissed at the contact.
Her hands were cold at first, softer than a kunoichi's hands had any right to be. Unlike most shinobi whose hands were calloused from weapons training, Ino's palms were relatively smooth. Her training focused on the mind, not the body. The Mind-Body Switch technique didn't require rough hands, just a sharp mind and steady chakra control.
But she'd had other training. Training I'd given her.
Even in her current state, muscle memory kicked in. Her hands began moving, pumping my shaft with the rhythm I'd taught her during those clandestine moments in quiet corners where no one would see. Her grip was clumsy right now, uncoordinated, but the intent was there.
All while she kept sucking my thumb with wet, obscene enthusiasm.
"Good girl," I murmured, and watched her eyes light up even through the haze. "Such a good little flower, remembering your lessons."
She made a pleased sound around my thumb, her hands moving faster, more eagerly. The dual sensation was enough to make me breathe heavily.
I looked down at her, really looked.
Kneeling there with her knees spread, no grace, no dignity. Her purple skirt was hiked up, showing the mesh shorts beneath that were still soaked through. Her top was twisted, one shoulder exposed, the high collar pulled askew. That exposed midriff was flushed pink, marked with red spots from my fingers.
Her platinum blonde hair was a disaster, the ponytail half-undone with strands stuck to her tear-stained face. Drool glistened on her chin from where it escaped around my thumb.
She looked nothing like the Yamanaka princess. Nothing like the carefully composed girl who smiled prettily at customers and kept up appearances.
She looked like a mess.
A hot, sinful, utterly debauched mess.
And it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
I licked my lips, then used my grip on her chin—thumb still in her mouth—to guide her face closer. Closer to my cock, which her hands were still working with increasing enthusiasm.
"Be good," I said softly. "And give it a kiss."
Her hazy eyes blinked up at me, confusion flickering across her features.
I'd gotten her to give me handjobs before. Cultivated her how to grip, how to stroke, how to make me feel good with just her soft hands. But we'd never gone further than that.
A blowjob was different. Taking a cock into her mouth was something I'd assumed a girl like Ino—raised proper, concerned with her image, so prim and proper—would find revolting. Something she'd refuse.
But right now, she was deep in the haze. And I could work with instinct.
"Just a little kiss," I coaxed, my thumb stroking her delicate tongue. "Be a good girl for me."
She hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. Some part of her brain was trying to process the request, trying to reconcile it with... something. Propriety, maybe. Or just confusion about what I was asking.
"My good little flower," I continued, my voice gentle. "You've been so perfect. You already promised to be good, remember? Come on, just one kiss."
Any instinctual reticence or aversion she may have had wavered. I could see it in the way her eyes unfocused again, in the way she leaned slightly closer.
"That's it," I encouraged. "Just like you kiss my fingers. Just like you kiss me."
She leaned in, her lips brushing against the head of my cock in the lightest, most tentative touch.
Holy fuck. It was…. it was a bit different than Naruko's lips. Naruko's lips were…. it was — No! Don't think about that blonde, focus on this one.
"Perfect," I breathed. "So perfect. See? That wasn't bad at all, was it?"
She blinked up at me, and I saw a small smile curve her lips. Then she giggled—that same drunk, happy sound—and I couldn't help it and pushed my hip, pressing the tip against her plush lips, my hand on her chin.
"Good girl," I praised her as if it was her doing; Ino was too far gone to make a difference. Her smile widened. "Again. Kiss it again."
This time, she didn't hesitate as much. Another soft press of lips, then another. Each one growing slightly less tentative, slightly more willing.
I kept praising her between kisses, kept telling her how good she was, how perfect, how much I loved seeing her like this. And with each word, she relaxed more, accepted more.
Soon she was pressing kisses along my shaft while she held on it with both her hands, keeping that awkward pumping rhythm, her expression one of pleased concentration, like she was working on arranging a particularly tricky bouquet.
While she worked, I slid another finger into her mouth alongside my thumb. She accepted it easily, sucking on both digits now, her tongue sliding between them.
I pushed deeper, testing her limits, feeling the wet heat of her mouth, the give of her tongue. She made small sounds around my fingers but didn't pull away, just kept sucking, kept accepting.
I added a third finger, really filling her mouth now, and began moving them in and out in a rhythm that made her eyes flutter. Drool escaped the corners of her lips, dripping down her chin to add to the mess already there.
Her jaw stretched to accommodate the intrusion, and I could feel her tongue trying to work around the digits, trying to please even as I effectively bullied the small muscle.
"That's it," I murmured. "Just like that. You're doing so well."
After I deemed her prepared enough, when she was used to my play, I withdrew my fingers, which were slick with her saliva, connected to her lips by thin strands that broke and fell to add to the drool on her chin.
I used my now-free hand to guide my cock to her lips, replacing my fingers with the head.
"Open," I instructed softly.
And as the obedient girl she was, she did, her lips parting, and I pushed inside.
Heaven.
The wet heat of her mouth enveloped the head of my cock, her tongue pressing against the underside automatically. It was tighter than her hands, hotter, wetter—everything I'd been aching for since that goddamn massage from Kushina. I almost burst then and there.
Ino's eyes widened, blinking up at me with sudden confusion as the haze began to lift slightly. Her brow furrowed, like she wasn't quite sure how to process having a dick in her mouth.
"Shh," I soothed, my hand moving to cup her cheek. "It's okay. This is your punishment, remember? You said you didn't care what it was."
She made a small sound, half-question, half-protest.
"Just use your mouth and tongue," I continued, keeping my voice gentle, encouraging. "Like you did with my fingers. Like a lollipop. You just need to make me feel good, little flower. That's all. Can you do that for me?"
The haze was still there, clinging to the edges of her consciousness. Combined with the praise, the relatively reasonable explanation, and her desperate need to please me—
She started sucking. Calling it that was a bit of a stretch, but I would do with what I have.
Tentatively at first, just gentle suction on the head, her tongue moving uncertainly against the sensitive underside. But it was enough to make me groan.
"Good," I breathed. "So good. Just like that."
But my cock was substantially larger than my fingers, and she was clearly struggling. Her cheeks hollowed with effort, her jaw stretched wide, and I could feel her trying to figure out what to do with her tongue when there was so much filling her mouth.
"Relax your jaw," I instructed, my hand moving to the back of her head, fingers tangling in what remained of her ponytail. "Don't try to do too much at once. Just breathe through your nose and let me guide you."
I applied gentle pressure, pushing slightly deeper, and felt her tense.
"Easy," I murmured. "Relax. Trust me."
She made a small, uncertain sound, but I felt her jaw loosen slightly, felt her trying to follow my instructions.
"That's it. Good girl. Now move your tongue—there, yes, just like that—"
I guided her slowly, teaching her the rhythm, showing her what felt good. Pull back, swirl your tongue around the head, then take it deeper. Don't use your teeth—there, that's better. Hollow your cheeks more. Use your hands on what you can't fit.
She was clumsy, awkward, and clearly inexperienced. At one point, her teeth scraped against the sensitive ski,n and I hissed, having to stop and show her how to cover them with her lips. Her rhythm was inconsistent, her suction varying wildly.
But fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing I'd ever felt.
Gradually, the haze lifted more. Her eyes began to focus, awareness creeping back into those light green irises. She blinked up at me, her lips still wrapped around my cock, and I saw the moment consciousness truly returned.
I expected her to pull away, to realize what she was doing and react with shock or disgust.
Instead, she pulled back slightly, catching her breath, and said in a small voice, "Like... like this?" before taking me back into her mouth with more purpose.
Really…. a girl like her would have been wasted on a guy like Sai.
"Yes," I groaned. "Exactly like that. You're doing so well, my little flower."
She hummed around my cock, and the vibration nearly made my knees buckle.
For several minutes, she worked at it with increasing confidence, following my guidance, finding a rhythm that worked. Her hands joined in again, stroking what she couldn't fit, and I had to actively fight the urge to just grab her head and fuck her throat.
Until she gave me an excuse to.
She pulled back, trailing kisses along my shaft, and asked, "Does Sakura do this too?"
I blinked.
The question caught me so off-guard I almost missed the way her tongue traced the vein along the underside of my cock, the way she seemed to genuinely enjoy the intimacy of being this close to it.
"What?" I managed.
"Sakura," Ino repeated, pressing another kiss to my shaft, her eyes watching my reaction. "She's been your student since you got back from your mission, right? But every time I ask her about it—about what you teach her—she gets all weird and won't answer. And you get weird too when I bring her up."
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Was this what the jealous outburst earlier had really been about? Not the flowers, not the other girls in general, but specifically Sakura?
I shouldn't have been surprised. Ino was observant when she wanted to be, especially about things that threatened what she considered hers. Their rivalry ran deep, and she'd clearly picked up on... something.
"No," I said honestly, because lying to Ino was usually more trouble than it was worth. "Sakura's never done this."
She will, though.
Ino lifted my cock with one hand, running her tongue along the length in one long, deliberate stroke. Then she smiled, triumphant and smug.
"So I'm better than forehead," she said with clear satisfaction. "But like — I don't even know why you bother with her. There are better students you could have chosen."
I filed away the fact that she wasn't at all dismissing that there was something between Sakura and me. Just focused on being better at it. This girl could be terrifying when she wanted to be.
But her rivalry with Sakura... as much as it was tiresome in other occasions, it could be useful here.
I shrugged, deliberately casual. "Sakura's good at taking it."
Ino's eyes narrowed. "Taking what?"
I snorted. "Pain. Difficulty. She's stubborn." I threaded my fingers through her disheveled ponytail, gripping it firmly. "She doesn't give up easily, even when things get hard. It's a useful quality in a student."
And as expected, the competitive fire blazed in Ino's eyes.
"I have a high pain tolerance too," she said immediately, her chin lifting with pride despite her position on the floor. "I'm a kunoichi. I've been through plenty of difficult training. I can handle whatever forehead can handle."
Hook, line, and sinker.
"Yeah?" I used my grip on her ponytail to pull her closer, guiding her mouth back to my cock. "Then show me."
I pushed past her lips, deeper than before. Her body convulsed with a gag, and her hands instinct flew onto my thighs to push back.
"Relax your throat," I instructed, holding her in place. "Breathe through your nose."
She gagged again, her fingers dug into my muscles, but she neither pulled or pushed. Her eyes watered, but there was determination in them now, mixed with that competitive fire.
"That's it," I encouraged, pulling back slightly to let her breathe, then pushing in again. "You can take it. I know you can."
Another gag, but this time she seemed to anticipate it, seemed to try to relax through it.
"Good girl. So much better than I expected. Sakura struggled way more with this."
That was a complete lie—Sakura had never been in this position—but Ino didn't know that.
The effect was immediate. Her throat relaxed fractionally, accepting another inch.
"Perfect," I groaned. "Just keep breathing. Let your throat open."
I established a rhythm, shallow thrusts that gradually went deeper, using her ponytail as leverage. Every time the blonde princess started to resist, I'd praise her, compare her favorably to Sakura, remind her how good she was doing.
It worked. And it was so much fun.
The Yamanaka heiress' throat slowly, gradually opened up. The tight, convulsive clench of her muscles gave way to a more pliant acceptance. She was still gagging, still struggling, tears streaming down her already-ruined face, but she was trying. Trying to prove she was better, trying to please me, trying to win.
"Just let it in, don't fight it," I murmured when I felt her throat tighten too much. "You're doing amazing. Just a little more. Sakura had been more cooperative at this stage."
Ino made a choked sound that might have been pride or protest or both, but her throat relaxed again, and I slid deeper.
The sensation was so fucking incredible. The heat, the tightness, the convulsive swallows as her body tried to cope with the intrusion. Knowing I was doing this to a Yamanaka princess, that I'd corrupted Inoichi's carefully raised daughter into enthusiastically choking on my cock just to prove she was better than her rival—
I had to pull out, let her gasp for air, or I'd finish too soon.
Ino coughed, glistening filaments of spit connecting her lips to my cock, her mascara running down her face in dark streaks mixed with fresh tears. Her lipstick was completely gone now, her lips swollen and red.
"Breathe," I said, giving her a moment. "You're doing so well. Better than I ever imagined."
She looked up at me with watery eyes, her chest heaving, and gasped out, "B-better than... better than Sakura?"
"Mmh… I can't say yet," I murmured, brushing a thumb along her cheek. "I'd need more than this to make a fair comparison, don't you think?"
Then I guided her back, pushing into her mouth again, and my little flower accepted it with renewed determination.
We continued like that, gradually gaining territory. I'd push deep, hold until she gagged, pull out to let her breathe, then go again. Each time she managed a little more, her throat learning to accommodate, to relax, to open.
My soothing words and guidance helped. Telling her to relax her jaw, to breathe, to let me in. Praising her progress, her dedication, and her superiority over Sakura.
And it was effective. So fucking effective. My sweet girl doing her best; she's a quick learner, too.
When her throat finally opened fully, when I slid nearly all the way in and felt her nose brush against my skin, the sensation was indescribable. She wasn't able to take me to the base, like Anko, nobody had that supernatural looseness but Ino…. she was tight, hot, wet, pulsing—her throat clenched around me like a vice, rippling with her attempts to swallow.
It occurred to me that I'd just taken Ino's throat virginity. Was that even a thing? Be that as it may, I had silently crossed a line, and damn did it feel good.
I held her there for a moment, buried completely, feeling her struggle, before pulling back to let her breathe.
She gasped, coughed, drool, and spit, dripping down her chin to her chest, adding to the mess of her once-pristine purple top.
"Again," I said, and she nodded, opening her mouth obediently.
I fucked her throat in earnest now, using her ponytail to control the pace. Deep thrusts that made her gag and her eyes roll back. Pulling out to let her gasp for air before plunging back in.
She was deteriorating before my eyes. The picture-perfect beauty was long gone. This was just raw need and competitive pride, mixed with genuine desire to please.
Her mascara had run down completely in dark rivers. Spit and drool covered her chin, her neck, soaking into her top. Her hair was a disaster, strands stuck to her face and neck with sweat and tears and saliva.
At some point, her hand slipped between her thighs, fingers disappearing beneath her skirt to touch herself. She looked up at me with tear-bright eyes that were somehow both innocent and utterly debauched, her expression a mixture of helpless need and bliss as she choked on my cock while fingering herself.
"Fuck," I groaned, the sight pushing me closer to the edge. "Such a good little slut. My perfect little flower."
She moaned around my cock, her throat vibrating with the sound, and she seemed almost offended by my words, almost, but that was it.
I couldn't hold back anymore.
I gripped her ponytail with both hands and thrust deep, nearly burying myself completely in her newly claimed throat. She gagged violently, her hands coming up to hit my thighs, trying to push away, but I held her there as my orgasm hit.
The release was explosive. For a fraction of a second, the world muted and world greyed, then it crashed.
Everything that had built up from Kushina's massage, from edging Ino, from watching her fall apart. It all came crashing out. My cock pulsed, pumping cum directly down her throat, wave after wave of it.
Ino's eyes went wide, panicked, her throat convulsing around me. She hit my thighs harder, struggling, and reluctantly, I pulled out.
I'd barely cleared her lips when another spurt erupted, painting across her face. Then another, and another. I wrapped my hand around my shaft, pumping, directing the streams across her features.
It was disappointing to leave the wet warmth of her mouth and the spasms of her no longer innocent throat, but I didn't want to hurt her. Still, watching her cough and gag while I continued to cum on her was its own kind of satisfaction.
Cum splattered across her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. It dripped into her open mouth as she gasped for air, onto her chin to mix with the drool already there. It painted her chest, her purple top, marking her thoroughly.
When I finally finished, spent and breathing hard, I looked down at the absolute mess I'd made.
Ino was completely ruined. Even more than before. She looked like a blossom after a sudden rain, glistening and utterly changed.
Kneeling like some cheap whore, her face was covered in cum and tears and ruined makeup. Spit and drool dripped from her chin. Her blonde hair was a disaster of tangles and sweat and white paint. Her clothes were soaked through and stained.
I felt a flicker of regret. Was it for what I'd just done to her, used her like that? Or was it just the post-nut clarity crashing down, or the simple, stupid bitterness of not having a phone to capture the sight of her there, marked and mine?
Ino looked up, I expected her to be truly pissed off but—
"Was I…." she began through heavy weazing, her voice rough and abused. "Was I better than Sakura?"
I stared at her for a solid moment. After all that. After being face-fucked until she could barely breathe, after being used, degraded, choked, and left a complete mess. That was what she cared about?
I couldn't help it. I laughed. Hard, genuine laughter that made my whole body shake.
"Don't laugh," she said with a pout, and I had to give it to her feminine charms; she made it look so cute and innocent despite the semen clinging to her bottom lip. "Ugh, you're impossible! Just say it already."
Her tongue darted out on instinct, a quick, bird-like motion to clean it, and then her face shifted. A slight pucker, a thoughtful blink, as if tasting something unexpectedly complex. The coy pout returned soon after.
"Yes," I said when I could speak again, still grinning. "Yes, my little flower was way better. The best even."
Her face bloomed with pride. She actually pushed her chest out, straightening her spine in a parody of proper posture, even as cum dripped from her chin onto her breasts.
Then, as if to prove me right, she crawled forward on her knees, reached up to the head of my softening cock, and planted a kiss with reverent gentleness. She looked up at me with a twinkle in her eyes that made my cock jump.
And as I was considering other, even more impure and wicked things to do to this maddening temptress, a sharp cough cut through the silence.
Oh…...
We'd been caught.
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