Vizem
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Chapter 95 - Tending the Flower
🕑 Added 2025-08-24 10:46:52 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note:
This chapter is a little bonus! I wasn’t planning to post today, but IzaKi dropped such a passionate review over on Webnovel that it really made my day and I happened to have an reserve chapter on hand.
I don’t have grander words to give, but I do have my thanks and this extra chapter. Thank you, IzaKi.
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I gave her short skirt waistband another tug, and she made a suppressed mewling sound. Her breathing hitched, shallow. Tracing ticklishly the waistband and her skin to her hip, enjoying her curves for a moment. Then slid it down her thigh past her ninja tool pouch until I stopped just above her knee, squeezing the exposed flesh there. She swayed slightly on her feet, the hand gripping my chest for support.
“Tell me,” I said casually, squeezing again, “does your father know you’re here?”
Ino let out a squeal, a tiny, strangled sound she immediately smothered behind her hand. I couldn't tell if it was from my question or because I'd moved my hand to her other leg, fingers now trailing along her inner thigh.
"He doesn’t— I mean he doesn't need to know everything I do," she stammered, her hand pressed firmly over her mouth to stifle any more sounds. Her teal eyes trembled as they watched with rapt attention my hand slowly inching higher up her inner thigh, disappearing under the hem of her skirt. "Eishin, you can't... we shouldn't..."
I stopped my hand just below where her skirt ended, resting it on the incredibly soft and warm flesh of her inner thigh while my thumb made slow, soothing circles. Looking directly into her pretty teal eye, the other concealed by her bangs.
“My little flower needs proper tending,” I said softly, my voice rough with subtext, “so she doesn’t forget she’s cared for. Don’t you think so?”
She bit her lower lip, glancing nervously at the door, then down at my hand between her legs, then back to my face. Then, shyly, hesitantly, she nodded.
I arched a brow. Sakura had that same habit. Nod like a coward instead of saying what needed saying. Maybe it was a thing they picked up from each other.
I pinched her inner thigh lightly between my fingers, just enough pressure to make her twitch.. "I need to hear you say it, little flower."
Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red as she struggled with the words. "This... this flower needs to be tended to," she finally whispered, her voice so quiet I almost didn't catch it. By the time she finished speaking, her entire face was burning with embarrassment.
I patted her inner thigh approvingly. "That's my good little flower."
She gave me a shy smile, small and uncertain. Nothing like the outspoken, confident flower she showed everyone else. This was the Ino only I got to see.
Keeping my tone casual while my hand slowly crept higher up her inner thigh. "So your father doesn't know you're here, huh." I mused, fingers dancing just outside her most precious territory, building anticipation rather than rushing. I played gently with the fabric of her skirt, stroking the silky skin of her inner thighs but never venturing directly into forbidden territory—she would need to ask for that herself. "My little flower is being quite the bad girl, isn't she?"
She made a tiny noise. Half whine, half protest. A little sound that said don’t call me that, but don’t stop either.
With one hand still covering her mouth and the other pressed against my chest as though she could steady herself with the beat of my heart, she started making muffled excuses. "It's not that I'm being bad! Dad just... he wouldn't understand, you know? And he gets all weird and overprotective whenever boys are mentioned, and I'm not a little girl anymore but he treats me like I am, and—" Her words came out in breathless rushes as her attention kept drifting to my hand between her legs.
Bad girl. Good girl. It was all a matter of perspective. But objectively speaking, she was alone with a man, in a hospital room, spreading lies to her father by omission, letting said man slip his fingers in places proper girls would never allow. Yeah, my little flower was a bad girl.
My eyes drifted down, appreciating the view. Her thighs were rather thick for someone with her slender frame, but not unpleasantly so—just well-developed in all the right ways. Healthy and full. Not too thick, not soft either; just enough to grip and never want to let go.
I kept caressing her smooth flesh, my fingers exploring the warm, sensitive territory inside her skirt where I discovered she was wearing mesh shorts underneath.
Practical for a kunoichi, sure. Annoying for me. But I wasn’t in a rush. I hooked the elastic band, tugged it gently, then let it snap back with a soft pop.
She jolted, thighs pressing instinctively, eyes wide like a deer.
I chuckled low. “And your mother?” My fingers teased the band again, pulling and letting go. “Does she know her daughter sneaks out to a dangerous bad man like me?”
Ino lowered her hand a little from her mouth, still covering half her lips. “N-no… I didn’t say anything.” She swallowed, shifting her weight like she couldn’t get comfortable with my hand up her skirt. “But… um… I might’ve left… kind of a mess in the kitchen. So she’ll probably guess I—” Her words stumbled, breaking off as my palm dragged slowly over the inside of her thigh again.
She shifted her leg as if to get comfortable, but it was a flimsy excuse. She opened herself more, long fair legs parting just enough for me to slide in deeper.
I grinned. She caught me catching her, gave me a look at her obvious invitation, but she gave me a look that was part pleading, part warning. Don’t you dare tease me about it.
I decided to spare her the embarrassment. For now. Instead, tapped her inner thigh a couple of times to encourage her to spread wider. She complied immediately, and quite happily too. Ino was rather shameless in that regard—she felt less guilt when I directed her actions than when she initiated them herself.
Good girl. Slutty girl. My girl.
“So,” I said again, as though nothing in the world was happening, “what’ve you been up to while I was away?” My fingers ghosted higher, brushing just below the gusset of her mesh shorts.
Her lips parted, then closed again. She tried to sound normal, tried to keep her voice steady. “W-we had a mission… to the capital. Just a D-rank… ahh,” My fingertips pressed against her core, still covered. Soft barrier. Annoying. Her knees dipped inward, then parted again, as if her body hadn’t caught up with her words. “…. d-delivering ledgers and supplies. Nothing special.”
“And after?” I asked lightly, stroking slow circles, rubbing her pussy through the mesh and panties.
She bit down on her lower lip, then managed: “I—I helped in the shop. Dad made me take extra shifts since I… since I spent so much time—” Her sentence cut, a sharp inhale escaping as my pressure grew firmer, dragging up and down the length of her slit through the thin fabric.
Her hand pressed against my chest harder, not pushing me away, just grounding herself.
“Since you what?” I teased, fingertips tracing, coaxing dampness into the cloth.
She shook her head, blonde hair falling into her eyes, her voice smaller now: “Since I kept… skipping training to—ah—” She muffled the sound with her hand again, words cracking apart.
It was a bit annoying working around a pussy this well-protected, but nothing I couldn't handle. Soon enough, I could feel heat seeping through; her panties grew damp beneath my persistent attention, and she began pressing her hips forward into my hand. She was absolutely adorable and deliciously responsive.
I could feel her climbing toward the edge as she pressed harder against my chest, her knees starting to buckle inward, twitching and jerking. While she leaned forward for support. Her free hand gripped the bed rail so tightly her knuckles went white, and those pretty teal eyes kept fluttering back whenever I hit just the right spot.
The feel of her through the damp fabric was intoxicating—soft, swollen lips that yielded to pressure, growing slicker by the moment as her arousal soaked through the thin barriers, and through it all her pussy pulsed against my fingertips like it had its own heartbeat. My own desire was building watching her come undone so beautifully, the way her body responded so honestly to every touch.
She was incredibly sensitive, practically vibrating with need. Her body had been primed for this kind of attention, and it showed in how quickly she responded to even the lightest contact.
I stroked her slowly, circling lazy patterns over her covered clit. Every move dragged a strangled little noise from her throat. But I wasn't about to let her get completely lost in sensation just yet. I needed her present and aware for a much stronger ending.
"Finish what you were saying," I commanded softly, continuing my ministrations. "You skipped training to what?"
Her jaw worked open and closed in perfect rhythm with my fingers brushing against her covered sex, eyelashes fluttering as she struggled to form words. "I... I kept skipping to—ah—to come check if you'd..."
I circled her clit harder. She shuddered, legs tightening around my hand.
"—to see if y-you'd…. come back yet…. Dad got mad because—oh god—because… umh… because, I wasn't taking training s-seriously and—"
I slipped lower, pressing right against where I knew her entrance would be, feeling how the fabric molded to her shape.
"—and Mom said….” She bit down on the sentence, breath punching from her lungs as I pressed just right. “…. but I just—I just…. humf!"
“You just?“ I rubbed her faster, the wetness seeping through the cloth to my skin.
Her head dropped forward, hair falling like a golden curtain around her face. “I just missed you so much I couldn't—couldn't focus on anything else!“ she finally spat, voice breaking apart in a whine as her thighs trembled.
My little flower was in love? That made me so happy.
She was also seconds away from climaxing. She was close. So close. Her nails dug into my chest, her hips shamelessly jerking against my hand, awkward little thrusts she couldn’t hide. She was about to snap, the spoiled little princess on the edge of losing all composure—
And I pulled back.
Her eyes stayed closed for a moment, mouth parted in silent moans. When I removed my hand from her core and let it rest casually on her trembling inner thigh, she blinked in confusion. It took her a full beat to realize I’d left her hanging.
"What? Why did you—that's not fair!" she protested, her voice pitched higher with indignation. "I was so close! You can't just stop like that!" She immediately grabbed my wrist, trying to force my hand back where she wanted it.
Ino was so weak to her own needs. Completely enslaved to her body's demands.
"Come on, I'm right there! Just a little more, please?" she begged, attempting to guide my hand back to her pussy while grinding her hips desperately. When I didn't budge—even with both her hands pulling—she tried rutting against thin air, chasing the friction she craved.
I enjoyed watching her desperation, the stark contrast between this shameless, needy creature and the poised heiress to the Yamanaka clan. She'd been ripe and ready for me to take her completely for so long now. If only she could hide losing her virginity from her father, I would have claimed her months ago.
Sadly, I didn't want to attract any more of his ire than I already had.
I slapped her inner thigh sharply, the sound cutting through her desperate movements.
"Ow! Eishin, that hurt!" she whined, finally stilling her frantic motions.
“Did it?“ I arched an eyebrow.
She looked away, embarrassed, and pouted. "Why are you being so mean to me?"
"You know exactly why," I said evenly. "It's the same way I felt when I asked for a kiss and you only gave me a peck on the cheek."
"That's not—" she began, guilt flickering in her lust-addled eyes. "I mean, we're in a hospital! What if someone walked in? I wasn’t—ugh, you don’t get it! It's not like I didn't want to, I just... There could be doctors or nurses, and they might think we're being inappropriate and—"
I squeezed the tender flesh of her thigh, and her excuses died instantly. My steady glare made her reconsider her defensive stance.
She wilted, bit her lip before saying hesitantly, "I'm... I'm sorry."
That was my little flower; I’ve cultivated her well.
