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Chapter 09 - Anko Mitarashi IV
🕑 Added 2025-03-28 10:34:00 +0000 UTCAnko collapsed onto the futon in a boneless heap, arms trembling, body slack with exhaustion. For a long moment, all she did was breathe — heavy, uneven, utterly wrecked.
Then, with what little strength she had left, she let out a hoarse chuckle.
“Tch… If Tsume ever saw this, she’d say I was a bitch trained wrong…” she turned her head slightly, looking at me through half-lidded, hazy eyes, a lazy smirk tugging at her lips. “Not that I mind. Long as I get my treats after.”
The sight of Anko sprawled out on my futon, her body still twitching, skin flushed, from forced pleasure, sent a dark thrill through me. Her flat, toned stomach — carved with the lean muscle of a seasoned kunoichi—rose and fell with each ragged breath.
I ran a hand over her flat belly, feeling the taut muscles beneath her smooth skin. Lean, honed, every inch built for agility and endurance. Not the soft curves of a housewife, but the sculpted strength of a woman who fought and bled for a living. Yet, despite the definition, her stomach still had a subtle give beneath my palm, a perfect blend of toughness and femininity.
My thumb brushed over her belly button—small, shallow, impossibly cute against the rest of her battle-hardened frame. I let my fingers linger there, tracing slow circles, enjoying the way she shivered beneath my touch.
“Only obedient pets get treats,” I murmured. “The disobedient ones get punished.”
Anko let out a breathy laugh, her smirk lazy but still sharp at the edges. "Oh? Guess that makes me a stray then…" She arched a brow, her half-lidded gaze glinting with mischief. "What’s my punishment, sensei? Gonna tie me up and train me proper?"
I reached out and patted her head, fingers threading through her damp hair. Her spiky ponytail had long since come undone, strands clinging to her flushed skin. She let out a quiet hum at the touch, but her eyes remained locked on mine — sharp, teasing, ever defiant.
Leaning down, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering just a second too long.
"Anko, spread your legs for me," I murmured.
The kunoichi snorted, her lips quirking up in a lazy smirk. “Hah? What do I look like — one of your trained bitches?” Her voice was hoarse, exhaustion clinging to the edges, but her tone still held that mischievous bite. “Why don’t you make me?”
I didn’t answer. Patting her head, I just smiled — that slow, knowing smile that said everything without a word. I kept my gaze steady, watching her, waiting.
Seconds passed. Then more.
Anko held her ground at first, her grin twitching at the edges, but I saw the moment her confidence wavered. Her fingers curled against the futon. Her breath hitched. Then, with an irritated click of her tongue, she finally broke and looked away.
A flush of heat crawled up her neck to her cheeks — something rare, something cute, something utterly unlike Anko Mitarashi. It wasn’t the flush of arousal but of embarrassment.
Without another word, she slowly spread her legs.
It wasn’t her usual confident display. There was hesitance in the way she parted her thighs, her knees bending slightly inward before she forced herself to splay them wider. Her arms remained slack beside her, hands fisting in the sheets as she presented herself. Even in her exhaustion, her slick folds twitched, still needy, still wanting, despite her earlier bravado.
The sight was obscene.
I moved between her legs, settling into the space she had given me. The moment I lined myself up with her entrance, she tensed. Her toned legs trembled slightly, her hips tilting up in silent invitation.
Leaning down, I captured her lips in a deep kiss. She melted into it almost immediately, her body softening beneath me. When I finally pulled back, I let my lips brush against hers.
“You were already trained properly.” I pushed forward, sinking into her heat in one slow, claiming thrust. “You merely needed a reminder on who your owner is.”
After that, it was a one-sided assault.
Anko — sharp-tongued, vicious Anko — had been stripped of her ferocity, her fangs, her armor of bavardo. No more taunts. No more clever jabs. Just soft, shuddering breaths and the occasional broken whimper as I claimed her, over and over.
This was the real Anko.
No hiding behind snark. No deflecting with crude humor. Just her — mewling, pliant, needy.
And then, the most damning proof. She bared her neck to me. Literally.
And I obliged.
My fingers wrapped around her pale, delicate throat, pressing just enough to feel the frantic rhythm of her pulse hammering beneath my touch. She gasped, her back bowing off the futon, her cunt tightening around me in a way that made me curse.
Of course, she would like this.
A neck, one of, if not the most vulnerable point in the body — the place a blade would slit, a hand would crush, a poison would sink in. It was the first thing drilled into a shinobi. Protect your neck.
The neck was intimate. Erotic in a way that had nothing to do with softness or sweetness.
Anko’s breath hitched, her hips jerking as a fresh wave of arousal slicked her thighs. The contradiction was intoxicating — a trained killer, surrendering her most vital weakness, reveling in the danger of it.
Something about that, made her impossibly aroused. The danger of it. The trust. Letting someone hold her most vulnerable point, knowing I could crush her windpipe in a second — but I wouldn’t. That intoxicating mix of risk and safety had her body shuddering beneath me, her breath coming out in short, desperate pants.
That’s when Anko started coming nonstop. Orgasm after orgasm.
Her body lost all composure, wracked by waves of ecstasy that tore through her like a relentless current. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, her lips parted in silent screams. Her toes curled, legs trembling, muscles spasming uncontrollably. She had no power left to fight it—no strength to hold back.
And that’s when I felt it too. My own climax coiling tight, ready to snap.
I leaned down, pressing my forehead against hers, forcing her dazed, unfocused eyes to meet mine. My grip on her throat tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her exactly who she belonged to.
“This is what you really want, isn’t it?” I murmured against her lips. “To be owned.”
She didn’t deny it.
A strangled whimper was all she managed—her body answering for her, the way she clenched around me, the way she shook beneath me, the way she surrendered completely.
I had her on the moon.
And yet… it’s not enough. I wasn’t satisfied.
I was wrecking her, dragging her through orgasm after orgasm until she was left shuddering mess, boneless beneath me. But the pleasure I was giving her—it wasn’t enough. I needed more. More than just her body breaking apart beneath me. More than just her breathless gasps and trembling limbs. More than I had given to Kushina.
I needed to carve myself into her.
Deeper. More. Until…..
The room was thick with heat. The slick slap of flesh, Anko’s broken moans, the obscenely wet sounds of her body taking me over and over. My fingers glowed with medical chakra as I pressed them against her most sensitive spots, manipulating nerves, forcing pleasure into her until her expression was nothing but a lost, pathetic mess.
Her violet eyes were unfocused, glazed over in a pleasure-drunk haze, tears streaked her flushed cheeks, her mouth slack, drool pooling at the corner of her lips.
I felt my own release rising, coiling hot and urgent in my core.
“Where do you want it?” My voice was rough, nearly a growl.
For a moment, she didn’t answer, too dazed, too lost in the throes of pleasure. I gave her time, watching as her pleasure-clouded mind struggled to string together words. Her lips parted—
Before she could make a sound, I tightened my grip on her throat.
A strangled gasp. Wide, wild eyes. No words.
“I asked you a question, pet.”
She tried again, but her voice couldn’t escape past my grip. Her body tensed, and I could see her struggling—lips parting, brows furrowing, breath coming out in small, broken pants. When words failed her, she moved to gestures.
Her mouth fell open, her unnaturally long tongue pushing out—stretching, curling, offering itself to me.
“In your mouth?” I asked.
She couldn’t nod, not with my grip on her neck, but her tongue extended further, the tip flicking slightly as if beckoning.
For a moment, I considered it. A rational decision.
But rationality wasn’t in control anymore.
Not when my blood was pumping furiously, not when it was all being siphoned south, leaving my brain lacking reason.
A thought entered my head. A daring one. A mistake, probably.
But I leaned in anyway, pressing my lips against the shell of her ear, letting my breath ghost over her sweat-damp skin.
“A pet doesn’t get to decide that,” I whispered, slow, deliberate, savoring the way her body shuddered beneath me. “I’ll come where I want.”
A guttural howl tore from Anko’s throat as her body locked up beneath me, her walls clamping down in a desperate vice. Her eyes widened, pupils blown wide, and a strangled moan escaped as she came hard—harder than I had ever seen.
I wasn’t far behind. The way she squeezed me, the sheer force of her climax, pulled me over the edge. My release surged forward, and I barely had time to brace before I buried myself to the hilt, groaning as I spilled deep inside her. It hit her with another shuddering wave — her body trembling, her fingers digging into my arms as if to anchor herself.
My breath was ragged, my vision hazy. This… this was different. I had never filled her before. Never filled anyone before.
Rope after rope of thick, white cum flooded her depths, my orgasm stretching longer than I'd ever experienced — each pulse wringing another weak shudder from Anko's spent body. Her cunt still fluttered around me, greedy even in exhaustion, milking every last drop until I was utterly drained.
I had never come this long, this hard. It left me shaking, my muscles locking up from the sheer force of it.
By the time it finally ended, I collapsed onto her, my forehead pressing into the crook of her neck. Anko was just as breathless, her body limp beneath me, still twitching from the aftershocks. Her scent—sweat, sex, and something uniquely her—filled my lungs as I breathed her in.
I should probably regret this.
I probably will.
But right now, all I could think was—why hadn’t I done this sooner?
A voice in the back of my mind answered. Because it was irresponsible. Because I had crossed a line.
But why should I care about that?
Anko’s chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths beneath me, her body limp, her mind still floating somewhere beyond coherency. I traced a finger along the curve of her hip, possessive.
Then—
A weak, hoarse chuckle escaped her.
"...Bastard," she slurred, her voice wrecked, but her lips curled in that familiar smirk. "You... hah... you owe me a damn swallow."
I can’t help the laugh. Even half-dead from pleasure, she was still her.
But then my thoughts caught up with me.
What I’d just done.
The sight of my cum leaking from her well-used pussy. The way her body had taken me, milked me, belonged to me. The sheer wrongness of what I’d just done. Irresponsible. Reckless. Perfect.
The way I had emptied myself inside her, deep in her womb.
The way she had taken all of it.
The way she had looked at me while doing it.
A low, primal hunger reignited in my gut, and I felt it — my cock twitching back to life, already hardening again.
"Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me—"
I didn’t give her time to finish. Gripping her trembling thighs, I hauled them over my shoulders, pinning her in place. Her body was still twitching from the last round, her muscles loose and oversensitive, but I didn’t care.
Anko blinked at me, still dazed, but when she felt me press against her entrance again, her lips parted in something between a laugh and a groan. “Come on — Haven’t you had enough?“
"Not even close."
Her eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, I caught something unfamiliar there. Not fear, exactly — Anko Mitarashi didn’t scare easy—but a flicker of apprehension.
I took that as an invitation.
Without another word, I pushed back into her, my cock sliding easily into the heat of her well-fucked, cum-filled pussy. Anko gasped, half a moan, half a curse.
“Fuck—” Her breath hitched as her body jerked under me. “You absolute bastard — Y-you sadistic—AHH!—perverted—NNNGH!—son of a—!”
After that, I emptied myself inside her again and again, each climax more intense than the last, until I was drained to the bone and she could barely twitch without making a filthy, sticky noise.
This — this was the best sex of my life.
Filling Anko was better than fucking Kushina, I would daresay.
And as I collapsed beside her, both of us a tangled mess of sweat, heat, and exhaustion, one thought clawed at the edges of my mind.
I would definitely do this again.
