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The wood erupted from the earth like serpents answering their master's call, twisting and coiling through the air with deadly precision. Sakura's breath caught in her throat—not from fear, but from something far more primal that she'd been trying to ignore for weeks now.
Captain Yamato stood across the training field, his expression calm and focused as he controlled the wooden constructs with subtle hand movements. The way the wood responded to his chakra, the way it could wrap and bind and hold... Sakura felt heat pool low in her belly, her thighs pressing together involuntarily.
"Sakura?" Yamato's voice cut through her distraction. "Are you alright? You seem unfocused today."
She snapped back to attention, her cheeks flushing. "I'm fine, Captain! Just... analyzing your technique."
That was partially true. She had been analyzing it—just not in the way he thought. Every time she watched him train, every time those wooden pillars rose from the ground or those branches twisted through the air, her mind wandered to forbidden places. She imagined those same constructs wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, holding her immobile and helpless while...
"Sakura, you're doing it again." Yamato's concerned expression made her realize she'd been staring, her lips slightly parted, her breathing shallow.
She needed to get closer to him. She needed to make this happen somehow, but how could she possibly explain this desire? The great Sakura Haruno, medical ninja and student of the Fifth Hokage, wanted nothing more than to be bound and taken by the reserved ANBU captain.
An idea struck her.
"Captain Yamato," she said, forcing her voice to sound professional and determined. "I need your help with my training."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What kind of training?"
"Long-range jutsu users," she said quickly, the lie coming easily now that she had a goal. "I'm incredibly strong in close combat, but I need to improve my approach against opponents who can attack from a distance. Your Wood Style is perfect for this—it's versatile, can attack from multiple angles, and requires strategic thinking to counter."
It wasn't entirely a lie. She did need to improve in that area. But that wasn't why her heart was racing, why her palms were sweating, why she could barely meet his eyes without imagining him pinning her down.
Yamato considered this for a moment, then nodded. "That's actually quite insightful. Your Taijutsu and close-range combat skills are exceptional, but you're right that you could benefit from training against long-range techniques. When would you like to start?"
"Now?" The word came out too eager, too breathless. She cleared her throat. "I mean, if you have time. I know you're busy with your duties."
A small smile crossed his usually stoic face. "I can make time. Lady Tsunade would want me to help develop the skills of her apprentice."
If only he knew what skills she really wanted to develop.
They met three times a week after that. Each session left Sakura more frustrated and more desperate than the last.
Yamato was professional, patient, and devastatingly skilled. He would create obstacles for her to navigate, barriers for her to break through, and binding techniques for her to escape. And every single time those wooden constructs wrapped around her limbs, even briefly, Sakura felt electricity shoot through her body.
But it wasn't enough. She needed more contact, more intensity, more... everything.
"You're getting better at breaking through the wood," Yamato observed during their second week of training. "Your chakra control and strength are impressive."
Sakura wiped sweat from her brow, her training outfit clinging to her curves. She'd deliberately chosen something more form-fitting than usual—a cropped top that showed her toned midriff and tight shorts that hugged her ass. She told herself it was for better mobility, but she'd caught Yamato's eyes lingering more than once.
"I think I need a different approach," she said, an idea forming. "I'm always trying to break free or destroy the wood, but what if I focused on closing the distance instead? Getting close enough to engage in Taijutsu before you can fully restrain me?"
Yamato's expression shifted slightly, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. "That's... a valid strategy. But it would require you to be much more aggressive in your approach."
"I can be aggressive," Sakura said, and there was a challenge in her voice that had nothing to do with training.
"Very well," Yamato said slowly. "But I should warn you—if you're going to force close combat, I won't hold back on my Taijutsu skills. My ANBU training was quite thorough."
Sakura's pulse quickened. "I'm counting on it."
The next session changed everything.
Sakura came at him hard and fast, using her chakra-enhanced strength to demolish his wooden barriers before they could fully form. She closed the distance between them in seconds, forcing Yamato to abandon his long-range techniques and engage her directly.
She'd expected him to be competent. She hadn't expected him to be extraordinary.
Yamato moved like water, flowing around her strikes with an economy of motion that spoke of years of deadly training. When she threw a punch that could shatter boulders, he redirected it with a gentle touch. When she tried to sweep his legs, he was already airborne, his counter-strike stopping just inches from her throat.
They danced across the training field, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization—attack and defense, strike and counter, a violent ballet that left them both breathing hard and covered in sweat.
Sakura had never been more turned on in her life.
Every time Yamato's hands made contact with her body—blocking a strike, redirecting her momentum, grappling for position—she felt that touch like fire on her skin. His fingers on her wrist, his palm against her shoulder, his arm wrapping around her waist to throw her... each contact point burned itself into her memory.
And she could tell he was affected too. His breathing had changed, becoming slightly ragged. His eyes tracked her movements with an intensity that went beyond simple combat awareness. When they grappled, when their bodies pressed together for those brief moments, she could feel the tension in his muscles, see the slight dilation of his pupils.
"You're... very skilled," Yamato said during a brief pause, his chest heaving. His usually neat hair was disheveled, and there was a slight flush to his cheeks.
"So are you," Sakura replied, her voice husky. "I had no idea ANBU training was so... thorough."
They stared at each other across the training field, the air between them crackling with unspoken tension.
"Again?" Yamato asked, and there was something in his voice that made Sakura's knees weak.
"Again," she agreed.
Over the following weeks, their training sessions became increasingly intense. Sakura pushed harder, got closer, forced more physical contact. She was playing with fire and she knew it, but she couldn't stop herself.
Yamato, for his part, seemed to be struggling with something. She caught him watching her when he thought she wasn't looking, his gaze lingering on the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the flex of her thighs as she moved. His touches during their sparring lasted a fraction of a second longer than necessary. His voice had taken on a rougher quality when he spoke to her.
But he never crossed the line. Never made a move. Never gave her the opening she desperately craved.
Sakura was going insane with want.
She started taking more risks during their sessions, putting herself in vulnerable positions, giving him opportunities to restrain her. And Yamato, whether consciously or unconsciously, began using his Wood Style more liberally during their close combat, creating bindings and restraints even when they were grappling hand-to-hand.
It was during one of these moments that everything changed.
They'd been sparring for over an hour, both of them pushed to their limits. Sakura had managed to get inside Yamato's guard, her fist drawn back for a strike that would have ended the match. But Yamato was faster.
Wooden branches erupted from the ground, wrapping around her ankles and wrists with lightning speed. At the same moment, Yamato moved in, using her momentary immobilization to sweep her legs and take her down. They hit the ground hard, Yamato's body covering hers, his hands pinning her wrists above her head while his wood constructs held her legs spread.
For a moment, neither of them moved. They were both breathing hard, their faces inches apart, their bodies pressed together in a way that left nothing to the imagination.
"I'm sorry," Yamato said, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to—I should release you—"
"Don't you dare." The words came out as a command, raw and desperate.
Yamato froze, his eyes widening slightly. "What?"
"Don't. Release. Me." Sakura's chest was heaving, her skin flushed with more than just exertion. She looked up at him with undisguised desire, her lips parted, her pupils blown wide with want. "Not yet."
She watched understanding dawn in his eyes, watched his professional mask crack and crumble as he finally—finally—saw what she'd been offering him all along.
"Sakura..." His voice was rough, almost pained. "Do you understand what you're asking?"
"I understand perfectly," she said, arching her back slightly, pressing her body more firmly against his. "I've understood for weeks. I've been trying to get you to understand."
"The training..." Yamato's grip on her wrists tightened involuntarily. "You didn't actually need—"
"Oh, I needed it," Sakura interrupted, her voice dropping to a husky purr. "Just not for the reasons I said. Every time you use your Wood Style, every time those branches wrap around me, I imagine... God, Yamato, I imagine so many things."
She felt him harden against her thigh, his body betraying what his mind was still trying to process.
"You want me to..." He couldn't seem to finish the sentence.
"I want you to stop being so fucking professional and take what I'm offering," Sakura said bluntly. "I want you to use those wood constructs the way I've been fantasizing about. I want you to stop holding back and show me what that ANBU training really taught you."
Yamato's breathing had become ragged, his control visibly slipping. "You're Tsunade's apprentice. I'm your superior officer. This is—"
"I'm also a grown woman who knows exactly what she wants," Sakura interrupted. "And what I want is you. Right here. Right now. Still worried about propriety, Captain?"
The way she said his title, loaded with challenge and desire, seemed to be the final straw.
"Fuck," Yamato breathed, and then his mouth was on hers.
The kiss was explosive, all the weeks of tension and restraint finally breaking free. Yamato kissed her like a man starving, his tongue invading her mouth with a dominance that made Sakura moan against his lips.
His wood constructs tightened around her wrists and ankles, holding her completely immobile as he devoured her mouth. One of his hands released her wrist—the wood taking over that duty—and slid down her body to grip her breast through her top.
Sakura gasped into the kiss, arching into his touch. "Yes," she breathed when he moved to kiss her neck. "God, yes, more."
"Tell me," Yamato growled against her throat, his teeth grazing her pulse point. "Tell me exactly what you've been fantasizing about."
"Everything," Sakura moaned as his hand slipped under her top, his calloused fingers finding her nipple and pinching. "I've thought about you tying me up with your wood, spreading me open, making me helpless while you—ah!"
Yamato had bitten down on her neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "While I what?" he demanded, his voice rough with desire.
"While you fuck me," Sakura said shamelessly. "While you use me however you want. I've been so wet during our training sessions, imagining your hands on me, your cock inside me—"
Yamato groaned, grinding his hardness against her thigh. "You've been torturing me," he said, his hand sliding down to the waistband of her shorts. "Wearing these tight clothes, bending over, pressing against me during sparring. I've been going home and jerking off thinking about you every single night."
The confession sent a thrill through Sakura's body. "Then stop thinking and do something about it."
Something shifted in Yamato's expression, the last of his restraint crumbling away. The quiet, reserved captain disappeared, replaced by something darker and far more dangerous.
"You want to be restrained?" he asked, his voice dropping to a commanding tone that made Sakura's pussy clench. "You want me to use my Wood Style on you?"
"Please," Sakura whimpered.
More branches erupted from the ground, wrapping around her body with precise control. They slid under her back, lifting her slightly off the ground, spreading her legs wider. They wrapped around her thighs, her waist, even her neck—not tight enough to choke, but enough to remind her that she was completely at his mercy.
Yamato sat back on his heels, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You look perfect like this," he said, his hands moving to remove her top. "Completely helpless. Completely mine."
He stripped her efficiently, his wood constructs adjusting to allow the removal of her clothes while never releasing their hold on her. Soon she was naked except for the wooden bonds, her body on display in the fading afternoon light.
"Beautiful," Yamato murmured, his hands roaming over her exposed skin. "I've wanted to see you like this for so long."
His fingers found her pussy, sliding through her wetness. "Fuck, you're soaked. How long have you been this wet?"
"Since the moment you pinned me down," Sakura admitted breathlessly. "Since before that. Every training session, every time you touched me—"
Yamato pushed two fingers inside her, making her cry out. "Such a needy little thing," he said, his thumb finding her clit. "The great Sakura Haruno, reduced to a desperate, wet mess. What would people think if they knew?"
"I don't care," Sakura gasped, trying to move her hips but finding herself held completely immobile by his wood constructs. "Please, Yamato, I need—"
"I know what you need," he interrupted, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving hers. "And I'm going to give it to you. But first, I want to taste you properly."
He positioned himself between her spread legs, his wood constructs adjusting to give him better access. Then his mouth was on her pussy, his tongue sliding through her folds with devastating skill.
Sakura screamed, her back arching as much as her bonds would allow. Yamato ate her out like a man possessed, his tongue circling her clit before dipping inside her, his fingers joining to stretch her open.
"You taste incredible," he growled against her pussy. "I could do this for hours. Keep you tied up and make you come over and over until you're begging me to stop."
"Don't stop," Sakura pleaded, her body trembling with need. "Please don't stop, I'm so close—"
Yamato sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers curling inside her to hit that perfect spot, and Sakura came with a scream that echoed across the training field. Her body convulsed in her bonds, waves of pleasure crashing over her as Yamato worked her through her orgasm with his mouth and fingers.
Before she could fully recover, Yamato was stripping off his own clothes. Sakura's eyes widened when his cock sprang free—he was huge, easily the biggest she'd ever seen, thick and long and already leaking precum.
"Holy shit," she breathed.
Yamato smirked, the expression transforming his usually serious face into something almost predatory. "Having second thoughts?"
"Fuck no," Sakura said immediately. "I want that inside me. Now."
"So demanding," Yamato said, positioning himself between her legs. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and even just that contact made Sakura moan. "But I'm in charge here, remember? You're the one tied up and helpless."
He pushed forward slowly, his thick cock stretching her open inch by inch. Sakura's mouth fell open in a silent scream as he filled her, the sensation overwhelming and perfect and almost too much.
"Breathe," Yamato commanded, his hands gripping her hips. "Relax and take it. You can handle it."
Sakura forced herself to breathe, to relax her muscles, and felt him sink deeper. When he was finally fully seated inside her, they both groaned.
"Fuck, you're tight," Yamato gritted out, his control visibly fraying. "So fucking tight and wet and perfect."
"Fuck me," Sakura demanded. "Please, Yamato, fuck me—"
He pulled back and slammed forward, setting a brutal pace that had Sakura screaming with pleasure. His wood constructs held her perfectly in place, allowing him to fuck her with a force and depth that would have been impossible otherwise.
"Is this what you wanted?" Yamato growled, his hips pistoning. "Is this what you've been fantasizing about during our training sessions?"
"Yes!" Sakura cried out. "Yes, fuck, just like this—harder!"
Yamato's eyes flashed with something dark and possessive. "Harder? You want me to stop holding back?"
"I'm Tsunade's apprentice," Sakura reminded him breathlessly. "I'm one of the strongest kunoichi in the village. I can heal myself. So stop treating me like I'm fragile and fuck me like you mean it!"
Something snapped in Yamato. His grip on her hips tightened bruisingly, his pace becoming almost violent. He fucked her with the full force of his strength, each thrust driving her into the ground, his cock hitting depths that made her see stars.
"Like this?" he snarled. "Is this hard enough for you?"
"Yes!" Sakura screamed, her second orgasm already building. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop—"
Yamato adjusted the angle of his thrusts, hitting her G-spot with devastating precision. At the same time, thin wooden tendrils emerged from the constructs holding her, wrapping around her breasts and squeezing, teasing her nipples.
The combination of sensations—his huge cock pounding into her, the wood restraints holding her immobile, the tendrils playing with her breasts—pushed Sakura over the edge. She came with a scream that probably carried all the way to the village, her pussy clenching around Yamato's cock like a vice.
"Fuck, Sakura," Yamato groaned, his rhythm faltering. "You feel so good when you come. Do it again."
He didn't give her time to recover, just kept fucking her through her orgasm and into the next one. His stamina was incredible, his control absolute. He played her body like an instrument, finding every sensitive spot, every angle that made her scream.
Sakura lost count of how many times she came. Her body was a live wire of sensation, pleasure bleeding into pleasure until she couldn't tell where one orgasm ended and the next began.
"Please," she finally gasped, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, Yamato, I need you to come. I need to feel you come inside me."
"Inside?" Yamato's pace stuttered. "Are you sure—"
"I'm on contraceptives," Sakura assured him. "Medical ninja, remember? Now fill me up. I want to feel your cum inside me."
Yamato groaned, his control finally breaking. His thrusts became erratic, desperate, and then he was coming with a roar, his cock pulsing as he filled her with what felt like endless spurts of hot cum.
The sensation triggered one more orgasm from Sakura, her pussy milking his cock for every last drop.
They lay tangled together on the ground, both breathing hard, Yamato's wood constructs finally releasing their hold on Sakura's body. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him, keeping him inside her.
"Don't pull out yet," she murmured against his neck. "I like feeling you inside me."
Yamato chuckled breathlessly. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Mmm, I hope not," Sakura said, rolling her hips experimentally. She felt him twitch inside her, already starting to harden again. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."
Yamato pulled back to look at her, his eyes widening. "Sakura, we just—you came at least five times—"
"Six," she corrected with a wicked grin. "And I told you, I'm Tsunade's apprentice. My stamina is legendary. Plus..." She clenched her inner muscles around his cock, making him groan. "I've been fantasizing about this for weeks. I have a lot of fantasies to work through."
"You're insatiable," Yamato said, but there was admiration in his voice.
"Is that a problem?" Sakura asked, her hand sliding down between their bodies to play with her clit.
Yamato watched her touch herself, his cock hardening fully inside her. "Not at all," he said, his voice dropping back into that commanding tone that made her shiver. "But if we're going to continue, we're doing this properly."
More wood erupted from the ground, but this time it formed a structure—a platform raised off the ground, with posts at each corner. Yamato pulled out of her making Sakura whimper at the loss and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the wooden platform.
"On your hands and knees," he commanded.
Sakura obeyed eagerly, positioning herself on the platform. Yamato used his Wood Style to create new restraints, binding her wrists to the front posts and her ankles to the back ones, leaving her on all fours and completely exposed.
"Much better," Yamato said, running his hands over her ass. "I've been wanting to see you like this. Bound and presented for me."
He spanked her, the sharp crack of his palm against her ass making Sakura yelp and moan. "You've been such a tease," he said, spanking her again. "Wearing those tight clothes, bending over in front of me, pressing that perfect ass against me during sparring."
"I was trying to get your attention," Sakura gasped as he spanked her a third time.
"Well, you have it now," Yamato said, positioning himself behind her. "And I'm going to make sure you remember this every time you sit down for the next week."
He thrust into her in one smooth motion, both of them groaning at the sensation. From this angle, he felt even bigger, even deeper, hitting spots that made Sakura's eyes roll back.
Yamato fucked her hard and fast, one hand gripping her hip while the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head back. "Is this what you wanted?" he growled. "To be tied up and used like this?"
"Yes!" Sakura cried out. "God, yes, use me, fuck me, don't stop!"
He didn't. He fucked her through multiple orgasms, his stamina seemingly endless now that he'd stopped holding back. When she got too loud, he created a wooden gag for her to bite down on. When her legs started to shake, he used his wood constructs to support her weight. When she begged for more, he gave her everything she asked for and then some.
They fucked on the platform, against a tree, on the ground again. Yamato took her in every position imaginable, always with some element of bondage, always with that perfect mix of control and intensity that Sakura craved.
At some point, as the sun began to set, Yamato had her pinned against a tree, her legs wrapped around his waist, wooden bonds holding her wrists above her head. He was fucking her with deep, measured strokes, his mouth on her neck.
"I can't believe we waited this long," he murmured against her skin.
"I can't believe you didn't realize what I wanted sooner," Sakura replied breathlessly. "I was practically throwing myself at you."
"I thought I was imagining it," Yamato admitted. "I thought it was just wishful thinking. You're so far out of my league—"
"Shut up and fuck me harder," Sakura interrupted, clenching around him.
Yamato laughed, the sound rough and genuine. "So demanding." But he obeyed, his pace increasing until Sakura was screaming her pleasure into the darkening sky.
When they finally collapsed together, both thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, the stars were beginning to appear overhead.
"We should probably head back," Yamato said eventually, though he made no move to get up.
"Probably," Sakura agreed, equally unmotivated to move. "But I'm scheduling another training session for tomorrow."
Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Tomorrow? Don't you need time to recover?"
Sakura grinned wickedly. "I told you, I can heal myself. And besides..." She traced a finger down his chest. "I have so many more fantasies we haven't explored yet. Did I mention the one where you tie me up in your apartment and keep me there all weekend?"
Yamato groaned, his cock twitching with interest despite their marathon session. "You really are going to be the death of me."
"But what a way to go," Sakura purred, kissing him deeply.
As they finally gathered their clothes and prepared to head back to the village, both of them knew that their "training sessions" had taken on a whole new meaning. And neither of them could wait for the next one.
Their training sessions became a more regular occurrence, though they quickly abandoned any pretense of actual combat training. Yamato's apartment became their primary venue, where he could use his Wood Style without worrying about being discovered.
Sakura discovered that Yamato's creativity with his abilities was boundless. He could create intricate rope-like bindings, suspended platforms, even furniture designed specifically for their activities. And his stamina, once unleashed, was more than a match for hers.
For his part, Yamato discovered that the quiet, reserved persona he'd maintained for years had been a cage of his own making. With Sakura, he could be himself—dominant, passionate, and yes, a complete freak in the bedroom and living room, and kitchen, and shower...
They kept their relationship secret, of course. It wouldn't do for people to know that the Fifth Hokage's apprentice was regularly being tied up and thoroughly fucked by her ANBU captain. But the secrecy only added to the excitement.
And if Tsunade noticed that her apprentice seemed happier and more relaxed than she'd been in months, and if she noticed that Yamato had a new spring in his step and a satisfied smile he couldn't quite hide, well... she was wise enough to keep her observations to herself.
After all, everyone deserved to find someone who understood their desires. Even—or perhaps especially—shinobi who spent their lives in service to the village.
And Sakura had definitely found what she was looking for.