Angel's Order Prequel: The Sannin Era | By : c0p13r Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 10421 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
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~~~Years ago…~~~
Yahiko panted faster and faster, his voice rising to a higher pitch until a choked grunt seized his lungs. Konan pursed her lips as she watched him, both of them blushing and covered in a light sheen of sweat, glistening brilliantly in the candlelight tucked away in a corner of their shack.
Jiraiya and Nagato were elsewhere, conversing or training, trying to make sense of the newly acquired skills of the latter’s ringed eyes.
Neither Yahiko nor Konan minded be left alone. Since their passion for each other had started to flare, and their bodies yearned for contact, they explored the pleasures of intimacy. But from what Konan was discovering, as Yahiko’s pulsating shaft withdrew from her seconds before dowsing her exposed bellybutton with his seed, it never seemed to last long…
“Sorry,” Yahiko said with a tired laugh and smile. He tugged on his cock a few more times, depositing every dollop he could on his undeclared girlfriend. He bowed over her, supporting his weight with one hand while the other still milked his wilting dick. “I think… we’ll get better soon.”
He meant it as a rebuke of his stamina, but Konan, not wishing to demean the boy she cared for, though that maybe, just maybe, she needed some coaching herself…
~~~Present~~~
“Eck…! Grr…! Pfft! Gyahaha~!”
“Ah~, so have your lips finally loosened?” jeered the crafty Toad Hermit wagging a gentle feather against the Rain ninja’s bare foot. Not the normal methods of interrogation, but after so many years dealing with hardened, masochistic ninja, Jiraiya figured that trying a tactic reverse to pain might be a little more difficult to resist.
“You…! Ha! You son of a-!” The captured ninja headed into a frantic fit of furious laughter. Embedded in the cushiony-yet-restrictive flesh of a frog’s innards, there was no way for him to fight back against the Great Jiraiya’s tickling.
This tickle-torture carried on for the better part of an hour, and Jiraiya could commend the stubborn man’s tight-lipped policy, even for a Genin. But with a second set of lips to work with, he felt it would be productive to give a demonstration of what was in store for these Rain Genin. With a touch of his palm, Jiraiya transformed the hysteric captive into a green frog, promising that this was the fate of the second man if he did not start singing like a canary.
“Pain-sama is in the tallest tower,” the goatee Genin said outright. His lack of hesitation surprised the interrogator.
“Well, that was easy,” Jiraiya mused with a grin. For his captive’s comfort, he hid the feather away in his vest before the thorough questioning began. “Now tell me about this Pain. Tell me everything you know. And before you think about lying, know that the walls that hold you are monitoring your pulse. If you give me a fib…” He chuckled malevolently and withdrew the fiendish feather. “You’ll end up the same as your friend.”
~~~Thirty minutes, two feathers, and one titty-twister later~~~
Jiraiya was done gathering his information and hid away his reluctant informants. The last thing he needed was for them to run about, blabbing that some vigilante was on the case of God and his angel. No, he needed to be smart. A pervert didn’t live this long without knowing the fine art of sneaking. Subjugating the goatee Genin with his mysterious Toad ninjutsu, Jiraiya cleverly hid in the shadow of the common villager of the Rain Village.
The Genin marched on, unbothered by the downtrodden and drenched villagers. Some said ‘hi’, and the possessed casually responded before going on his way.
The tallest tower… Even as a Genin, luckily, this man often went that way to serve God. Down a secluded pathway, and no one was wiser. Jiraiya was on guard. He expected something… It was the kind of warning, a sixth sense, something picked up from his earlier years peeping on Tsunade. He called it his ‘Dangerous Woman’ sense.
But he wasn’t prepared for the flurry of paper sheets drifting down from above. Not some rubbish; this was a deliberate assault! Jiraiya’s subjugated prisoner was lost in a full-body paper cast before a countermeasure could be employed. After the target was rendered immobile, the attacker took form, materializing from paper as well with a spear with her. As his sense had told him: a dangerous woman nearby.
Paper could burn… Lunging from the shadows with a standard belch of flame, Jiraiya made himself known. His sudden attack was at least enough to fend off this angel of origami, allowing him a moment to prepare for the fight. His flattened physique expanded to normal size, and he was ready to confront this purple-haired assailant.
Such a familiar face… though lacking of the joy and hope he could once identify in a heartbeat. Yet, there was no doubt. His smile was ironic as he beheld his former student, Konan.
Just how long had it been…?
~~~Years ago…~~~
Konan put no fault on Yahiko. He wasn’t negligent to her since their secret relationship began, but he also kept hard focus on training. His aspiration to bring life and prosperity to their country was inspiring to say the least. Jiraiya-sensei had since taught them the basics of ninjutsu – which they’d become masters of – and even made their shabby shack into something worthwhile. Even these ridiculous frog costumes – while at first, were off-putting – became cozy to wear. The three orphans even donned the gear when practicing on their own! They felt they owed this tribute to the one who’d saved them from a fate of dying helplessly in the gutter. Just like he was owed this private time in the shack, to research and write a great novel that will make his name renowned for more than just being one of the Sannin… and the most perverted lecher this side of the Five Great Nations.
But, as fate would have it, Konan was interested to learn about that second title of his. It was no secret that he was a bit of a degenerate, so Konan thought if there was someone to ask about her personal matters with Yahiko, someone to trust, Jiraiya-sensei was that person.
Yahiko and Nagato were in the midst of a fierce bout with one another. Yahiko, ever boisterous, egged his partner on, yet Nagato’s natural talent afforded him the benefit of simply standing still and letting his powers alone push Yahiko back. A pulse of Chakra sent Yahiko spiraling through the air with a scream; an airborne frog that belly-flopped into the flooded fields.
No doubt he’d get right back up and charge again, this time looking for a weakness to exploit. Konan admired the tenacity, but it also meant that it was the perfect time to drop in on their sensei for a private lesson, to learn how to ease Yahiko’s tension and find what would make him happy.
She walked to the hut, which sounded oddly quiet. Normally, she’d be able to hear the scribble of his pen or his withheld gushing over a nudey magazine. No, now there was no noise whatsoever, and that meant there was a seal in place. And sure enough, in the corner of the doorframe was a hastily-placed tag with the character for ‘Silence’.
No doubt placed there by their teacher; she recognized the brushstrokes of the self-made tag. And being one to dabble in the paper arts, Konan had a gift of unsealing such nuisances. She dispelled Jiraiya’s tag with no effort, and the door was hers to open. And she did so before she could register the sounds from within.
The door opened just slightly so that she could peek in and make sure that there was no enemy. She and her comrades learned the hard way many times that danger could wait even where they felt safest.
The first thing her eyes registered in the lamplight was the closed novel – Jiraiya’s life’s work – next to his removed frog costume – which he should have been wearing at all times whenever they were dressed alike! She would have scolded him (politely, of course) for breaking that rule, if she could have found her voice when she saw her sensei.
“Ooh, Jiraiya-chan!” swooned a woman that Konan did not recognize, yet Jiraiya must have been all too familiar with her to be draping over her in such an obscene way, naked as he was. Whoever she was, he must’ve brought her back here from the Dairy Hut, a bar where scantily-clad women dressed in cow costumes that accentuated their curvy form, particularly their breasts, flashing their cleavage while bending over top pour drinks. Jiraiya frequented there a lot; it’d be no wonder one such waitress would be wooed by him and brought back to this otherwise sacred place.
He must’ve used the secret trapdoor, meant only for emergency evacuations. Another thing to scold him about, but scolding was the last thing on young Konan’s mind as she watched her teacher fuss giddily over the cow woman. He was nuzzling her neck, and her thighs parted around his naked waist. Her backside was elevated slightly by what appeared to be Nagato’s pillow.
“You certainly have a way with ladies, Jiraiya-chan,” she sung out a moan.
Chortling, drunkenly, Jiraiya raised his body up to leer down at her. “Of course,” he said deeply. He was wearing something on his head, Konan could see. Some fabric stretched over his head. A mask, maybe? Konan was truly curious and tried to decipher what it was. The color was familiar… almost like… her hair. Her face’s color drained.
Were those her panties?!
They were, and Jiraiya wore them proudly on his head like a forehead protector! Unaware that the owner of said panties had caught him in the act – the opening in the door had no light to expose them to – he cuddled up to the woman’s side, eyelevel with her bust. The cow-themed bikini was drawn down carefully with the tip of his finger until her pink nipple popped into view. He mused at it and studied with an inquisitive finger. “I know what the ladies like,” he boasted, grinning like a Cheshire cat as his nostrils flared over the woman’s assets. “And I know what boys want.” He pulled at her tender pebble then, stretching out the breast until the woman whined with desire. He chuckled excitedly, palming the entirety of the mound now. “And what boys want are things that go boing-boing and puff-puff!” He released, and then took a mouthful of the fleshy mound like a hungry babe.
The woman created more of a commotion as Jiraiya got more frenzied, but Konan didn’t stay to watch. Seeing her sensei stuff a woman’s breast in his mouth snapped her from the shock of seeing him wear her panties as a facemask. She pivoted and closed the scene of their debauchery in a single move, and then she fell back against the door, wishing that the ‘Silence’ was still in place as she heard giggles turn into sweaty moans.
Why was Jiraiya-sensei wearing her panties?
She should have felt outright violated, and she did! But, she also couldn’t help feeling a twinge of relief at being… included? It was not much of a secret, after all, that Yahiko had always been Jiraiya’s favorite; proud and true, always eager to learn more and do more with hope for the future of their land. And when Nagato’s Rinnegan made its appearance, well… The contact and attention with Yahiko seemed to be the most given to her in this hut.
Yet Jiraiya, however perverse it was, included her in some way. She almost could have smiled if not for the chills it sent up her spine.
~~~That Night~~~
“Get a good night’s sleep,” Jiraiya told his wards as they bustled around the small space they called home. Yahiko crammed a few more dumplings in his mouth before scurrying to his mat, which was in between Konan – who slept at the edge of the row of mats – and Nagato, who slept at Jiraiya’s side. “It was a tough day, but through all the hardships, a frog may always find a way to leap from branch to branch to get to the top of the tallest tree.”
Nagato commented that his pillow smelled strange.
“Sensei! Did you get a lot of writing done?!” Yahiko asked as he sunk underneath his blanket.
Jiraiya, in his sleeping robe, gave a noise that was neither a laugh nor a murmur. “Well, today was spent more for research,” he admitted, closing his eyes in reminiscence. “Yes, a writer always must be inspired by firsthand experience.”
While Yahiko agreed like an enthralled student should, and while Nagato turned his pillow over to discover the other side smelled just as funky, Konan waddled just on the edge of the lantern’s light. Poor Nagato could wonder why his futon smelled, but she wouldn’t say. It didn’t sit well with her, but she couldn’t antagonize their teacher and bring his perverted deeds up now!
“Konan!”
She nearly jumped when her teacher called out to her. Mechanically, she looked at him, and he was smiling at her. A pleasant smile, yet she saw the image of him wearing her panties on his head while a deviant’s smile creased his face… She swallowed and tried not to think of how she had seen him naked earlier, just the quickest glimpse of his nakedness, particularly the space between his legs. She hadn’t seen anything in detail, but it was enough to know that she could’ve if she tried.
“You’re quite sluggish after the training,” Jiraiya said to her, his face one of concern. “Are you alright?”
Sensei had put the panties back where he found them, and if she didn’t know what he had done with them, she wouldn’t have suspected a thing. But since she knew it had been ‘used’ and returned in its original state, she noticed that he could not mimic her origami mastery.
She put on a smile for him and nodded. “A little tired.” She held up a fist with determination. “But tomorrow, I’ll do my best, Sensei!”
Jiraiya laughed and said that was what he liked to hear. Then, as Konan hurried to her sleeping area, he reached over for the lamp and turned it off with a cheerful “Goodnight, tadpoles!”
“Goodnight, Jiraiya-sensei.”
“Night, Sensei!”
“Goodnight, Sensei…”
Konan was now alone in the dark with her thoughts, facing the wall. Her eyes did not close until she shifted awkwardly, squirming and tucking her thighs together. She thought about Yahiko, how it might have been better to talk to him tonight, alone.
Her legs crossed over one another. She was wearing the panties, the ones that matched the color of her hair and doubled as a facemask earlier. It felt… strange, like she could feel the warmth of his breath on it still. Having sex did not make her an expert on the matter, but she could feel a sort of thrill at behaving so irrationally. Was it that Jiraiya-sensei used them perversely? Or that she knew how he used them and wore them still while her secret boyfriend was none the wiser?
She didn’t think it was such a terrible thing, and with any luck, this crazy idea of hers might bring them closer together!
~~~Training the next afternoon, right before Jiraiya’s alone time~~~
“It seems the tadpoles have finally grown legs,” Jiraiya said proudly as his trio stood before him. Normally, after a rigorous round of ninjutsu practice, Yahiko, Nagato and Konan would all be bowing and trying to catch their breath. Now, decked out in their matching frog gear, they were merely winded and with satisfied smiles on their faces.
The head frog winked and lifted a thumb. “Looks like you won’t be needing this old hermit to teach you for much longer!” He laughed at his success at training these little urchins. For him, they were sure to surpass him and the other Sannin before long. After all, Nagato having that Rinnegan was an instant boost to their legend. And Orochimaru would lament his chance to help teach these kids and learn about the Rinnegan in the process. But when the snake loses a meal, the frog will take a leap instead!
“Sensei!” Konan called out, her posture stiff, arms stuck at her sides and back straight with a stretching neck. In Jiraiya’s sights, she formally asked for a private talk. “If you’ll listen to my request!” She added with a deep bow.
Jiraiya blinked. “Private?”
He did not ask for an explanation and led Konan back to the hut. She was unusually off balance, rare for a girl who could fold so carefully and saw lines that no one else could. The room’s light was always brighter in the day, even if constant rainclouds veiled the sunlight.
“So something…?”
“I want you to teach me, Sensei!” Konan swiftly cut him off, and before he could manage a retort to her vague request, she dropped to the floor to bow in formal tradition, her head touching the floor between her inward-pointing fingertips. She then looked back up, her big eyes shimmering with hope and desperation. “Teach me the art of sex!”
Jiraiya froze for a moment, and then his eyes popped. For this most insane of requests, how was he – the number one smut peddler – supposed to respond? The written stories were taken from life experiences, so he could not say that he only wrote fantasy! In truth, there was probably no better man to ask than him on the ways of sexual ninjutsu!
But still, it didn’t sit entirely right for him to take a disciple and turn her into a deviant like him… Not that kunoichi couldn’t use their ‘natural gifts’ as a useful weapon. Konoha certainly didn’t frequent the training of sexual acts for kunoichi benefit, but it was still something at some point that they would have to learn. Konan, it seemed, was able to pick up on her gender advantage on her own in her later teenage years.
“I don’t expect you to do it for free!” the blue-haired origami kunoichi pressed. She reached for the back pocket of her frog costume.
Now Jiraiya felt just plain scummy. Had she really rustled up some money in an effort to pay him to teach her debauchery? Surely they both could think of someone better suited…
“I know you liked them.” She held out a blue square for him. Was it one of her origami creations? It seemed plain compared to her usual talent.
And the payment was too innocent. He would not accept a child’s craft for a pervert’s lesson. “Konan,” he lament, reaching out and taking the offering. He was about to say no and tell her that she was not ready, but he found out the origami was soft cotton. And it unfolded when he carefully lifted it by a corner.
Konan blushed with a quaint, little smile while he discovered her present. Now she waited for his decision.
P-p-panties?! Jiraiya held them up with such reverence. His expert eye and touch and nose told him that this was not a fresh set; the elastic band was slightly stretched from use, the body heat from direct contact was there, and from it came the unmistakable aroma of woman. Jiraiya still felt scummy… How low was her opinion of him to come up with this as a reasonable means of payment? Scummy… but not bad, he mused as the lecher emerged.
“I saw you wearing them yesterday,” she admitted as he inspected her undergarment. “You… said you knew what men liked. I need to learn!”
For Yahiko!
Jiraiya had underestimated his girl ward. He had thought that she had been too young, too naïve for the practices of Sexual Jutsu! But no, she was gifted in knowing what men wanted if she presented him with a pair of her own, used panties, still fresh with the scent of her. She must have taken them off before training, slipping them in the pocket of her frog suit.
Lowering the panties to gaze at her, Jiraiya wanted to hold up two signs in recognition of her passing his test. He made a mental note of getting two such signs to give to girls whom he rated worthy.
True, Yahiko and Nagato were well on their way to becoming some of the best known ninja in their country. Now Konan too proved herself to be worthy of legend.
“K-Konan-chan,” he sang, a mask of perversion creasing his features upward. Such looks were unbecoming of a man of such renown and title. “Do you know what you are asking of me?”
“Yes!” she instantly and excitedly chirped. She humbly bowed again, and to reiterate what she wanted, she said, “Please, Jiraiya-sensei! Teach me how to please a man!”
The panties were clenched in his fist as Jiraiya tensed, trembling as he thanked the heavens for blessing his life.
But there was a matter at hand that needed tending to. Konan’s absence from training would draw the two boys in. Jiraiya could not trust to simply send them away, and he was conscious enough to know that it wasn’t the wisest thing to send them off alone anyway!
There had to be something, some way to disguise the situation. And sure enough, when he put his mind to it, he realized there was a way, something to fool energetic Yahiko and observational Nagato. A present of sorts from Tsunade, no less… tucked away in his satchel of shinobi effects.
However, before he enacted such a scheme, he had to make sure that Konan was committed. He had her panties in hand, sure; but perhaps there was something else to be garnered from this prelude.
As if to make sure she could not take them back, he eased her soft cotton down the neck of his frog suit, grinning slyly. “What you are asking, Konan,” he said lowly like a wizened sage should, “it is no light matter. I must know your commitment.”
“Anything!” was her eager reply.
A drip of blood from his nose… Jiraiya spun around in a trice, his index fingers fiddling with one another. Golden opportunities rarely shown so brilliantly; he had to seize the moment. He looked over his shoulder, and it would’ve been more appropriate for his wolfish smile to be seen while he wore sheep’s clothing. “I must know,” he began whilst containing his excitement, the sagely attitude abandoned. “What… are you wearing now?”
“What am I wearing?”
“Underneath,” he clarified with slobbery excitement.
Konan felt her cheeks flush. So her teacher wanted a demonstration of loyalty as well as a peepshow? She almost smirked resolutely when she lifted herself onto her froggy legs and feet. Then she turned her back on Jiraiya so that he could only hear the tantalizing slide of a zipper undoing its teeth. Jiraiya held his breath when her hand reached behind her and finished undoing the zipper meant for emergencies. He hadn’t a proper gander, but Konan fixed that for him when she bent over, the tight costume stretching against her body, the opening at her crotch spreading to reveal to Jiraiya the truth.
NOTHING!!
It was almost like reality had slugged the Toad Hermit in the face when his nose gushed. His eyes widened and fixated on Konan’s unveiling; the young lips separating the gentle meadow of blue fur, and then the slight plumpness of her rear and the separation of cheeks exposing that tiny, most conservative entrance.
Normally, such a sight would immediately be sketched in his private journal, but this was something seared into the Hermit’s memory to the most minute detail.
As if it wasn’t appeasement enough to display herself and reveal that the panties in his possession were on her just before suiting up for practice, Konan peeked back at him, still maintaining the exposing posture. She blushed redder, grinned a little, and then asked, “Do you like it?”
Jiraiya froze like his heart stopped. Blood was no longer running to his brain.
YOU PASS!! 100 POINTS!!
~~~
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