"How did this happen?" Itachi asked himself, and shifted slightly to ease the pressure of the straps on his chest.
"No moving!" Inner Sakura snapped, and cracked her whip across his back. He didn't flinch – he was too well trained for that, and living with Kisame and the constant close contact with his biting scales had made his skin tough, but privately he registered the long red cuts that dug into his pale skin.
He had meant to incapacitate Naruto and Sasuke's pink haired companion – mesmerise her with his sharingan, and set her off to kill herself in front of the boys or some such thing. Naruto might have remembered the last time he tried using a woman against Jiraya all those years ago, but Itachi doubted it.
Instead, as soon as he had dragged her into his own private world, a fearsome figure had emerged from her mind, and utterly dominated his mindscape.
"You wanted me to die a virgin?" The black and white Sakura screamed. "Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to get Sasuke back so I can fuck him into the ground? There is no way I'm letting you take that away from me!" Her outfit, shifting from skirt-and-top to a distinctly dominatrix top (although the fuck-me boots, Itachi noticed, stayed) "Hell no! In fact," Here she caught the whip under his chin, and jerked his head painfully up, "Since this isn't reality, and just a jutsu… this might be the perfect opportunity to … practice."
The ball-gag prevented Itachi from saying anything, but if he could have, he would have whimpered. Then started to moan as she pushed him forward, and spread his legs.
Ukeness, after all, runs in the family.