A/N: Porn is ridiculous. This is a fact. As you will see, there is no end to the desperate things people chug into Word to keep the reviews coming. I even made a ridiculous plot that gets condensed into one-and-a-half pages so you don't have to suffer the indignity of consistency later on. You can just get straight to the good stuff without missing anything important, you depraved sicko, you.

So I don't need to warn you, do I? If you don't like smut, or a story with no morals or purpose whatsoever, then stay far, far away.


Chapter 1 - Zetsu

Sakura hummed, the tiny sound filling the spacious lab, reverberating off every available wall and surface.

All alone.


She clenched her teeth as she reached for another chemical, this time for herself. No more chakra-enhancers, no more ointments for battle wounds, no. This was something for her, something to make her forget.

Nothing dangerous, really, just a little harmless sedative, something to take her away for a day, to a place where nothing mattered. Sighing, she raised the beaker up to eye level to check for precipitates. Skim that off the top, add some more chemicals, whip it up, and voila. A round trip ticket to nowhere in the land of sorrow.

Rolling her eyes, Sakura swished the liquid around, wondering what everyone back in Konoha would say if they saw her now. Judging by the manner of her abduction, they probably thought she was somewhere in the dungeon of the Terrifying Akatsuki Base being tortured and raped and interrogated daily.

Judging by the manner of her current surroundings, they couldn't be more wrong, and Sakura felt bad about it. She really did. It seemed all they needed was someone who knew shit about chemicals, and Sakura was an expert on the subject, unfortunately.

Damn missions to small towns where abducting a powerful kunoichi was greatly possible.

She slammed her fist against the counter, creating a barely noticeable crack in the sterile plastic cover.

And damn her for going.

She'd been walking aimlessly in the streets trying to find where the hell she was supposed to be when she felt a small prick in her lower back. Startled, she'd whipped around and pulled a small barb out of her back, and had time enough to be completely confused at the thorn-like object in her palm before she hit the ground unconscious.

Well, that was certainly stupid. And terribly predictable. She felt like something was wrong, so why didn't she do something about it?

Something else she hoped to forget in the next few minutes. A few more chemicals and it was all done: a strange, light blue chemical that gave off a silvery sheen when she passed it under the florescent lights.

It just wasn't fair. She expected to be down there in that imaginary torture room, and she wasn't. She was in a state-of-the-art chemistry lab, her every need was catered to, she had a goose-down mattress, she was treated genially by all the men, and some of them even flirted with her.

At least the flirting was kept to minute innuendo, and not a full-blown pickup contest between sexually depraved missing nin shut-ins. Lucky for her, some of them didn't even care to look her way, namely Itachi and Kakuzu.

But what did that all matter? Even if they were nice to her, as nice as criminals could be, and even if she did get used to them over the weeks past and talked to them sometimes, things would never be normal.

"And that's where you come in," Sakura cheerfully informed the beaker of blue liquid. The beaker said nothing, only waited patiently for Sakura to down its contents and replace it on the countertop. Letting her body slither limply to the floor, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, prepared to be whisked away to a world of whipped cream and pretty little flowers.

Or something.

Thirty minutes later, Sakura still felt sad, guilty, and depressed.


She stood up jerkily. Screw being sad, now she was just pissed. She picked up a stool sitting on the ground near her and heaved it over her head, and was about to launch it clean out the window when light taps on the lab door alerted her to a presence just outside. Suddenly embarrassed, Sakura dropped the stool back down to the floor with a bang and rushed to the door, opening it.


He brought a white hand up in between their bodies clutching a small, dark leaf. Nondescript and odorless, Sakura couldn't see what the point was. Oh, wait. He was saying something now. Or was he? Suddenly it was very hard to concentrate on his mouth.

"Miss Sakura, I hope I haven't bothered your research, but I seem to have made a small error."

Indeed, there were many other things that were nice to concentrate upon.

"That plant you asked for…I gave you the wrong one for that antidote you said you were making today. It looks like I gave you the—"

She was glad he wasn't wearing the cloak right now. His abs showed through the fishnet on his midriff, and they were lovely to stare at.

"—a powerful stimulant which increases the flow of—"

Carry your gaze a bit lower, and there would be...hmm. She vaguely wondered what color he was down there. Could she find out? Probably. Right now? Absolutely. She felt bold now, no trace of sadness. Why was she sad again?

"—as I'm sure you already know, because it's a rather distinct-looking plant. It's used by many prostitutes as a—Miss Sakura? Are you quite all right?"

She felt…good.

She did something she probably wouldn't have done otherwise, that being touching his flytrap. It was smooth to the touch, and he flinched, but watched her carefully, never really making a complaint about it.

"I never noticed how cool this thing looked," she admitted, and she slid a finger down the side of one of the leafy jaws. "It looks very endearing on you, Zetsu."

He tried to draw away this time. "Thank you, Miss Sakura, but about the plant—"

She felt like her insides were going to boil if Zetsu didn't give her some attention, so she took him by the hand and over by a long patient bench. "Do tell about this plant, Zetsu, but sit down."

He stared at her like she was about to pull a sword from her side and stab him through the heart, bright, golden eyes trained on her lips, her eyes, her chest for a split second, and then her eyes again.

She sat down beside him, and he turned halfway toward her, extending the plant. "This is a—"

She took the plant from him, running her fingers lightly over the back of his hand as the exchange took place. "Go on?"

He stopped only to catch the breath that had hitched in his throat. This wasn't like Sakura. Wasn't like Sakura at all. "It's a stimulant that is used primarily by concubines and—"

Her free hand slipped to his thigh, where she kneaded into the muscle, like she was remembering her medic-nin-issue massages, only not. Her fingers extended to his inner thigh, making a jolt of lust flare and then settle in his gut.

"—It's used to—"

"I know what it's used for," Sakura said, and she moved all that much closer to him. She dropped the plant in favor of tracing more of those jagged jaws around his head, tracing veins in the flytrap, passing over the tips and then plunging down. "But I wonder…how to use it?"

Zetsu's composure was crumbling. Oh, sure, he shouldn't be doing this—couldn't be doing this—because Sakura was the captive and the medic-nin and he should respect her and he should be a gentlemen and restrain himself… But it was so hard to do so when she was straddling his lap and running two warm, small hands under his shirt and up his bare chest.

"U—usually," he started, trying to pay attention to anything but Sakura and what she was doing and why she should get off his lap right now, "one would grind it into powder and then stir it into a drink or sniff it; however, it is possible to chemically al—al—alter it."

"Mm, you don't say," Sakura purred, and she pressed her lips to his jaw, then his neck, sucking and licking and making Zetsu clench the cushion of the bench for all he was worth.

"Which is wh—what I believe you have done, taking into consideration your current disposition and the dilation apparent in your eyes."

"Don't worry about it," she soothed, breath against his skin, fingers threading into his hair, and she was sliding down his chest, off of his lap, and her knees were on the floor before him. "Just…relax."

"What are you—?"

She unfastened his pants, and all of that carefully regarded self-control abruptly snapped.

That dark side of him, with the sinister thoughts and the foul mouth and all of those perverse, delicious notions, was having a heyday. The other side of Zetsu, though, was struggling quite nicely for a grab on anything to anchor him to the here and now.

And the here and the now were currently Sakura drawing out his length, leaning her breasts on his thighs for better access to him, and her mouth—

Her breath—

She took him wholly into his mouth, and he felt his fingernails tear the fabric of the cushion beneath him.

"Sakura," he panted, furrowing his brow and trying to keep his breathing even. But it was so hard when she was sliding her tongue along the slit, circling the tip and the barest hint of her teeth across his flesh made him dizzy.

"Sakura," his dark side urged, and it wasn't a plea to stop, it was a thank you. Thank you for fucking up with those chemicals and making yourself a purring, grinning, seductive little succubus. Thank you for being completely unaware of everything.

"Zetsu," she said, and it was in such a way that Zetsu that he was going to come right there and right now.

That said, she pulled away, and he almost whined at the loss. But she climbed onto his lap again, and before Zetsu knew what was going on and where he was, exactly, she eased him inside her.

The first contact was warm and slick and wet, and it was tight, best of all, and he panicked, because what if it was her first time? What if a mistake she'd made had led her to this?

He took her by the hips and was about to tell her to get off, please, because he didn't want to hurt her and he was better than all this, damn it, but she clenched around him and he instantly forgot what he was doing.

She held onto his shoulders, bobbing up and down, using her knees as leverage, and he automatically thrust toward her a couple times. A groan slipped from his lips and he pushed his head back against the wall. Every muscle in his body was tense, from the jaws of the flytrap to the very tips of his fingers, and he gritted his teeth, trying to make it last. Make it last, make it last, yes, but he'd never done anything quite like this before, and before she'd just—with her mouth—and God, she was whimpering like that—

He couldn't help it. He just couldn't. He was sure he was leaving bruises on her hips that she could easily heal later, but it didn't matter, because there was just this impeccable sensation that she was going to pull the life out of him, that every nerve ending was sensitized down to his toes, that she was still making those noises and when had she even taken off her panties, and it didn't matter, didn't matter, didn't matter—

He came on a cry of three parts bliss and one part frustration, but it was wonderful nonetheless, and even when Sakura pulled off of him, growling for some reason and cleaning herself off with a nearby washcloth, he was sitting on Cloud Nine.

He finally gathered enough wits to fasten his pants again, and when he stood up, Sakura was gone.

He was confused for a second. Had she even climaxed? He couldn't remember—

Sighing, he shuffled off to his quarters.