Sakura

The invitation arrived on a black silk scroll, sealed with Miguel's personal emblem—a golden serpent devouring its own tail. Sakura hesitated as she received it from Ino's trembling hands, whose blue eyes now seemed glazed, pupils dilated as if she had taken a strong dose of poison.

"He... He wants to meet you," Ino whispered, her lips moist and swollen.

Sakura frowned. "Why are you talking like that? It sounds like you're dro—"

The scroll opened on its own in her hands. The message was simple:

"Come to dinner. Bring your body. Leave morality at the door."

Before she could react, the ground beneath her feet dissolved into black mist. When her vision returned, Sakura was kneeling in an immense hall, before a throne made of intertwined female bodies—Kurenai, Anko, Hinata, Naruko, all naked, all *modified*, with larger breasts, wider hips, mouths drooling in sync.

And in the center, Miguel, naked as a decadent god, his member already throbbing with anticipation.

"Ah, Sakura," he smiled, his white teeth cutting through the shadows, "you took your time."

She tried to stand. Her legs wouldn't obey. She tried to scream. Her voice vanished. When she looked down, she saw her own shadows gripping her wrists, pulling them back, arching her back and thrusting her breasts like an offering.

"You were always the smartest in the class," Miguel approached, his cold hand caressing her cheek, "so I'm going to give you a *special* lesson:"

He snapped his fingers.

The pain came first. The *transformation* followed. Sakura screamed as her breasts swelled, her nipples darkening and hardening like cherries. Her hips widened, her waist narrowed, her thighs thickened—all *molded* to please.

"N-No!" she cried, but her body was already writhing with pleasure, her vagina throbbing empty.

Miguel laughed. "Ah, but your *mind* still resists. Let's fix that."

He grabbed her pink hair and **** her to swallow his cock all the way to his balls.

"Take a deep breath, girl. This is going to hurt... in a good way."

When the first jet of divine semen hit her throat, Sakura *understood*:

She had never been a kunoichi.

Just a *bitch* waiting for the right leash.

And now, finally free of illusions, she smiled—while licking his fingers as if they were sacred.

**Thank you, Master.**

After all, the truth always set her free.

And she had never felt so *free*.