by: VeronikaLace and Soul in Shadow
Chapter 1 — The Curse of House Koyasu
She only wished she was in the mood to appreciate the tranquility; it had taken several days on roads not much better than this one, but she was finally nearing her destination. If the directions she received from the last inn were in any way accurate, House Koyasu should be waiting at the end of this winding road.
The task seemed simple enough; Lord Nobunaga was in the midst of his campaign to the south, amassing his forces and securing allegiances from the other local lords, and needed someone to survey this particular prefecture to gauge its position in the war. As remote as it was though, it seemed unlikely that its small population could sway the conflict in either direction, but Lord Nobunaga was nothing if not thorough.
At least, that was the cover story she was to present. Her travel satchel was heavy with scrolls of authority and signed mandates from all the proper offices, enough to allay even the most suspicious of local magistrates. Her attire was practical but expensive; fine silks and perfectly dyed wools and cottons. Her mount was fine and strong. She bore all the traipings of a courtier from the court of the greatest warlord in the nation. She’d accepted other missions with not even half as much before.
So why was she feeling so uneasy?
As she maneuvered her horse along the curving dirt path, accompanied by the droning of cicadas and the occasional song of a rushing bird, she recalled the hushed conversation she’d had with her primary contact, a rotund informant she knew only as Gousaku.
They’d worked together in the past, so when he came to her with this particular assignment, she saw plainly how uncharacteristically troubled he seemed. His heavy jowels rumbled as he spoke, punctuated by a frequent clicking noise he made with his tongue. She knew Gousaku tended to do that when something was annoying him, as if he was trying to dislodge a particularly tenacious nugget of food from between his teeth, and this time, he had been clicking like mad.
“I know it sounds far-fetched, Lace-san,” he explained, rubbing his multiple chins idly, “but his excellency’s envoy seemed completely sincere. They want you to investigate the Koyasu family’s estate and surrounding land holdings, and verify whether these rumors of…demons…is true.”
Demons. Oni. Ghost stories and superstition. Lace tightened her grip on the reigns, feeling her fingers sink into the supple leather. They weren’t always tall-tales; this she knew from personal experience. More often than not though, the “oni” turned out to be a local samurai drunk out of his mind and far too liberal with his sword, or a group of bandits hiding behind a veil of fear. It was far less often that news of a real oni ever made it to the ears of the local lords…but that was because real oni very seldom left anyone behind to recount their existence.
Some people believed in them enough, feared them enough, to take even shallow rumors of their movements completely seriously. If Lord Nobunaga did not, then someone in his chain of command certainly did. Gousaku had arrived with all the paperwork, and even more gold, on their very first meeting.
“You come highly recommended,” he added, meaning to compliment her, “There aren’t many who can rightly claim to have training in this sort of thing, and fewer still who have your experience and…discretion. His lordship trusts you will carry out your duties swiftly and effectively.”
Her duties. Her job, more like. Visit the Koyasu barony, investigate the spate of strange disappearances and unusual happenings, and determine if any of the rumors bore an ounce of truth; like how Koyasu Akehito, the local daimyo, had apparently wed a commoner who claimed to be able to cure any ailment; that said commoner arrived by herself and went about blessing rice fields into unbelievable fertility; that since their marriage, Lord Koyasu has rarely been seen, and seemed to be abdicating all his responsibilities onto his new wife.
Kageyama Yoko. The stories about her alone filled two whole scrolls.
The wind picked up, whipping her golden blonde hair about where she’d tied it in a simple ponytail. She had spent the long travel hours internalizing her cover story; she was an envoy of Lord Nobunaga, a foreigner working in his service as part of a bargain he’d made with the nations beyond the sea; such was his lordship’s power and authority that even the pale-men of the west came to pay him homage. What better way to show them the beauty and glory of the nation of Japan than to allow one of their own to survey it for him?
She had no bodyguards; a gaijin had very little value to the Nobunaga court, but any slight against her would be seen as a slight against him, and so she had the protection of his name and sigil without requiring the manpower of an armed escort. Besides, most people took one look at her and scurried the other way. Xenophobia was its own protection, in a way, and if push actually came to shove…
Reflexively she reached down and felt the short saya cinched at her waist, and the wakizashi sleeping therein. If anyone dared lay a hand on her, they’d pay swiftly for the miscalculation—for she was ninja, and where she walked, death followed not far behind.
House Koyasu was exactly where the innkeeper said it would be. As she reached the end of the overgrown dirt path, the forest suddenly opened up to reveal a wide clearing cut into the heart of the beating woods. A tall wooden torii framed the entry way, its once-vibrant red paint dull and chipped. Beyond it, a small cobblestone path led up to a massive three story house, larger even than the ones she’d seen in the more prosperous baronies to the south. The Koyasu family was very old, and their holdings were known for their unusual wealth amassed over the centuries. Koyasu House itself was the seat of that wealth, each generation adding to the structure and expanding its perimeter. It was a testament to the power of family and the strength of tradition, and the whole of the region operated in its figurative shadow. Only the Koyasu family’s apparent disdain for wider ambitions kept them beneath the notice of their more aggressive counterparts, who saw them as recluses and eccentrics. Better to leave them be out here in the middle of nowhere than to waste the resources to provoke them into a fight.
Lace was still taking in the sight of the dark stained wood and starkly white paper windows when the central door creaked open, and a small figure in a bright blue kimono slipped out. She hastened to the path, clutching a small roll of paper in her hands. She stopped in front of Lace’s horse, and fell into a deep bow.
“Lace-sama, welcome, we’ve been eagerly expecting your arrival,” the woman said, still bowed. She extended her arm, offering up the roll of paper, “We received notice of your coming only two days ago, and beg your pardon that we could not provide you a proper escort during your travels.”
She straightened, and for the first time Lace got a good look at her features. She was young, barely out of her teens, with short dark hair and wide, brown eyes. She was trying her best to be polite, but she couldn’t seem to stop her eyes from darting up to glance at Lace’s startling blonde hair. It was probably the first time the girl had ever seen someone with western features before, and no amount of early notification could suppress her innate curiosity.
The girl introduced herself only as Michiko, a courtier in the services of Lord Koyasu. She was to show their visitor to her room and allow her time to rest from her arduous journey before she met with Lord and Lady Koyasu. A dinner was being prepared even now. She would also take her horse to be stabled and fed.
Even as Michiko explained all this, Lace couldn’t help but notice how utterly still the rest of the household was. There was no sound, other than the young girl talking; even the cicadas had fallen silent, and the breeze had ceased dancing through the trees.
Once more, a sense of disquiet turned in Lace’s stomach, but the journey had been long and not a little taxing; it could simply be fatigue playing on her nerves. Thanking Michiko for her gracious reception, she dismounted, and was soon shown to a large, lavish room. Everything inside was available for her use and comfort, the young courtier explained. She had a few hours before dinner would be prepared, but in the meantime someone would be by with fresh tea, and Michiko herself would return to fetch her for the audience with the Lord and Lady.
She slid the partition shut behind her, and at once, Lace found herself alone. Lace couldn’t help but smile as Michiko closed the door, impressed not for the first time at the enthusiasm of youth.
“And the naiveté,” she said to herself, her gaze hardening in reflection. She shook her head and turned to the room.
On the off-chance she was being observed, one can never be too careful, she went through the mundane routine of unpacking. Clothing was squared neatly away in the provided furnishings. Documents were organized into her ever-present satchel.
All of the more…exotic…possessions were hiding in plain sight. The sword tucked within a kimono, poisons hiding among ink jars, and so forth.
She then set to her hair. Taking advantage of a beautiful and surprisingly feminine dressing table, complete with mirror, she untied the pony tail and meticulously brushed it smooth. She could actually feel the tension of the road fade away with each tangle straightened.
Picking out the only truly formal gown that was part of her present wardrobe, Lace smiled again. She’d specifically chosen something with a western styling, which meant it displayed most locals should find a startling amount of cleavage. It was not corseted, but snuggly tailored and the deep blue tones accented her coloring nicely.
“Every advantage,” she said to herself. Using intricate sleight of hand, again, just in case she was being observed, she made secretly tucked away the various tools of her trade in hidden sheaths and pockets.
With a few finishing touches for jewelry, now ready for dinner, she stood and began to wander the room, admiring every detail and running her fingertips over almost every surface as she waited patiently for the meal.
As she paced the perimeter of the room, her fingers trailing across the wood panels, something abruptly caught her attention. She stopped short, brow furrowing, and back up a half-pace. She turned fully to face the wall, and ran the flat of her hand across the spot that had attracted her attention.
There, cut into the wood, were four shallow furrows spaced unevenly apart. Lace leaned in closer, examining the faded markings in the fading afternoon light. On a hunch, she spread her fingers over the marks, and found them to line up almost perfectly with her hand.
Her heart skipped a beat. Scratch marks, they were unmistakable, though someone had taken the time to try polishing them away.
Looking closer, she noticed an almost imperceptible matching set of markings just to her left. Repeating the exercise with her other hand, she discovered it was a match as well.
Someone had scrapped their fingers across this wall, and not that long ago too. She turned to face the meticulously cleaned chamber, and eyed it with growing suspicion. She completed her circuit of the walls but found no other marks of note; the furniture likewise came away clean. All that was left was the wooden dais that supported a mattress low to the ground.
This time she didn’t need her sense of touch; she plainly saw the scuff marks on the corner closest to her. Crouching beside it, she traced the markings once more with her fingertips, and felt the worn, uneven groves left behind.
Ropes made indentations like that; at least, they did when they were moved with some force.
She found similar markings at the other three corners.
By the time she was done investigating the room, the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and with it, the sounds of the Koyasu house seemed to come alive.
Beyond the walls of her chamber she could hear shuffling movement and short, hushed whispers. For a house that had been so deathly silent only minutes ago, the change was rather striking. Distantly she could hear the clanging of pots and pans, and the smells of cooking began to waft throughout the mansion.
A moment later, she heard a small knock at her door, followed by the muffled voice of Michiko on the other side.
“Lace-sama?” she said, “I’m to fetch you for dinner now.”
Lace took a moment before answering to reflect… rope marks in the four corners of the room? A sudden and distinct memory of herself bound by ropes tied to her wrists and ankles, spread so tight they held her body suspended face-up over a wide pit. She shuddered as she remembered wet tendrils rising impossibly from it and swarming over every inch of her body while she cried and struggled. Her erstwhile Ninja lords were gathered round laughing and wagering…
Lace staggered just a bit and steadied herself against the door. It took a moment, but she methodically walled that memory away once more. Only when she was sure the sensations were quelled did she clear her throat.
“Very good, Michiko.”
She slid the door opened smiled and bowed very lightly to the young girl. After retrieving her letter of introduction from the satchel, she then followed her, taking every opportunity to soak in the details and layout of the house.
Along the way she queried Michiko idly… how long had she worked here? Does she have many friends? Have things changed a great deal since her lord’s marriage? She kept the tone light, almost as if simply gossiping with a girlfriend. And with every question, every exchange, she would use her psychic gift to gently encourage the girl to trust and share, and to see if any stray thoughts might flirt by without being spoken by her.
Michiko reddened noticeably, unused to having someone of such importance paying so much attention to her. She stammered a response to Lace’s questions as she led her through the winding house.
“I’ve um, I’ve been working in the services of Lady Yoko for about three weeks now. My father is a farmer, and our fields…it’s been a bad year. Very bad. But all that changed when Lady Yoko arrived!”
Lace could feel the swirl of emotion playing across the girl’s consciousness; feelings of gratitude, of devotion…but beneath that, a streak of something else. Uncertainty? Fear, even? But as soon as it came it was gone, and Michiko was still talking.
“She said the chi of the land was flowing badly through our lands, and that was stopping the plants from growing. She offered to bless the fields so that they would prosper. At first my father turned her away; he’s a simple man, and doesn’t believe much in spirits or gods. It was only later, after some of our neighbors showed him the sudden changes in their fields, did he seek her out.”
She swallowed audibly.
“My family is poor, Lace-sama; we did not have anything of worth to give in exchange for her help. She said that in lieu of paying, they could simply allow me to come help her here, in the mansion. I’ve been here ever since. It’s not hard work; mostly I do the same things I did at home, but Lady Yoko says she needs me to learn to read, so that I can better help with the duties of the court. I’ve…I’ve been working very hard at that…”
“That’s wonderful Michiko,” Lace replied, remaining casual as they traversed the halls. “Reading is a rare and precious skill. You should be particularly grateful to Lady Yoko for that.”
She touched the girl on the the shoulder. It was a breach in cultural norms, but there are advantages to being a gaijin… such things are usual forgiven, or at least overlooked, and a great deal can be learned from a first touch, especially when it’s a surprise.
Michiko yelped, almost jumping at the unexpected contact. She whirled on Lace, apologizing profusely. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t expect that! Lady Yoko suggested you might be…different…I just was ill-prepared. Please, forgive the outburst…!”
Through the girls’ frantic apologies, the sudden spark of emotion Lace felt travel up her hand at the moment of contact began to coalesce into vague, foggy images.
A dark hallway lit by pale moonlight. A stark white hand reaching out of the shadows, clamping firmly on her shoulder. A cry of alarm, smothered immediately by insistent, commanding lips. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears as everything began to grow hazy…hot…
With effort, Lace managed not to betray the discovery in her expression. But rather bowed apologetically to the startled girl.
“It is I who should apologize Michiko-san.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Sometimes even a courtier forgets her manners.”
Michiko swallowed audibly, looking slightly paler. She hastened her steps through the stately halls, until finally they arrived at a large double set of paper-screened doors.
“We’re here, Lace-sama,” she whispered, moving to open the panel for her to enter. “Please, come.”
Lace nodded, turning to the dining hall, “Ah. Wonderful. Thank you.”
The banquet room was the most opulent chamber Lace had seen so far; whereas the rest of the house was cast in the same clean, practical lines she’d come to expect from her travels, here the room was decorated with long, expensive silk drapery, and lit by bright paper lanterns. A bamboo mat dominated the center of the chamber, atop which sat a long, wide table customarily low to the ground. Plates of steaming food were arranged artfully all the way down its length, enough to feed ten people, though Lace only saw seat cushions for two.
Michiko whispered to her from the entryway. “Please, be seated. Lady Yoko will be here shortly.”
She slid the panel shut, and once more, Lace found herself alone.
After surveying the room for a few moments, she stepped forward with quiet assurance walking to stand before the place setting at the opposite side of the table. There she placed the letter, properly situated on the left edge of the table. She then turned and walked slowly to her seat, letting her fingernails trail along it’s surface the whole way, once again absorbing any details she could.
She then sat gracefully, placed both palms on the table in front of her, closed her eyes and for the first time absorbed the movements, the physical vibrations of the house.
A rush of information came spilling up from the floor beneath her. While the room itself seemed picturesquely placid and serene, all around them the adjoining rooms were a hive of movement as people wove too and fro on any number of tasks and missions. She could feel floorboards being scrubbed, linens being carried to wash, the clatter of plates falling to the ground. Much effort was being made to keep the banquet moving smoothly, and so far she was the only one there.
Lace found it a little odd that so much activity was happening now, when most normal households would be winding down for the evening.
Before she could contemplate much further, the ring of shamisen chords sang in the air, and the heavy panels on the opposite wall slowly began to slide open.
They parted to reveal a tall woman with alabaster skin so fair she seemed almost luminous. The exquisitely embroidered purple silk kimono was perfectly tailored and conformed to her every curve. Hair as black as night fell in great waves, reaching nearly to the small of her back; an ornate orchid brooch pinned her bangs to the side and away from her emerald, almond-shaped eyes.
The red painted on her lips was all the more striking for the fairness of her skin. Her eyes settled on Lace seated at the table, and she smiled.
“Greetings, Lace-sama,” the woman purred, bowing deeply, “We are most honored to have you visit our humble home.”
She straightened, and fixed Lace’s blue eyes with an almost unnerving stare. “I am Koyasu Yoko; wife of our lord Akehito, and mistress of this house.”
Lace stood and stepped politely to the side of the table so her hostess could see her fully, then bowed her deepest bow since arriving and held it looking down for just a moment.
“You honor me, Mistress Yoko-sama, with your welcome and generous hospitality,” she said before rising with a warm smile. “My Lord Obunaga specially asked I express to you his personal greeting and his fervent hope to soon meet you personally. He also asked me to confirm the rumor of your striking beauty, Miss. I look forward to his smile at my assurances.”
With that, she fell silent, though carefully gauging the reaction. From prudence, she chose not to use any psychic gift for now… just in case.
If Lady Yoko was at all perturbed by Lace’s choice of dress she gave no hint. In fact, there was a sly, almost impish curl to her lips as she took in the sight of the lovely gaijin, and her generously displayed assets.
“You flatter me,” she said, “But you do yourself a tremendous disservice at the same time. If I were Lord Nobunaga, I would have been aghast at the thought of sending someone so…striking…on such an errand by herself. We live in troubled times, and death might be the most merciful thing to befall a maiden found alone on these roads.”
She seemed to be growing impatient with the formality of their parlance, and urged Lace to sit down. “But enough, you must be famished. Dine with me. We can discuss your duties later; for now, it would please me to learn more about you.”
She ignored the cushion waiting at the opposite end of the table, and settled to her knees in the space adjacent to Lace’s spot. She retrieved a small clay pot with her slender fingers, and poured them both a saucer of sake.
“Do you drink sake?” she said, smiling as if sharing something scandalous, “I’ve developed something of a taste for it; I fear my husband’s habits are rubbing off on me.”
“I adore sake,” Lace replied smiling conspiratorially as she sank to the pillow next to her. “Your husband won’t be joining us then?”
Lace paid special attention to Yoko’s movement, looking for indicators of dance or martial arts training; there were usually tell-tale clues. As the conversation unfolded, Lace began to tentatively, almost flirtatiously, steal glimpses of her surface thoughts and feelings.
Lady Yoko smiled coyly, and absently brushed a long lock of hair back over her shoulder. “My Lord sends his deepest apologies, but the day has been taxing for him, and he needs to rest if he is to maintain his responsibilities to the people in his care. He wholly expects to meet with you as soon as he is able.”
Her mannerisms were refined and articulate, but bespoke of no specialized training besides the practiced motions of a skilled courtesan.
As she spoke, Lace caught sight of a red mark set against the hollow of Lady Yoko’s shoulder where it peeked out from beneath her slim robe. She noticed the others soon after, and immediately recognized them for what they were; love bites, dotting the woman’s shoulders, neck, upper chest, and god only knew where else. A thin layer of powder sought to mask them, but her skin was so fair they were still plainly visible.
Poking idly at her psyche, Lace found something she wasn’t expecting; Lady Yoko was suffused with a warm, heady glow; feelings of contentment flowed atop a deeper current of that sang of devotion, adoration, love. Even briefly exposed to it, she felt her own cheeks suddenly coloring, and suddenly remembered what Lady Yoko had just said.
The Lord Koyasu was exhausted, was he? Well, one didn’t have to have too active an imagination to figure out why.
They chatted for a long while, and Lace quickly found herself peppered with seemingly endless questions about life beyond the eastern sea, and her services to Lord Nobunaga’s war effort; Lady Yoko played the gracious host perfectly, always quick to offer a sampling off one of the many dishes lining the table, and always swift to refill Lace’s sake dish whenever it was emptied.
Her own dish remained curiously untouched.
Somewhat taken aback by the feelings she sensed in her hostess, Lace still engaged in the conversation amiably. She answered the questions with enough specificity to convey authenticity, but enough vaguery to frustrate further questions for which she might be unprepared.
And, she responded in kind. Asking the script of questions regarding the Lords estate, and resources. Always polite, and general in nature. But Lace wanted to take this opportunity to try and gauge how involved the lady was in daily operations.
Then, “Oh my, Lady Yoko . You haven’t had a single morsel of food. I feel so rude.”.
Yoko looked down quizzically at the small dish of untouched sake, and laughed jovially.
“Where has my head been? Your stories of your homeland are far too engrossing, Lace-san. But here, let us toast then to your safe arrival, and to the success of your mission.”
She picked the sake bottle up by its stubby neck, and with a wink tossed the entirety of its fiery contents back in three swift gulps. Exhaling loudly and wincing as the alcohol singed her windpipe, she nonetheless bade Lace to finish off her own drink.
She began to recount how she arrived in the region, a traveling priestess of humble origins, and how she had met Akehito after aiding some of the local farmers with their fallow fields. It had been love at first sight, she claimed, and the two were wed before next the moon was full. Her husband trusted her completely, and had given her extensive authority over the mansion and the surrounding lands while he devoted himself to more pious and spiritual efforts.
Distantly they heard a low chime. Lady Yoko stopped in the middle of describing her duties to Lace, titling her head slightly at the sound. She nodded, and smiled apologetically at her guest.
“I regret we will have to end our dinner a little earlier than expected; that sound means my husband is awake, and he will be looking for me before long. I will make sure he is prepared to meet with you tomorrow evening. I must spend much of tomorrow setting the accounts of the barony in order, so I regret I too will be unavailable until sunset, but you have our blessing to travel anywhere within the province you so choose. No barriers will impede your assessment for Lord Nobunaga; merely present this seal and all will do as you ask them.”
She handed Lace a tightly wound scroll fastened with a strip of crimson silk. During the hand-off, Yoko’s fingers seemed to linger just a heartbeat longer than they should have against Lace’s slender hand, and when she looked up she noticed the same bemused smirk and smoky glint had returned to her features.
“You must be tired after your long journey,” she said softly, her brilliant green eyes almost shimmering in the lamplight. “Come. Let me show you to your quarters.”
“Thank you Lady Yoko,” Lace replied, “there are so many twists and turns on the way here I’m sure I’d never find my way back without a guide.”
It was a lie of course. She could find her way back blindfolded without touching a wall, but she smiled and followed politely. Her calm pleased expression masked inner turmoil. That the Lady was conveniently unavailable by day in a house that seemed all but abandoned until dusk was a strained coincidence at best. She clearly didn’t hunger for ordinary food and could drink sake at a pace that would fell a seasoned dockworker four times her weight.
At the same time she was surprisingly warm and friendly. Certainly charming and appeared to be full of light and warmth and… Well… Life.
Hardly the classic demon pedigree.
Still, the marks in her room, Michikos vision and her own nagging instinct cautioned Lace something was amiss. “Regardless,” she thought to herself, “tactically, I must assume the worst. Her order had many sayings. One of her favorites: On a mission, stay on guard until you know there is no danger. Then stay on guard some more.”
Lady Yoko smiled as she rose, offering her hand to help Lace stand. “Come.”
She held her hand all the way back through the long passageways, a rare breach of personal etiquette for someone of her station, but she seemed utterly heedless of the taboo. The roil of her surface thoughts betrayed only a sense of wild exuberance and a playful, mischievous streak of someone doing something they knew would provoke admonition.
Her hand was soft, and warm; almost unusually so. Perhaps it was the sake? There was noticeably more color on her noble features, but she walked with confidence and grace, with not a hint of a stagger.
“It took me a week before I could find my way around here without a handmaiden to guide me,” she said, “I’ve never lived in a place so large, or with so many rooms. I’m not quite sure I’m used to it yet, but my husband is exceedingly proud of his family’s heritage, and this great house is the physical proof of their achievements.”
They reached Lace’s door, having encountered no servants or bondsmen anywhere in their return. Even Michiko had seemingly vanished into the house’s labyrinthine interior. Yoko pushed the sliding partition aside, and gestured for Lace to enter.
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, it’s magnificent. I could spend a week just exploring and enjoying all the nooks and crannies.”
Lace steped into the room, turned to bid lady Yoko good night, then startled and took a step back.
As soon as the blonde had stepped inside, Yoko had slipped in after, and shut the door behind them.
“I… Is, is there something you wanted to speak with me about or privately?”
Lady Yoko paused, her back against the screen door. The moonlight from the open window made her fair skin seem almost luminous. The dim changed the hue of smile from crimson to a red so deep it might have been black.
“Do you take me for a fool, Lace-san?”
Lace angled her chin ever so slightly on response then replied,“Have I given offense Lady Yoko?”
The mistress of House Koyasu began stepping towards her, emerald eyes glinting.
“Offense? Of course not; you’ve been the perfect guest. Cordial, polite, and exceedingly charming.”
She pursed her lips. “Perhaps a little too charming.”
“There are pots, and then there are kettles, Yoko-san,” Lace countered. Her face still wore his smile, but she planted 1 foot directly behind her and angled her hands politely between two of them. Her body language saying, “stop.”
“I may be from humble roots, but I am not naive in the ways of the world,” she said, nodding at Lace’s attire. “Lord Nobunaga has not been coy with his ambitions. He has long sought the support of the Koyasu family, for the food our lands can produce and for the gold in our coffers, but we have humbly insisted we are not interested in his war or his affairs. Now he sends you, a beautiful, rare flower, alone, to entreat with my husband. You said it yourself, you expected to meet with him tonight…with all your loveliness on full display.”
She smirked, confident certainty flashing across her minds-eye. “You were sent here to seduce my husband, weren’t you? To sweeten the bargain for Lord Nobunaga. Perhaps the fortunes yet smile upon me that he was indisposed, for I confess…I’m not sure he could have refused.”
“Something tells me luck plays a very small role in your affairs, Yoko-San.” Lace turned and continued speaking as she walked slowly into the room. “And war is coming, whether you approve or not. It will affect us all. Every household every business every person, born high or low.”
“Will it require sacrifice and contribution? Of course. But my Lord will win. Consider the bounties he will rightly share with those who he considers friends… bounties taken from those he does not.”
She turned upon reaching the bed holding your arms politely but fixing the Lady with an icy stare.
“And if you think I was paid to offer my virtues, you mistake me entirely.”
The confidence in Yoko’s gaze wavered a bit, her brow furrow in as she absorbed what Lace was telling her. Then something seemed to change. Her features relaxed, and she no longer seemed to be looking at Lace so much as through her. The effect was not a little disconcerting.
When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“So much pain…what roads have you travelled, for such sorrow to weigh upon your heart?”
Place filled her expression soften. “it is not easy being what I am, where I am.”
She smiled a bit and added, “but, you were right in the dining hall, I am weary from my travels. Perhaps a good nights rest, and a bit less sake will cool my tongue.”
Yoko still seemed lost in thought, but bowed deeply, saying, “Of course. Please forgive my outburst; I confess I find myself jealously protective of my husband. Especially with so singular a visitor beneath our roof.”
She turned to leave, sliding the door open, but stopped just short of stepping through. She turned to regard Lace over her shoulder.
“It seems I was mistaken about who the fortunes have sided with. I know not what pain you have endured…but perhaps I am meant to heal you, too.
Just like I healed my husband.”
And with that, she left, silently sliding the door shut in her wake.
Lace stood watching the door for a few moments, eyebrow raised. Not what she expected. Seemingly more emotional, but of course that could be a ruse. Her mood seemed to shift so rapidly, almost mercurial. But then that was a common tactic in interrogation.
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
Still, Lace felt confided she’s managed to penetrate the armor a bit.
She then set about the routine of putting herself to bed. Changing into a very light sleeping gown, she arranged the pillows just so and settled in after extinguishing the lantern. She willed herself to a light sleep and then wake after two hours had passed. She needed the rest, but needed to begin real reconnaissance even more.
* * *
Unlike other rooms of the mansion, this one had a proper door, a heavy wooden disk bisected down the middle and reinforced with sturdy lengths of iron. The sound of the heavy lock being pulled back, and the door creaking open, was enough to cause the figure laying on the bed to stir.
“Why did you dally, Yoko? I summoned you quite some time ago,” a low voice rasped.
Lady Yoko finished shutting the door, and turned to face the bed. Her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry, my lord. I was attending to our guest.”
“Ahh…the envoy…the gaijin…” the voice said, rumbling hungrily. “Was it as we suspected? Is she indeed bait from our ‘ally’ Lord Nobunaga?”
Yoko approached the bed, shaking her head uncertainly. “It seems we may have judged her prematurely, my love. She seems sincere in her intentions. Or she’s simply a much more talented liar than I give her credit for.”
“I will judge for myself, tomorrow…but for now, I’m hungry, Yoko. Always hungry…”
She smiled sympathetically, “Of course, darling. I have not forgotten about you. Your sustenance is being prepared as we speak.”
She began untying the knot holding her robe in place.
“In the meantime, perhaps I can entertain you? An appetizer, if you will…?”
She let the robe fall from her shoulders to puddle around her ankles. She was naked underneath, and the sight of her elicited a growl from the silken canopy.
“Yesss…come to me, wife. Come…!”
She shivered as the raw hunger in his voice made her skin erupt in goose bumps. She bowed her head meekly, and slowly slinked towards the bed. “Yes, master. I shall serve…I shall obey…”
The curtains parted, and she slipped into the waiting embrace of pale arms corded in sinewy muscle, and fingertips ending in nails as sharp as claws.
* * *
After restoring her calm she reached out with her senses…. Feeling the vibrations of the house. She had to make sure no one was observing her before making her next move.
Lace could feel the stirrings and movements of individuals elsewhere in the household, but they remained distant from her and engaged in their own activities. It was as opportune a chance as she was likely to have to move unawares.
Lace slipped out of the covers and adjusted the arrangement of the pillows, causing them to settle into a shape that could pass for a slumbering body. In the span of two minutes she slipped on her gray gi and tight leggings. She pulled her hair to a pony tail then lifted her hood into position to hide her blonde strands.
In a moment she was out the window and scaling to the roof to seek access to a crawl space or attics, to search as much of the mansion as possible without risking discovery. The full moon cast far too much light across the rooftops for proper concealment, so she moved quickly across the ceramic tiles, her practiced steps making hardly any sound at all.
A quick look around the structure suggested a simple arrangement to navigate; the house was comprised of three levels, each seated atop the previous, with the bottom-most layer being the broadest and the upper-most seemingly dominated by a single massive room.
Beneath her the sounds of the mansion seemed utterly mundane; she could hear people moving through the halls, and a myriad of noises associated with its upkeep. The veneer of normalcy made what happened next all the more startling.
A cry cut through the night, faint enough that it might have gone unnoticed to someone without Lace’s considerable training and sensitivity, but it immediately snapped her to attention. She fell to a crouch, hiding in a deep shadow of a raised parapet, and listened again.
She counted the moments in heartbeats; she concentrated, trying to place the sound from memory, when all at once she heard it again.
The cry was not quite a scream…and female. It was coming from the uppermost chamber.
“Naturally,” Lace breathed under her breath. She weighed her options. To circle the too floor for reconnaissance would be the most tactically sound thing to do. But it was a scream and thins could be urgent in nature.
Sword drawn and held low, she approached the upper floor. She stole her way under a top balcony, then climbed and peered carefully over the railing
She was unprepared for the sight that awaited her.
On the floor mere feet away from the balcony was the naked body of a woman, crumpled on the floor like a child’s discarded doll, her arms and legs splayed limply around her.
She had fallen on her back, her dark hair thrown around her wildly; her eyes were wide open and stared blankly up at the ceiling, and her mouth gaped in a silent cry.
Though not unfamiliar with death, the sight of her still made Lace’s heart skip a beat—until she noticed the woman’s chest was moving, and that periodically, a muscle group would spasm and jerk her around like a puppet with cut strings.
She was alive, Lace realized, staring uncomprehendingly at the woman on the ground.
It was then that she noticed the others as well.
All around the room, other women lay in similar states of disarray; three in total, each of them naked and gleaming in the flickering candlelight. Each of them bore the same blank, wide-eyed expression. It made Lace shiver.
Suddenly there was movement towards the dark heart of the room, where a massive canopied bed occupied a sizeable portion of the chamber. A sudden flash of deja vu reminded Lace that she’d seen this very bed—this very room—only recently…in that bizarre dream!
But, that would mean…!
“P-please, Koyasu-sama—I, I can’t—!”
The woman’s voice sounded desperate, plaintive, and hammering with fear. At once though Lace realized the cry she’d heard moments ago did not belong to this woman; the tone was all wrong. It must have belonged to one of the girls laying insensate upon the ground.
However unfamiliar it was, at least it sounded human. The voice that answered her was anything but.
“Aoba-san,” it oozed in a rich, deep drawl, “It should please you to know I saved you for last. Come…I will not harm you…”
It chuckled confidently, “Quite the contrary…”
There was a flurry of movement behind the canopy, but in the dim light Lace could not see what was happening. All at once, she heard the woman shout, “N-no!! No, you can’t—!”
And then she exploded out from the curtains hanging around the bed, crashing to the floor in a mad dash. Her escape had been too desperate though, too clumsy, and she could not find her footing. She tripped on the splayed limb of one of the other women, falling to the ground with a gasping cry.
The woman was in her late twenties, and pretty; her dark hair was cut into a short bob, and her figure was delightfully soft. All of the women were comely, but this one still stood out.
She heard the rustling of the curtains, and the woman spun onto her back.
Behind her, a tall, pale form emerged from the bed. His skin was beyond alabaster, and all but glowed even in the dim lighting. The only word that sprang to mind at the sight of him was…lean. Hungry. He was not emaciated, but every muscle on his arms, his legs, his rigid abdomen, were cast in stark display. Like a statue of living marble, glistening in a sheen of sweat. He appeared to be a man in utterly prime physical form, but shockingly so. His features were harsh, aristocratic but cruel. The topknot that normally would have restrained his hair was undone, so it spilled out behind him in a wild, black mane. His eyes shone like dark shards of glass in his wolfish face, and his ruddy lips were pulled back in a smile that displayed blindingly white teeth.
Most shocking of all though was the thing jutting from between his legs. For as pale as the rest of him was, the pulsing shaft of his cock was an angry, dark red. Long, almost as thick as her wrist, and riddled with long, pulsing veins, it mirrored the predatory aggression projected by his loping stance.
He began to advance.
“Please…stay away…!” she gasped, backpedaling slowly on her hands and feet. He was maybe a dozen feet away, but rather than lunge for her, he merely followed behind, matching her pace.
There was nowhere for her to run.
“There’s no reason to be frightened, Aoba-san,” he soothed, almost in mocking jest to be coming from a man so seemingly inhuman. “You and your friends are merely fulfilling your duty; you swore an oath of fealty and service, and now, your lord is calling upon you to serve…on your back…”
“This—this is insane!” she sobbed, looking at her fallen sisters, “Akane…Kiyone…what have you done to them…?!”
“You saw it with your own eyes, Aoba-san,” the man said, eyes narrowing as he drank in the sight of her luscious tits, her creamy thighs, “I fulfilled them; I satisfied them as no man ever has…and now, as no other man ever will! Lie back. Spread your legs for me, and experience the same bliss as they did!”
Lace could feel the terror rioting in the woman’s mind; her psyche was a veritable symphony of fear, her panic almost palpable. She shook her head, wide eyes fixed on the unnatural figure stalking towards her. “N-no! I will not! My…my husband—”
“You husband doesn’t have a cock like mine,” the creature sneered, “Does he?”
Almost reflexively, her eyes fell to the engorged spear of flesh jutting obscenely towards her, still shining with the wetness of the last woman it had touched. Miss Aoba made to say something, to utter some new denial…but then something shifted.
Beneath the current of fear on the surface of her thoughts, Lace felt something stir. Something thrashed awake, rippling the surface of her tension like the tail of a great and terrible beast. Her mouth fell open, and whatever denial she’d sought to utter caught in her throat.
“Look at it, woman,” the thing whispered, “You saw what it did to your friends. You heard how I made them moan. How I made them beg. Imagine how it will feel…inside you…”
“N-no!” she moaned, “I don’t w-want that…I don’t…!”
And yet her eyes stayed transfixed on his swaying cock, even as he continued to approach. He was closing the distance now, slowly, and only then did Lace realize that the woman had stopped trying to back away.
“You can’t take your eyes from it, can you?” he whispered.
Once more Lace felt that horrible stirring in Miss Aoba’s psyche, as something bubbled up through the fear. Confusion cavorted within her, mingling with the fear, as it all was slowly surmounted by…desire.
Color began to blossom on her cheeks, and her wild, panicked breathing began to deepen, becoming sighs, then pants. The wide, pink nipples adorning her heavy breasts had stiffened into tell-tale peaks, and they seemed to throb in time to the steady pulse of his monstrous organ. She had stopped trying to back away, but her legs continued to shift uselessly beneath her, until Lace realized the woman was pressing her thighs together almost reflexively.
And still she continued to stare at him, first in terror, then disbelief…and now awe.
“Yesss…” he hissed, seeing the lovely young woman falling further and further under his spell. “You know what you want…what you need…lie back. Ressst…”
“N-no….ooohhh…nooo…” she whimpered, her eyes becoming glazed, distant. Her arms trembled, and slowly gave way to her weight. She fell back onto the plush rug, the great mounds of her tits quivering as they settled proudly on her chest. He came closer, kneeling now in front of her. Her eyes followed the slow sway of his cock obediently.
“Spread your legs for me, Aoba-san,” he sneered. “Spread them wide.”
The landscape of her psyche had totally shifted; the terror and fear that had so dominated her emotions only moments before had receded, or more accurately, had been overwhelmed. There was only one thing on Miss Aoba’s thoughts now…and it arched above her, throbbing, a pearl of thick white fluid falling from its swollen head to drip hotly against her thigh.
She moaned…and spread her legs.
He fell between them, chuckling derisively, grabbing her behind the knees and pressing her legs up alongside her aching tits. Her pussy was left open and vulnerable, wetness trickling out from between swollen nether lips.
At the first touch of his swollen cockhead, she gasped. He traced along the length of her cunt, teasing her, moving back and forth until her wetness covered the crown of his shaft. By the time she felt him press against the opening of her sex, she was almost mad with desire. She arched her back, moaning loudly, raking her fingernails across the perfect white of his chest…and then he was inside her.
“OOOOHHH!! Y-yes….oh yess!! Oh god, s-so deep…so…..aaaaaaaaahhh!”
“That’s it, slut,” he said, leering down at her as he slid his thick shaft into her dripping sex, “Moan for me; moan as I make you mine…!”
He began thrusting his hips, sawing the length of his cock in and out of her in dominating, foot-long strokes. She could not help but obey him. She moaned, she moaned as sweetly as if it was her own husband taking her so passionately on the floor…though she was not thinking of him at all; the only thing she could think about, that he let her think about, was the sensation of serving beneath him as she succumbed to his will.
The sound of her submission filled the bedroom as she screamed, as his driving cock forced the first orgasm upon her helpless body.
As he began fucking her in earnest, his back shifted towards the balcony, and Lace saw the thing tattooed on his back.
Violets and blues and ink so black it seemed to suck in the light swirled together to form a huge, fanged face that took up the majority of his back. It stood out in stark relief upon his alabaster skin, every movement, every shuddering muscle, making it seem almost alive.
It’s eyes were wide and fiery, orange flames licking up from its sockets. A too-wide mouth was split in a massive, fanged grin. A mane of black and blue hair surrounded it all in a chaotic halo.
The tattoo of a great and terrible demon.
Lace’s eyelids fluttered closed at the first sight if the spectacle beneath her. Suddenly she was years younger, bound as she often was, this time on her knees, her torso bent forward parallel to the floor, suspended by her arms tied behind her back at the elbows and wrists.
For over an hour, knowing, soft fingers with long nails had manipulated her sex, building her dripping desire until she was crying out in pleasure and need. Then she felt it. Blindfolded though she was, somehow she knew it was a mans erect cock suddenly between her legs. She struggled all the harder but couldn’t escape it. It sawed across her hard clit again and again making her open. Making her need.
In time she felt her hips pushing back, her thighs widening, her young body so eager and hungry.
That was when she felt the second cock against her face, her cheek.
They seemed to work in unison, slipping and sliding around her orifices.
She whimpered. Her body pulsing between them. Then they repositioned and stilled. One nestled between the lips of her mouth, the other the lips of her pussy. They simply stilled there… Throbbing.
Desperate, young Lace opened her mouth and tentatively wrapped her lips around the head if the cock in front if her. Instantly the cock behind her invaded her tightness an inch.
Groaning around the shaft, she lunged forward taking as much of it into her mouth as she could. As she bounced backward she was impaled smoothly yet savagely! She screamed as she came from that single stroke, her virtue, virginity and dignity stripped in an instant.
There was applause.
Present Lace shook her head savagely to dispel the memories almost sobbing out loud. She was not that young innocent anymore. She was ninja. She was death.
She gritted her teeth. There was work for be done and she set about doing it.
The overwhelmed woman beneath him was writhing in helpless submission, wrapping her legs eagerly around the hips attached to the cock driving her absolutely mad with pleasure. She was utterly oblivious to everything else, but her partner…
All at once, he slowed, then stopped. She groaned in protest, rocking her hips to entice him to continue, but he ignored her pleading. He cocked his head, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the air.
Suddenly he turned to glance over his shoulder, right in the direction where Lace crouched hidden behind the balcony balustrade.
Instantly Lace spring to move, racing to the side quick and silent. She crawled to the point of the roof situated over the bed and deposited a powerful explosive, a smoke and knockout gas bomb on a long chemical fuse. The rushed to look down at the chamber from a different vantage point, poisoned throwing dagger in hand.
“P-please…My lord, why did you…stop…?” miss Aoba moaned, grinding her hips against him. Akehito ignored her, searching the room, seeking out that strange rush of sexual need he had sensed only moments before.
“Nezumi,” he whispered, grinning wolfishly. Abruptly he stood, extracting himself from Aoba’s loins despite her pitiful protests. She fell upon him, clinging to his leg, reaching imploringly for his still-turgid member.
“Please my lord, don’t stop,” she whined, planting wet kisses along the length of him. Her own juices smeared across her lips, but she only kissed more frantically. He pet her head as a gesture of consolation, and she mewled happily.
“Later, my pet. We have a guest…and it would be rude to ignore her.”
He turned to the rafters above, his voice booming, “Show yourself, little mouse. Do not be afraid.”
Chapter 2 — Lord Akehito
Lace weighed her options.
She could retreat to her room and hide her time. But he seems to possess unnatural senses… So there might be no point. Her orders were to confirm demonic activity and what she just witnessed certainly qualifies. Her next step should be to eliminate the threat, but she knew nothing about this feature.
Then again, he was clearly doing harm… And likely growing in power. Delay could be costly.
Steeling her expression, Lace began to circle the rooftop gauging his reaction. If he seemed unable to track her location maybe she could move in behind him.
Akehito surveyed the ceiling, sniffing like a hound. He waited a moment longer, and when his new ‘guest’ was not forthcoming, he lost his patience.
“If the mouse shall not reveal herself, then she shall be flushed out,” he growled. Tossing Aoba-san aside by her hair, the sinewy lord of Koyasu house fell into a crouch. His muscles tightened and shifted beneath parchment-white skin, and on his back, the eyes of the oni tattoo flashed maniacally.
With a growl, he vaulted upwards in a single massive, vertical leap.
He hurtled towards the rafters, rolling into a somersault as he flew, but at the moment when he would have crashed headlong into timber and tile the shadows seemed to swallow him whole in a burst of inky smoke and sparking embers.
He exploded out of another shadow, on top of the roof, spinning in the air before landing on all fours on the blue-black ceramic eaves behind Lace. Smoke rolled off his body like water. His body hunched forward like a great loping wolf, eyes and nostrils flared wide.
Instantly, he caught sight of the shocked kunoichi now standing practically in his shadow. His mouth split wide, revealing a cage of ivory, sharp teeth.
“Shinobi,” he growled at the sight of her attire and weapon. “You can not hide from me…not in my own house.”
Stunned, Lace whirled to face him. She bared her sword and palmed the poisoned blade expertly. Even if he proved resistant to the toxin, it was incredibly potent, and would undoubtedly deliver a very awful surprise to the demonic Akehito.
She stepped away from his cast shadow… His power seemed wreathed in it… And catwalked to the side. Eyes on his, she tugged her scarf to cover her face.
“You’re own house? How can that be, when you are not you anymore? You bear the brand of a demon. Not your power. It’s lower. It runs you. It rules you. You are a puppet. You barely even exist. But I can help you. Or…”
Lace drew her sword across the shingles of the roof, smiling as they splintered against impossible sharpness of her sword.
“Or, I will, with regret, kill you. ”
Lace deliberately feinted her movements right expecting him to lunge and ready to surprise.
His eyes widened in alarm at her speed, at the skill at which she moved. Marvelous! Not some mere pretender, this was a true threat, a real challenge! He could feel the heat surge in his veins.
The cold utility of her ninja garb could not fully conceal her femininity. He would relish disrobing her, piece by piece.
He saw her sudden movement, blade gleaming with murderous intent, but rather than engage her he leaned backwards, arms spreading wide, and as he simply flowed backwards, gliding just out of reach of her sword and trailing smoky shadow in his wake.
“Oh, you will ‘help’ me indeed, little mouse,” he taunted, “You will satiate my endless hunger…and then you will serve me, like all the others!”
She smiled at his neutrality, still circling. “How did it happen? Was it Yoko-sama? Did she infect you?”
He stopped, tilting his head. “So, you’ve met my lovely ‘wife’,” he chuckled, “You are a resourceful little minx. And so certain, for one who knows so little.”
He straightened to his full height, nearly a head and a half taller than she, standing so still he might have been made of stone. But his eyes remained fixed on hers, following her every move.
“Yoko. Perhaps the most devoted of my followers. She alone kept the faith after my demise, she alone sought out the perfect vessel…the man you know of as ‘Akehito’.”
He laughed, his voice growing increasingly inhuman with every passing moment. She could feel it more than she could hear it; a thick, roiling will that billowed like smoke against the perimeter of her psyche.
“How trusting he was. How easily smitten. How could he suspect her, when she wrought such miracles? She cleansed the fields, brought prosperity to the plow…she even coaxed that flaccid little worm he called a cock into a semblance of life again. Why would he suspect a thing when she suggested the tattoo?”
“At least he didn’t consume those around him simply to survive. How many, demon? How many have you destroyed for your own selfish needs?” Lace moved closer, still circling. She stayed away from any deep shadows and certainly avoided his.
“How many more must fall, just for you?”
Akehito noticed how carefully she avoided the shadows cast by the moonlight. Clever girl. Clearly she had experience dealing with his kind.
It was time to see just how clever she really was.
“How many?” he laughed, “I have bedded hundreds, child, many far stronger than you. All of them succumbed. You shall be no different!”
In a single swift motion, he thrust his hand through the shingles at his feet, grabbing for the supporting beam beneath them, and wrenched upwards with hellish strength. The roof tore free with a scream of splintering wood as he hurled it, and all the clay shingles attached to it spinning high into the air.
Lace instinctively leapt back to avoid the explosion of violence, but then she saw the intent behind his mad destruction.
Shadows. Myriad shadows of all shapes were suddenly racing in a wild swarm all across the roof, all around her.
He grinned, “Dance for me, shinobi!”
Stunned by the display if raw power, Lace kart wheeled to the nearest remaining portion of solid roofing then with an acrobatic kick move, transferred the energy into a high leap trying to stay above the debris.
With her left hand she deftly sheathed the dagger then threw two items downward, one a smoke bomb…. Let’s see if he can navigate in that , the second an acid pellet which should detonate the bomb behind him she’d planted earlier.
The smoke bomb smashed at Akehito’s feet, exploding into a cloud of black, choking vapor. Instantly the inhuman creature was enveloped in blinding gas, while Lace’s second throw trailed only seconds behind. It found its mark, striking the parcel of explosives hidden behind the corrupted baron.
The explosion was immediate, and intense. Hot wind buffeted her as she fell back to the roof right behind the torrent of debris. She drew her blade, watching the cloud for any sign of movement. The scarf about her face would ward off the effects of the nerve gas she’d laced into the explosives.
Nothing, human or demon, could take a blast so close and come away clean. As soon as the smoke cleared and she got a clear shot, this would all be over.
Below them, the explosion had roused the castle, and she could hear frantic shouts of alarm and the panicked rush of a response. This had to end quickly.
The cloud began to drift and disperse. She raised her blade…
…only it was empty. Akehito was gone.
Lace forced herself entirely still. She gripped the exposed beam with one hand and let her senses stretch out from it. A creature as big as her opponent should be easy to locate if he’s nearby though the after effects of the explosion complicated things. Whether she located him or not would determine her next move.
Her senses, honed in years of training, were sensitive enough to differentiate between nearly anything that moved within a structure she could maintain physical contact with. If it moved, if it produced vibrations within the walls, Lace could pick it out.
A shadow, however, does neither.
And as careful as she’d been to avoid the hail of the ruined roof, to instinctively avoid the pools or darkness that seemed to be his domain, there was one she could not avoid, no matter how fast she ran: her own.
So focused was she on detecting him through the building, she did not notice how her shadow suddenly shuddered, or how it instantly grew to twice it’s normal size.
She did not see, until the ground beneath her erupted in a writhing web of inky black tendrils.
They lashed to her sword arm, twisting it out of her hand. They coiled around her ankles, her calves, her thighs. They crisscrossed her torso and wrapped around her neck.
And all at once, they pulled taut.
She cries out both in shock and frustration. “Stupid!” she thought to herself. Her mind raced as she felt the coils tightening around her. She’d assumed the demon was wounded… staggered from the blast. She was certain The bomb had surprised him. Even if he was, somehow, able to merge with shadow he must’ve been wounded before he’d had a chance. How could he have reacted so fast?
But then, what if he wasn’t? What if we hadn’t been affected at all? What if he could see in every shadow, everywhere? What if he was invulnerable? What if he was all powerful!?
She shook her head violently. No. Nothing is all-powerful, there are limits to everything, Even demons.
This creature likes shadows. Let’s see how he handles blinding light! With her only free hand Lace frantically tore a flash bomb from a belt pocket, clenched her eyes shut, and threw it savagely against the ceiling surface directly beneath her.
The volatile chemicals splattered together and released a blinding flash, momentary turning night to day. All at once there was a hideous scream and the coiling mass surrounding her burst into ash.
She was free!
There was a massive crash in the room below, out of her line of sight. She could hear something staggering about beneath her, and could hear it hissing in pain.
Through clenched teeth, Lace hissed out, “Yyyesssss!!!
She snatched up for blade then spun to leap through the gaping hole in the roof but was surprised when she had to stop and kneel for a few gulping breaths of air.
Then, eyes narrowed, she plunged into the chamber is below sword at the ready.
Inside the once pristine chamber was now a toppled mess. Debris from the ceiling covered the floor, and motes of dust swarmed as thickly as locusts. The weak candlelight had long since been extinguished, leaving only the moon overhead to pierce the shadowy gloom.
Behind her, Lace could hear whimpering. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she saw the three women from before cowering against the wall, clinging to one another in panicked confusion.
Her quarry lay before her.
The beast Akehito had fallen onto his belly, and was struggling to push himself off the ground. His perfectly white skin was mottled with ugly welts and angry burns, which to Lace’s horror were sealing themselves shut right before her eyes.
She drew her blade.
The thing pushed itself to its knees. It’s back was towards her.
Without a word or noise, Lace expertly executed a long lunge intending to bury the sword into the creature, and pierce it’s hide from behind, then twist the blade violently to finish him off.
She sliced towards him, any number of vital points open and vulnerable with his back towards her.
Wait…on his back…!
The oni tattoo shifted strangely, the ink flowing as if alive, and all at once Lace realized ‘he’ had been facing her the entire time! But she is in mid lunge, and can’t correct her motion, so she turned her sword aiming for the middle of that hellish face….
And then the Oni’s mouth bares it’s fangs, and fiery eyes began to swirl. A wave of sudden, intense lethargy drained the strength out of her legs, and she stumbled, her blade falling just short.
He chuckled, rising to his feet, keeping the eyes of the evil visage on his back trained on her.
Like portals into jigoku itself, they glowed and turned with an eerie, indigo flame, but rather than granting light it seemed to snuff it out. The room plunged into blackness, until only those deep, dominating eyes remained.
And then Lace heard it’s voice; felt it thrill up her spine.
“Look into my eyes, little ninja…”
Lace groaned as she’s collapse to one knee, her dropped sword cluttering to the floor.
“HhhhuunGHhh nnnnooo…” Was all she managed to say. As the room around her darkened and the eyes of the tattoo seemed impossibly to brighten and sparkle, she could feel the world closing around her.
She was familiar with the technique. Inducing fatigue was one of the easiest and most effective psychic attacks. She’d used it herself as best she was able. But hers was the flame of a match compared to this inferno.
Her eyelids fluttered closed as she sunk down on all fours.
“H… How drained are you d…demon? Hngh… I interrupted your feeding…. You’ve h… Had to repair yourself… Twice. I’ll bet y… You’re running low…”
Lace managed to focus, and with with what psychic powers she had, formed a wedge of energy between them gently deflecting as much of the attack she could.
With faltering fingers, she managed to withdraw a packet of acid if she could just summon the strength throw it on the tattoo, maybe it would break it’s concentration.
The Oni’s voice oozed, like warm honey against the barrier of her mind, “Do not concern yourself with such trifles, child. You are weary from our little dance. Why not rest a moment…let your aching limbs relax…you have nothing to fear…I will not let you fall…”
All around the staggered kunoichi, shadowy tendrils began to manifest out of the dim. They did not strike or seize, for to do either might trigger her reflexive, trained response. Rather, they slid across her limbs, her waist, her chest, in a warm, subtle embrace, inviting her to ease into their invisible support to relieve herself of her precarious balance.
They twined into her hand, encircling her fingers and gently taking hold of the vial she clutched in her tenuous grip.
“Feel the strength draining from your body. With every breath, you feel yourself growing weaker…weaker…so tired, child…so very…sleepy…”
The tentacles began to strengthen their grip, bearing her weight so that she felt almost weightless, just drifting in a sea of soothing, endless black. The demon’s eyes continued to languidly, endlessly swirl.
“Hnnghg..n…noooo….” lace groans as she felt her strength continue to ebb… the hypnotic gaze and the soothing touch lulling her more and more. Realizing she might succumb at any moment, she fell back on her strengths: trickery. She took all the rage and frustration, even the humiliation of possible defeat that she could muster and packaged all that emotion… compartmentalized it. She locked it away, sequestering it deep in her conscious where it would remain until triggered by… by what…?
She considered the possibilities and, eyeing her opponent, chose to trigger the release of those emotions on her next sexual climax. She actually smiled at that surprise as her vision almost entirely faded. In a last, desperate effort to avoid capture, she blearily saw the acid packet, still held aloft nearby in the grips of an ethereal tendril.
With a cry, and with the last of her reserves, she lashed out and tightened two fingers around it, causing the soft end to tear, and deliberately allowed a few drops to strike her left forearm. Maybe the pain would help her snap free of the spell.
She watched the acrid substance splash against her arm, and steeled herself for the pain…only the burning rush she anticipated never came. The droplets rolled off her skin like water. As she stared in open mouthed confusion, something rippled across the exposed skin of her arm. An oily tentacle had flattened itself to near transparency and had wrapped itself protectively around her arm. Having shunt away the volatile liquid, it reformed itself into its thicker, writhing mass, and licked her skin almost affectionately.
The tendrils grasping the torn packet twisted it from her grip, where it vanished into the encroaching darkness.
The demon clicked its tongue disapprovingly. “No, my pet. You will feel only what I wish you to feel. When I wish for you to feel pain, you will feel pain. But for now…”
She felt the tentacles holding her arms and legs coil even more tightly around her. They cradled her body, lifting her off the ground and turning her so that she sat in a bower of the inky appendages. They raised her arms, trapping them above her head. They wound around each of her ankles, pinning them aside, but allowing her enough mobility that she was able to close her thighs if she tried.
She did, pressing them closed, wanting to deny him even to the bitter end. Her arms were held in place, but not violently so; he only held with enough force to prevent her from lowering her arms.
He pulled her forward, easing her back until she was supine before those hellish, hypnotic eyes.
“…all I wish you to feel…is pleasure…”
He brought a mass of tendrils up before her staring eyes, allowing them to hang there threateningly for a long, heart-stopping moment, and then they rushed forward, sliding against her body and seeking out the knots and clasps that held her uniform together. Her gi was undone and pulled apart. Two tentacles slid beneath the waistband of her leggings, plunging scandalously between her soft skin and the tight fabric. Where they touched, they left her feeling warm, tingly. There was a loud ripping sound as the tentacles located the vulnerable seams of her leggins, and began ripping them apart.
Soon she was left in little more than tatters; her leggings were a ruined mess, exposing long expanses of her naked legs and leaving only her underwear to cover the juncture of her thighs. With her gi pulled open, her bare breasts were left exposed to the demon’s ravenous gaze.
Only her mask remained; and the scarf that only loosely covered the lower half of her face. For reasons she could not understand, he had left them untouched…at least for the time being.
“Now, little ninja,” he crooned, “You’re all mine…”
“Nnhghgh.n..nnnnooo…..” was all she could pathetically reply. She struggled dazedly, lost in his demonic stupor, only vaguely aware of what was happening. Reflexively her body pulled and tugged at the coils binding her, and she moaned and cried as she felt her athletic body being so lewdly exposed.
Drunkenly her head tosses from side to side as she sifted in and out of consciousness. Then, Lace felt something utterly unexpected; two hands, two decidedly human, female hands, stroked enticingly along the outside of her thighs.
She squirmed, the surprise jolting through her hazy trance. “W-what…?”
And then, she found herself suddenly flanked on either side by the two women she saw lying senselessly on the ground when she first came upon the monster as he fed. They nuzzled in close, their skin so hot as to be nearly feverish. The tentacle-bound kunoichi couldn’t help but gasp as their slender fingers pressed into her exposed flesh, deftly massaging her long legs.
“So beautiful…” one of them cooed into her left ear, giggling mischievously. “What’s your name? Please, tell me your name…”
“Don’t listen to her!” Came a plaintive, almost pleading voice on her right. “You mustn’t listen. Please, we’re being controlled…fight…save us…!”
But even as the young nymphette entreated her desperately, her tiny hand moved boldly, now tracing the seam of her hip, dipping teasingly into her inner thighs.
“Obey them,” the oni droned, “Let down your defenses..Obeyyy…”
The ninja blinked several times as she forced her swimming thoughts to focus. The direness of her plight came into full, terrifying clarity, and she began to struggle with renewed vigor.
“s.. Stop touching me! What’s wrong with you?”
She pulled and strained… feeling the feverish memories of her sexual conditioning threatening to break the damn of her confused psyche. She looked about abruptly… trying to take in the situation. Then realized she’d been stripped and blushed and strained to cover up.
The sound of her voice only seemed to inflame the two concubines further. They sighed, moaning hungrily into Lace’s sensitive ears. Nails dragged across her thighs, her belly, they grazed along the outer swells of her breasts.
“There’s nothing wrong with us,” the one on the left breathed, “We want to make you feel good. Soooo…gooood…”
“She’s lying!” the one on her right whined, brushing her lips against Lace’s earlobe and throat, “We’re slaves…slaves to the master…he wants you to be a slave too…!”
“Mmm…yesss…so good to be a slave…” left purred, dragging a finger lightly along the length of Lace’s panty-covered slit. “So good…so…right…”
“Don’t listen to her! Listen to me…I want to help you. You can fight. You can resist…!”
“Laying on your back,” Left sighed, massaging Lace’s sex with long, insistent fingers, “with your legs spread wiiiiide…just waiting for him…waiting for his cock…”
“Noooo!” Right moaned, “Don’t let her trick you. Don’t think about his cock. Don’t think about it. It’ll arouse you. It’ll make you wet…! Don’t do it…!”
Seemingly against her will, Right seized one of Lace’s heavy breasts in her tiny hand, and began to squeeze, to massage it from base to tip.
“It felt so gooood!” Left whispered. “He is so big…he goes in soooo deeeeep….his cock…you’ll love his cock…!”
“He’s so strong,” Right whimpered, “And we’re…we’re so weak. Don’t let him inside you. Don’t. If you do it’ll be too late…!”
Lace groaned out in frustration.. .feeling their hands all over her… sharp fingernails grazing her clit, focing it to rise unbidden.
“Stop… stop! Stop touch…stop whispering my ear!” she looked at each of them as she said it, feeling the fingertips circle and tighten and tug against her nipple. She arched and moaned deeply… her adult needs had been… unattended for so very long…
She frantically looked for any opportunity… are her hands near the girls’ throats? How much slack do the tendrils giver her…
Gods, the one on the left knew how to stroke a woman’s folds…
She clenched her abdomen and pulled her shoulders up and forward straining for all she was worth to get free. Her frantic attempt to escape surprised the two women. They were forced to release her while she thrashed. Left finally planted a firm hand against Lace’s belly and pusheed her hard back into the waiting nest of tentacles.
“Oh no, you aren’t going anywhere,” she cackled, “You’re trapped. Helpless. You can’t escape. Soon, you’re not even going to want to…”
“Don’t give up!” Right whispered, looking into Lace’s eyes imploringly. “You HAVE To fight. Resist him. Don’t let him know how tired you are, how badly you want to lie back…to rest…”
“She’s lying too, you know,” Left said, sneering at her sister, “She’s the biggest slut of all. She just wants the master’s hot, hard cock all to herself.”
“That’s not true! Oh, don’t listen to her! I-I never—” Right stammered.
“Oh but she did!” Left hissed. She had grabbed hold of Lace’s hips, wrestling them still with her soft, oppressive weight. Her breasts rolled enticingly against Lace’s bare stomach, her lips at her neck. “She tried to resist, like we all did. He held her in his lap, slowly feeding his cock into her dripping pussy, and before he was even halfway in she gave up entirely.”
“I didn’t want to,” Right sobbed, “I tried to fight him. I tried not to like it. I told myself I mustn’t like it, but he…he was too much…it felt too…good…” her voice trailed off, growing singsong, dreamy. Her hands returned to Lace’s tits, where they began to play with her suddenly rigid nipples.
“It’ll be the same for you,” Left whispered, kissing the hollow of Lace’s throat. Her fingers returned to her thin panties, this time playing with the narrow strip that ran between her swollen lips. “You won’t be able to help yourself. He’ll fill you with his cock. He’ll make you ache. Make you beg.”
“So please, you must resist!” Right moaned. “He controls me now. I was too weak to fight him. Now he makes me do this…he makes me want you…oh how I want you…!”
Unable to stop herself, Right lowered her head, and sucked Lace’s nipple into her hot, wet mouth.
“s….stop… Stop…!” Lace mumbled then cried out, just trying to keep her focus. But her past, as ever, haunts her. Fevered images of herself bound and pawed and made to scream and beg pound at her relentlessly as she feels the women’s fingers and tongues growing bolder with every moment.
When Right’s teeth close gently and grace Lace’s nipple she unconsciously arches her back, thrusting herself into the sensation as her nipple tightens stiff and hard and needy.
She turned to Left, “Whether she’s lying or not, you’ve clearly succumbed. Have you no OOHHHgngngh..d..duh… dignity… no pride?”
“Dignity…pride?” Left smiled, and grabbed Lace behind her head, forcibly locking eyes with the bound kunoichi. She pulled aside the ninja’s scarf, exposing the lower half of her face. She brought herself dangerously close, so that Lace could feel the warmth of her breath against her lips.
“I used to be like you. I was proud. I clung to ‘dignity’ and ‘honor’ like a drowning man clings to driftwood. I know now how foolish I was. My Master has shown me. He doesn’t care how ‘proper’ I act. He just wants me naked, kneeling before him. He wants my hands, my mouth, my tits, my sex. He knows me for the slut I truly am. I don’t have to pretend any more. I don’t have to think. I just have to be.”
Her hand slid down Lace’s naked torso, lingering between her sensitive breasts before raking nonsense circles over her tensing belly with her polished nails. Slowly, tauntingly, they danced lower and lower.
“How much does your ‘pride’ and ‘dignity’ cost you, shinobi? How heavy is your burden? Why not just…give it up…?”
Her fingers found Lace’s panties, and pried their way beneath the waistband.
“Why not just…let yourself go…” she breathed, and at once slid her fingers into the waiting folds of Lace’s vulnerable sex.
Lace stared down with increasing dread as the finger maneuvered its way lower and lower. She could feel it sliding smoothly and insidiously over her sweat-dampened skin.
“No… no… you mustn’t… not there…”
She could see and feel her lips treacherously close to her own. When the fingers sunk home and she felt her pussy quiver and clench and cry out in pleasure Lace arched so lewdly they nearly kissed.
She then turned her head from side to side and struggled and pulled against her bonds.
“I love it when you moan,” Left sighed, nibbling Lace’s outstretched neck. “Louder. Show us all what kind of a woman you truly are.”
She pumped her fingers slowly in and out of the helpless ninja’s grasping sex, massaging her sensitive flesh with smooth, cunning strokes.
“You’re wet, ninja…where’s your vaunted pride now? It’s leaking all over my fingers…” she taunted.
“Oh, no!” Right moaned, releasing Lace’s captive nipple and gazing at her with despairing eyes. “Don’t let her turn you on! You must be strong! You must resist! She wants to make you wet for him…for his cock…”
“It’s too late, Akane,” Left giggled, “She’s losing. She’s too tired to fight me any more. Her pussy is getting soooo tiiiight…”
She began to pump her hands faster, focusing her attention on the hard little nub of flesh at the apex of Lace’s cunt. The darkness swirled around them, and at once Lace felt the tentacles binding her shift. They pulled, forcing her back to arc, laying her flat on her back. She felt the girl Akane suddenly shiver.
“He’s coming,” she whispered fearfully. “Oh the Master, he’s coming…!”
And by her head, Lace sensed a presence moving in the shadows. The grinning Oni face had shifted, flowing around Akehito’s body so that it was now positioned on his chest. He loomed above her, his closeness making her feel suddenly small.
She felt something brush against her cheek, and opened her eyes to see the drooling head of his monstrous cock hanging threateningly over her face.
“Don’t look at it,” Akane begged, “Don’t…!”
Lace gasped and moaned shamefully, her pussy flushing so wet. She and been so long without a lover she knew it was tight and god knows it was eager.
Her clit cried out in pleasure with every stroke of the infernal woman’s knowledgeable fingers. Her head turned from one woman to they next as they taunted her, making it even harder to focus, to concentrate.
She gasped at the sight of his incredible, huge cock hovering right over her. Desperate for any sort of relief from her overwhelming and rising lusts, she craned her head forward and tried to snap at it with her teeth!
It might have been a mistake.
He did not attempt to evade her; the shaft of his cock was close enough that she was able to make contact with her teeth, but all she met was a rigidity that might as well have been carved marble.
But his heat…his taste…!
She saw the thing tense, and the dribble of precum suddenly doubled. The thick, milky fluid leaked onto her chin, her cheeks; it fell in ropy ribbons across her panting lips.
“Mmm….” Left giggled, “I have to admit, I’m feeling a little jealous, slut.”
“DON’T!” Akane gasped, burying her face in Lace’s neck, her breath hot and heavy. “Oh god don’t taste it…! You might…you might like it…”
“Go on, honey,” Left whispered, slowing her manipulation of Lace’s pussy. She let her tongue dart teasingly into the prone ninja’s ear. “Do it. You know you want to.”
Lace clenched her eyes and mouth shut, panting through her nose, but even the musky scent… Gods, a single breath and her skin was suddenly alive and tingly. Every inch of her instantly more sensitive. Left’s fingers scandalizing her pussy, both their lips and bodies, so close, it was all just too much!
Lace threw her head back with a scream. And then, of course she tasted the demons elixir of seed. Demonic semen spilled across her tongue; salty, rich…male…
As much as she knew she should hate it, it made her mouth water.
Akane sobbed, “Nooo…oh no…it’s too late…you’ve tasted him, how will you ever stop?” As if to console herself, her mouth returned to Lace’s aching tits, kissing, sucking, and licking even as she murmured pitifully into her heated flesh.
“Look at her, Akane,” Left giggled, “She’s panting, like a bitch in heat. She can’t make up her mind.”
“Kiyone, stop,” Akane begged, “She’s too close. You have to stop! If…if she swallows…”
“Here sweety,” Kiyone said to Lace, reaching up with her free hand, “Let me help you out…”
Before Lace’s swimming eyes, she saw Kiyone’s small hand take hold of the throbbing member drooling onto her face. Her fingers struggled to close around him, but she gently guided him back, until the hot, glistening head of his cock brushed tantalizingly against Lace’s lips.
“He’s right there!” Akane squealed, “He’s too close, it’s too much—”
“Quiet, slut,” Kiyone sneered, “She’s a big girl. She knows what she wants.”
Kiyone caught Lace’s clit between her thumb and forefinger, clenching it captive. At the same time, her hand began to slowly stroke the pulsing shaft in her hand, and the sticky flow of precum became more insistent against Lace’s wet lips.
Lace continued to shake her head in refusal… in denial. Even as she felt herself swallow what little she’d take into her mouth and felt her body, her pussy grow hungrier and hungrier.
Overwhelmed with animalistic lust, she still clung to the shreds of her pride. She wouldn’t take the demon’s alluring cock into her mouth, but she couldn’t help moaning and groaning. Her mouth open her head turned back and forth, she felt the veiny shaft against her face, her cheek, her fevered lips.
“God.. please.. all of you.. please.. please stop… can’t…. can’t take it…”
“How much longer can you last?” Kiyone whispered, “You can’t lie to me; your clit is absolutely throbbing. Do you like it when I stroke it like this? I think you must; your legs start to tremble, and you’re dripping…all over the floor…”
“You’re so much stronger than I was,” Akane murmured in awe, “I don’t—I don’t think I could have stopped myself from just opening my mouth…letting him in…especially when he’s so close…so hard…”
“Slut,” scolded Kiyone with a grin. “I don’t think she’s strong at all. I think she’s afraid. She knows if she began sucking, she’d love it so much she’d never want to stop.”
“That’s not true!” Akane snapped, “She’s nothing like that!”
“Oh no? My fingers are soaked. She’s shaking all over. Put that cute little mouth of yours on her tits again and I’ll bet she’s come screaming.” She gave Lace’s clit an affectionate squeeze. “No, this one’s a slut…just like you.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Akane moaned, “Show her she’s wrong! That you’re not a slut!”
“And how exactly would she do that?” Kiyone sighed. Lace heard Akane fidgeting next to her, could sense the poor girl’s confusion. And then…
“What…what if she just…you know…let him in a little bit?” she murmured quietly. Kiyone scoffed.
“And then what? Just stopped?”
“N-no…I mean, yes! Yes that’s it! If she did that, she’d prove that she wasn’t scared…that she doesn’t really want him…! She could just push him out!”
She moved her lips back to Lace’s ear, speaking urgently, “You can do it. I know you can. Please…please, don’t let her be right…you’re not a slut…you’re not…!”
“HUngghh…oOnNGHGH…. f.f.f.fffFuck you ALL….Nngghghghgh,” the ninja twisted and writhed and clenched her teeth and alternated between shutting her eyes tight and glaring at the beast’s female thralls, somehow managing to hate them even more than him.
“I’m NOT a SLUT!”
She batted her lashes wide open and saw it… fully for the first time. It was heavy and hard. She could feel the the heat from it radiating against her cheek. All she could imagine was every…fucking… inch… splitting her hungry pussy wide….
“HNGgghgghhg… n..no… please…”, she actually licked her lips.
Kiyone saw the tiny admission, and smirked evilly.
Her hand went to work, rewarding the dazed ninja with a soft roll of her captive clit.
With her other hand she tugged forward, brushing the swollen glans of her master’s cock against Lace’s parted lips, covering them in a fresh gush of oozing cum. The scent wafted to her nose, filling her lungs with every trembling breath, and filling her mind with the most wicked, torrid impulses.
Her lips quivered. She had to still her renegade tongue as it threatened to slip out of her mouth. He…he had tasted so…good…would it…would it really be so bad..if she…just…
“Yesss…” Kiyone breathed into her ear, “Go on. It’s just a taste. What harm could it do?”
Her fingers changed their rhythm, no only teasing her sex with the very lightest of touches, but promsin more…so much more…if she only…just…
Akane’s eyes widened as she saw what her insidious sister was trying to do.
“Shinobi, don’t listen to her!” she begged, glancing furtively at the way Kiyone’s fingers were poised so dangerously close to Lace’s weeping sex. “It’s another trick! As soon as you taste him, as soon as you take his seed into your mouth, she’s going to pleasure you. She’s going to reward you; first with her fingers, and then…then with more…cock…”
She sobbed, “Over and over. Again and again, until you’re just sucking and licking and moaning while she makes your pussy sing.”
Kiyone scowled at her, “Way to give up the game. Whose side are you fucking on, anyway?”
“She doesn’t want that!” Akane shouted back, “It’s wrong! You can’t do that to her…to anyone…it’s just…it’s just too much…”
She looked at Lace, her eyes wide, somehow so innocent, “I’m sorry. I…I know you’re fighting as hard as you can. You’re so brave. Let me…let me help…”
She slinked down Lace’s body, until she was perched right above the full, heaving mounds of her breasts. Her soft hands captured each one at their base, stroking the sensitive skin with an almost loving touch. She locked eyes with the prone ninja, and wet her lips with a small, pink tongue.
“She wants to reward you for submitting…I’m going to reward you for resisting. It’s not much, but…maybe it’ll help…”
Lace could only stare in mute dismay as the curvy little thrall arched her back, and suddenly pressed her own tits, nearly every bit as large as Lace’s considerable endowments, against Lace’s own.
Their nipples found each other in the malleable fray, kissing each other, sending shards of wicked pleasure searing through her body. Akane gasped, her eyes slipping shut.
“NNnnhh…! Your breasts are just…wonderful! They’re making me so…so wet…mmmmmhh…”
“Hey,” Kiyone stammered, “That’s…that’s not fair. Aren’t you getting a little carried away…?”
“It’s the least I can do!” Akane whipped back, “She’s trying so hard. That deserves something too!”
“You’re just obsessed with big boobs,” Kiyone frowned. “God you ARE a slut.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Akane whispered to Lace, smiling reassuringly. “Just focus on me. Let me make you feel…nice…”
She began rolling her back, letting the movement flow into her breasts, using them to massage the helpless woman beneath her. Their rigid peaks would brush against each other randomly so that spikes of unexpected pleasure punctuated their silky dance.
“T-that’s it…!” Akane sighed, a hot blush blossoming on her cheeks as the massage began affecting her too. “Just think about me. Think about my breasts, sliding against yours. Don’t think about Kiyone and her wicked fingers. Don’t think about the master’s cock so close to your lips. They’re trying to trick you. They want to enslave you. I…”
She blinked, her eyes suddenly shinning and wet.
“I…I just want to be your friend…”
Overwhelmed with physical and emotional sensations, Lace gave out a strangled cry as pussy clenched and spasmed as powerfully as she’d ever experienced! She threw back her head and screamed as a massive orgasm shook her body.
At that precise moment, her mental trigger uncorked a torrent of fury and rage. Wracked with competing emotions and flooded with incredible energies an explosion of sheer, pure, white chi thundered out from her body. A psychic maelstrom striking out in all directions as she thrashed and howled, eyes wide yet sightless.
It ended as quickly as it began. Lace collapsed into the deepest imaginable sleep.
Chapter 3 — Evil Unmasked
At first Lace couldn’t be sure whether she was really awake; she blinked, felt her eyes open, but her vision still stayed murky and black. It was only after a long, unsettling moment that the cloudiness began to fade, and her eyes finally started registering the different contrasts provided by what dim illumination there was.
She swallowed, her mouth painfully dry.
Then, she remembered.
With a cry of alarm, she bolted upright, and was shocked when she felt something jerk her by the neck. She reached up reflexively and found something, it felt like a collar, fastened around her throat. A narrow chain hooked through a ring in the back, and connected her to the heavy wooden column beside her bedroll.
It was also then that she realized she was naked. Or very close to naked; a scrap of cloth had been tied around her waist, affording her just an ounce of modesty, despite terminating just after it reached her thighs.
Her heart pounded, and she looked about in near-panic. Where was she? What had happened?
Where was the demon?
The walls of the room were made of stone, veins of visible mortar spider-webbing over every surface. The floor was simple dirt, and exuded the deep and heady scent of ancient loam. Pillars shot up out of the ground, dispersed evenly about the chamber, to hold up the rafters and boards of the ceiling above. It was maybe a twenty-by-twenty foot space, all together. A lone, small lantern flickered bravely beside the heavy wooden door, granting the only illumination in the desolate chamber.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Lace could make out a few other bedrolls scattered about, all of them empty. Just when she thought she might truly be alone, a soft voice came from close by.
“You’re awake!” it exclaimed. She knew that voice. Her pulse began racing again as she spun to find her suspicion was correct.
Akane, one of the beast’s thralls, knelt nearby. Anxious concern creased her young features.
“I’m so glad,” she said, tearing up, “You’ve been asleep for hours, I thought…I thought maybe you would never wake up.”
Lace tried to speak, but then fell into a coughing fit. She worked her mouth to generate some saliva, then,“A…Akane? Wh…what happened? I… I thought maybe I’d…”
She looked the girl over carefully for any sign of injury. For that matter she checked about her own person.
Hearing the labor in her voice, Akane rose to her feet, “Hold on, I’ll get you some water.”
She padded off, and only then did Lace notice the girl was in almost as much distress as she; Akane was likewise nearly naked, with a panel of silk fastened across her chest and falling to just above mid-thigh. It was cinched loosely about her hips and back, so that it tantalized more than it concealed; she was clearly bare beneath the flimsy material, and all-but totally naked from behind.
There was the clatter of clayware as she poured water from a small gray jar, and offered it to Lace.
Seeing the suspicion on the ninja’s features, Akane winced, “It’s just water, I promise.”
Her eyes turned downcast, and she fumbled her fingers. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious. You…you’ve been through a lot…” she swallowed audibly, “But the mistress was very explicit. She…she wants you alive.”
“I’ll bet she does,” Lace replied. “Though she’ll come to regret it.”
With a light sip and quick sniff the ninja confirmed the water was free of contaminant, though she continued to drill Akane with a suspicious expression as she took the water in. Push every lever as they say. “You helped them torture me.”
The girl seemed to crumple into herself even more. She was kneeling in front of Lace, her hands busying themselves with the hem of her scandalously short ‘dress’; more to simply stay busy than anything else, it seemed. She didn’t seem to be able to meet Lace’s stare.
“I know,” she said softly, voice thick. “I’ve thought about it over and over again since…since you did that…thing…to the Mast—to Lord Akehito.”
She shuddered, swiping hastily at eyes that looked swollen even in the dim lighting.
“I know you won’t believe me, but I…I just couldn’t help myself. I had been asleep; being with…with Him…I had passed out. I awoke with his voice in my head, filling it, making me feel…funny…”
She looked furtively up at Lace. “He…he promised me things; awful…awful things…if I did what he asked. I couldn’t deny him. He’s…he’s too strong.”
“Hmmph,” was the assassin’s only reply. She regarded her collar and chain, then glanced around the chamber with a bit more care. She could be free from the pillar in a matter of minutes. But then what? She needed more information.
“Perhaps you should have been stronger,” she said, regarding her with a critical eye. “Tell me exactly what happened after…”
She turned away, cheeks flushing with shame.
The rebuke clearly stung, but Akane had apparently steeled herself for a harsh response. She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you did, but all of the sudden there was this blinding flash, and we—Kiyone, myself, and the m-monster—were hurled away. Kiyone and I came to hearing him…screaming…”
“He raged around the room, ripping at the walls, at everything. We were terrified; whatever you’d done, for a while we were free of him, we saw him for what he really was, and we were afraid.”
She looked at Lace, awe in her wide eyes. “He tried to approach you. I thought he was going to kill you, but he…he couldn’t get close. He started to smoke, like he was on fire.
“That’s when the door burst open, and Lady Yoko stormed in with fifteen men. The shadows had been keeping them away, I think, but as soon as it fell away they were able to come inside. They took us, all three of us, down here while Lady Yoko attended to Lord Akehito.”
She paused, trying to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “We were down here for a long time before they came back. They…they took Kiyone. And the other girl, Aoba Megumi, she was taken too.”
“I don’t know why, but I am terrified for them.”
A smile crept onto Lace’s face. Even with her training she couldn’t help it. Chi energies. Never her strong suit, but she knew the basics, and that was the demon’s weakness. That, and simple light.
She cast her gaze about the chamber once again in the hopes her equipment might have been stashed here, but of course it was not.
Time was of the essence. He was weakened, considerably it would seem. And, the women taken could well be consumed utterly in his efforts to restore himself. For their sake and simply to press a tactical advantage Lace realized she must act.
But, she then took stock of herself, her energy reserves. She’d never felt so spent, even after the sleep. She needed to recharge, and quickly.
Suddenly she fixed Akane with a predatory stare.
Akane noticed the strange look in the ninja’s eye, and squirmed uncomfortably. “Um…is—is something wrong? There’s a little rice if you’re hungry…?”
The ninja’s smile only deepened.
“Yes, I’ll have some rice. I’m hungry. So very, very hungry. You know that sensation, Akane-san? When you want something so very, very desperately?” As she spoke, Lace crawled quickly and smoothly into the girls personal space, moving quite close and slightly above, watching her eyes. The positioned compelled Akane to lean backward from her kneeling position… effectively trapping her in place.
With her psychic gift, Lace conjured wanton images of the two of them together, then slithered them into Akane’s consciousness. Always the young girl was submissive… held or bound. Lace’s right hand found the tie for her tattered wrap at the shoulder.
“It can be such exquisite,” Lace let the word hang in the air for a moment as she fiddled with the knot, “torment, don’t you think?”
“I-I…I mean, um…sure…?” the wide-eyed girl stammered, glancing furtively at the way the blonde was toying with her makeshift cover. “J-just let me up, and I’ll…I…”
She found herself staring helplessly into the ninja’s deep, hooded eyes, and her heart began to race. Thoughts, scandalous, racy thoughts, were rising unbidden in her mind; she suddenly felt so…strange…
She felt herself blushing furiously at how close the blonde was, how…forward. Her lips were scant inches away, Akane could feel her slow, steady breathing, so different from her own suddenly heavy pant. She was so beautiful, exotic, and so confident…commanding…
She felt the blush on her cheeks only deepen, felt the flush of heat flowing down her body and making her nipples almost painfully erect beneath the flimsy silk cover. What…what was happening…
“I…I feel strange,” Akane whimpered, shutting her eyes to avoid Lace’s smoldering stare, “D-dizzy…”
“Oooh, then you should lie down then, shouldn’t you?” Lace said as she pushed and cradled Akane’s shoulders to the floor, at the same time, untying her flimsy gown. “There now, doesn’t that feel better?”
She allowed the girl to untuck her legs while she ran her fingers down her bared front, dragging her nails gently but firmly. She deliberately missed the nipples but made sure to trail very near them.
“Poor little Akane, you’ve been through so much. Particularly here…” Her fingertips settled on her prey’s pussy, slithering under the loosened garment.
The sudden contact of Lace’s fingers against her sex made Akane jump, a shocked gasp escaping her throat. She started to flail, but Lace’s arm around her shoulder, and the weird, almost drunken malaise that was settling over her, made her resistance utterly ineffectual.
She stared in utter bewilderment at the calmly smiling ninja, one hand trying to cover her naked breasts while the other grabbed reflexively at Lace’s wrist, desperately trying to pry her hand away.
“W-What are you doing?!” she whimpered, trying to free herself, “Let me—let me go, please. Stop…s-stop…”
But even as she said it, the most insidious thoughts were racing through her head, the worst of which was a senseless, almost reflexive desire to be taken…dominated…
Heedless of her protests, she could feel her pussy getting wet. Confused, struggling with the sexual fantasies Lace was steadily feeding into her mind, Akane could barely rally the will to keep the buxom ninja’s hands at bay.
“Stop, little one? Did you say I should stop? A tad ironic, don’t you think?” Lace whispered into her ear as she took both of her wrists in one hand and easily pinned them to the ground above her head.
The forefinger of her other hand found the girls swelling clit and after easily identifying her pulse, tapped it on one heartbeat, then circled it to the next, then nothing, then repeated. A technique guaranteed to drive any young woman out of her mind with need.
“Aahh!” Akane gasped, vainly trying to free her wrists from Lace’s grip. “P-please, I’m sorry, I couldn’t—I couldn’t stop myself, I…I…” The wash of her hot breath against her ear made her eyelids flutter as unwanted shivers ran down her body, and her skin burst into tingly goosebumps. She shook her head, trying to escape, terrified of how the whispered words seemed to jolt straight to her clit.
Oh god…her clit…!
Lace’s fingers were weaving a sinister, sensual spell over her; within moments, the practiced, seductive rhythm had coaxed her little button from beneath its protective hood, and the pleasure, the sweet, mind-numbing pleasure, began to climb. Akane’s legs flailed uselessly on the ground, unable to dislodge the slender hand deftly manipulating her sex.
Soon, the prone woman was panting.
“N-no…OHhh…oh, d-don’t…s-stop…” Akane whimpered, her half-lidded eyes staring dazedly at her captor. She couldn’t get away. She could barely think. She didn’t even realize that her futile struggles had started to slow, that her trembling thighs, rather than trying to squeeze Lace’s hand to stillness, had started to spread, to part, allowing the ninja’s fingers to caress her swollen clit with increasing abandon.
Her hips…her hips were moving on their own, rocking helplessly against Lace’s conquering hand.
“I—I can’t…stop…!” Akane moaned, arching her back, “P-please, no more—no…ohhh!”
Lace smiled, more from professional pride than true passion. She regretted the necessity of what she was doing.
“No more? Don’t be ridiculous. We’re all girls here. It’s obvious what you want and… need.”
As she felt the girl begin to press her hips against her hand, the ninja removed her finger and, releasing the wrists, she spun her body, placing her knees on either side of Akane’s head.
“But, It’s not that easy, little one. You must give pleasure to receive…”
She idly teased the folds of the young pussy scant inches from her face. Running her fingers up and down the sides…tugging them gently outwards, opening her, while raising and lower her hips, letting her own dampening pussy brush against the trapped woman’s lips and mouth.
“W-what…no…no, I can’t…I—MMmmph!” Akane begged pitifully as she watched Lace’s hips slowly descending towards her face. She shut her eyes, unable to turn her head to avoid the first brush of the ninja’s naked sex against her mouth.
She squirmed, shutting her lips reflexively as she was kissed.
She could feel Lace’s wetness against her face; as the kiss went on, as the ninja gently rocked her hips back and forth, the most wicked, helpless feelings began to well up inside the prone girl.
Shutting her mouth forced her to breath through her nose, and the hot, heady scent of Lace’s melting pussy was making her so…dizzy…confused..
And as Lace’s fingers played with her pussy, as she was made to blossom and tremble entirely against her will, feelings of utter subservience began to take her over. Her eyes fluttered, her back arching as the pleasure forced her lips to part in a hopeless moan.
Lace’s hips rose up just slightly, enough to give the panting girl some much needed air. Akane’s lips quivered and glistened with the sultry ninja’s wetness, the scent filling her head, making it swim.
God, she wanted…she wanted…to…
Before she knew what she was doing, her tongue slipped across her panting lips, and suddenly the sweet, rich taste of the ninja’s pussy flooded her mouth. She trembled, opening her glazed eyes to stare fearfully…longingly…at the hot, dripping slit mere inches away…
She swallowed, finding herself suddenly…salivating…
She parted her lips, and tentatively, almost shyly, slicked her tongue along the ninja’s open sex.
Lace managed to stifle a cry, but, particularly after the unwanted molesting she’d endured, to have simple pleasure again. She shivered and felt herself running slick and hot as Akane lapped at her. She decided to return the favor and pressed her own mouth down into the girls silky folks. Long strokes, then teasing bites on her clit. She darted a few fingers an inch or two inside her as she felt her own passions rise.
Already she could feel her energies renewing. The warm, full passion healing her psyche.
Whatever resistance Akane had left in her melted away at the first touch of Lace’s tongue against her dripping folds. She moaned openly, her fingers clawing against the blonde’s smooth thighs as first her clit, then her hungry channel itself, were coaxed and teased by the ninja’s skillful hands and mouth.
All at once, something broke inside her. The helplessness, the utter eroticism of being held down, of having her desires stoked and inflamed utterly against her will, finally claimed her. Something inside her thrilled at being so overcome, so sexually dominated, that she was incapable of resisting any more.
Her eyes sank shut, and when Lace’s hips lowered again, her mouth was open, and waiting. She shuddered as she felt her pussy claim her lips again, groaning as she gave in to her need and licking hungrily at the woman’s drooling slit.
“MMmmmmnnhh! Mmm…mmaaahhh…oh…oh, god….” the young girl moaned between panting, breathless licks, “M-more…oh please, more…”
This time Lace couldn’t contain herself and cried out in triumphant pleasure, mostly from the sheer, raw physical sensations of Akane’s mouth and fingers on her increasingly hungry pussy, but also by the torrent of fevered fantasies she could sense pulsing from the girl’s mind.
Lewd, depraved vignettes, all with her bound tight, Lace standing over her, or molesting her, or striking her with a riding crop.
Feeling a quiveringly hot orgasm surging closer, she ground her hips down and sunk two fingers to the knuckle into the pussy below her, while her teeth tugged and angled it’s engorged clit, her tongue lashing!
Akane screamed, but found her voice instantly smothered as Lace’s pussy fell once more onto her open mouth, hotly demanding the service of her tongue once again. The overwhelmed nymphette could not deny her, and moaned hungrily as she mindlessly obeyed. She licked, sucked, and swallowed eagerly as she tried to coax more and more of the blonde’s sweet nectar from her pulsing sex.
Then, as she was losing herself in total submission, the sudden intrusion of long, slender fingers deep into her hungry cunt, and the wild assault on her throbbing clitoris sent her right over the edge.
She cried out, thrashing beneath her seductress as pleasure exploded through her abused body. She bucked and thrashed, held down by the weight of the woman above her, unable to stop the pumping fingers or the circling tongue that were sending her spiraling into subjugating ecstasy.
Her mind melted into mush; all she knew was that there was a hot, dripping pussy on her mouth, and a desperate need to reciprocate dominating her consciousness. She opened her mouth, sucking Lace’s clit with abandon, wanting, needing, to feel her conqueror explode just as hard as she had.
That did it. Lace arched her back as high as she could, feeling strands of the girls wetness stretching from her lips and hoarsely screamed into the stone walls as she came furiously… bouncing her hips in little micro vibrations.
She then collapsed, thinking to shift her hips off the poor girl and just soaked it in… smiling… almost glowing.
Akane panted breathlessly, absently licking at the wetness still covering her lips, her face. Her whole body tingled, and the coolness of the air felt like a balm against her hot, sweaty skin.
God, she couldn’t move. She could barely think. Reluctantly she managed to open her heavy eyes to look over at the smiling ninja, propped up on her side.
“T-that…that was…” she started to say, but then she trailed off, as little aftershocks quivered within her tensing belly. “Ohhh…god…I can’t…move…”
She looked at Lace, but found she could not meet the other girl’s steady, victorious stare. She glanced away, blushing shyly. “W-was it…was I…as good for you…?” she asked, feeling stupidly inarticulate, but somehow wanting desperately to know.
Lace smiled down to her as she propped herself up on her hands and knees, then managed to stand. She could feel her energy, her chi, utterly renewed. There was fatigue, of course, after something like that. But fatigue can be willed away. Maybe the powerful orgasm might even help her defend against the next round with the beast…
“Hmmm? Oh, fine, fine,” she said, absentmindedly as she studied the metal piece that anchored her neck chain to the wall.
She ran her fingertips over every element of the metal surface. Testing… gauging. Inevitably she found an impression in the stone next to the bolted metal plate. She then turned and glanced about the floor. Various pebbles were strewn about. She chose one within the reach her chain allowed that had a slight wedge shape and pressed it firmly into that spot until it stuck fast.
Two short strides away and she studied that spot carefully. A moment’s gathering of energy and focus.
She stepped lightly into the air, spinning with blurred, impossible speed. As the torque of her spin brought her fully round she lashed out with her right leg, angling her hips up and into the strike. Her heel cracked against the rounded edge of the pebble with incredible force.
It hurt, obviously, but years to conditioning alleviated the damage and pain. More importantly, the job was done. The plate was now broken half-away from the pillar. Two more knife-hand strikes and it cracked away completely.
She was free. There was a chain attached to a metal collar at her throat. But she was free.
“Now, to see about that door,” she grinned.
“That’s as far as you’ll go, shinobi.“
The voice sliced through the solitude of the cell, startling both women. Lace spun, falling instinctively into a combat stance as she turned to confront the source. A few rough stone blocks made a makeshift stairway against the far wall, and atop the three steps the heavy wooden door had been opened, and standing in the doorway, dressed in a regal blue kimono, was a scowling Lady Yoko. Two heavy guards slipped round from behind her to flank the passage, short-swords drawn. In her hand Yoko held a long, folded fan, and tapped it impatiently against her open palm.
“L-lady Yoko…!” Akane stammered, kneeling instantly, “Please, have mercy, please—”
“Still your tongue,” Yoko snapped, “I think you’ve given it enough exercise for one night, don’t you think?”
Akane blanched, and murmured an apology. Yoko turned to regard Lace, her glare icy.
“I can’t say I find your deception to be all that surprising, in hindsight,” she sighed, “I don’t know what I expected from a filthy gaijin, but you have done a wicked thing tonight, and for that, you will be punished.
She gestured at her guards. “Seize them both.”
Lace nearly laughed out loud.
The guards had training, of course. Years of it… but as heavy infantry. They were strongly armored and brandishing short but heavy blades that, yes, could penetrate armor, but at the expense of speed. They were of little concern. Lady Yoko was the unknown.
After a moment’s frown, Lace blasted into motion like ball from a cannon. Racing forward, low and quick she first hurled her throat chain, complete with tortured iron plate directly at Yoko’s face.
It might hurt her, but the main effort was to distract.
She then angled left to put one guard between her and the other guard to her right. She feigned a leap, allowing her body to rise off the ground, intending him to swing high. But from the moment of the leap, her torso was angling backwards so she would land on the ground almost lying down… and sword swing should pass entirely above her so she could sweep and perhaps crack the guards knee… armor or no…
The yojimbo reacted just as she expected he would. With practiced finesse he lashed out with the wakizashi, slicing dangerously close but still missing entirely.
As his swing went high, she landed on the floor, spinning her legs into a coiled V before scissoring them shut—right onto the samurai’s exposed right knee.
She heard and felt the snap as the bone cracked..
The man seized, collapsing to his knees as his leg gave out from under him, burdened by the weight of his layered splint-mail armor.
To his credit, he made absolutely no sound, merely a kind of surprised, choking gasp, as unimaginable pain must have paralyzed his entire lower body. Lace almost felt pity for him, but that still didn’t stop her from allowing the momentum of her attack to complete her revolution into a low crouch before she delivered a spinning roundhouse to the side of his head.
His helmet twisted at a hideous angle, and he crumpled to the ground, twitching.
In the scant seconds it had taken her to disable the first soldier, the chain she’d flung at Lady Yoko had reached its mark. While her shocked reactions were quick enough to avoid the ragged mounting plate, they were instinctive, and clumsy; to Lace’s trained eye, it was clear the woman had little to no combat training. Her companion, however, was another story entirely.
He lunged for the length of chain that lay strewn atop the rough stone steps, and in two swift twists wrapped a length of it around his armored forearm. He gave a savage tug, yanking against the collar still affixed to Lace’s throat. She winced, bracing her feet, and pulled back.
The chain pulled taut between them, and Lace could see the man’s intent; he had correctly identified her speed and agility as her primary advantage, and by grasping the chain he meant to restrict her movement, to cancel out her mobility. In his other hand his wakizashi gleamed dangerously, poised like the tail of a scorpion, as he began to approach, rolling his arm to reel in the chain with every cautious step.
Her smile was that of a hungry tiger. He was pulling her toward him a hand hold at a time, which affording her too far much opportunity. As she moved over the the fallen soldier, and with deliberate languid flair she reached down and collected his discarded sword.
“Yes, do pull me in, soldier,” she sneered.
She then began to flood his thoughts with expectations of how she would attack with the sword. That was his training, she was simply playing to her audience. Always, in his mind, he saw her slashing in with the sword at a flat angle. Sometimes a forehand strike, sometime reversed, but always a sideways stroke.
She slowly drew her back and to her right. Then, she stepped a foot forward to offer some slack in the chain, swung her right foot high then chopped it down on the chain with incredible force.
The sudden shift in balance pulled him forward, and he stumbled, caught off guard. He recovered surprisingly fast though, despite his armor, and caught himself before he totally hit the ground. With a furious snarl he yanked back with all his force, forcefully snapping the chain at Lace’s neck.
After the initial pull Lace used the energy and dove forward, feinting a thrust to his abdomen, then twisting the forward thrust into a tight circular slash at his arm. It was time see how sharp samurai swords really were…
The move caught him totally by surprise. He lurched back, bringing his sword arm up to deflect the blow, but Lace, without armor to weigh her down, was faster. She cleaved through his arm at the elbow, sending the severed appendage looping through the air in a spray of blood.
The samurai staggered back, grabbing for an arm that simply was no longer there, while the wound gushed streams of crimson across the floor. The blood loss was too much for him, and he soon crumpled to the ground, totally still.
Like the other, this man made absolutely no sound as he died. Despite her training, Lace found the silence to be seriously unnerving. To be sure, she made two quick steps to each corpse, driving her stolen blade into the juncture between their torso and helmet armor, severing their spines.
With a practiced flick of her arm she pulled the chain free and whipped the metal plate at its end off the ground to land neatly and her left hand. A fine spray of blood misted past her hand to redden a nearby pillar.
Turning only her head to the side, she focused on lady Yoko as she adjusted her ragged tunic, eyes leveled against hers as she spoke to her fellow captive. “Akane, one of these soldiers has the key to my collar on his person. Find it.”
The ninja stepped forward and leveled the point of her sword precisely at the lady’s jugular and said, “These two deaths, and all the other death and corruptions wrought against this land… none of this is the fault of your husband. It’s not even the demon. One does not judge the wolf for its kill. No, my dear lady Yoko, The blame for all of this rests entirely with you.”
Lace traced the sword forward leaving a thin line of blood along the side of her neck.
“You have one opportunity to avoid death.”
Lady Yoko’s pale features pulled into a smooth, self-assured smile.
“Indeed, and I took that opportunity, ninja—many, many years ago.”
Suddenly from behind her, Lace heard Akane cry out in alarm. Lace glanced quickly over her shoulder, and felt the blood freeze in her veins.
Akane had stumbled back, quickly backpedaling away from the first soldier’s heaped remains—which twitched and shuddered in a weird cacophony of animation.
Before Lace could react, something slick and hot lashed itself to her sword arm, coiling painfully around her wrist and twisting the blade away from Lady Yoko’s throat. She spun to see the second samurai lurching to his feet. His ruined arm was outstretched towards Lace, and from where the stump should have been, a nest of writhing red tentacles coiled madly in the air, one of them already gripping her arm in a vice hold. His hollow eyes stared sightlessly at her from beneath his heavy helmet, and without warning the whole mass of the tentacles sprang towards her at once.
With the first tendril holding fast to her arm, she could not evade the surging horror as it lashed itself to her legs, her waist, coiling around her shoulders and pinning her arms at her sides. She shouted a curse, but the inhuman thing just shambled closer. She flexed as hard as she could against the fleshy appendages, but they held her with infernal strength.
Behind her there was a sick ripping noise, followed by Akane’s horrified screams, as the first samurai erupted into a stumbling mass with dozens of oozing tendrils. Akane’s cry was abruptly choked off as one tendril coiled around her throat, while countless others fasted to the rest of her naked body.
“You are as impressive as the Master said you would be,” Yoko purred, “But the time for play is over, Lace-san.”
Lace screamed in fury and frustration. Brushing against the tentacles with all her strengths, but to no avail. She felt defeated, useless and moreover stupid for letting her guard flag!
But… advantage could be leveraged from any circumstance, even capture.
She let her body language betray and exaggerate her feelings. She hung limp against the demon tentacles and slouched in terrible resignation, her head forward, hair covering her eyes. She began a whimpered, whispering chant. Spoken too softly for others to discern, but clearly the same words repeated again and again.
At the same time, she subtly layered suggestions on lady Yoko’s consciousness, curiosity and even concern for what words she might be repeating. Some spell, perhaps?
Yoko’s brow furrowed, and she narrowed her eyes at the ninja. She was whimpering like a frightened child. A nagging uncertainty prompted her to take a cautious step forward.
“What is this? Tears? I took you for stronger, but perhaps you are simply human after all…”
She prodded Lace with the folded fan, forcing her head up to meet Yoko’s inquisition. “Speak, ninja. You’re wasting my time.”
Lace sobbed loudly when Yoko elevated her chin. The sob masked the sound of her cracking a ceramic pocket affixed to the back of her left rear molar.
She then spat a spray of the deadliest scorpion venom known directly into Yoko’s face; a venom to which, through extensive training, Lace had made herself immune.
Yoko screamed, stumbling backwards as the cloud of venom struck her in the face. She choked and gagged, eyes bulging even as her skin began to sear in agony. She dropped the fan to the ground where it landed with a clatter, burying her face in her hands in an irrational attempt to ward off the poison that was already soaking into her skin.
“YOU BITCH!” she screamed, “YOU WRETCHED—”
“I might be done for,” Lace spat, “But not before I get to watch you go first.”
Lady Yoko teetered on her feet, her long, dark hair falling about her in insane curtains. She twitched and convulsed on her feet, as the deadly toxin sent her nervous system into a coiling spiral. First her lungs would go, Lace reminded herself, almost clinically. Then her muscles would seize, and she’d snap a rib, or two, or three. Her back would crack, maybe her neck. Then, and only then, would her heart finally explode.
But as the kunoichi watched, Yoko’s spasms began to fade, and her mad gyrations began to calm. Lace’s brows knit in confusion. What the hell was—
“AAHhh!” Yoko exhaled, throwing her hair back, and glaring at Lace. The ninja gasped in horror. Lady Yoko’s face was seared, her perfect features marred by patches of mottled flesh. Her eyes had turned a hellish yellow, cat-like slits narrowing as they stared balefully at her adversary. Fangs protruded savagely as her crimson lips curled into a snarl.
“You will pay for that, ninja,” the priestess hissed, “I’ve had enough of your trickery! Hold her!”
Lace struggled to resist, but the creature holding her gave her no leverage at all as he lifted her bodily off the ground. A tendril snaked its way around her head, yanking it to the side to expose her pale, slender neck.
Lady Yoko chuckled at the distress in Lace’s eyes, a long tongue slipping past her lips to lick threateningly across the ninja’s vulnerable throat.
“Oh yes, little ninja. You’re not the only one who can use poisons.”
Lace grimaced, and pulled furiously. Her mind and heart both raced. She thought for anything… any idea, any tactic! But she was simply out of tricks.
Then, the inhuman witch opened her mouth, and sank her fangs into Lace’s neck.
All discipline abandoned her as Lace felt the fangs sink enter her throat! She screamed in primal desperation.
There was a moment of pain, a sharp, twin prick as Yoko’s mouth sank home, but a moment later thick, heady warmth was flowing through her body. She gasped, blinking in confusion, but then the whole room started to shift…spin…
“Nnnghh…what—what did you…do…” she muttered hoarsely, the words slurring badly in her mouth. Yoko released her neck, withdrawing her fangs even as pale drops of venom dripped across Lace’s collar and the upper swell of her breasts.
The demoness chuckled, “Just a little love-bite, my dear. Yaksha venom is quite potent. We use it to make our prey more…agreeable…”
She grabbed Lace’s chin, turning her head so that the ninja was forced to stare into Yoko’s brilliant, yellow eyes. They seemed to widen and yawn before Lace’s dazed, swimming vision, but unlike the rest of the room that kept hopelessly spinning, Yoko’s eyes were fixed, bright…and irresistibly inviting.
“NNno…” Lace whimpered, even as her eyes began to glaze, “N-n…no…”
“Poor little ninja,” Yoko cooed, petting her cheek with her long fingers. “Getting a little sleepy, are we? A little more…cooperative…? My venom does such wonderful things to a hot-blooded woman like you. You can feel it already, can’t you, that sweet, aching need? With every breath, your passions will only climb higher and higher, until you’re nothing but a quivering, desperate, mewling slut.”
She licked her lips, “The perfect frame of mind for your evening with my Master.”
She released the swooning ninja and gestured to the two hulking abominations. “Come. We’ve wasted enough time.”
Chapter 4 — Shinobi Slave
They were just… everywhere. Slithering and holding her. Stripping her of every freedom, every dignity. They were warm and slippery, monstrous but intriguing. It wasn’t long before she felt her nipples stiffen and a twitchy hunger begin to flutter between her legs as she tried to imagine how a tentacle would taste.
She shook her head to try and clear it. Then her mind drifted. Then she realized she was stroking the tentacle around her shoulder with her tongue. Akane’s heart was pounding. She couldn’t stop from taking furtive glances at the monstrous transformation that had come over Lady Yoko; whereas before she was easily a stunning beauty, now the traces of demonic influence twisted her features into something both horrifying yet impossibly mesmerizing to behold.
Yet the look in her eye, the hungry expectation, filled her with dread. What had happened to the other girls? Where were they being taken? She glanced sidelong at Lace, and found no hope there; the ninja was clearly out of it, lost in some torrid daydream as Yoko’s toxin did its insidious work.
Yet for all her fear, she couldn’t help but feel an unnatural heat stirring inside her as she was carried along by the abomination’s coiling limbs; the sensation of them, wet, hot, writhing, sliding against her flesh was doing strange things to her mind. The longer she stayed locked in its embrace, the more appealing their touch seemed to become.
How long would it be before she was hungrily running her tongue against one of them, just like Lace was? She hated admitting it, but the way she was feeling…it wouldn’t be very long, at all.
She didn’t get the chance to find out though, because a few moments later, they had reached their destination. Lady Yoko had led them to a chamber deep in the heart of House Koyasu, shielded from unwelcome guests by layers of obfuscating passageways and secret turns. It was the final retreat built into the structure, a hideaway in the event of a breach or a siege.
They entered that chamber now, and Akane was horrified to discover that it was worse than anything her fevered mind could have conceived.
At the center of the room was Lord Koyasu himself, or rather, what was left of him. A frail, desiccated husk of a man was all that remained, propped upright by the masses of thick, pulsing tentacles that fell away from him like the trunk and roots of some infernal tree. They spiraled away in all directions, covering the floor of the chamber and rising up along the walls, turning the entire room into a hellish forest of oozing tendrils and writhing limbs.
Seeing her horrified expression, Lady Yoko smirked, “Whatever is the matter, slave? Does the true form of your lord and master frighten you? He has grown beyond the capacity of that fool Akehito’s body to support, and is now undergoing a divine metamorphosis. That wretched ninja forced our hand; the injuries he sustained require a much higher concentration of chi to heal. And that, my dear…is where you come in.”
She gestured towards the forest of living tissue, and for the first time, Akane saw the other girls…
Kiyone and Megumi were caught in the grip of seemingly myriad tentacles, so many that almost no square inch of their pale skin could be seen beneath the endless coils. They were splayed apart, their limbs held wide while the demon fed from their nubile bodies. Tentacles gripped and massaged their arms, their legs, their backs; cunning limbs twisted and squeezed aching breasts, while between their open thighs, countless tendrils moved and thrust. They were being penetrated several times at once, by tentacles thick and thin, seemingly in every orifice available. Thickly veined members pistoned in and out of their open mouths, smothering their moans and cries alike.
Worst of all though was their eyes, and the expressions on their faces. Their eyes were rolled back, fluttering and white, while looks of absolute mindlessness froze their features into masks of sheer, overwhelmed ecstasy.
Periodically a tentacle would shudder and swell, and the girls would groan or cry out in pleasure, until it fell away from their bodies still spurting its vile seed, only to be replaced by yet another.
On and on. How long had they been here? How long would they last…!
“Your friends are helping our master grow strong,” Yoko growled, “Now…you too will do your part.”
“Wh—NO!!! No, please, don’t—NO!!” Akane screamed as the abomination holding her hurled her into the waiting web of the demon Koyasu’s insatiable limbs. As they caught her, coiling around her in a lurid and monstrous embrace, Akane twisted her head back to scream.
“PLEASE!! LACE-SAN, PLEASE WAKE UP!! WAKE UP BEFORE IT’S TOO—URGHK” She gagged as a thick tentacle forced its way into her mouth, bullying her tongue apart and pressing insistently against the back of her throat. Suddenly, Akane felt the wretched thing surge, and a gush of something hot and thick sprayed into her mouth, spilling out around the cock-thing to dribble down her chin.
Akane fought and pulled, but the tentacles held her fast, and the one in her mouth just kept coming and coming. She was going to choke. She was going to drown, if—if she didn’t…
Driven to desperation, the helpless girl did the only thing she could think to do.
And the second that thick, potent semen entered her system, the girl’s frantic resistance suddenly faded. She fell limp in the arms of the demonic organs, her mind instantly overwhelmed by the demon’s vile, evil will.
Color blossommed bright red on her cheeks, and her nipples sprang to helpless prominence even before a pair of twin, slimy tendrils wound themselves around her heaving tits. Her legs were eased apart, and the first tentacle ran itself across her suddenly-sodden pussy lips like a long, monstrous tongue.
Akane moaned around the still spurting tentacle in her mouth, intoxicated dizziness forcing her heavy eyes to close. The tentacle slid itself in and out, dueling with her tongue, before it exploded in another gush of corrupting seed.
It filled her mouth, it dripped down her chin…and Akane, eagerly, began to drink. Akane’s struggles and cries helped pull Lace from her stupor, though she suspected that portion of the toxin’s effects was fading anyway, and by design. It was insidious… as her clarity returned, so did her awareness of just how erotically charged Yoko’s poison had made her.
The coiled tentacles were constantly shifting as they moved her into the hideous chamber and the effect was intensely distracting. One simply grazed along her right nipple, already tightly erect, and Lace couldn’t suppress a lustful groan! The sensation was… impossibly intense from such casual contact.
She could feel every minutia of every sensation and all of them fueled her growing lust.
The ninja witnessed Akane’s debasement, and that of the other girls. Part of her was fueled with indignant rage, but a greater part of her felt longing and even envy for what they were experiencing.
Through all her ordeals since coming to this wretched house, nothing had filled her hot, tight, wet pussy, and it yearned in objection. Again she shook her head to try and clear it, struggling against the massive, unyielding tentacles. But that very act of useless resistance reinforced in her mind that she was… enslaved.
A warm trickle of wetness slithered down her left thigh. All at once, Lace felt herself being moved towards Lady Yoko, who was reclining upon a throne of living, squirming tendrils in full view of the hedonistic hellscape unfolding in the center of the room.
She was lifted through the air and lowered into Yoko’s waiting lap, her back against the house’s demonic mistress. The throne itself moved to accept her, enveloping her hands and wrists and trapping them against the back of the ‘chair’, while her knees were spread until they were bound against its throbbing armrests.
Then she felt cool, slender hands fall upon her hips, and full, painted lips nuzzled the back of her neck.
“Watch closely, ninja,” Lady Yoko crooned, “And behold the prowess of my Master.” She let her fingers tease and explore the smooth skin of Lace’s stomach, hips, and inner thighs. The oni-bride’s silk kimono felt soothingly cool against the ninja’s feverish skin, inviting her to abandon her struggles and simply sink into her vile embrace.
To Lace’s poisoned mind, every touch felt like it was setting off tiny fireworks across her skin, only amplifying the needy, neglected feelings in her heavy breasts and in her treacherously quivering sex.
She sensed movement in front of her, and managed to open her eyes. Her mouth fell open as she beheld Akane floating only scant feet away, her arms pinned behind her back, and her thighs split open in an exact mirror of her own. The cum-spewing tentacle had abandoned her mouth for the moment, but semen had spilled all down the poor girl’s chin and neck, running in thick, oozing droplets now over the swells of her breasts. Akane’s eyes were open but unseeing; glazed and unfocused. She was panting heavily, and every once in a while, her tongue would slip out to taste the slimy seed still covering her lips.
She was reclined backwards, giving Lace an unobstructed view of her inflamed pussy and the wetness that dripped to the floor before her very eyes.
And then, the nest of tentacles at the center of the room seemed to quicken; the desiccated form of Akehito shuddered and twitched like a hollow, ruined puppet as the writhing evil doubled back on itself, surging back in like a hand re-entering a glove.
Only this time, the glove could not hold.
Like a snake in molt, the paper-thin veneer of its human host tore and split, falling off in unrecognizable tatters to reveal the towering, corded musculature of the oni lord. His skin was a deep, ruddy red, and even stooped he dominated the center of the room, every bit of seven feet tall, at least.
His eyes smoldered and smoked, and the wild mane of his hair moved almost as if alive. Lace immediately recognized his cruel, wolfish features as the living recreation of Akehito’s cursed tattoo come to terrifying life.
He looked down at his hands, clenching them experimentally, and grunting in approval at the strength he found there. He regarded Yoko with a glowing, infernal stare.
“You have done well, wife. I am revived to walk this wretched land once more, free of that weakling’s stinking flesh. What tribute have you to offer your Master, Yoko?”
“These women, my Lord,” Yoko hissed, possessively taking hold of one of Lace’s heaving tits. “Use them as you see fit!”
His eyes swiveled to the helpless form of Akane, and flared in hunger. He began stalking towards her, and as he walked, Lace saw the thick, throbbing member rising imperiously from his loins sway menacingly with every step.
Akane, lost in her erotic stupor, was dangerously unaware of him until she felt his chest press against her back. She started, and a glimmer of consciousness returned to her eyes. She blinked wearily, then gaped when they settled upon Lace bound against Yoko’s throne.
“L-lace-san, w-what’s…what’s happening—OH! oh, oh GOD what is THAT?!” she whined. She stared down in gasping terror as the Oni’s monstrous cock rose up between her legs, as long as her arm and with a bulbous head the size of her fist. She pulled and twisted uselessly against the tendrils grasping her limbs, but they easily held her fast. Red, sharp-clawed fingers took hold of her hips, forcing them still. She gasped as the Oni pulled her against him, the heat of his flesh setting her back and ass aflame.
She pleaded, “Please Lace-san, please—help me—!” before the Oni angled his hips, and the length of her slit suddenly pressed against the top of his engorged cock. She seized, arching her back, a ragged gasp tearing from her lips, “OOH! Oh no—oh god, he’s—it’s so….HOT!”
The bound ninja didn’t know what to say or do. And that impotence was so foreign to her it stoked her to near-panic. “Be strong, Akane!” was all she could muster. All memory of Akane’s devious words and deeds were gone and all the ninja could feel for her now was sympathy.
The girl squirmed, unable to escape, the swollen lips of her pussy spreading against the unyielding column of flesh between her legs. Despite her protests, in moments her oozing submission had turned the top of his cock into a slick, glistening mess as he forced her all-too eager clitoris to grind against his rock-hard cock.
Akane’s protests quickly dissolved into whimpers, and then into moans, as inhuman desire slowly overtook her will. Her mouth trembled, her eyes once more began to sink shut, yet still she begged, “Pleaseee…Lace-san…oh god p-please…he’s making m-me…making me sooo…wet….oooohhhh!”
It was like watching someone drown. Akane was so limp in her bindings, and her head had fallen back to rest powerlessly against the demon’s broad chest. Then Lace felt Yoko’s fingers slide against her own dripping sex, and the jolt of evil pleasure reminded her just how horribly turned on she really was.
“Watch, ninja,” Yoko whispered, licking her ear, “Watch…because you’re next!”
“No… please, no…” Lace’s body responded to Yoko’s touch far too easily. She felt her skin yearn for more as she moved her body against the woman’s hands. The whispers in her were maddening and she could feel her pussy unfold her wet, dewy, hot petals. Her clit throbbing and increasingly desperate to be touched, something the evil Yoko, quite deliberately, refused it.
The ninja clenched her teeth and arched and writhed, unable to control her overly sensitive responses. She licked her lips and watched the demonic cock split Akane both physically and mentally.
“You’re evil,” was all she could think to say. “Purely and unnNGGhhh…. suh… simply evil.” Even as she said it, she felt her hips pulse into Yoko’s devious fingers. She thought of Akane’s plea, about the demon making her so wet and that Lace should do something to help. The problem was, watching Akane’s beautiful body being so entirely violated was making Lace wet… “She wants him now,” Yoko said in hushed tones, ignoring Lace’s accusation. “Look at her, Lace-san. Do you see how readily she submits? Do you hear how eagerly she pants? He has taken her before, and her body…it remembers its master.”
“Not… not its… master… uhnngghh…” Lace replied feebly.
Her fingers slicked and stroked Lace idly, content to just keep her sodden pussy smoldering. The Master was explicit in his desires. He would be the one to finally break the ninja…and no one else.
Before them, it was just as Yoko had said. Akane pleading and whimpered protests had dissolved fully into sweet, desperate moans. She seemed to be caught in some kind of deep, somnambulic trance, so completely had the demon managed to seduce away her will. He no longer had to shift her hips against him, for they moved now with a life of their own, sliding and grinding down against the column of searing, unyielding flesh between her legs. Every stroke crushed her tiny clit against his broad, veiny shaft, now almost dripping with Akane’s juices and glistening dangerously in the firelight.
Every few strokes, Akane would suddenly stiffen, and utter a gasping wail, and Lace knew that she’d just cum. And staring entranced at the sticky union between her aching slit and his throbbing cock, it was impossible not to imagine just what she must be feeling, right then. He did not move. She bore all the action, all the shame, as her body rocked itself enticingly against him. Her face was turned towards the demon’s visage, her lips uttering whispered desires Lace did not have to hear to comprehend.
Akane had only one thing on her mind now: the only thing that could fill up that awful emptiness she felt inside.
Finally, after an eternity of torment, the Oni finally relented. He grabbed hold of Akane’s legs, hooking behind her knees, and spread her wide. She moaned gratefully, nodding her head in mindless enthusiasm as he finally swung his hips back to bring the drooling head of his demon cock right to the entrance of her pussy.
“Oooohhh, ohhhh….yesss!” Akane wailed, “please Master, don’t make me beg any more, please put it inside me, please, oh please, plea—AAH! Ah, ooohhhh….GOD!!”
She threw her head back, and as soon as the tentacles released her arms she reached up to grab and claw at the Oni’s broad shoulders. The head of his cock had slipped inside her, splitting her wide. Her essence ran down his shaft in thick rivulets, almost a foot of thick, throbbing cock poised beneath her.
The demon’s eyes seemed to narrow wickedly as he watched Lace’s rapt expression, her eyes helplessly fixated on the sight before her. After slowly rolling his head inside her to allow her to acclimate to his girth, the demon allowed her to fall, and slowly, inch by inch she descended upon his cock.
Feeling Yoko’s fingers strumming in almost hypnotic rhythm within the inflamed folds of her pussy. Her hips kept pulsing. She couldn’t make them stop.
Akane’s subjugation… It was terrible… But incendiary. Lace wanted to break free of her bonds, to leap forward, to strike him at his heart. But her pussy was so empty. It had been for years. Lady Yoko’s fingers we’re maddeningly skillful, but teasing. Always teasing. Nothing inside.
She splayed the folds of her pussy wide and would then dance her fingernails up and down the length making lace moan and squirm.
But the emptiness, the hunger. It grew and grew.
When the demon’s cock sunk entirely home within Akane and she screamed and thrashed and came wantonly like the common harlot Lace knew she we not, Lace quivered and convulsed. Not with orgasm, but need. It may have been unfair, unbridled, and unwelcome; but itchy, insistent, riotous, need it remained.
For the first time, Lace groaned in abject pity. When her orgasm subsided, Akane mutely trembled. Her dazed eyes followed the sound of Lace’s desperation, and stared at her with heavy, lidded eyes.
Then, the demon lifted her about halfway up his cock…before letting her weight drag her slowly back down its shiny length. Akane…moaned.
“Nnggnhhh…! Wh-what…?” She turned her head as if the Oni was speaking to her, though Lace heard not a word. Akane certainly did though, because after a moment she nodded dreamily. “Yes, Master…a-as you c-command…!”
She turned back towards the stunned ninja before she spoke, her voice thick with lust. “He’s inside me, Lace…he’s so deep, so…hot….so hard…mmmhhhn! Ohh…he’s moving now, s-slowly fuh—fucking….mmmeee!!! OOOOHHHHH! OH GOD, oh faster, please…! He’s making me feel every…every INCH—AAAHHHH!”
Her back arched as he penetrated her again and again, as he forced her to explode around his cock. She threw her head back and forth, “S-Soooo…goooood! Ooohhh Lace, Lace, I-I can’t stop…cumming…s-someone help, please…! My head…going blank…!”
Akane rocked her hips even faster against her Masters strokes, sucking as much into her with each roll of her hips as she could reach. Her eyes rolled into her head. “Fuck me….f-fuck…FUCK—YEESSS!” Only after incredible effort was the ninja able to turn away, eyes clenched shut… Panting and sweaty.
She tried to banish the image of Akane fucking her own hips down onto the monstrous, veined, surging cock. Its length and girth swirling in Akane’s slick, sticky pleasure.
“Fuck… S… Stop it.. All of you… Please…”
Lace opened her eyes and saw Yoko’s semi-monstrous face, and feel nothing but those insidious fingers scissoring against her clit oh-so-light. Far too light. She closed her eyes again, but screeched out as her imagination bombarded her with me wretchedly hot visages.
Akane, inverted by tentacles in front of her, both if them savaging each others pussies with their mouths.
Lace and Akane violently competing to get their mouths around that massive demon cock.
Lace bound and tugging, her ankles together below, wrists together above. Pulled taut. Lady Yoko, beautiful once more, slowly circling her, letting the high heels of her boots click ominously against the cold stone floor. While Akane showered Lace’s calves and feet with tonguing kisses.
She shook her head tried to ignore how happy Alkane looked, how utterly blissful. Diminished But happy. It didn’t take long for the girl to reach her limit. Her movements became halting, erratic, as her mind yearned for more but her body simply lacked the strength to persist. With a final groan, she shuddered mightily in a wrenching orgasm before falling utterly limp in the Oni’s grip. Still he moved her, drawing one last draught of pleasure from her battered body before he lifted her off and let her fall to the ground.
Instantly she was swarmed by the nest of writhing tendrils, which coiled around her in a hungry embrace. Akane was senseless to it all as she was drawn into a living web, just like the other girls. Soon she would wake, and already the tentacles poised around her, drooling in anticipation.
With one plaything exhausted, the Oni looked now to the delectable morsel Yoko held in her grasp. It’s face twisted into something between a smirk and a snarl; it remembered Lace’s earlier outburst, and would not be caught so unprepared.
He stepped In front of Yoko’s throne, and nodded at his concubine approvingly as he saw the state the wretched ninja was in. His burning eyes fell upon her and at once she heard his voice echoing in her head.
There is no escape now, little ninja, he chortled, I will enjoy hearing you beg for the mercy of being filled with my seed.
The drooling head of his cock, still throbbing and covered with Akane’s sordid essence, pressed against the flat of Lace’s stomach.
The heat, though expected, still took her by surprise. Lace dragged her gaze from Akane’s trembling body to the thing pressed into her. She glared up at the demon with a snarl, but still felt the petals of her wet pussy opening… Hungering… Yoko dragged her fingernails from between the ninjas breasts outward, distinctly trapping then scraping her middle fingers across laces chiseled-hard nipples and giggled into her ear as she felt the ninja shudder from the sensation.
“hunnggghg… Fiends… Hellspawn… Noo… Wont buh… Beg…” Yoko’s hands sank into Lace’s huge tits, pressing in and delighting in their exquisite softness. She looked up her Master suggestively.
“This gaijin whore has the most sensitive breasts, my lord,” she giggled, “Would you care to sample them?“
She eased Lace’s tits outward, creating a salaciously enticing valley. The demon’s lips twisted into a smirk. He stepped forward, and smeared a trail of thick, gooey precum up Lace’s belly until the length of his cock rested squarely between her heavy breasts. Yoko immediately pressed them together, trapping the column of pulsing meat between her generous endowments. Even hers were not enough to capture all of him, and the head reared up to stand dangerously close to Lace’s lips.
Mere inches away, it was impossible to ignore the sight of it, precum flowing in a seemingly endless cascade that all but begged to be licked away. The scent of it, the pure, bestial masculinity, was making her head swim.
At Yoko’s urging, he began to rock his hips, driving the length of his cock up and down the hot, yielding channel between her tits. Yoko’s fingers clamped down on her turgid nipples, mercilessly twisting and pulling on them even as she massaged her Master’s pulsing cock. Her breath was hot in Lace’s ear. “How does it feel, slut? This is what your purpose is now. You’re nothing but a toy, a beautiful little doll, for my Master to use at will…and you love it!” The trappe ninja whimpered hotly and couldn’t help but look down. The massive, veined phallus surging again and again between her breasts, crushed a they were by Yoko’s devilish fingers. It’s head would emerge and almost thump against her face before retreating obscenely again.
A haze consumed Lace’s vision.
She was young again, tied in a tangled web of knotted rope. Her body was inverted, head down, wrists and elbows tied behind her back. Her legs were splayed and tangled haphazardly above her, tied bent and stretched with rope.
Lace’s ninja sensei’s erect cock was directly beneath her, already glistening from her saliva. He was wearing a silk patterned gi, tugged and unfastened open enough to reveal his erection, impressive for a man of his age. He lay on an opulent bed of padding and pillows. In his right hand he held one end if a rope that stretched above the two of them and behind Lace’s awareness.
Once again, he relaxed that arm. His hand travelled a couple of feet upward, still gripping the rope. She heard but could not see a series of pulleys wind above her as her body lowered a few inches. As she was required, her mouth hungrily sucked and teethed those inches of his cock. The fat, old man hissed through his teeth.
“Good… Good little gaijin. Make your master cum. Maybe you’ll eat tonight.”
Her world spun and blurred again. Present-Lace cried out in molten anguish as she surged her shoulders forward and down on the demons next up- stroke, anchored his massive cockhead in her mouth and slathered it with her tongue behind her teeth. She groaned like a whore around that cock, her whole body reduced to utter, primal instinct. The shocked look on Yoko’s face quickly dissolved into an approving, derisive smirk. The slut was finally acting her part, and from the look on her Master’s face, it seemed she was not without skill. Drool ran in thick rivulets over the Oni’s leering lips, his eyes narrowed in silent approval as Lace hungrily worshiped the head of his cock. He shifted his hips, offering her more to devour. Yoko followed her master’s lead, using Lace’s breasts to massage and stroke his pulsing organ to even greater fullness.
The sounds her lovely captive made as she obediently serviced his manhood made her own body flush with recalled desire. She knew just how it felt having him in her mouth, how his heat and size and taste could all but overwhelm her and crush her will to nothing. On her knees, with as much of him in her mouth and throat as she could stand, her body would tremble and her pussy would ache, wishing that his enslaving length was in there rather than against her tongue but slavishly grateful for it at the same time.
His demonic seed could ignite the passions of even the most hardened woman, and she had no doubt about what its effects would be on the helpless ninja. Already she could feel her body starting to quiver against her, could feel the way her thighs were pressing needfully apart. She stroked him faster, sensing his approaching release.
“Drink, little ninja,” she cooed into Lace’s ear, “He grows ever more urgent. Taste him but once, and you’ll never want to stop…!” Brought lower than low, she suckled and swallowed. The devious elixir of his essence, even at a trickle, set her clit on fire. She struggled against the tentacles, but this time, not for escape, but to get her hands around the cock that was her world. It only took another few moments. Between Lace’s hungry mouth and Yoko’s deftly delivered tit-fuck, the Oni reached its limit. With a guttural growl, he retreated until only the head of his cock remained between Lace’s lips, and then he began to cum.
The first jet of searing fluid spilled across Lace’s tongue.
The throbbing cock swelled a final time, and then it began to pulse mightily, every spasms sending another ribbon of thick, bubbling seed pouring into her. It spilled past the seal of her lips, gushing down her neck and onto her soft, stroking tits. Yoko giggled, massaging the slick semen into Lace’s skin, knowing full well the insidious heat it would incite.
“Swallow it, darling,” Yoko urged, “Swallow it all.“
Lace gurgled and swallowed as best she could. Wherever it spilled on her skin… particularly when Yoko smoothed if in like a lotion, she felt every cell come alive with wretched, consuming intrigue.
She bucked and squirmed riotously against the tentacles, her own need, unabated, indeed soaring, as thin ropes of the demons cum spiderwebbed across her face and chest! Finally, the monster’s seemingly endless surge slowed to a trickle, and he pulled his cock free from Lace’s mouth, leaving her gasping for air. He chuckled mercilessly, smearing the last of his spend clean on her lips and cheeks.
She was an utter mess. Even for all her effort, the greater part of his release covered her chin, neck, and upper chest. It dripped slowly off her raging nipples, until Yoko’s fingers found them and rolled the turgid buds in the beast’s lingering fluids.
Licking her fingers and shivering with delight, the corrupted priestess eyed her Master’s still rigid cock purposefully.
“The slut hungers for you Master,” she whispered, reaching down to lewdly spread Lace’s pussy lips apart. “Won’t you show her your mercy?”
The beast’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly the tentacles began to undulating into motion.
No, he intoned, The ninja shall seal her own fate.
He reclined on a newly-formed throne of tendrils, his cock rearing ominously up from his loins, still glistening with a mixture of his own semen and Lace’s saliva. The tentacles binding Lace suddenly released, dropping her at his feet. He crooked a finger at her, calling her to him. Come, woman. You can deny yourself no longer. Come…and become my slave.
She landed on the impossibly shifting mass of tentacle flesh. What was left of her dignity suffered further as she heard and saw various liquids fall from her body, splashing almost playfully against the demonic tendrils. She saw them ripple and pulse in reaction, as affected as she.
Then her eyes snapped upwards to it. Throbbing. Towering. Slaked not at all for its recent eruption. She’d never felt such hunger and so she began to crawl. It was absurd of course. Parts of her mind understood that. But she could feel the demons ichor warming her from the inside out.
“HUnnggghhh” was all she could say as she lowered her head and licked a tentacle when she crawled past it. Meanwhile her pussy, or maybe it was some demon’s trick, but at this point Lace simply didn’t care, but it knew what was right and screamed it to her lust soaked mind.
Grab it, it clearly said. Suck it. Ride it.
The ninja looked forward , the vestiges of her will crying in desperate agony. She was free. She might escape. Some trick perhaps….
Lace screamed primal and loud. She crawled with the speed and assurance of a spider after prey on its web. In a moment she was atop her demon. She gripped him behind his monstrous head and easily poised her molten pussy over his cock. Every base instinct screaming at her to impale herself! Yoko watched Lace’s wanton display and purred in anticipation. She leaned back into her throne of flesh and shivered as she felt it, an extension of her Master’s form and will, welcome her eagerly. Writhing limbs erupted from its body to chase through the folds of her robe to seek out her own naked body beneath. They curled around her with the familiarity of a lover, encircling her breasts, her waist, her thighs and capturing her in their pulsing embrace. They bound her wrists, though she was willing; they snared around her neck like a collar, though she submitted completely. It was all meant as a reminder, she knew, a reminder that she was forever his slave, forever his to enjoy and plunder.
Her pussy flooded instantly.
A tentacle poised itself near her mouth and she kissed it affectionately. With the slack offered her arms, she took hold of a particularly satisfying looking tentacle and drew it between her legs, leading it to her sodden slit and her hot, aching center. It slid inside her hungrily, making her arch her back like a cat and mewl like the slut she was.
Through increasingly blurry eyes she watched as Lace positioned herself atop her Master’s surging manhood, and felt a pang of what could only be jealous longing. Her fate was nearly sealed; his demonic power would make the seemingly impossible penetration all too easy. He would allow no pain to accompany her submission, nothing to bolster her will to resist, however much might remain; there would be only pleasure, sheer, mind warping, infernal pleasure.
Her body would yield for him, and then, as the nights went on and on and he kept her filled and satisfied beyond anything a mere mortal might achieve, her mind, then her soul, would follow.
She would know. It was, after all, the exact same thing that happened to her.
The tentacle inside her quickened, and she began to moan.
Lace used the demons horns as an anchor and impaled herself on his fat, hard, hot, gruesomely handsome cock and she screamed! She threw her head back , her wet hair flinging in millions of tiny coils behind her. She came instantly, squeezing down on it as hard as she ever had on any lover. Her hips pulsed in triumphant approval as she screamed her lungs out in final, abject humiliating cum. The Oni watched her succumb to her raging desires, and relished the sensation of her deliciously tight cunt clamping down on his conquering shaft. He lay perfectly still, content to allow her to struggle upon him. Even with her fervent attempt, still he was not yet fully inside her. The orgasm had momentarily robbed her of her ability to coordinate her movements, and so his clawed hands took hold of her hips, and he began guiding her.
He raised her up, withdrawing slowly so as to let her feel every inch she had accepted inside her, only to reverse direction almost savagely, going just that much deeper. He did it again, and again, until Lace was panting—then moaning—and her hips had begun repeating the monstrous movement without his guidance. He kept one hand possessively clinging to her firm ass, while the other moved to claim one of her swaying tits in its hot, rough palm.
His voice oozed in her mind.
Good, little ninja. Very good. Your hips move with a life of their own. Feel how I fill you, how my cock makes you tremble…
He chuckled, rolling his palm across her rigid nipple. This is what you are meant for. You are a woman, and a woman has needs…Needs that only I can satisfy…
He let his long, sinuous tongue out to lash against her captive breast, savoring the taste of her glistening flesh.
After tonight, you won’t be able to think about anything else but my cock, and how it feels to serve me.
He squeezed her ass, urging her to hasten. More, slut. You desire…more…! “hNNGGGHHHhhhhhhh….. m..making me… YUnNnGHGH… Y..You’re fungh.f..fforcing me…“
Enflamed, Lace bucked and pounded her hips down on the magical cock faster and faster… the sinuous tongue leaving a trail of searing hot saliva. She cried out and writhed like a woman possessed. He reached down to pinch and flick her clit as the massive shaft shoved past it again and again. He allowed Lace to ride him until he felt her pussy begin to tighten desperately around his cock. She cried out, panting increasingly incoherent gasps as she raced towards imminent release. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts towards his waiting mouth as she moved to drive herself once more upon his conquering shaft, but suddenly his hands are at her waist, holding her, preventing her from descending.
Lace groaned in abject frustration, struggling, but he was far stronger and effortlessly kept merely the head of his engorged cock in the quivering opening of her sex.
Does it feel good, little ninja? he taunted her, enjoying her confusion and upset. Shall I continue? Shall I keep fucking you until I fill your womb with my seed…or shall I let you go?
He turned her body in his grip, so that the rounded head of his glans rubbed squarely over her throbbing clit.
One word and I will set you free, he promised, To leave my house and go in safety, to never fear the touch of my hand, or the pleasure of my cock, ever again.
His eyes burned into hers. Beg, little ninja, he commanded, Beg for what you truly desire. She groaned deep and low, then whimpered, feeling him… swivel her like that. Her body… perfectly toned and slick with sweat wanted nothing more than to feel all that meat inside her. “Please.. please… ohGOD.. please, don’t make me…” Her hips shook with need. Her clit twitched with it.
“Please…” He let go of her hips, leaving her perched so precariously atop the unyielding column of his flesh. One sharp-nailed hand took hold of the outside of her thigh, stroking it, urging her to relax, to allow her weight to drag her down that swollen length, while the other began idly circling her achingly hard nipple with a hooked claw.
I will make you do anything I want, the demon taunted her, Your body burns for my touch. Even now, I feel your juices dripping down my cock. Your pussy aches for me, for the pleasure only I can provide.
His burning eyes glowed enticingly, compelling her to lose herself in their vaporous, swirling depths. His cock pulsed in time to his great, beating heart, almost tapping itself rhythmically against her clit.
You want to submit, he oozed, You want to give in. To be taken. You can imagine what it would be like to give in, to sink onto my cock and let it satisfy your need.
He angled his hips, and the head of his cock slid along, and between, the flushed folds of her pussy, slathering her with trails of slick, bubbling precum. At the same time, his hand took complete hold of her breast, cupping it and massaging it while the pad of his thumb rubbed across its distended peak.
He was poised now, pressing imperiously against the opening of her sex, ready to impale her, ready to fuck her, ready to drive her out of her mind…
Her knees trembled. She didn’t know how much longer she could support her weight. Driven nearly insane with need she could almost feel her former masters lashing her bared ass unless she impaled herself on an oiled, wooden phallus at a quick enough pace, forcing her to rape herself while they laughed and stroked their cocks all around her.
With a harsh cry of surrender followed by a primal groan of bliss she pushed herself down, feeling his impossible girth splitting her open. The sheer, raw heat of it was as startling as it’s girth. And the descent was neither patient nor ladylike.
She slammed her hips down until her ass nearly slapped against his wet thighs! Her eyes wide… She’s never been so… filled. She caught the demon’s gaze. He grinned in lecherous triumph.
“Y… You’re huuuunnnnnngh st… Still fffuuuckkkkk… Fr. Forcing m… Me…”
In response he simply pulsed the muscled sinews of his cock buried so deeply inside if her. She arched her back and came again! Shrieking and shaking in release.
“Of course I am,” he chuckled, “You’re nothing but my puppet now, little ninja. Now do as I say…and dance!” The demon watched Lace’s dazed, panting face with a hungry sneer. Only hours before this same woman had dared to challenge him, had dared to hurt him, and now she was his helpless, needy little toy. His cock thrummed delightfully as the hot, tight folds of her pussy quivered around him. She moaned as she bounced up and down his length, stroking him, no longer able to resist the terrible desire he had stoked inside her.
She was beautiful, and deadly; a rarity so different from the fat-titted cattle he allowed his lesser appendages to violate mercilessly at his feet. This one still sought to defy him, even now! His loins burned. His thick tongue lashed out to wet his lips eagerly.
She would be an excellent slave, a dangerous flower to wield against his many enemies, but she needed to be properly…tamed. Broken. One night would not be nearly enough…
He looked towards Yoko and met his concubine’s eyes. She understood him instantly, moaning and nodding while eagerly sliding the thick tentacle faster and faster into her clenching sex. Already he could see the gears turning in her head as she planned the delicious ninja’s total subjugation.
But for now he craved release. Lace’s sweet cries were growing louder and more desperate, the dance of her hips even more frantic, as his cock drove her once more to the precipice.
Enough. He’d been patient enough. Now, she was merely an object for his use and satisfaction.
He grabbed hold of her waist with his great clawed hands, and began to mercilessly move her up and down his cock, driving the pace, focusing only on the intoxicating sensation of using her as a fucksleeve. She grabbed at his hands reflexively, white knuckled, the force of his movement driving the air from her lungs. He didn’t care. He could feel the cum churning in his heavy sack, felt it bubbling up his shaft, and could hold out no more.
Come for me, slave, he intoned into Lace’s mind, Come…and SLEEP. Lace felt her lust seethe like rage within her. Every stroke increasingly stretched her tight pussy, and left more if his slick sweat and precum inside her, which, of course made her all the more sensitive as he hammered her down onto his cock harder and faster! In that wretchedly blissful moment, she began to clench and unclench against his shaft, rutting her hips almost violently backwards at the end of each of his conquering thrusts, sparking his pleasure just a bit more. It was a technique she’d been taught a decade ago and never failed to amplify a man’s final moments before orgasm.
Somewhere deep in her crazed mind she reasoned she did this to impress him, to perhaps even seduce him… that it was tactical. The alternative, that she simply yearned to please him, was too abhorrent to consider.
Another orgasm crashed through her, banishing all thought as she howled in glorious, fulfilled lust. She tried to hold back but it was no use! She felt her full breasts bouncing comically as he moved faster still and when she felt him begin to twitch and swell inside her she felt her pussy rapidly spasm.
With a rumbling growl, the demon drove in as deeply as he could, and began exploding into the depths of her defenseless cunt in great shuddering spasms. That sensation forced Lace to cum again, even harder than before! Her ecstatic pussy rewarded the demon’s cock with a tight, twisting clench that drew a snarled smile of surprise from the creature. Beads of sweat sprayed from her hair in every direction as she tossed violently, feeling him unload within her hot, spasming sex.
“Hnghkk…. Hgn… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!”
Behind, around, and beneath them, a chorus of feminine wails rose up as all of the tentacles, and their helpless captives, obediently began orgasming as well. Lady Yoko let out a startled cry as the tentacle she had been diligently servicing erupted unexpectedly, sending hot, thick streams of cum spewing through the air. She let out a disappointed groan, hastily aiming the spittle-slick cockhead at her open mouth to catch the remaining volleys, but so much of it had fallen wastefully to the floor.
She felt a shudder pass through the tendrils enveloping her, and then one by one, in a great wave that issued from where Lace sat mounting the demon’s rigid phallus, all of the tentacles began to erupt. Yoko was momentarily distracted from her shock as the thick member buried in her sodden sex followed suit, sending the demonic concubine into her own gasping, shuddering release.
Yet as soon as she recovered, the panting demoness looked about to see the last throes of her Master’s all-consuming eruption dripping thickly from his countless limbs.
Though her body burned with the infernal heat of her Master’s potent seed, a cold pang of uncertainty had lodged itself in Yoko’s breast, and she looked to where the blonde harlot sat, impaled and overwhelmed, in Akehito’s writhing embrace with unfamiliar trepidation.
No one…no one had ever made him cum like that before…
Not even her.
But the magnitude of her achievement was seemingly lost on the failing ninja, who waved and lolled in place like a crumpled doll. The light of defiance in her eyes had been extinguished, and they began to sink, heavy and hooded with demonic intoxication, until with a mewling sigh they closed altogether.
The last thing she remembered was the smug, twisted look on the bastard’s face as a cascade of white, glistening cum spilled out of her clenching pussy to drip down the Oni’s engorged shaft. What she she did not see was a growing look of concern, and flash of burning jealousy, from Lady Yoko.