A Samurai’s Punishment

Literotic asexstories – A Samurai’s Punishment by karina_jayde,karina_jayde
Unlike some of my other work, this is a relatively short, more sex-focused standalone story. I wanted to try out writing some femdom and BDSM stuff from the perspective of a male character, as that’s something I haven’t really done before. Note that while this is set in a sort of vague/generic setting inspired by feudal Japan, this is not at all intended to be a historically accurate rendition. I just found that the relationship between a samurai and his liege to be an interesting dynamic to explore from a BDSM perspective.

***

My fellow disgraced samurai and I stood upon the road leading up the mountain to Oka Castle. As a boy, I had stared at the elegant roofs and battlements in wonder, dreaming of one day serving as a samurai within that hallowed fortress. As a young man, I had trained within its courtyards and had defended it from the forces of Lord Araya.

And now I returned to that castle in disgrace, having failed Lord Oka when he’d needed me most. My liege was dead, cut down in the night by barbarian assassins the night before the great battle on the coast. Though we had avenged him and had thrown the invaders back into the churning sea, the shame persisted.

Vengeance had not erased our failure.

The only way to achieve some semblance of atonement was to throw myself at the feet of Lord Oka’s heir.

“This is foolish, Reizo,” said Shuji, one of the other dishonored samurai who had ridden with me to the castle. “Lady Ikumi Oka will need to show strength and cruelty to display her power: she will make an example of us.”

“Two days ago, I heard you talk a courtesan into giving you a discount because you were riding to face an honorable death at the hands of your new liege,” I growled, my eyes not leaving the imposing gates of the fortress that would serve as my grave. “Now that there are no whores to woo, it seems your honor has fled.”

“That was idle chatter, my friend. Foolish talk. Not quite as foolish as the notion of you striding in there and offering Lady Oka your head.” He patted my shoulder; I flinched, half-tempted to strike him. “My cousin says there is plenty of work for ronin in Asai province. Lots of bandits and pirates to hunt. You can restore your honor with the blood of criminals.”

“We would be but a step above such criminals,” I said, still glaring at the castle gates.

“We need not be petty mercenaries,” said Koshiro, the third member of our dishonored little band. He was an older samurai who had a family of his own, so I judged his hesitation far less harshly than I did Shuji’s. “The new Lord Araya is said to be a far more honorable man than his grandfather. A far more worthy employer. And he is in need of warriors. Good pay. Proper work. There is honor to be found there.”

“Given the bad blood between Clans Oka and Araya, I very much doubt that,” I grumbled. “The new Lord Araya is just as likely to kill us as Lady Oka is. At least here, we can die with our honor restored.”

Both of the others sighed.

“I cannot do this,” Koshiro said. “I only rode all this way with you to see if I could persuade you otherwise.”

“Walk your own path, old friend,” I said with a warm smile at the kindly old samurai who’d been like an uncle to me. “Hunt bandits, bow to Lord Araya, or stride into this castle to meet our fate head-on. The same goes for you, Shuji,” I said, my smile fading as I glanced at the younger warrior. “I will not attempt to sway you. Nor can you sway me.”

“If you insist on marching in there to die,” Shuji grumbled. “Just…don’t tell them that we’re close by. At least give us a head start before Lady Oka’s vengeful samurai come for us.”

“As you wish, Shuji. My dishonor is my own. You walk your path, I shall walk mine.”

Shuji sighed and withdrew a bottle of sake from his pack and offered it to me. With a shrug, I took one last drink, wrinkled my nose at the foul taste; Shuji had poor taste in both liquor and women. After Koshiro gave me a brief embrace, the other warriors turned their horses around and I rode alone up the path towards the gates.

Four men in the black and red armor of the Oka clan stood watch, spears and bows at the ready. My own armor was wrapped and bound within my saddlebags; given my disgrace, I no longer possessed the will to wear it.

I dismounted and announced myself.

“I am a former samurai to Lord Oka. I am here to present myself to Lady Ikumi Oka, so she may decide my fate.”

One of the guards leaned forward.

“Reizo?”

I did not recognize the man, but I gave a nod.

“What took you so long? Lord Oka died a month ago.”

“I spent several weeks scouring the shores for surviving invaders, in the hopes of reclaiming some semblance of honor.”

One of the guards let out a soft chuckle.

“I daresay you did, Reizo. The other soldiers and samurai who returned told of your bravery. A dozen invaders dead, piled high around Lord Oka’s body. They say you used Lord Oka’s own blade to kill two demons conjured by the invaders’ witches.”

I had killed four of the barbarian assassins in Lord Oka’s presence, and there had certainly been no demons at the battle. Some of the invaders, though, had fought fiercely enough that they might as well have been otherworldly beasts.

“Lord Oka perished under my watch. This is why I have returned to face his successor’s justice. If she wills it.”

“A waste, if you ask me,” said the soldier who’d recognized me. “But very well.”

The gates opened into the flower-lined courtyard of the great castle. Dozens of young samurai trained with wooden swords under the stern eyes of Kenko, the seasoned brute who had trained me and Shuji. I prayed he did not notice my arrival; I feared such an encounter almost as much as I did the prospect of facing Lord Oka’s successor.

Thankfully the grizzled samurai was too focused on berating the new recruits to pay me any mind. The sentry led me up the steps and into the castle’s central tower. He sent a servant to inform Lady Oka of my arrival and then he turned towards me, grinning.

“What was it like?” he asked, his voice brimming with eager delight.

“The battle? Horrific. All of Lord Oka’s other wars and clashes paled in comparison to the carnage of a single day upon that beach.”

“I still regret that I was not there alongside you. Broke my damned ankle falling off a horse, so I missed the muster.”

“Banish that regret, my friend. Rejoice that you instead stood guard faithfully here.”

He wrinkled his nose and a delicate young woman entered the foyer. She wore an immaculate silk kimono in the colors of Clan Oka, with her face painted white, and her black hair pulled into a tight, immaculate bun. Like most other noble handmaidens and castle servants, she kept her eyes downcast in the presence of a samurai. Given my disgrace, she needn’t have paid me such deference.

“Follow me, please,” she said in a soft whisper.

Gritting my teeth, I followed the handmaiden through the castle I had once bled to protect, through the home that had belonged to my liege. A home that Lord Oka would never see again, due to my failure.

Rather than lead me to the main hall where Lord Oka had usually received his guests, the handmaiden instead showed me to the gardens within the rear courtyard of the castle. Birds flitted between colorful flowers; cherry blossoms flowed gently in the wind. Water bubbled from a few springs scattered through the garden.

A lone woman knelt beside the water, inscribing something upon a scroll. Like the handmaiden, she was thin and delicate, with pale skin adorned with white makeup upon her face and splashes of red on her cheeks. She wore a black kimono decorated with intricate depictions of foxes and serpents. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, with ruby-studded pins holding back the sleek dark locks.

She turned her cold dark eyes towards me and raised a thin, immaculately-groomed eyebrow.

“Yua,” she said in a low, icy tone to the handmaiden. “Who is this muddy, sweaty man you have brought into my presence?”

I fell to my knees, pressing my forehead to the dirt.

“I am Reizo, my lady. Once the sworn sword of your uncle. I failed him and so I have returned here to face your judgment.”

“‘Failed him,'” she repeated. “There is already a poet in my court composing a poem about my uncle’s death. I believe he was going to include a line or two about you. His metaphor of choice was something about a ‘gray-flecked black wolf’ who avenged the mighty lord. Raise your gaze, Reizo.”

I did so, my dark, unwavering eyes boring into hers. There was a gleam of amusement in her stare, as if she was not a woman who held the power of life and death over me. Lady Ikumi could have commanded me to tear open my guts before her very eyes and I’d have done so. She could have commanded me to swim to the mainland to kill as many barbarians as I could, and I would complied without question.

And yet she instead seemed on the precipice of making a joke.

“‘Gray-flecked black wolf.’ Yes. An apt metaphor,” she said.

I did indeed have streaks of gray through my long, unkempt black hair, even though I was only a few years past thirty. The stress of the war against the barbarians seemed to have aged me by at least a decade.

“Wolves are dirty and wild things, too, making the metaphor even more apt. Yua: see to it this man has a bath. A thorough one. If I am to decide his fate, I will not do it while distracted by the stench of the road.”

Yua murmured with obeisance and led me back into the castle. Baffled by that interaction, I kept silent as the handmaiden showed me to another spring ensconced deep within the fortress.

Several towels and soaps awaited me. I had not had a proper bath since setting out to war. It took considerable effort to wipe away the grime, mud, sweat, and dirt from my body. There was even a bit of dried blood clinging to my forearm, a reminder of a quick but bloody fight against some bandits who had ambushed us on the journey home.

Even when I was finished, I knew I would look the part of a wild wolf given my hair and thick layer of stubble. The handmaiden returned, bearing a fresh change of clothes: the black and red robes of a proper samurai of Clan Oka. My limbs trembled with self-loathing as I donned them, for I had left behind my own robe back at the battlefield, ashamed by the blood of my lord that had stained the fine fabric. Ever since, I’d just worn threadbare peasant’s garb that had grown dirty and frayed during the long journey back.

When we returned to the garden, Lady Oka had finished writing in her scroll and was tending to the weeds growing up around the roots of one of the cherry trees.

Once more I prostrated myself, pressing my head to the dirt.

“What is it you hoped for in coming here?” Lady Ikumi asked as Yua bowed and departed.

“An end to my shame, no matter the cost.”

“And how, precisely, would you wish for that shame to end?”

“In whatever fashion my liege requires.”

The young woman let out a long sigh.

“My uncle spoke your praises, in the few times that I actually saw him. I can see why you got along so well: you’re just as damnably stubborn as he was.”

I allowed myself the faintest of smiles at that. Indeed, my liege had been a notoriously headstrong man. It was one of the reasons why I had adored him so much, as he always insisted on doing the right thing no matter the cost.

“Raise your gaze,” Ikumi said.

I lifted up my head, remaining upon my knees as she continued to tend to the weeds.

“Be honest with me, Reizo. If you could pick the outcome of this path, what would it be? Suicide? Exile?”

My brow furrowed. The whole point of my journey had been to throw myself at my new liege’s feet, as honor demanded. My fate was not mine to decide.

“My lady, I-”

With a growl, she tossed aside the weeds she’d collected and stalked over to me with surprising speed. After crouching down before me, her thin, delicate fingers grasped my chin.

I shuddered at that fierce touch, but did not shirk away.

“Tell me, Reizo. Select your perfect outcome. Do not choose what you would do in my shoes, nor what my uncle would have done. Choose whatyou would want me to do.”

“I do not-”

Ikumi let out another growl, rose to her feet, and balled her hands into fists.

“I would strike you, but a self-loathing samurai like you would probably rejoice at the pain.”

“My lady, I am no samurai. Not after your uncle’s death. I am ronin, and-”

Ikumi’s thin fingers took a firm hold of my gray-flecked hair and yanked my head backwards, forcing me to gaze up at the woman who could command my death if she wished it.

“Choose, Reizo,” she hissed in my face, her perfume wafting over me. “Do you just want todie?”

As I stared into her dark, angry eyes I caught something else. A warm gleam that went beyond just fury.

No. I was seeing things.

“I want to serve. I want to fight. If I need to return to my duties as a simple guard or sentry, I would gladly do so. Through work and effort, I will prove my value once again.”

“You want to spend years on dull, boring guard duty. Wandering up and down the battlements all night, staring out into darkness. A peasant could do that.”

With one hand still gripping my hair, the other reached down, grasped my wrist, and turned my hand over to exposes the scars and callouses upon my palm and fingers.

“The hands of a killer. The hands of a man who has already avenged his lord. And you wish to play sentry?”

Her hand tightened within my hair. Sparks erupted along the lines of pain unleashed by that grip. My thighs trembled.

“Choose, Reizo. I know that may be a hard concept for an honor-blinded samurai. Choose.”

A shudder rippled through me.

“I want the honor of wearing Clan Oka armor again. I want to stand at your side in battle or lead troops your troops into the fray. I want the blood of your enemies to stain my steel. I want your foes to shriek in terror at the sound of my name. I want my name to echo like thunder behind the lightning of Clan Oka. I want to kill, to fight, to serve…just as I did for your uncle.”

With every word, the fire and strength within me grew as I imagined myself once more shedding blood in Clan Oka’s name.

“Finally,” she snapped, releasing my hair and taking a step back. “Words with some fire and iron within them.”

During the confrontation, a few strands of hair had slipped out of her bun and she put them back into place.

“It would be a waste to exile a man of your skill. An even greater waste to demand your suicide. I will not cast aside such talents. Not when I have such need of them.”

“‘Need’, my lady?” I asked, frowning. “Who assails Clan Oka?”

“Nobody yet. But Lord Araya has been quite insistent with his marriage offers and I worry that my continued refusals could lead to greater tensions. It is unusual for a woman to ascend to rule over a clan; though my uncle did me a great favor by publicly naming me as his successor before he marched to war, this will still not be an easy transition.”

“And I will be honored to stand at your side, my lady. Against the Araya clan. Against whomever else doubts your right to rule.”

That fiery gleam returned to her eyes and she took another step back.

“And yet…I cannot help but feel that I must temper my mercy with judgment.”

“Name your punishment and I shall embrace it.”

A few weeks in exile or a time of penitent service at a monastery. Perhaps even a flogging or some other sort of painful punishment. Whatever the cost.

“I shall think upon it. For now, I shall have Yua show you to the guest quarters. After my council meeting, I shall summon you once more for judgment.”

Somehow it actually feltright that I was about to receive some sort of punishment or discipline for my failure. To simply return to my status as an honored bodyguard would have been too easy, too simple.

I’d have felt shame and regret for the rest of my days if my path to redemption did not at least contain a few thorns.

**

After I stepped inside the amply-furnished guest quarters, Yua let out a soft cough from out in the hall. I turned; she remained just beyond the doorway, eyes downcast.

“A word of warning,” she said softly. “I have an inkling of what sort of punishment Lady Oka intends to visit upon you.”

She glanced up and down the hall, as if to check if anyone was listening.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Was her talk of restoring me to service some sort of cruel ruse?”

“No, not at all. Ikumi, is…” She cleared her throat again. “I mean,Lady Oka is an honorable woman. She will not order your exile or suicide and she will keep to her word. But the punishment she alluded to is perhaps of a different nature than you were expecting.”

“How so?”

Even through the makeup adorning her face, I saw red blossom upon her cheeks.

“I have said too much. Forgive me.”

The handmaiden scampered off. Nearly as baffled by Yua’s behavior as I’d been by Ikumi’s, I sighed and slipped back into my room, settling into a series of meditative poses to relax and focus for the coming meeting.

A few hours later, Yua returned, offering not a single word or warning as she led me up the stairs. To my surprise, she took me to the residential wing instead of the gardens or council chambers.

We passed by several guards and other handmaidens, none of whom paid us any mind.

Soon we reached a large set of sliding doors; candlelight flickered up and down the hall. Yua bowed her head.

“Wait here until you are summoned.” She sighed. “Good luck.”

With that, she scampered off down the hall. Still utterly baffled, I fell into another meditative pose before the doors, remaining still and silent for another ten minutes before Lady Ikumi Oka’s cold voice sliced through the air.

“Enter.”

After a deep breath I stepped inside, expecting to see a few other samurai waiting for me, perhaps with clubs or whips to unleash some sort of brutal penance upon my flesh.

Instead, Ikumi knelt in front of a scroll, dabbing a brush in ink before adding a few more strokes to the page. She wore the same kimono she’d worn during our first meeting, though she’d let down her hair and had tied it into a single long braid, adorned with ruby-studded pins.

Despite my circumstances, I couldn’t help but take in a sharp breath at her beauty. During my meditation, it had taken some effort to dispel the lustful thoughts that had been ignited by the way she’d clutched at my chin and hair.

“I noticed a bit of trepidation in Yua’s voice when she served me tea not long after she showed you to your quarters. Did something happen?” she asked, not looking up from her work.

I had no desire to shame myself further with a lie.

“Yes, my lady. She tried to warn me about the nature of the punishment you had in mind, but she offered no specifics.”

“Such a kind, delicate thing. I wonder, though, if she offered that warning, knowing full well that she in turn would be punished as well.”

“I do not think she deserves that, my lady. She spoke your praises, assuring me that you would keep to your word and-”

When she rose and turned around, I realized that she had not fully fastened her kimono: much of her upper chest was exposed, the pale skin gleaming in the candlelight.

She crossed the room towards me. Though I towered over her, I couldn’t help but feel small beneath that stern glare of hers.

Once more those soft fingers reached out and took me by the chin.

“When I clutched you like this in the garden, I saw something. A need. Do not lie to me, Reizo. Was my perception correct?”

I did not nod, out of fear that doing so would force her fingers from me.

“Yes, my lady. A flash of instinct, nothing more.”

“Nothing more? What a shame.”

Her hand fell away.

“My lady, I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t, you handsome fool,” she said with a snort and a dismissive wave as she settled back in front of the scroll. “I thought I detected genuine lust in your eyes back in the garden. Noting your foolish need to be punished, I thought of a punishment that would be enjoyable, in a way, for the both of us. But it seems you have no desire for that.”

She waved her hand once again.

“You are dismissed.”

I understood a great many things about the world: the best way to maintain a katana, how to ride a horse into battle, how to command archers during a night raid. But matters of lust were as mysterious as the depths of the sea. I’d enjoyed lovers before, of course, mostly courtesans or the handmaidens of Lord Oka’s wife. But not once had I ever been in a predicament quite like this one.

Trapped in such thoughts and frozen by indecision, I remained where I stood.

“I said that you were dismissed,” she hissed, glaring over her shoulder at me just as I was about to take a step towards the door. “Or need I punish you for disobedience as well?”

Again I caught that gleam in her eye.

Ah. Another part of the game.

For a moment, my mind warred between the two paths. The simpler option would be to walk away, to take solace in her mercy and to resume service as a samurai. And yet…she was right about my need to be punished. And my own lusts had not been sated in some time.

So why not satisfy two desires at once?

“I submit to your punishment, my lady,” I said, dropping to my knees and pressing my forehead to the floor.

A low, raspy laugh filled the bedchamber.

“Good.”

After crossing the room on swift and silent feet, she gripped my hair and forced my head up. I stared at her, eyes wide, feeling small and weak before her, even though I knew I had the strength to easily hurt her if I wanted to.

That knowledge somehow made my submission all the more thrilling. The nerves of my neck crackled with anticipation as she stared down at me.

“You need to understand, Reizo, that you are mine. Not just as a samurai. Tonight, your body and soul are a canvas and I am an artist. You will do as I say, when I say it. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Of course, I understand you desire such punishment, so that will all be part of the game. But I have broken men stronger than you, so do not think yourself invincible to my touch.”

“I understand.”

She chuckled and tenderly ran her fingers through my hair.

“I do not think you do. Not yet. But by dawn, Reizo, I will have opened your eyes to a new world. Now stand. And disrobe.”

With a soft breath I rose to my feet and made short work of my sandals, kimono, and undergarments. Her domineering touch and cruel words had already rendered me fully hard. My liege circled around me like a hungry predator, examining the muscles of my body.

“I was mistaken,” she murmured. “I said that I had broken men stronger than you…but after seeing every inch of you, that may have been a premature boast.”

Ice sliced through my veins as her fingers trailed down my spine.

“You are perhaps the most remarkable canvas I’ve yet had the pleasure of working with.”

She paused in front of me and gripped my chin again.

“Do you have limits?”

“I…I honestly don’t know.”

“What is the most debauched and depraved thing a woman has ever done to you, then?”

“Before we set out to fight the invaders, we visited a brothel. One woman used her mouth upon my manhood, while the other…” I frowned, very nearly blushing at the notion of sharing that intimate detail with my new liege. “Used her tongue and fingers upon my rear.”

“Daring,” she chuckled, continuing to circle around me. “And did you like that?”

“Not at first. But once I was warmed up a little, it felt…like nothing else. A violation and an intrusion that set me afire.”

“Good to know, Reizo. And what is the most debauched and depraved thing you have ever done to a woman?”

“During the negotiations with the Araya clan I…had a brief relationship with one of Lady Araya’s handmaidens. She let me tie her up. Wanted me to ‘use her,’ as she put it.”

“And did you enjoy that?” she murmured, her fingers now trailing over the hard lines of my tense arms.

I nearly shuddered at the memories of those soft legs wrapped around my waist, of the desperation in the woman’s limbs as she fought against the ropes, of the way her head thrashed as I used her, and the wild need in her voice.

And most of all, I recalled my own searing envy.

“Yes. But there was somethingwrong about it. An awkwardness. Because the entire time, even as she moaned and writhed for me, I wondered what it would be like to be in her place. To surrender. To yield. Such concepts are unthinkable for a samurai, which I think was why they were so enticing.”

“That honesty is a good thing, Reizo. Facing your feelings and giving voice to them is the best way to truly grasp your desires.”

My body tensed as her delicate fingers traced the muscles of my back.

“Before we begin, Reizo, you must also understand that this is but a game. A game that you can forfeit at any time. And so that is all that you must say: that you forfeit. And I will stop. There is no dishonor in it, no shame. Your position at my court is secure regardless.”

I nodded, trembling a little at the thought of what exactly she might unleash upon me.

“Excellent, Reizo. Now I will teach you the joy of submission and surrender. That it is not a thing to be feared.”

She brought her lips to my chest, kissing softly. Each gentle kiss ignited a gasp or a shiver.

“But another rule, before we begin. Tonight, you must refer to me as ‘mistress’ or ‘my lady.'” She then raised a finger. “With one exception. At your moment of climax, should I choose to grant you such bliss, you must use my given name. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

Ikumi tapped my lips.

“Say it.”

“I understand…” I swallowed. “Mistress.”

The word flowed out naturally, as if I’d been forged to say it.

“Good. Lay down upon the bed.”

My limbs moved, guided by her words and not my own will. I sank down onto the comfortable bedding as my mistress moved to a basket on the far side of the room. She had not given me any other instructions, including whether or not to look at her, so I kept my gaze affixed to the ceiling.

Ikumi returned to the bed, wrapping hempen rope around my wrists and then my ankles. She gave each knot a gentle little tug. The sensation was…soothing. Comforting. I relaxed with a deep breath. Her fingers brushed over the side of my neck as she let out a breathy chuckle. The faintest scrape of her nails drew forth a long, needy moan.

“Good,” she cooed. “Deep breaths. Relax. Embrace it.”

I recalled all of my hours spent in meditative poses, and sank into the same relaxed mental void that I would use to center myself before battle.

After all, was this not another sort of battle?

Ikumi knelt down on the bed beside me, still dressed in her fine silken robe. The fabric brushed against my thigh and I shuddered. Her fingers tilted my head to meet her hungry gaze.

“Your need burns bright,” she said, her voice soft and elegant, as if she were reciting a poem.

“It does, mistress.”

Those fingers turned cruel, the nails raking over the side of my neck, down my chest, and over my stomach. The touch turned soft and gentle as she took hold of my aching shaft. My eyes rolled back into my head, my back arching, my limbs straining against the bonds as she began with slow, smooth, and perfectly controlled strokes.

I could scarcely recall a lover who could have drawn forth such a desperate moan with so simple a touch.

“Your body is mine, Reizo. Which means you must not climax until I command it.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“No matter how fiery your need, no matter how intense the pleasure, you must hold back.”

I could only manage a weak, frantic nod, unable to speak on account of the fire ignited by those soft, skilled fingers that maintained perfect control over me.

Her fingers quickened. Within a minute, a few droplets of pre-cum had dripped from my cock. Her grin widened at the sight of it; she smeared it over my twitching shaft, the mess allowing her to quicken her strokes.

I gritted my teeth and tried to sink once more into the meditative void.

A miserable, utter failure; another stroke from that skilled hand tore me back to the present moment.

I truly was but a canvas, and she was the artist.

“You are close now,” she purred. “I can tell.”

She rested a hand over my heart, which thudded as fiercely as a blacksmith’s hammer within my chest.

“Do not surrender to that desire just yet. Hold, Reizo. Hold.”

I tried to imagine her as a commander on the battlefield, giving a stern command to hold the line against a charging enemy horde. The notion helped restore a bit more of my willpower. The ache continued to spread, albeit at a slower pace, though my heart raced and my lungs still burned. My fingers dug deep into my palms but the stab of pain against my skin did nothing to keep the tide of agonizing bliss at bay.

And then she inflicted the greatest cruelty upon me yet.

She stopped.

Her hand still clung loosely to my shaft, but the sudden loss of those gentle strokes drew forth an agonized sob. She laughed softly and I bucked my hips off the bed, hoping to urge her to continue.

Instead she withdrew her hand entirely, leaving me bereft, moaning, and bucking.

With her hungry eyes locked with mine, she licked the pearly droplets she’d collected upon her fingers.

“Well done,” she said, her other hand brushing through my hair. “You passed the first test. The easiest one. And now for the second.”

As soon as I saw her shift a bit further down the bed, I knew I was doomed. Her braid brushed against my thigh and that fleeting sensation was enough to unleash my loudest moan yet.

And when her soft, delicate mouth closed around the crown of my twitching shaft, I nearly lost control then and there. My cry shattered into a weak sob as her lips enveloped me and her delicate tongue teased the underside of the tip. Her dark eyes flitted up towards me, absorbing my frenzied, desperate reactions.

There was no way I could last. I would fail her.

I flinched as if struck, snarled, and bit down on my inner lip.

No. I would survive. I would endure.

My fists curled up as I imagined holding the hilt of my sword. The thought of the familiar weight within my grasp gave me something to focus on, a sense of strength that kept the painful bliss at bay.

At least for a little while.

Perhaps sensing how well I was enduring her latest ‘punishment,’ Ikumi continued to suckle upon the crown of my cock, but used her hand to resume her strokes, rubbing me from the base of my shaft all the way up towards where her lips had trapped the tip. I grunted, then shifted my focus yet again, imagining a bow within my grasp and thinking through the steps of stringing the weapon, notching an arrow, and unleashing it at an enemy.

My breath steadied and my mind picked through every weapon I’d ever mastered. Though such mental rigors did not completely erase the wondrous sensations inflicted by her mouth and hand, I found an equilibrium of sorts. Still moaning and occasionally thrashing, I at least no longer felt like I would give in.

And yet once more, she deployed a new weapon.

Ikumi lifted her mouth and grinned at me.

“Another impressive showing. You’ve passed the second test. But one more remains. The final and most difficult.”

My mind raced, clinging to the other rituals of samurai life: the steps to donning armor, the procedures of saddling a horse, and even the intricacies of a tea ceremony before a battle.

I was certain that all of my defenses would crumble and yet I had to stand firm. If I was to fall, I would at least go down fighting.

Ikumi rose and moved to stand at the foot of the bed, her dark eyes staring directly at my moistened shaft. A flick of her fingers untied the sash holding up her kimono.

The silk fell in a soft whisper. I groaned at the sight of her nude body: slender, delicate, pale. Soft, dark nipples. Pert breasts that I longed to kiss and worship. Slender hips that begged to be caressed and gripped. Moisture clung to a thin patch of dark hair between her lithe legs.

She approached, looming over me, soft hands running up and down my thighs.

We both sighed as she straddled me, though she kept her dripping womanhood several inches away from my twitching shaft. I squirmed, even rocking upwards a few inches in a vain, foolish attempt to slip inside her. She laughed and pressed down against my hip, her nails digging deep.

Her other hand reached between her legs, soaking her fingers with her moisture. Ikumi raised her hand; the candlelight gleamed over her dripping fingers.

“See how wet you’ve made with me your obedience, Reizo,” she murmured, then brushed her fingers over my chest, smearing her essence upon me.

An anointing. A blessing. An honor.

After marking me with her dew, she gripped my throat and I leaned my head back a little, surrendering to her touch, moaning at the feel of her nails gently digging into my skin. The loss of control, the threat conveyed in that grasp…

Her other hand raked over my stomach before she took hold of my shaft. I whimpered at that faint, fleeing touch.

And soon I would experience so much more.

“Raise your gaze,” she growled.

Even as my eyes fluttered, I managed to obey, staring up at her.

“Beg.”

“Please, mistress,” I said, the words spilling forth a heartbeat after she’d spoken. “Allow me to fill you. To please you.”

“Such a dutiful samurai,” she murmured.

With those fiery words hanging in the air, she sank down upon me. Both of us cried out, though her cry was more triumphant, while mine was a weak, plaintive sound of submission and surrender. I arched my back as she easily took my entire length, my shaft twitching within her, my hips rising gently off the bed.

“Remain still,” she hissed. She placed one hand back against my throat, while the other reached between her legs, gently parting her folds and toying with herself.

I whimpered and sobbed, occasionally feeling the slightest hint of pressure as she squirmed her hips, tilting them backward and forward. But I knew this wasn’t about my pleasure: this was just about hers. I was a toy. A tool. Something to fill her sex while she toyed with herself.

That was all I was.

And I reveled in my role.

Her hips rocked a bit faster and her heavy breathing turned to a series of low, quiet, controlled little moans.

Through it all she stared down at me, grinning like a hungry beast that had claimed its prey.

Oh, how joyous it was to be hunted.

At the sound of her loudest moan yet, I couldn’t help but thrust off the bed against her.

The glare she gave was fierce enough to force a gasp from me. Her hand left my throat, which caused me to offer a pained moan, for I longed for her harsh touch against my skin.

I soon endured another harsh touch when she slapped me across the face.

I cried out at the joyful shock of that slight burst of pain. Of course, I’d suffered far worse pains during my life, but the sting still rippled from my cheek and down through my neck.

“I told you to hold still,” she snapped. “Consider this your one warning. Move again without my command and I will roll off of you and finish myself without the aid of your cock. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Good,” she said, her voice shifting to a warm, gentle tone as she gently rubbed at the skin she’d slapped, then gripped my throat again.

My mind grasped at the tricks that had saved me before. I focused on siege tactics, thinking through the best ways to defend or assail the castle. Focusing on such a task allowed me to center myself, to keep my hips still, and to steady my breathing.

And yet the ache deep in my core continued to grow. My shaft twitched and I knew that if she had rocked her hips just a bit faster, I’d have succumbed within moments.

Her rising, quickening moans only made my struggle worse.

No.

I would endure.

I would survive.

I would triumph.

After a deep breath, I cast my mind to even more ambitious military scenarios, devising ways to besiege the capital city itself. Considering no samurai or lord had ever succeeded in such a task, the notion helped to distract me for a bit longer than my other mental evasions.

And yet even that effort failed. The skilled rocking of her hips, her rising moans…

I was helpless to resist such attacks.

“Mistress,” I said, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the roaring of my own breath, as if I could drown out the sounds of the young noblewoman’s enticing, soft little groans. “I am close. Please. Grant me a reprieve or-”

“Raise your gaze,” Ikumi snapped.

When I took a second too long to comply, she slapped me again. The impact forced my eyes to open and I shivered as I met her imperious, beautiful glare.

“I am close,” she said, her taunt broken by a single gentle moan. “And then I will have no more use for you and then you can spill yourself within me.”

I very nearly spurted within her at the sound of those words. I’d assumed she would finish me with her mouth or perhaps her hands, but to feel her sex clenching around me as I came…

Ikumi’s triumphant laugh rippled through the bedchamber.

“Are mere words enough to defeat you, samurai?”

“Almost, mistress,” I said. The effort of finding the right words helped to distract me, if only slightly. “Every sound from your lips is a blade carving through my armor, mistress.”

“Even as you are nearly broken, you have the soul of a poet,” Ikumi said, chuckling.

A sudden grunt broke through her mirth, followed by a whimper. Her hips rose and fell in a greater frenzy, her braid flailing from side to side as her head thrashed.

I was sorely tempted to thrust up into her, hoping that the additional sensations would set her off.

But I was a dutiful samurai.

I would obey.

I remained as still as I could, my toes curling, my hands clenching into tight, painful fists.

Ikumi’s hips slammed down one last time, and she made a single little circling movement. The hand around my neck tightened. Her back arched, creating one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen in my life: a slim, powerful woman, rendered nearly helpless by bliss and yet still perfectly in control. Those pert breasts heaved as she gasped for air. Her fingers strained against her sex as her nails dug deep into my neck.

After one last moan, the tension burst and her exultant cry flooded her bedchamber. I cried out right along with her, nearly overwhelmed by the chaos tearing through her body. My cry rose higher and higher as her hips began to move again, rocking up and down.

“Come,” she snarled through her storm of moans and soft cries. “Come for your mistress. I want every damned drop, samurai. And remember…” Her hand tightened around my neck. “I want to hear my name.”

Even though she had not yet commanded me to move, I finally lost control and bucked up against her, meeting those narrow hips with powerful thrusts of my own. If she disapproved, I saw no sign of it, but in that moment I couldn’t even care about her ire.

I uttered a wordless, almost bestial cry as my cock tensed, my seed bursting deep within her clenching womanhood. I strained against the ropes, lifting my shoulders from the bed in a futile attempt to raise myself upon to meet her lips. I flopped back down as another surge of agony rushed through my cock, my hips faltering, my heart racing, my hungry groans breaking down into weak little sobs.

“Ikumi,” I whimpered over the course of those last few pulses, my eyes rolling back as she rocked her hips down against me yet again.

The sparks of pleasure still flitted through my body, and my hips went still. My head lolled to the side, drool leaking from my lips, my eyes watering.

“Reizo,” she said, still working her hips against me, her voice dropping to a low, ominous snarl. “You disobeyed me again. I told you to hold still.”

“I apologize, mistress,” I murmured, looking up at her through the haze of moisture gripping my vision. “I…I will gladly submit to whatever other punishment you deem fit.”