Yuki Rising

Literotic asexstories – Yuki Rising by spudster56,spudster56
Lady Homoko’s breasts were round and heavy like succulent peaches plucked right at the edge between summer and autumn. Applying the ointment to the Lady’s silken skin Yuki hesitated just for a moment, her hand enjoying the firm roundness, the index finger brushing the small dark berry on top of the mound. Lady Homoko’s nipples always stood proud and made themselves visible even under the heavy silk of her favorite kimono. To Yuki, they were special among the wonders of her Lady’s body. There were the white, silken skin, her round, and even face, the perpetual smile that never reached the eyes. But even more wondrous were the areas special to Lord Shigeru and the Lady’s handmaiden. Between her legs a thick but orderly glade of black hair, the firm round buttocks, and of course these breasts. To Yuki, they were an endless source of fascination and even envy. So her hand lingered for just a moment and the Lady Homoko noticed.

Her eyes narrowed just slightly but enough for Yuki to take a step back and hold her breath.

“Do you desire what is your lord’s?”, Homoko asked. She was reclining in her chair, nude but for a glistening second skin of fragrant oil that Yuki was applying to her. She spread her legs as if in invitation. “Do you?”

Yuki felt the blood rushing to her face. She never had lain with a woman or a man. Was it lust she felt when she helped to bathe her Lady or any of the other concubines at Lord Shigeru’s Court? She didn’t know, wasn’t experienced enough but somehow realized it wasn’t the same she felt the time when she witnessed the Stablemaster having his way with one of his boys. The two shadowy figures pressing against a wall, buttocks gleaming as the Stablemaster’s rod slid in and out. Their groans and panting intermingling. It had made her feel hot and wet but also fearful. Whatever she felt with her Lady wasn’t like this at all.

“Well, you can’t have it.”, said Lady Homoko, taking Yuki’s silence for defiance. “Undress.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Undress or I have the servants do it for you.”

Confused and shaking Yuki loosed the sash of her Kimono and let it fall from her shoulders. Lady Homoko slid out of her chair and slowly paced around Yuki who stood stiff and erect, frightful of what would come next. Lady Homoko took hold of one of Yuki’s breasts and lifted it. Her breasts were so small they fit into the palm of even Lady Homoko’s delicate hand.

“You think I would waste myself on a creature as drab and ordinary as you?”, the Lady asked. “You are skinny and small, your mouth is too wide and the tits — well, you could easily pass for a boy.” Yuki stared straight ahead not daring to speak or even breathe. But as the Lady twisted her breast she cried out a little. Satisfied, Homoko got hold of Yuki’s jaw and turned her face so that she could stare into her eyes.

“Now listen closely, you sad thing.”, she whispered, every word cutting like a razor. “If you are very lucky some bombu peasant will marry you when he tires of fucking his sheep, but more likely you will end up a spinster servant. Today is my Lord’s reception and I have to look my best. Sadly there is nobody at court right now who has your skill in applying my makeup and while I am much inclined to toss you out into the streets for your insolence, I am giving you this last chance to stay in my good graces. Do you understand?”

Tears welling in her eyes, Yuki tried to nod, but Homoko’s grip was of iron. Finally, the Lady gave a cold smile and let her go. “Get dressed and finish your job.”

Lord Shigeru’s reception was a ritual of mystery. The first guests arrived days before the event and the whole household buzzed like a beehive. Every room was cleaned and cleaned again. The stone lanterns were lit at dusk and kept burning till dawn, lighting the path for the Samurai with their entourage, and Lord Shigeru welcomed each and every one of them personally on his porch before they were guided to their quarters. Yuki had no idea, what happened in the reception. No servants were allowed except for the Lord’s bodyguards and these kept their counsel even to the maids they lay with. All Yuki had seen were the marks that appeared on Lady Homoko’s skin the day after the reception. They were of an angry red, not unlike rope burns, and lingered for days before they began to fade. Still, in the days before the reception the Lady was neither anxious nor fearful. Instead, she blossomed like a flower in spring and became even more self-assured and arrogant. Any other time she might have forgiven Yuki’s misstep, but not before a reception. There was no doubt in Yuki’s mind, that her mistress would get rid of her as soon as she could. As she walked behind Lady Homoko along the covered passage, that connected the main house to the building especially build for the reception, Yuki pondered her future. She felt afraid but also lightheaded, like the poor fool from legend, spreading his arms as he jumped off the cliffs of Jade Mountain. Her fingers clasped the lacquer case containing the brushes and powders to fix her lady’s makeup should an emergency arise.

Two guards waited at the entrance, their swords exposed. They stepped aside when Lady Homoko reached the porch and she passed without acknowledging their presence. Yuki heard the clanking of their armor as they resumed their position. They entered a small vestibule with a curtain behind which lay the hall proper. Lady Homoko pointed to a narrow stool where Yuki settled, her knees on the hard floor, head bowed so the brow came to rest on the lacquer case. She only heard the rustling of the curtain when Lady Homoko passed through and left her alone with her thoughts. How would the Lady dismiss her? Would she give her a pouch of money and send her away with a letter of introduction to a future employer? Hardly. She would rip off her clothes and toss her to the streets to end her life as a prostitute. Then again — would the Lady allow a common whore the privilege of boasting knowledge of her and thus raise her meager fee? Cold sweat stained the lacquer case as she realized the likeliest option: that the Lady would order someone to cut Yuki’s throat. Maybe even one of the guards in front.

At this moment, Yuki decided to follow the fool’s example and jump. If her life was forfeit anyway why not resolve the mystery of the reception? It was a childish thought but the desire to know, what happened behind these curtains overwhelmed her. She felt her breath quickening and warmth filling the place between her legs. She was not long for this world but suddenly this didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered lay behind thick black drapes and the siren song calling her there grew stronger with every heartbeat. She got up, unheeding the lacquer case that slid across the floor. Slowly her hand stroked the curtain until it found the edge. Then, with one swift motion, she pulled the curtain open and slid between its dark, heavy folds.

The room behind was large, high, and — Yuki thanked the gods — dark. In the middle was a raised stage, round as a circle and as high as the knee of a horse. There was a throne at the edge of the stage and in the middle, lit only by the few paper lanterns hung around the room, crouched a nude figure. Around the stage sat the guests in their low chairs. Yuki could see that they had exchanged their samurai finery for simple kimonos. Right in front of her was a slight, bald man, oblivious of her presence. His robe was splayed open, revealing white flesh, a tuft of black curly hair, and his erect rod, which he stroked absentmindedly. Yuki shrank back at this sight but didn’t retreat from the room. Instead, she kept watching, cloaked in heavy drapes and darkness.

The woman on the stage looked vulnerable and exposed. Her skin shone white and her face was hidden by the wave of falling hair. It was Lady Homoko of course, and the big man sitting on the throne was her Lord, Shigeru. He was of middle age, his hair still black, his face smooth but for the two hard lines next to his mouth and the scar where a sword had split his right eyebrow. His eyes shone like black marbles and his lips twitched as he made the smallest of gestures with his index finger. Homoko could impossibly have seen it, but she rose immediately from her position, slowly, with the grace of a snake uncoiling. Her nakedness drew gasps from the audience and the man in front of Yuki started stroking harder.

There must have been rafters under the ceiling, hidden in the inky black, for suddenly ropes fell down, uncoiling like the tentacles of some hidden sea-beast. Two men mounted the stage from either side, their chests were bare and they wore masks with the grim faces of scowling demons. Homoko extended her arms, stretching those wondrous breasts.

Suddenly the sound of drums filled the room, a slow beat Yuki could feel rising from the soles of her feet up to her scalp. She craned her neck and found the source, another man with a demon mask standing in the opposite corner of the room, hitting a large drum with brightly painted sticks. This one wasn’t bare-chested but clothed in red robes and Yuki finally realized, that these were the monks that had arrived before the first guests. ‘Mad Monks’ the head cook called them. She had met some of them at an earlier time and refused to talk about it. But she constantly made the gesture to ward off evil when they appeared in the halls or even when someone only mentioned them. A serving girl claimed that the monks had tried to force themselves on her. Nobody believed her, they were monks after all. Nobody, that is, but the head cook.

The drumbeat became faster as the monks on the stage wrapped cords around Homoko’s wrists and knotted them, then continued with her upper arm. They knelt and tied her ankles and her thighs. They wrapped ropes around her upper body and breasts. The whole time she looked on, her face a mask, and made no move. Yuki’s breath had become shallow, her eyes fixed on Homoko’s glistening body, the single strand of hair that had fallen over her brow, her mouth a tight line, the edges slightly upturned as if in anticipation. Then, the drums stopped.

The Monks stepped from the stage back into the shadows and for a long moment Yuki thought, nothing happened. Then she saw the ropes tightening. Up in the rafters, someone was pulling them up, ever so slightly. Yuki saw Homoko tilt forward. Her arms were pulled up and away from her, her breasts swinging free as the ropes around her body tightened even more. Then the feet were pulled from the ground and she was floating, held by the ropes that kept pulling her until she came to rest in a horizontal position. The binding of the ropes was so intricate, that Homoko’s legs had been pulled apart, the knees bent, the soles of her feed facing up. Even from a distance, Yuki could see Homoko’s exposed sex glistening with anticipation.

The man in front of her gave a small gasp and stayed his hand, which still held his member in a tight grip. On the stage, Lord Shigeru rose from his throne. Slowly he walked around the hanging woman, checking the ropes and knots, stroking her skin. He came to stand right before her, grasped one of her hanging breasts, and squeezed it. There was a low murmur from the audience but no sound from Homoko. Even though Yuki couldn’t see her face she noticed a ripple running through the nude body.

Slowly Lord Shigeru opened his rope. He was a big man who had retained the muscles of his youth even when age had extended his waist and his rod stood erect. The drumbeat began anew as the Lord slowly walked around the hanging woman until he stood right behind her. With his index finger, he slowly traced the curve of her spine, skipping over the ropes, until it came to rest where the mounds of her buttocks joined. Then he drew it further down, pushing and dragging until it reached the folds of her sex. With expert care the finger entered the jade gate, exploring its depth. Still, Homoko remained silent just as the shivers running down her body became ever more violent.

When the lord pulled out his finger it glistened wet in the sparse light. He brought it up to his lips and tasted it like a fine wine. Satisfied he shrugged off his robe, placed a firm hand on each of Homoko’s buttocks, spread them apart and entered her. The drum struck a hard beat and followed the movement of the Lord’s hips with uncanny precision as he kept pumping. Yuki felt as if she had intruded on a ritual she didn’t understand. It was sacred and blasphemous at the same time, as perverted as it was exciting. Yuki felt her head spin as the drumbeat took up speed in time with the Lord’s pushes. The heat between her legs kept growing and she felt her juice on her thighs. The man in front of her writhed and moaned, his hand franticly stroking his rod, the first traces of the coming eruption glistening on its tip. Yuki couldn’t help but follow his example, her hand furiously working her folds.

Suddenly the drum beat a final time, loud as a thunderclap. As through a red fog, Yuki saw the muscles on the Lord’s back violently contract, then relax. In the following stillness, there was just one sound, a perfect “Oh” of release.

Yuki forced herself to calm, down and wiped her dripping hand on the drapes of the curtain when she noticed, that every face in the room except Homoko’s was staring at her. For it was Yuki, not the bound woman, that had made her pleasure heard.

Yuki knew she was a dead woman, had known it the moment Lady Homoko had noticed her desire. She didn’t try to run and offered no resistance when the masked priests grabbed her and dragged her to the stage where her Lord was waiting. Lady Homoko, still hanging in the ropes, her Lord’s seed dripping out of her to the stage, finally managed to get a glimpse of Yuki. At any other time, her shocked expression would have made Yuki giggle, but now she didn’t even notice. She was in the netherworld where demons brought her before the Hell Lord to bring his sentence upon her head. She was a dead woman and nothing she did would change that. Lord Shigeru studied her, more puzzled than angry. He made a gesture and the monks started to rip apart Yuki’s Kimono. She felt cold air on her skin and the eyes of the spectators. But she didn’t even try to cover herself. After all, for a dead woman modesty was of no concern. She didn’t even lower her eyes but held her Lord’s gaze — an insult, that would have gotten her killed any other day. But now she was already dead and Lord Shigeru, naked before her, bared his teeth in a grin at her defiance. Suddenly her hand tore from the grasp of the monk at her side and, as if of its own volition, took hold of the Lord’s testicles. A gasp came from the audience and the monk next to her scrambled to get hold of her hand, but the Lord jerked his head to the side and he relented. The challenge was accepted. They felt like walnuts in Yuki’s hand, warm and firm, as she slowly began to press, pull and squeeze. The Lord’s rod began to rise as Yuki sank to her knees to meet it. The head was soft and warm on her lips and she felt Lord Shigeru shiver as it slid into her mouth and her teeth grazed it ever so slightly. She tasted her Lord’s seed and Lady Homoko as she took more and more of his manhood into her mouth, her tongue playing and teasing. She felt him shudder and continued, even when her nose touched his curly hair and the temptation to gag became overwhelming. Then there was a hand grasping her neck, but instead of pulling her away, it edged her on and she squeezed the testicles, which she still held a final time. Warm seed exploded in her mouth and she held it there while slowly disengaging, pulling back, and finally letting go.

Lord Shigeru pulled her up gently by the shoulders. Again their eyes locked and again Yuki’s gaze stayed firm. She was a dead woman and yet alive, she was the fool who jumped off the cliff, his arms flapping but soaring to the heavens. She refused to yield to the challenge. There was a flash of irritation on her Lord’s face, maybe even anger, but then he smiled. It was a short smile, knowing and sarcastic. Slowly he took one knee and the audience as well as Yuki gasped, when his tongue began exploring her navel, then traveled down into the thicket of her hair. Lord Shigeru knew what he was doing. The tip of his tongue pierced the drapes of Yuki’s sex and pushed in deep, roaming her cavities and stroking the arousable places within her. After all the excitement it didn’t take much to bring her over the edge and Yuki bellowed her release in a yell that ended in a satisfied sigh.

Then her Lord stood next to her, holding her hand and someone draped a kimono over her shoulder. It was heavy and made of exquisite silk. Only belatedly and with shock realized Yuki that it belonged to Lady Homoko. As Lord Shigeru led her from the stage the hanging woman shrieked with anger, writhing in her bonds. Yuki turned her head and their eyes met. Homoko’s eyes were black with hate, her hair was in disarray and her bound breasts had turned a dark shade of blue. Yuki gave a sign to the audience. There was a moment of hesitation, but after a short nod by Lord Shigeru, they eagerly took the stage, shedding their robes. Homoko was still cursing and shrieking as Yuki and Shigeru left the room and the men began to have their way with her.