Kiku
By Timberwolf  www.cyberpass.net/~timber
A female samurai is betrayed


"Bring me the head of Kiku Youmira, ... attached to her beautiful body, 
... alive, ... and unharmed." 

The Shogun growled his orders and Umako couldn't believe what he heard.  
He knew that any hesitation would result in his instant death but that 
he had almost no chance for success.  He had just been ordered to 
capture the most famous woman warrior in all Japan.  She had killed more 
than a hundred men in combat and was responsible for the loss of the 
great battle for the Mino province.  Only two days ago the commander of 
that battle had slit his belly on the very spot he was kneeling.  If he 
failed, the same fate awaited him. 

A squad of forty samurai was hand picked for the mission and set out at 
a jogging pace up the Nakasendo road to Mino.  Along the banks of Lake 
Biwa they planned their strategy and stopped only for a minimum of food 
and rest.  They arrived in the small town where spies told him Kiku was 
living on the evening of the third day.  

Kiku couldn't sleep and rolled fitfully on her futon.  She looked over 
at the naked breasts of the young woman sleeping peacefully beside her 
and admired the calm relaxed look on her face.  Mariko was one of her 
best students and had become her constant companion and lover.  For a 
long time she watched the young woman's chest rise and fall with her 
rhythmic breathing.  When she reached over to stroke one of the 
beautiful breasts, the young woman stirred and murmured in her sleep.  

"God, it must be wonderful to be that relaxed and at peace with the 
world," she thought.  Since her victory in the battle for Mino, she had 
become a strategic asset in the struggle for power that wracked Japan.  
She could never be sure who her allies were or who would betray her.  It 
was so complex, full of treachery and intrigue that she never knew when 
an arrow would come out of the night and claim her life.  Exhausted, she 
finally fell into a deep sleep. 

Less than an hour before dawn, Umako's men struck.  A single sentry was 
nodding near the door where Kiku's guards were sleeping.  Creeping up 
from behind, Umako slit her throat and then held her struggling body to 
keep her from sounding an alarm.  He could feel her small firm breasts 
through the thin silk of her kimono and realized she was just a young 
girl of maybe seventeen or eighteen.  When the small body finally went 
limp in his arms, he let her slide to the ground and looked at her 
beautiful innocent face.  "Why do women want to be warriors?  He asked 
himself as he watched thick blood ooze from the gash in her throat.  She 
should be home with her mother, not lying here dead." 

The men slipped quietly into the room where twenty women warriors were 
sleeping.  It was a hot night and most were lying naked or in simple 
loincloths.  Each samurai took a position near one of the women and on a 
signal either slit her throat or plunged his dagger into her heart.  He 
then held the thrashing body down and stifled her cries until she lay 
still. 

Five samurai broke into the room where Kiku and Mariko were sleeping.  
The young woman awoke first and drew her sword to attack.  She was 
rewarded with a lightning thrust between her breasts and dropped to her 
knees spitting blood.  Kiku awoke to see her fall and felt the hands of 
four men restraining her.  She wanted to reach out and comfort her 
stricken lover but all she could do was look into the young woman's 
frightened eyes until they glazed over and took on the fixed stare of 
death. 

Kiku was bound carefully but securely with silk ribbons, tight enough to 
restrain her but not so tight it would leave marks on her skin.  As she 
was carried through the room where her personal guards slept, she looked 
in horror at the bloody corpses.  

Outside a litter waited for the journey back to Kyoto.  Litters were 
used for private transportation and consisted of an enclosed chair with 
poles so four men could carry it.  She was tied securely inside and the 
men took off on the run.  Ten samurai ran ahead to avoid an ambush and 
the rest surrounded the litter on the journey south.  

Just at dawn on the third day the litter arrived at Kyoto.  Huge outer 
gates of the palace wall swung open and the squad of samurai jogged 
through to safety.  They proceeded up a ramp to a second set of gates 
and the inner wall of the palace.  Beyond this lay a third set of guards 
and a gate to the Shogun's private residence.  By now Kiku realized 
there was no escape and whatever fate had in store for her had been 
decided.  Umako untied the silk ribbons binding her and she stumbled to 
her feet. 

She was filthy and exhausted from the trip and Umako directed his maids 
to feed her and clean her up.  She began by stripping off her clothes 
and stepping into a waiting tub of steaming water.  Scalding water stung 
her skin and she allowed the maids to scrub every inch of her long 
voluptuous body.  When they finished she stood and they rubbed her down 
with coarse linen towels.  

Rako had been a maid in the royal household all her life but had never 
seen a woman like Kiku.  Standing at least a foot taller than the other 
women, she had a firm smooth body and long slender legs.  The maid 
marveled at broad shoulders and bulging thighs honed through long years 
of practice with the sword.  She could feel herself becoming aroused as 
her hands moved over the other woman's body.  Kiku felt the maid's 
trembling and smiled inwardly.  She took pride in her body and trained 
rigorously to maintain herself.    

After the rubdown, she lay on a futon while one of the skilled maids 
administered a deep body massage.  Skilled hands kneaded cramped muscles 
and manipulated stiff joints.  As she relaxed, her mind started to clear 
of the horrors from the last three days.  

A pure white silk kimono was brought and two of the maids set about 
combing out and styling her long dark hair.  When they finished pinning 
it up in the traditional style, they added a fragrant garland of 
flowers.  A meal of rice and green tea appeared and the fusuma or paper 
doors were opened to reveal an intricately manicured water garden.  

Kiku smiled at the beauty of the scene and found herself absorbed by the 
harmony of the falling water.  She sipped cha and thought back years ago 
to a brief liaison with a serious young samurai.  She knew that she 
would probably be dead within the hour but right now she was more at 
ease with the world than she had been in months. 

Soon two of the gray clad samurai arrived to accompany her to an 
audience with the Shogun.  It was a short walk to the gravel courtyard 
where he was seated on a low platform in full ceremonial armor.  As they 
approached, he just sat among his aids and stared impassively. 

Kiku looked glorious in her shining white kimono and walked with a 
strong purposeful stride.  She stood taller than the men beside her but 
the clinging silk left no doubt she was a woman.  From the mounds of her 
firm high breasts to her slender waist and perfect hips she cut a 
stunning figure.  

Anyone approaching the Shogun was required to bow and kneel and 
disobedience would result in instant death.  Kiku waited until everyone 
else had knelt before bowing her head and dropping to her knees. 

White shoji screens were brought and set up behind the group.  When Kiku 
realized she would be required to commit seppuku or ritual suicide she 
decided to do it with dignity and style.  She stared defiantly into the 
cold eyes of the Shogun and pulled open her kimono exposing herself to 
the waist.  She ran her hands over the firm muscles of her abdomen and 
pulled her loincloth down until her soft dark pubic patch was exposed.  
She placed her hands on her naked thighs and waited for the silk ribbons 
to bind her legs and the short sword that would end her life.  

When one of the samurai stood and drew his sword Kiku realized in horror 
that she would not be permitted seppuku after all but would be executed 
like a common criminal.  In an act of defiance, she straightened her 
back and held her arms behind her the way criminals were bound for 
execution.  She held her head high and took a deep breath filling her 
lungs with the cool fresh air.  

Umako, kneeling with other members of the court couldn't help marveling 
at the beauty of the scene.  It was a bright clear morning with banners 
flying over the neatly raked white gravel of the familiar courtyard.  
White shoji screens were placed for privacy and provided a backdrop for 
the beautiful woman kneeling before them.  Kiku was nearly naked with 
her pure white silk kimono lying around her on the gravel like a cloud.  
Her magnificent breasts topped with firm dark nipples stood out on her 
expanded chest and contrasted with her slender waist.  He could see the 
outline of her ribs and her concave stomach flowing to the dark pubic 
patch between the swell of her thighs.  He was getting hard just 
thinking about what was about to happen. 

Kiku's eyes drifted up from the expressionless face of the Shogun to the 
ornately carved beams of the palace.  Perfectly shaped hundred year old 
oak trees had been selected and cut for each piece.  Master woodcarvers 
had devoted their lives to the perfection and harmony of the design.  
She was suddenly aware of the sun on her face and the cool breeze.  She 
could hear the flap of the banners, the chirping of birds, the swish of 
a sword.... 

The headless torso pitched back reflexively.  Unbound legs thrashed on 
the gravel as Kiku's pounding heart pumped spurts of blood from severed 
arteries.  Her entire body was wracked with spasms and rolled first on 
one side and then the other.  When her death throes subsided and her 
long slender body finally lay still, there was complete silence in the 
courtyard. 

Umako could feel his balls throbbing as he looked over the woman's body.  
She was now completely nude and lay with one leg stretched out and the 
other tucked under the first.  Her hips were rotated and he traced the 
line of her long slender thighs past her dark pubic patch to her concave 
stomach and the crease of her navel.  Her firm breasts still stood out 
on her beautiful chest and her arms were stretched out on the gravel.  
The curve of her shoulders ended in the bloody stump that once was her 
long slender neck.  Her beautiful head lay on its side where it had 
fallen. 

More shoji screens were brought and placed to surround the body.  The 
Shogun stood and walked into the privacy of the enclosure.   Kneeling 
before the severed head, he picked it up and caressed the soft cheeks of 
the woman he lusted for.  He smelled the fragrance of the garland in her 
hair and kissed her bloody lips.  There was a small wooden platform with 
an iron spike provided and he carefully placed the severed head on it.  
With loving care he closed her eyes and composed her features. 

Arranging the corpse on the ground he picked up her hands and admired 
the long slender fingers that once gripped a sword with such deadly 
precision.  He cupped her lush breasts in his hands and marveled at her 
soft femininity.  He could feel the firm smooth muscles of her stomach 
and the hollow of her navel.  Gently spreading her legs, he stroked the 
soft moistness between her thighs.  

Kneeling between her shapely legs, he lifted her hips to meet his 
throbbing erection.  The firm lean body of the warrior excited him far 
more than the soft pudgy women in his court.  As his orgasm grew he 
thought about what she must have been like in life.  What a pity to kill 
something this beautiful!  He knew she was his sworn enemy and would 
have killed him in a second if she had the chance.  As his noble seed 
exploded deep into the lifeless corpse he thought about what might have 
been were they allies.  Before leaving he covered her nakedness with the 
pure white silk kimono. 

The next day at Kiku Youmira's funeral pyre, the Shogun walked forward 
and tossed a single perfect white blossom into the flames.  Some say 
they could see a tear in his eye. 

Timberwolf