Turning to face Angela, Saya revealed the rest of herself. Swaying seductively, she took the comb out of her hair, and darkness fell down over her shoulders, partially hiding her breast. She acted coy for a moment, shy, yet her eyes were breathing fire. I own them now.
“Do you like it?” she said. “It took almost a year to complete.” Speaking timidly, and then changing to an assertive tone, she said, “I think it is beautiful, and it gives me power.”
“Come here and lie next to me,” whispered Angela. “I want you, and if you behave, I’ll share my man with you. I’ve seen you looking at him.”
“And at you too!” she responded.
Angela lifted Jason’s head. “Why don’t you try her? You know I take both sugar and cream in my coffee,” she said, smiling at him. Pulling Saya down to them, she said, “Here, take her from behind so she faces me, and I can share her as well.”
Saya followed Angela’s instructions, enjoying being submissive. Jason also found himself liking being instructed; surrendering himself to Angela. Giving away control was new.
As Jason mounted Saya from behind, Angela brought Saya’s lips to her breasts. “Do you like them?”
“You’re very beautiful,” she responded.
Jason embraced Saya. He entered her, and she began to moan, growling as he moved. Her sounds became the fulcrum of desire as he continued deeper. She cried out in Mandarin, “Oh my God, what is this? I have never…” Jason allowed himself to swell within her. Angela pushed her head down between her thighs. “Me, Saya! Me!” Saya’s tongue entered her and sought magic spots. Angela began to twist and sigh.
Jason continued thrusting into Saya’s body. He read every response while he explored her needs. Pain! She has a dark side. She craves agony, more with every breath. His movements grew more fervent, more invading, more violent.
He felt her hands reaching for him. Saya, fighting for breath, gasped, “I want it here, now. Put yourself here…” as she grabbed him and steered his penis upward.
From across the table there were calls from Silvia and Rachel. “Yes! Put it in her ass, Jason! We want to hear her scream!”
“Yes,” cried Angela. “Make her moan for me.”
As Jason entered, he heard Saya sigh. “Oh my God. I love it. It hurts! But… I love it! Please, don’t stop!”
Jason sensed her growing exhilaration but became concerned. He could see how blinding the rapture was to her. He questioned if he should stop, but the moment drove him forward. I might be causing damage to her body… She would die rather than have me stop. He paused, but continued, loving the sensations, pulled into the swirling anarchy of the lust. Then, reluctantly, he said, “No, we must stop! I am hurting you.”
“Oh no! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” she wailed as he tore into her. “I love it. Harder, I want more! I can take it! More, please more!” she cried. Jason tried to stop, but the rush filled him. He drove forward, pounding into her again and again. Caught within the undertow of ecstasy, the act was swallowing him, but then, despite the pleasure, and ignoring her begging, he stopped. Saya curled up into a ball of pain and collapsed into a fetal position, exhausted but filled with elation. Pain rose from within her as her euphoria faded. Jason immediately sensed her body was in chaos and what remained was agony. Concerned, he used his powers to repair the damage while filling her system with numbing relief.
Saya, catching her breath, said softly, “I’m okay. I’m okay… I think? Oh God… It was so great.” She looked at him with a smile. “But I want more of this…”
As her words trailed, Jason responded, “You are much more than this.”
At that moment, he realized that it was possible for him to forget everything and lose control, to act without reason, to harm without intention. Still, what a remarkable experience! He had finally found something to fear. Yet, more importantly, he had found the being that had haunted his memories. “You’ll be fine,” he said to Saya. “I am here now…”
Drifting into sleep, she murmured, “Who are you?”
Soon, all of the women found themselves in a deep, opium-laden trance. Jason thought it best to encourage them to sleep so he could quietly slip away.
The night could not have been more eventful, and as the women drifted, Jason pondered all that had occurred as he passed through the wall and out into the street.
Mark is right. There is a pleasure to be found with humans, but I’ve found more than pleasure. I’ve found her.
Chapter 19: Saya Revealed
Before entering a life she called floating, Saya’s world was very different. Once she was known as Feiyan, born out of an illicit affair between a nobleman’s wife and a handsome young soldier in the service of her husband. She found herself cradled in the arms of her mother’s handmaiden, rushing through the woods towards the mountain temples. The devoted servant had sworn to deliver the child to the monks for protection even if it cost her life. With unending purpose, she placed the infant on the steps of the Henan Shaolin Monastery near the Shaoshi Mountains. A simple note pinned to a blanket read: I am a bird at your window seeking shelter from the wind.
It was not long after she succeeded that a guard’s pursuing arrow found her heart. The monks embraced the child, for the stars had foretold the coming of a great master. It was 1945, the year of the Rooster. She was to be called Feiyan or Flying Swallow. Her arrival was seen as a new dawn for the monastery, hope for the salvation of the clan. The Americans had just defeated the Japanese, and the monks had been sensing that some greatness was arriving in the world. Was it this child? Something else? They were not sure. However, the child was seen as a sign.
For the first three years of Feiyan’s life, the monks were concerned. She never cried, asked for food, or seemed to have any need for anyone. In fact, she walked about in her own world. When meals were presented to her, she ate quickly and then returned to her posture of quietude. She was always looking intensely at all that was going on around her but showed little reaction to it. Then on the fortieth month of her arrival, she started to talk, but not in baby chatter. From the start, she spoke fluently, and with ease. To their astonishment, she asked if she could join the Kung Fu practice.
The Henan Monastery was the birthplace of dragon style Kung Fu. Its movements imitated the actions of wild creatures. The gestures mimicked insects and birds as they parried, jumped, clawed, and stung. This particular style had been developed by the great Shaolin nun Ni Mui in the 17th century with the purpose of giving women the ability to overcome stronger and more powerful opponents. The movements were meticulously adjusted, creating a style of lithe, speedy maneuvers and deathly blows. The secrets of the art never left the monastery.
It was soon acknowledged by the elders that Feiyan was a blessed child, different from the others. In keeping with this, she began receiving a more severe regiment than the other novices. If a child was disciplined with a blow from the master, Feiyan received three blows for the same infraction. In the mornings, she was forced to run twice the distance, with a master beating her with a stick as she battled through the rugged terrain. From the start, she was trained on upturned logs to develop balance. Later, she practiced movements and was made to recite poetry while jumping from one floating log to another. She was always beaten severely if she fell. Not only was she taught the skills of battle but also the music within every gesture. For her, nothing was too harsh, nothing beyond her grasp; for Feiyan was to become an artist, a warrior priestess… the chosen one.
Soon she was granted her own Dragon Mistress, the head female monk in the monastery. Her mentor instilled in her the power of mind over body. She developed the ability to transform what the body feels through the powers of thought. It was then that Feiyan developed the mantra she called “absorption and transformation.” She changed pain into pleasure. Every blow, every strike began to taste like honey, and she learned how it was possible to love pain.
I will make my body like water; nothing will break it. All pain will flow th
rough me as the river flows through my fingers. The pleasure of the stream will bring the coolness to my hands, and I will be content. My mind will make me free, and my power will overcome the most brutal. Her movements began to flow through the air like the musical notes of the erhu that her Mistress played as she practiced. She developed her abilities to function as instinct. She could anticipate any attack. All blows intended for her body were either parried or avoided. She became a ghost in combat; it was almost as if her body did not exist to her adversaries until the power from her blows crushed them.
By the age of 14, Feiyan could defeat any student in the temple, even males five years her senior. The monks were forced to train her against multiple opponents since no single student, neither male nor female, could approach her skill. Her power terrified the temple students as much as it inspired awe. When her mentor unexpectedly died, Feiyan was about to be appointed the youngest master in the history of the temple. Jealousy was not absent within the minds of the other young monks in training. The whispers started to fill the halls, and enemies arose amongst the less talented. Feiyan would overhear plots of poisons and darts. Danger was coming. Left without the protection of her mentor, she fled the temple with the body of a teenager and the soul of a child.
She wandered the streets of Hong Kong for some time. Not knowing how else to survive, she begged. But both her naivety of the streets and of her nascent womanly allure attracted notice. Gang boys followed her. On a cold night amongst the garbage bins and the rats, she laid waste to four young men who had tried to take her in the night. In a matter of seconds, she left one dead, one paralyzed, and the other two broken and limping. The ferocity of her attack was fast and furious, for no person other than Mistress Dragon had ever been given permission to enter the intimacy of her thoughts, much less touch her body. Her actions did not go unnoticed, and immediately she found herself in even greater danger from gang members in the streets. A local shopkeeper let her hide in his storage room in exchange for cleaning, but he too was growing fearful, when an unexpected answer arrived.
The wife of a Japanese silk trader who was visiting the city heard of Feiyan’s exploits and her plight from a servant, for chatter moved quickly in the marketplace. Mistress Kaya, as she was known, was beautiful, cunning, and in need of protection. She had been the most famous geisha in Kyoto before her marriage, known in all the society courts of Japan. While relations had grown warmer towards the Japanese since the war, there was still much hatred lurking in dark places. Mistress Kaya understood that the streets of China were still a dangerous place for any Japanese woman. She was often left alone when her husband did his dealings with the merchants in rural villages. When she heard of this girl’s prowess, she wondered if she could be the answer. The silk trader’s wife needed a bodyguard.
If she could travel with me unnoticed and could skillfully protect me, or wield death if called upon, she would make the perfect companion. Little did they know what a gem she had found amongst the fish and the howling pigs of the market stands; Feiyan’s abilities were far beyond all imagination. For her loyalty, Mistress Kaya and her husband gave Feiyan an escape. And it was with these two strangers from an unknown land that Feiyan found her way to Shiga, Japan, the birthplace of the ninja.
In returning home, the silk trader’s wife enrolled her in training at a ninja dojo. Mistress Kaya decided that Feiyan must enter her world fully, so she gave her the name Saya and had her instructed in the Japanese way. Feiyan accepted her name as well this new life earnestly. She was to become Japanese. Then she could blend into the culture and live unnoticed as her bodyguard, and if need be, an assassin.
The ninja techniques were different and interesting to Saya. In the beginning, she did not fully understand what her role would be in the service of Mistress Kaya, but as time went by, she knew that she was expected to do whatever was asked. As her devotion to her mistress grew, obedience became her sole task, and she consented.
Saya quickly mastered the language and all levels of ninja training. Her abilities transcended anything the dojo had seen. She learned the stealthy secrets of their poisons and the deadliness of their weapons. Then, she learned the ninja code of killing obediently and without remorse when asked to by one’s master. Saya was very impressed by the quality of the Japanese swords and quickly became an expert. As time passed, she was increasingly called upon to deliver messages, often of terror, sometimes of pain, to anyone who threatened her beloved adopted family.
She remained in training for two years and was often rewarded with trips alongside Mistress Kaya exploring the Japanese countryside, enjoying the pleasures of Japan and other faraway lands. Although she never grew close to Master Yoto, she loved Mistress Kaya, who was but a few years her senior. Saya would protect her person and her secrets, standing outside her door when she would steal away for a rendezvous with lovers. She would die to protect her Mistress and once killed a man whom she perceived as a threat without orders or permission. Her devotion was without limits, but actions such as these were not received well. Master Yoto was angered by what he saw as precocious and volatile behavior. He forbade her from violence unless explicitly ordered.
Saya had reached her seventeenth year and still had no knowledge of sex. Mistress Kaya thought this unnatural and provided her with a lover. Saya was not given a choice in the matter and was ordered to welcome the experience. She was to choose from three young men at the dojo. She picked the oldest, a tall fair-skinned boy from a family of sword makers from the north, and she said to Mistress Kaya, “He has tender eyes and a straight back.” She did not enjoy him at first but later grew to like sex with him, although she felt little in the way of emotion. Mistress Kaya did not want her to become too attached to the young man, so after two months, she instructed Saya that she must pick another. This ritual repeated itself for four consecutive lovers over the next several months.
Mistress Kaya, whose desires welcomed diversity, noticed that Saya would often be looking at the young maid who worked for them and asked her if she ever thought about the touch of a woman. Saya timidly smiled and said, “She has a warm smile.” This acknowledgement began her experience with the pleasures of the female sex.
Life was good for Saya in Japan. She learned to speak Japanese and also English and Russian, as she was sometimes called upon to carry out missions against the holders of those tongues. Mistress Kaya had opened up a world of pleasure to her into which she reclined happily. She was content.
One day her mistress asked her to deliver a message of terror to the leader of a clan in the next province. She was told she should not kill him but rather hurt him in a way he would not soon forget. The man was an ambitious lord who, in his desire for power, had begun ruthlessly killing the local merchants in his domain as a means of intimidation and for the purpose of extortion. One of the families was the sister of Mistress Kaya, and her sister and her husband along with their two children had fallen under this tyrant’s sword.
Saya had known them, had held their children in her arms, and welcomed the task. But when told she would not be allowed to take his life, she angered. It was explained to her as politics, and too complicated to fully articulate. As always, Saya took her orders as humbly as gospel but asked that she be allowed to decide the punishment herself. The permission was granted.
Disguised as a geisha, she traveled to the nearby province where she sought her target. Saya was introduced to the nobleman at a local geisha house, and with her beauty and grace easily lured him to a prearranged home on the outskirts of the city. As soon as she was given the opportunity, she injected him with poison, paralyzing him, leaving him speechless, but not shielding him from any pain. While he was fully conscious, she cut off his clothing, and with deliberation and care, she slowly started to saw.
She removed his left foot, her slow movements seeking agony with every stroke. “I will take this first,” she said, “for I hear it is the one you placed on the chest of my mistress’s sister before you took her life.�
� While his screams came forth, she read him the list of his brutal crimes. She spoke with a lyrical cadence, drumming out each crime with a beat. Saya felt a twinge of pleasure arise in her as she brought the blade down when she emphasized his crimes against women, dragging the saw more slowly as she spoke with glee. Next came the right foot as she called out the children’s names to him. The teeth of her blade tore at his open flesh.
She paused and repeated their names when she reached his bone, forcing down ever harder to find the most unbearable torture. “For Aya.” The teeth bit. “For Junko.” Smiling at him as she pushed, she looked into his eyes, communicating the pleasure she felt at her very core.
Saya giggled a childish giggle with each push of the blade and said, “There… isn’t that nice?” He tried to scream as she sprinkled each wound with powder that cauterized the open flesh. As his face grimaced in pain, a twinkle arose in her eye, and the sweetness in her voice playfully taunted him.
“Does the bite of my blade feel good, or do I go too fast? I wouldn’t want to deny you any pleasure.” She spoke softly, with delight. “I’ll go more slowly.” She hoped to prolong the pain. After his feet, she took his right hand, then his left.
“Oh, don’t cry,” she said as tears again flowed from his eyes. “You’ll have many years ahead for tears.” Next, she took his penis in her hand and said, “It is only for my thoughts of your wife that I do not take this as well as your tongue with me tonight, but let me never hear that you harm her again, or deny her any request or…” She paused and smiled and whispered in his ear, “I‘ll return, and I won’t show you the kindness I do now.”
Soteria- The Crisis Forge Page 12