Long Hair finally got his nerves under control. He looked around, trying to figure out where to go next. He heard a sound of splashing water. It came from beyond the canopy of the trees.
He started moving before the exact nature of the sound had registered. His fatigue vanished. He wove through a stand of trees, and another. Surrounded by the unchanging scenery, he lost sense of time and distance.
A bright patch appeared in the woods before him. Long Hair checked his speed and ducked behind a thicket. He carefully peeked out. Blue water still as a mirror. A small lake. But the sense of privacy—that this all belonged to somebody—chilled his blood. Somebody else was there.
Or rather, its owner was. There was a young woman in the middle of the lake. Only her head was visible above the surface of the water. Her countenance was quite beautiful. His face reflected in her eyes, eyes that drew him into their black depths.
Transfixed, Long Hair stepped out from the shadow of the trees.
The young woman slowly rose from the water, exposing her shoulders and then her breasts. The clear cascade of water swirled across her generously endowed chest like a glass snake. The bold magnificence of her narrow waist and the lovely lines of her hips must have come into existence when God applied brush to canvas.
Her luxurious black hair coiled around her breasts. She was exposed down to her abdomen, and then all the way down to the dark valley between her legs. But wasn’t she in the middle of the lake?
“Welcome,” said the girl, now standing on the water.
She spoke in Chinese. A native speaker might have recognized the ancient origins of her words.
Staggering forward by his reflexes alone, Long Hair knew that her invitation wasn’t for him alone. More men appeared from the surrounding woods. He wasn’t the first to be summoned to this world. And they were hard-edged vagabonds like himself.
They looked stoned. In the young woman’s searching eyes flickered the fire of prey on the prowl. Long Hair noticed that all of the men bore small scars on their necks, but his higher reasoning ability had abandoned him the second she had exposed herself to view.
The girl walked lightly across the water, skipping toward the shore shrouded in a miasma of lust. Fish swam beneath the blue surface, but the water only touched the soles of her feet.
She reached the shore and said, without pausing in her stride, “Come with me.”
Chapter Three
The men trailed senselessly after the white, naked body, like a troupe of marionettes jerked along by invisible strings.
They clambered down the trackless path. The thick, tangled roots in their way hardly slowed them down. After ten minutes, they emerged in a garden-like clearing in the woods. The surrounding trees were much lower than those in the towering forest.
Deeper in, directly opposite from where they’d entered, was the first sign of a man-made structure. A soaring rock wall made from rectangular blocks of stone. The wall apparently ran along a long-forgotten boundary line, but the blocks were so tightly stacked together that not even a razor blade would fit between them.
The aura about the place suggested to Long Hair that the wall was as old as the dense, primeval forest. And yet the wall looked as smooth as if the stones had been recently quarried. Time was in chaos here.
He caught an unusual scent in the wind. The smell of cured meat.
“Behold.” The girl raised her arms and gestured at the groves around her.
Long Hair and the other men sluggishly looked in the direction she was pointing. Pink lumps wiggled on the branches of the trees over their heads, soft and flabby like gigantic silk worms, or perhaps ox livers with two eyes attached. They clung to the trunks of the trees and squirmed beneath their feet.
Far from finding it all disgusting, the mouths of the vagrants watered like small waterfalls.
The pungent smell stinging their noses came from these creatures. The vagrants looked at the girl, strings of drool hanging from their mouths, knowing that the stink of blood and meat must mask more appealing flavors. Their crazed eyes said that if she tried their patience any further, they’d jump her instead.
She returned their collective gaze with her own look of patronizing disdain, and nodded her chin. The men pounced upon the wallowing, repulsive, squirming creatures.
They became human-shaped monsters and sank their teeth into the marshmallow-like tissues. They tore away at the fleshly substance and gulped it down, savoring the indescribable texture and aroma. They didn’t wonder why the creatures didn’t budge an inch. Skin and meat gave way with a pleasing resistance in the jaw, but not a drop of blood on the tongue.
The insides were the same as the outsides. The creatures were simply living meat. The sound of biting and chewing and gobbling filled the sunlit air.
“It is called shirou,” the girl scoffed in a low voice. “Seeing meat. Common as dandelions on Kunlun Mountain.” She knelt down and picked up a gourd lying in green grass. “This is huangjiu, yellow wine.”
She removed the small stopper in one end. A mellow bouquet filled the air, the scent of an ancient alcoholic drink. It blended with the smell of the shirou. This combination of new aromas brought the men chomping down on the shirou to a sudden standstill.
They stared at the gourd in the girl’s hand, not bothering to wipe their mouths. A second later they were kicking and pawing at the ground and howling like wild animals.
The gourd sailed out of the girl’s hand and landed a dozen yards away in the grass. The men scrambled after it on all fours. The winner of the race grabbed it and filled his mouth from the narrow spout. The rest shoved him aside and struggled for the vegetative vessel.
The muddy booze adhered like glue to their slobbering mouths. A single drop oozing down their throats was enough to send them into a perversely mad frenzy.
They all arose together, dropped their trousers, and stood there proud and tall. All their burning desire was concentrated and congealed in one place. Uninhibited carnality flashed from their eyes, focusing like red-hot laser beams on the grassy spot in front of them.
The girl leaned back, stark naked, against the thick trunk of a mulberry tree. She raised her left knee almost to the vertical. The way she covered her privates and her breasts with her hands smoldered with sensuality.
The black hair pushed up around the hand between her legs. Her other hand pressed firmly against her bountiful breasts. The bud of the nipple poked provocatively between her fingers like a cherry.
But more than that—more than anything else about her—like the rarest of seductresses, the cherubic glow on her face remained fixed in the senses while the supple ripeness of her nude body aroused in men their most carnal desires.
Exposing their lower extremities, they advanced on the female lying there in the grass. The more their foul bodies smoldered with depravity, the more intensely her body responded.
One chewed on her sakura lips. She opened her mouth, inviting his tongue and fluids. She gurgled and gulped it down. He soon dried out. But others, salivating in torrents like lovestruck dogs, poured more and more down her throat. Until she gagged and the flood spilled out of her mouth.
They attacked her breasts. One suckled the rock-hard nipple of her right. Another tried to stuff his mouth with the hot flesh of her left. Tongues trailed along her belly and thighs, diving into her sex. Mouths nibbled at her toes.
Their copious spittle covered her skin until the body cushioned in the green grass glistened slippery and slimy.
The men knelt in a half-circle around her, their erections sticking out like fat wooden coat hooks. She lunged at the first, taking him into her mouth, lapping and sucking, the wet sounds filling the hushed clearing.
She applied her tongue with a vigorous artistry. The man lasted barely three seconds. He pumped with all his might, filling her mouth. And still had more left to give. She wrung him out, took everything he had, and swallowed every last drop.
The remaining men thrust their hips forward, hope
glittering in their eyes.
The girl shifted her position, grabbing the erections on either side of her. The man in the middle moved forward. Working both hands hard, she plunged down on his rod. It looked as if her lips had fused onto his cock.
The man bowed his body back wordlessly, coming and losing his vigor simultaneously. The fluid traced a parabola through the air and splashed against her mouth. The sight pushed the other two to their limits. The girl anticipated this, tightening her hands and increasing the oscillating action.
Two creamy lines squirted across her throat and right cheek. She let go, panting, and smeared the thick viscous liquid across her face and breasts.
Like they were performing a dance routine, the men turned a hundred and eighty degrees and stuck their stained, ulcerated backsides in her besmeared face. And she commenced licking their asses.
One by one she wrapped her arms around their waists and grabbed their erections. Squeezing and stroking with an unbelievably amorous dexterity, she brought them quickly back to life.
A man circled around behind her and made ready to mount her.
But in the last moment before penetration, a peal of laughter shot through the grove, shattering the mood like a rock thrown through plate glass.
One person there could imagine the face of the woman by the sound of her voice. What manner of portrait would she paint in that moment—a thousand-year-old hag or a matchless beauty with a face to shame an endless field of morning glories?
The girl on the grass dimmed like a fading lamp. The bright laughter robbed her even of her own sense of presence.
The men stared in stupefaction at the source of the laughter, at the top of the rock wall. The woman was bathed in light. Not sunlight but more like the wind fanning an ember into a white hot spark. Whenever a breeze touched her, her body sparkled like gold.
The sight of pure beauty froze them where they stood. Having beheld her, they could never use the word “beauty” to so describe another woman again.
The woman said, “Emperor Jie taught her well back during the Hsia Dynasty. He called it the Sumptuous Feast.” She bent her lips into a smile.
According to the tales and rumors that have filtered down through the ages since that time, the Sumptuous Feasts conducted by Emperor Jie featured a pond lined with pure white sand and filled with wine. Around the pond were great platters of meat. Stands of trees were fashioned out of venison and jerky. Three thousand pretty young men and women danced to musical accompaniment.
In the midst of it all, Emperor Jie floated on a boat in the wine lake with Moxi, his favorite concubine, as they indulged their lusts.
But the real repasts that decorated the scene were the shirou, the “living food” that drew breath from the earth to constantly regenerate their bodies. And the huangjiu, whose intense and unequaled fragrance intoxicated the senses as much as consuming a Yellow River of wine.
And a single girl engaging an army of men with her naked body.
In which case, who was this “beautiful princess,” this “Biki” watching so intensely from the wall, her eyes glittering with fire?
A moment later, Biki stood on level ground. She’d stepped off the twenty-foot wall as easily as stepping off a footstool. The apparent weightlessness of her body did not reach the startled thoughts of these men.
Her black hair, combed back and held by a glittering blue sapphire hairpin that amplified its luxuriousness, turned the white rays of the sun to dusk. Her striped, single-layer silk kimono fluttered in the ceaseless breeze. It moved with an airy mesmerizing freedom, maintaining a single, steady rhythm.
Any human being would have felt compelled to bow before the glowing elegance and beauty that was Biki. But only bestial cravings darkened the faces of the befuddled men. Her entire being radiated sexual desire.
With each step, the cut of the kimono revealed the exact outlines of her thighs. The exact shape of her ass. The heft and dimension of her swaying breasts. Every inch covered with cloth, yet the parts taken altogether projected an exact image into the imagination, bringing the men to rigid attention, to the very point of release.
“Shuuran,” Biki said. “I haven’t seen them before. Did you summon these men here?”
The naked girl called Shuuran kowtowed into the shape of a small rock in the grass. Hammered down and pummeled by forces of a completely different scope and scale, she was reduced to the picture of a cowering, simpering child.
Biki flashed a brilliant smile. “Well, well. In that case, vagrants off the teeming streets of Qin, Zong and Ming. Not to mention Yin and Zhou. But of course, gather them by the thousands and more will find reasons to make merry than to mourn. But so long as Kikiou has his say, their summoning shall be left to him alone.”
She paused. “Shuuran, have you received your punishment?”
“Yes.” The voice rising from the green grass was no louder than the buzz of a mosquito. “A thousand lashes with a branch of thorns.”
Biki glanced down at the girl’s unmarred skin. She turned her cold, unforgiving eyes on the men standing there as if rooted to the ground.
“But Kikiou happens not to be in at the moment. He is a man as faithful to my commands as a horse. He is hunting down the servants that will serve us best, as he should. However, Shuuran, I will remain true to our history, to the ways of life that brought us this far.”
The girl’s body trembled slightly. She was agreeing with all her might, mind and strength.
“Which is why I cannot allow this. Even if I condoned their summoning, I will not allow them to stand before me.”
Biki stood before one of the vagrants. Her right hand traced an arc through the air from right to left. At first, it seemed nothing more than a slap on the face. The speed and strength were no more than that.
The man’s throat popped like a cork. A splat landed on a nearby tree trunk. The man stood there and gawked. He didn’t understand what had just happened to him.
Half of his throat had disappeared.
As if finally coming to its senses, the blood gushed into the gaping red hole. The rest of his neck was plastered against the tree trunk. It slid slowly down the bark, leaving a maroon trail behind. The man slowly knelt down along with it. Big tears brimmed up in his eyes. His hands touched his missing throat and he realized what else would soon be leaving him, and he shook his head sadly.
Knowing that this was the end, with a look of resignation on his face, he closed his eyes and toppled over.
The woman watched, then proceeded to the next man. The chunks of flesh disturbed the grass and low-lying branches. Finally, she came to the end of the line.
She faced the long-haired man and looked down at his right hand. “A newcomer? There are no scars on his neck.”
“Yes.”
“What is this curious object in his hand? It appears to be a weapon. Shuuran, show me how it works. No. I have a better idea. Try it out on yourself. Couple with this filthy man while you do so. A new kind of intercourse I haven’t seen in a while. Here. Now.”
“Yes.”
An outrageous reply to an outrageous command. But Biki and the girl were connected by the absolute cords of master and servant. Shuuran stood and approached Long Hair with an ease that belied the preceding terrors. Such was the power of any order spoken by Biki.
“Use that thing on me.”
The girl spoke in words he couldn’t possibly understand, but Long Hair lifted up the cattle prod. He’d abandoned all sense and logic from the moment he’d looked upon her. Now his eyes shone with a terrifying light, filling with animal lusts aroused from the deepest, darkest parts of the instinctual self.
Blue electric sparks jumped between them. The girl writhed in agony. A faint column of purple smoke rose up, along with the smell of scorched skin.
She erased the look of twisted agony and cupped her young, pert breasts. The swell of the left breast was partially blackened like a half moon. The girl’s face and chest were covered with semen. A grotes
que and titillating sight.
“More—more—this one too.” Shuuran pushed forward the unscarred breast. The sultry look on her face arose from the depths of her soul.
Long Hair pressed the button once again.
“Ahh—” she cried, arching her back.
She grabbed his cock with both hands, her body smoldering as she toyed with him. Long Hair thrust his hips forward as he screwed the cattle prod into her chest.
Her breasts melted and incandesced. Yet pleasure twisted her countenance, not pain. She played with his erection with the skill of a virtuoso flutist, the already unbelievable level of her licentiousness only increasing.
The man’s mouth dripped as if eyeing a banquet. This squealing girl servicing him was a rare pleasure indeed.
The cattle prod sparked. The fire touched her hips. She moaned. It touched her thighs. She screamed. Her neck sputtered with flames. At last, she pushed her hands back through her hair and turned and gave her sculpted back and tight ass to him.
It was a splendid ass. A delicious ass.
“Hurry—” she panted.
With an indecipherable exclamation, Long Hair jabbed the cattle prod. Her back burst into flames. The muscles of her buttocks popped. A sweet smell arose. Human meat or cattle, it was all the same underneath, and the girl had a nicely marbled flank.
“Ahh—ahh—” Shuuran screamed, shaking her ass.
Her pussy was soaking wet, dripping down onto the grass. With his free hand he grabbed her around the waist and penetrated her, plunging all the way in.
She tightened around him, massaging him inside her. Her muscled walls flexed and twisted, secreting its natural lubricants, with each constriction rubbing and sucking him in deeper.
The man roared, on the verge of coming. But not yet. He growled and slammed the cattle prod against her back.
The girl’s body convulsed and clamped around his erection. Long Hair closed his eyes and ejaculated. It took several long seconds until he was satisfied. Smelling a savory fragrance, Long Hair opened his eyes.
Yashakiden: The Demon Princess, Volume 1 Page 11