The Blazing Tempest

DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime/manga Samurai 7. Original copyright of Samurai 7 belongs to Akira Kurosawa, Shinobu Hashimoto, Hideo Oguni, MICO, GDH, GONZO. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.


THE BLAZING TEMPEST
By Rory V. Pascual (Edited by Saiyukihana)
© Original Version 2001; Samurai 7 Version June 18, 2006


Chapter Two

The cock had yet to crow, but the harem was already alive with a flurry of activity as the caravan made preparations for its departure.

A light sleeper, Shichiroji had woken immediately to the sound of neighing horses in the courtyard. Swiftly donning traveling clothes, he grabbed his pack and opened the door to find Masamune standing outside, about to knock. With him was a stern-faced Indian with piercing black eyes.

"This is the Amanushi's trusted adviser, Tessai," Masamune introduced him.

Tessai pressed his two palms before his chest in the traditional greeting of his homeland and bowed. "We came to awaken you, but I see that you are ready." The Indian was pleased with Shichiroji's preparedness. "Forgive me if I was not here to welcome you upon your arrival last night. I went to the Palace to get my lord's instructions for this journey. I shall brief you on the way."

Smiling, the Samurai replied, "Thank you. I need to know what the Amanushi's plans for this journey are. I have crossed the Sahara many times, but it would help to know if we shall be facing any dangers along the way."

"And you shall get your answers later on."

Nodding, Shichiroji invited, "For now, let's inspect the caravan, shall we?"

In the next two hours, Gorobei joined Shichiroji, as Tessai and Masamune went to see to the Amanushi's precious whore. Under their watchful eye and stern command, the servants loaded the camels with supplies, covering them with thick canvas as protection from sandstorms that they might encounter in the desert. All of the camels had water skins secured to their saddles, and the moor made certain that none of the casks had any leaks. Shichiroji, on the other hand, inspected all the horses, making sure that their fittings were not too tight as to cause them discomfort during the long journey. The only comfortable means of transport that they have was a special carriage, which was allotted to the Amanushi's precious concubine, but Shichiroji doubted if it would get through the trek without its wheels ending up buried in the sand.

The Warrior was about to check the carriage anyway when the sound of weeping caught his ears.

Noting Shichiroji's curious frown, Gorobei remarked, "The Sultan's wives and mistresses... They weep over my Master's departure this morn."

"They love him that much?" the Samurai asked in surprise.

"More than you know," the moor answered cryptically.

Suddenly, Masamune appeared at the side door. "The Sultan!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "He's here!"

"Go on!" Gorobei urged the Warrior. "I will take care of things here."

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Shichiroji hurried into the harem, with Masamune at his heels.

Entering the receiving chamber, they beheld Tessai on his hands and knees, bowing before the regal form of the Sultan. After giving obeisance to this Moslem king, Tessai stood, eyes still lowered to the floor and stepped to the side.

Then, Shinno himself came forward. The whoremaster was dressed all in black once more, his face covered by the silk tail of his turban. His whole form was in the proper reverential position. However, before he could kneel at the ruler's feet, the Sultan held Shinno's shoulders in a firm grasp and willed him to stand. To the astonishment of everyone, the Sultan drew the man close and embraced him. At first, Shinno hesitated, but the ruler whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was the Sultan said to him, it caused the whoremaster to raise his arms and return that loving hug. Ending the embrace, the Sultan carefully peeled off the silk covering Shinno's face, opening it part way that only he could fully see the man's features. The Sultan then leaned forward and bestowed a tender kiss upon Shinno's lips. A shocked gasp issued from everyone's mouths. Even Shichiroji found this whole scene surreal. For the ruler to give this lowly whoremaster a kiss was not merely a sign of his favor, but also that he treated Shinno as an equal.

Still, Shinno remembered his true status. When the Sultan replaced the silk over his face, he got down on his hands and knees and humbly kissed the sandaled toes of the king. When he stood up, Shinno dared to look the ruler straight in the eye.

Instead of becoming angry at this insolence, the Sultan smiled and gave the man a small bow. In heavily accented English, he said, "May Allah go with you!"

To Shichiroji's surprise, Shinno clenched his right hand into a fist, his right arm bent at the elbow, lying parallel to his chest. With his left hand, he gripped his fist. The whoremaster then bowed, the traditional greeting of a Japanese warrior to his honored teacher or master.

"Salaam, my lord!" Shinno said in all sincerity. "May Allah always bless and protect you, your family and your kingdom!"

At this farewell, the whoremaster took his place at Tessai's side. Bowing three times to the Sultan, the two men turned on their heels and strode towards the main doors. For a moment, Shichiroji caught Shinno's eye, but the man did not acknowledge him.

With a wave to Masamune, who hurried towards him, Shichiroji followed the whoremaster and the Amanushi's adviser. The Samurai saw that the Sultan's mistresses and harem servants had lined up along the corridor. All the women had tears in their eyes as they granted Shinno gracious curtseys as he passed by. He did not return their greeting, keeping his eyes lowered. Apparently, he had already said his goodbyes. But Shichiroji could see how difficult it was for Shinno to restrain his emotions. The whoremaster obviously held a deep love for these people.

"How long did you live here?" Shichiroji asked the scribe at his side.

"Half a year," Masamune answered in turn.

The Samurai lapsed into silence. Six months... A very short time. But still sufficient enough to create a major impact upon the Sultan and his kingdom. The Amanushi's whoremaster truly must be a very special man.

Not wanting to prolong these painful farewells, Shinno quickened his pace, moving ahead of a surprised and clearly displeased Tessai. Without saying a single word to anyone, he all but ran into the courtyard, and climbed aboard the carriage.

Before getting into the carriage as well, Tessai called out to Shichiroji, "Lead us on, Horseman!" Seeing the scribe with the Samurai, he waved, "Masamune!"

"Wait!" Shichiroji exclaimed to the scribe before he could go. "What about the Amanushi's concubine?"

It was Gorobei who answered. "He is already inside the carriage. We have been waiting for you while you were in audience with the Sultan."

The question escaped Shichiroji's lips before he even realized it. "Is...is he all right?"

Masamune's brows cocked up in surprise. Remembering what happened last night, the scribe answered in anger, "Why should you care about him?" He then limped inside the carriage and shut the door, pulling the curtains close.

Shichiroji gritted his teeth at Masamune's reply. With a snort, he got onto his horse, Gorobei doing the same beside him. Surveying the caravan, he saw that all was in readiness. The two warriors urged their horses forward, taking their positions on either side of the royal carriage.

Glancing at the shadows within, Shichiroji pouted in seething anger. Masamune was right. Why should he care about a whore?

The Samurai raised his hand. With a wave forward, he shouted, "LET'S MOVE OUT!"

At this command, the caravan embarked on their long journey -- going through the dawn streets of El Djezair, out the city walls, heading for the barren wasteland of the Sahara.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was high above their heads when Tessai descended from the carriage. Taking the dappled mare, the Indian rode alongside Shichiroji to brief him on the journey ahead. It did not surprise the Samurai to say the least when Tessai told him that they would be avoiding many of the small towns along their route. In fact, it was the Amanushi's strict order that they should keep to the desert and mountain ranges along the way, and steer clear of any human contact.

"It seems your Master is intent on making this journey as difficult as possible," Shichiroji commented. "So far, we're still in the fertile lands. But once we reach the desert, I don't think his precious concubine could survive the trek."

"In truth, he is the real reason for this arduous route we shall be taking," Tessai revealed to him. "The Amanushi has many enemies and they would stand to gain a King's ransom if they're able to capture my Master's prized whore. Thankfully, this route would take us to the territories of the Bedouin tribes in friendly relations with the Amanushi. We should be safe."

"That is, if the desert doesn't kill us first," the Samurai said thoughtfully.

"Another thing that is not likely to happen. That is why he chose you. Aside from your skill as a warrior, you know this region like the back of your hand."

"The Amanushi puts too much faith in me. It's been years since I last crossed the Sahara. If there's one thing I've learned about the desert is that it's alive, the landscape never the same with every passage through it. Important landmarks come and go. Wells and oases dry up. A hostile environment for those who are unfamiliar with its territory."

Tessai gave Shichiroji a thoughtful glance. "You sound as if you are concerned about the Amanushi's concubine."

"Why shouldn't I be?" Shichiroji answered back. "I do not want such a precious cargo dying along the way. It would not look good for my reputation."

The Indian laughed at that remark. "True! That is oh so true! But you need not worry too much about this particular whore. In fact, he is not to be underestimated."

The Samurai looked at Tessai curiously. "Why do you say that?"

"The Amanushi's concubine is...there is no other word to describe him...unique. He is surrounded by such a powerful aura of character and goodness, which the Amanushi sought to corrupt. It was my Master's desire that he learn all the sensual arts. For years, we have traveled all over the world. He has been taught by the best courtesans, both male and female. However, although his body has been used, and he was used in so many ways possible, his soul remains pure. His honor remains intact. It is this quality that has attracted...allies...to his cause, friends who would not see such an innocent sullied and broken. Good friends who would do anything to free him. We nearly came close to losing him in Japan."

"Well, he'd better think twice about escaping while I'm here," Shichiroji said firmly. "I do not tolerate disobedience or insolence in slaves."

"Which is why the Amanushi specifically chose you," Tessai put in. "You have prior...experience...in these matters. My Master is hoping that you could teach his whore a lesson or two."

"Are you saying that he is allowing me to bed him?"

"And beat him if there is a need for it. I have bedded the Amanushi's whore on several occasions myself, and saw the necessity of pounding some sense into him as well. As I have often heard during our travels -- 'Spare not the rod!' "

Shichiroji lapsed into deep thought, recalling how he had taken the Amanushi's concubine last night. Unlike what Tessai had described, the whore had been compliant. Even when he had raped him, the man had meekly given him free rein to use his flesh as he wished. This rebellious attitude was more apt to the Amanushi's whoremaster, Shinno.

Before he could ask whom Tessai was referring to, the Indian had given him a small bow, saying, "I must see to my charge in the carriage," and rode off.

A frown knitted Shichiroji's brow. There was something not right. Indeed, a mystery was afoot here, and he had every intention of solving it.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was late afternoon when the caravan arrived at their first stop -- an oasis miles past the city of Djelfa.

Under Tessai's stern command, the servants hastened to erect the large tent that would serve as the temporary lodgings of the Amanushi's concubine, while their Masters waited inside the carriage.

Shichiroji, who was supervising the unloading of some of the supplies with Gorobei, watched out of the corner of his eye as the servants raised the circular tent. Instead of a simple opening in front, the tent had three large flaps. The first two flaps were extended forward and secured with two posts and ropes tied to pegs, which were hammered into the ground. The third length of canvas was unrolled on top of these two flaps and kept in place by more ropes, creating a makeshift portico. The true entrance to the tent itself, which was at the end of the portico, was covered by another flap of canvas.

As the Samurai looked on, the carriage was wheeled very close to the portico. Such was its construction that he could not see the people descending from the carriage. Just as the driver urged his horses onward, serving women hurried inside, bearing supplies and jars and a tub filled with water.

An elbow nudged his side. Shichiroji turned to find Gorobei grinning at him. "Come, my friend! There is nothing more to see."

But just as the two warriors were about to walk off to oversee the rest of the caravan, angry voices issued from within the tent. Shichiroji stopped at once, recognizing the voices as belonging to Tessai and Shinno. Surprisingly, the two men were not speaking in Arabic, but in Hindi. Before he could quickly translate inside his head what they were arguing about, Shinno stormed outside, an equally angry Tessai in hot pursuit. The adviser grabbed the taller man's arm, but Shinno shook it off. Again, Tessai snatched the whoremaster's arm.

Rounding on the Indian, Shinno shouted, "We are not prisoners, Tessai, to be kept locked up and under guard at all times! A breath of fresh air, a short walk, a moment to be left alone... Is that too much to ask? Just take a good look at where we are? Even a fool would think twice about escaping into the inferno of the desert!"

"But you are not a fool!" Tessai snapped back. "Kali only knows what schemes are running through that pretty little head of yours!"

The whoremaster burst into derisive laughter. "I am happy to hear that you don't think me a fool, like your beloved lord, the Amanushi." Shinno spat out the title with contempt. "A fool is he to let his prized whore travel the world and let strangers pick off his sweet flesh, instead of him who is the true master. What kind of fool is your Master, Tessai? Is he a dog who loves to eat the scraps that fall to the floor from a feast? Is he the type who prefers his manhood sheathed inside a channel that had been bruised and battered and slickened by the fluids of others? Perhaps he is not much of a man at all if he could not sow his own seed in the barren flesh of his precious male whore!"

Shichiroji's eyes widened in shock as Tessai struck Shinno in the face, causing the whoremaster to fall to the sand. He watched in horror as the adviser pulled out the small whip tucked under his belt.

Before the Indian could land a single blow upon the man, the Samurai rushed forward and stopped the descent of that whip.

"Tessai, no!" Shichiroji cried. "It won't do you any good to mark him!"

Grudgingly, Tessai lowered his arm. Pulling Shichiroji aside, he hissed, "He will not have any marks on him, even if I have him flogged. He is a strange one. He heals quickly and completely, as though he were an immortal."

"Even so, the Amanushi would not like having his lowly servants injured in any way."

"But he sorely tries my patience!"

"Let me handle him, Tessai," Shichiroji suggested. "Your Master trusts in my ability to manage his affairs with regards to his precious concubine. I could do the same with this little hothead." With a sly smile, he added, "Even whoremasters need to be disciplined from time to time."

There was a bewildered expression on Tessai's face. "Whoremaster? But he is..."

Gorobei suddenly interrupted, "As Shichiroji said, let him take care of this, my Lord. I trust that he could produce the results we desire."

As the moor led him away, Tessai declared out loud, more for the whoremaster's benefit than the Samurai's, "If you should find it difficult to control that arrogant little harlot, I could erect a whipping post for you myself."

Shichiroji cocked an eyebrow up in surprise when a contemptuous voice muttered, "Hah! You couldn't bring your cock to stand erect on your own, how much more a whipping post!"

So, Shichiroji thought in amusement, // Our little whoremaster is a whore himself! //

Thankfully, Tessai did not hear that retort. When the two warriors were finally gone, the Samurai focused his attention on the man spitting out blood a few feet away from him. The whoremaster had partially removed the tail of his turban from his face. Though most of his face was still hidden, Shichiroji was gratified by the sight of full lips.

Noting the Samurai's perusal, Shinno swiftly draped the length of black silk over his face and neck. With deep brown eyes flashing daggers, he demanded, "And what are you looking at?"

"A fool," Shichiroji replied casually, approaching him. "A very brave one, but still a fool nonetheless."

The Warrior offered a hand to the man. Shinno, however, ignored it and got up on his own.

With a snort, the whoremaster bent down and brushed the sand from his clothes. "I would greatly appreciate it if Tessai would do us both a favor and just stay out of my personal affairs."

"He is just doing his duty, you know," Shichiroji smiled broadly. Although Shinno's trousers were rather loose, his position caused the fabric to be stretched below the waist, revealing a nice, tight ass.

"Well, it looks like he has passed on his responsibilities to you, although after what you did last night, I seriously doubt if this is to my liking. But at least, now, you could train me in the art of the sword without him tailing us like a dog."

"I, particularly, am very pleased with this present arrangement. I personally do not mind following a tail as magnificent as yours."

Blushing hotly, Shinno made to slap Shichiroji, but the Samurai grabbed his wrist.

"Let go of me!" Shinno exclaimed between gritted teeth as he tried to pull his hand free.

In a quick move, however, Shichiroji twisted the whoremaster's arm behind his back and jerked him close.

"It would do you well, Shinno, to be on your best behavior when you're around me," the Samurai said in warning. "Unlike Tessai, I am not a very patient man. I will not hesitate to punish you."

"In case you've forgotten, I'm paying you to teach me. You do not displease or hurt your employer."

"Employer? My dear boy, you are my student. As your teacher, it is also my duty to keep you in line. The way I see it, you've been pampered for far too long. You need to be disciplined."

"You are not my teacher! I know a lot more about martial arts than you do! And I'm not afraid -- of you or your threats!"

"Oh, but you should!" Pressing his cheek close to the whoremaster's, the black silk the only thing preventing the contact of skin against skin, Shichiroji whispered, "Do you know what I was called when I was still a samurai? I was Shinigami, and you know why?"

With a "Harrumph!", Shinno turned his face away, his whole body stiffening. Haughtily, he declared, "I couldn't care less, but I think you're still going to tell me anyway."

Shichiroji wanted to laugh at that retort, but willed himself not to. "That's because I know an infinite number of ways to end a man's life -- swift and painless, slow and agonizing... I know them all. I could even take the credit for inventing many of these fiendish methods."

"You can't kill me! The Amanushi will have your head!"

"Of course, I couldn't do that! But I could torture you, and that has always been my specialty. Torture that could lead to a most exquisite kind of death, wherein one does not even have to give up his life."

The whoremaster sneered at him, "Ooh! I'm shaking in my boots!"

But Shichiroji ignored the wisecrack. "Let's take, as an example, Tessai's favorite -- flogging. I'm sure you've heard of people who find sexual gratification when someone hurts them, whips them."

"Well, I'm NOT one of them. I've never been a connoisseur of pain."

"That's because the pain is all you feel. Why don't you look at it this way?" Before the man could argue, Shichiroji had pushed him towards the palm tree. "Let's imagine that this tree is a flogging post. Although most...executioners...allow a prisoner to retain a modicum of propriety by having his loins covered, I've always preferred a prisoner completely naked...vulnerable. I would take his wrists and secure it to an iron ring above his head. I would approach the prisoner, stand so close to him that anyone would think I was hearing his confession. But in truth, I am fondling, stroking his sex until it is as hard as an iron rod. To keep it in that state, I would tie a leather cord at the base of his manroot. That gives the prisoner two things to worry about -- the flogging and the intense desire for release."

As he spoke, the Samurai carefully raised Shinno's hands high above his head. It pleased Shichiroji immensely to see that the whoremaster remained in that position, his hands gripping the tree trunk behind him. Truly he was caught in the Warrior's spell.

"Now that my prisoner is ready for me," Shichiroji continued in low tones, "I take my whip. My first few strokes are light and teasing, nothing more than mere licks on his torso."

Shinno gasped as the Warrior tore his shirt open, baring his upper body, but still he did not move, even when Shichiroji cupped his chest, palms running over the T-shaped scar.

"The nipples are especially sensitive, the caresses of my lash causing them to rise into taut little peaks. Aching to be touched. Yearning to be punished." Shichiroji flicked Shinno's tits with his fingertips, eliciting whimpers from the whoremaster's lips with every brief stimulation. "But of course, I cannot be gentle forever. After all, cruelty is expected of me, and in this case, you have to be cruel to be kind. So, my hand tightens around the whip."

Shinno nearly jumped in surprise when the Samurai suddenly clapped his hands, the sound like the sharp crack of a whip.

"That first hard blow always catches my prisoner off-guard. But does he feel pain? Oh, no! To his dismay, he discovers that the pain and pleasure have become one, the bliss concentrated on his aching cock and bruised nipples. I never let his manroot suffer the wrath of my lash, leaving it wanting for more. His tits, however, are a different matter. I allow my lash to cut deeply into those sensitive patches till they bleed, like cruel fingers squeezing them as a child squeezes a cow's udders for its milk."

As he said this, Shichiroji squeezed Shinno's nipples, pulling and twisting on the tight nubs. It surprised the Samurai, to say the least, when, as the whoremaster before him moaned, milk spurted from the tips. He took the pearly white drop on his fingertip and placed it inside his mouth, tasting the sweet essence of his captive. It pleased the Warrior even more when he felt the whoremaster's erection brush against his thigh.

Swiftly, the Samurai spun Shinno around that he was now facing the tree. "No more play. No more teasing. No more gentleness. Every stroke of the lash creates bleeding welts, transforming the skin of his back into a canvas of dark red crisscrossing lines. Now, there is excruciating pain. But, surprisingly, there is pleasure as well."

Shichiroji gripped the man's hips, his voice sinuous, willing both their bodies into the graceful motions of copulation. "As the whip cuts through his flesh, his body arches with every bite of the lash. To get his mind off the whip's sting, he lets his nipples press against the post, every contact sending signals of pleasure shooting down to his constricted groin. With graceful undulations, he moves his hips, the length of his erect cock scraping against the post. He yearns for release, but the blows continue to come. When I see that he couldn't take any more, I remove the cord around his stiff manroot and grip it tight, still denying him the desperate urge to spill his seed."

Saying this, Shichiroji freed Shinno's cock from within his trousers, holding the shaft hard. The whoremaster whimpered, lost in the Samurai's seductive narration.

The Warrior could not suppress the smile that formed on his face. Slowly, he raised his hand, saying at the same time, "He wants his release. He is begging for it. It is agonizing and pure ecstasy at the same time. I turn the whip in my hand, so that the handle is now facing forward. With one swift motion...I RAM THE HILT STRAIGHT INTO HIS ASS!"

Shinno squealed in surprise and pain when the Samurai spanked him fiercely on the butt. To his utter revulsion, he found himself spurting his seed onto the bark of the palm tree.

The stinging slap that Shinno bestowed upon his cheek did nothing to stop the laughter from bubbling up Shichiroji's throat. The little of Shinno's face that was exposed revealed the dark red flush of his skin. Embarrassed and very angry, the whoremaster stuffed his now flaccid sex within the confines of his trousers, a barrage of multilingual expletives spilling from his mouth.

As he stormed in the direction of the large tent, a giggling Shichiroji called after him, "It would be a great pleasure for me to teach you new tricks with the sword, Shinno!"

Shinno whirled around. Before Shichiroji could duck, a rock hit him squarely between the eyes. But still, he continued to roar with laughter.

Like a petulant child, the whoremaster raised the silk a bit. "Beeeh!" Shinno stuck his tongue out at the Samurai.

With righteous indignation, Shinno marched inside his tent, Shichiroji's hearty laughter ringing in his ears.


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