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 20, 2006


Chapter Seven

In contrast to the heat of the mornings, the desert night was cool, the breeze lifting Shichiroji's cloak behind him like a flag. The heavens above him were dotted with twinkling stars, the moon like a silver cookie with a bite chewed off. It was a beautiful night, thought Shichiroji. A wonderful evening for sparring.

As he made his way down the dune, the sight that greeted him below surprised the Samurai.

There was a large circular patch of gravel, the outer edges lighted by luminous crystals. Propped on opposite ends of the circle were what looked to Shichiroji like makeshift racks. Standing in the center of the circle was Shinno, but this time, the whoremaster was dressed in the clothes of a ninja, his long hair plaited in a single braid down his back, the curled end teasing his rump. To the Samurai's even greater surprise, Masamune and Gorobei were nowhere to be found.

Going towards the whoremaster, he asked, "Aren't you going to get into trouble for not bringing your chaperones with you?"

"I thought the Amanushi entrusted my welfare into your hands?" Shinno queried in turn. "I guess that legally makes you my chaperone, unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless you give me good cause not to trust you."

"That's all in the past now," Shichiroji said firmly.

"Is it?" There was doubt in the whoremaster's eyes. "How could I be sure?"

A smile formed on the Samurai's face. "Take it a day at a time. You'll see the difference." Shichiroji's eyes fell upon the weapons on the racks. "What's this?"

"I thought perhaps you might like to put my skills to the test." Shinno gestured to the weapons. "In the years I've spent traveling to distant lands, I've learned to use all of these. I have a lot to thank my teachers, especially Shimada Kanbei. He never thought of me as a slave and a whore. He believed, that if I learned martial arts, I could use it to return to the right path. I am thankful that the trainers who came after him shared his sentiments. I still believe, however, that my training is lacking."

"But you have learned so many new things in such a short period time." Shichiroji grinned mischievously. "Let's make this more interesting. Remember that I still owe you a little spanking." The Samurai nearly burst into laughter at the sight of the dark scowl in Shinno's eyes. "I'll tell you what. If you are able to defeat me, I won't spank you."

"Does this mean if I win, I could spank you again?" queried the whoremaster slyly.

"No, your prize is that you won't get your sweet little ass bruised."

"I don't like it," Shinno declared like a petulant child. "If I win, I want to whack your butt too."

The laughter, at last, bubbled out of him. "As if you could spank me! Very well then, Shinno. Let's see what you can do."

Before Shinno could move, Shichiroji snatched from the rack the naginata, a long wooden staff with a five-foot blade affixed to the other end. With a fierce war cry, he charged at the stunned whoremaster. Shinno, however, quickly recovered from his initial surprise. The Samurai grinned as the whoremaster blocked the oncoming thrust with his own bladed staff.

"Very good!" the Warrior praised his student. "Let's see how you handle this!"

Freeing his naginata, Shichiroji let loose with a flurry of swift twirls and thrusts. But Shinno was up to the challenge, blocking and parrying each swipe at him. When the Samurai attempted a blow to the legs, the whoremaster did a graceful backward somersault, landing on his feet, at once assuming an offensive posture. This time, it was Shinno who lunged at his trainer with thrusts, which Shichiroji successfully evaded with a series of somersaults of his own. At the last thrust, the Samurai leaped through the air, flying high above Shinno's head. The whoremaster whirled around, hoping to catch the Warrior with a cut to the belly. However, as he descended, Shichiroji twirled the naginata in his hands, catching Shinno's weapon. With a strong jerk, he yanked the naginata out of his student's grasp.

Weaponless, Shinno broke into a run, heading for the rack. His hand closed around the san-setsu-kon, a staff composed of three wooden sections linked together by short chains. Surprisingly, the weapon Shichiroji chose instead was its much shorter variant, the nunchaku. Shinno let the sticks of the san-setsu-kon fly, hoping to down the Samurai with a well-placed strike. The Warrior did not make any countermoves, simply ducking from each swipe of the wooden flail, with one stick of the nunchaku held in his right hand while the other was tucked under his armpit. Losing his patience, Shinno put all his force into throwing the first two sections of the san-setsu-kon, the point aimed at Shichiroji's belly. In the blink of an eye, Shichiroji stepped to the side and released the second stick of the nunchaku from his armpit, their weapons clacking at the impact. As Shinno pulled his weapon back, this caused the chain of the Warrior's nunchaku to coil around the san-setsu-kon. Before the whoremaster knew what was happening, Shichiroji had total control of his weapon, the Samurai's hand gripping the other end, while the third section of the staff was flying towards his head. Shinno barely got out of the way as he floated upwards.

"Oh, no!" Shichiroji laughed breathlessly. "You're not going anywhere!"

With a sweeping motion, the Samurai threw a pair of bo-shuriken, or throwing daggers, at the whoremaster above him. Shinno was able to duck from the first, but the second sliced through the tie of his hair, causing the braid to unravel.

"So, you want to play rough, huh?" the whoremaster declared, unsheathing his katana, as he descended.

"Shinno," Shichiroji began, snapping his favorite spear to its full length, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

The minute his student's toe touched the ground, their blades met in a loud clash.

Anyone watching the two men at that point would think they were dancing. Both moved effortlessly -- legs kicking out, graceful bodies evading potentially fatal strikes with sinuous ease. Shichiroji was particularly enthralled as he observed Shinno's every move. He had no doubt that he had learned his martial arts lessons well. Now that his identity as the mysterious ninja was revealed, the whoremaster did not hold anything back. Only a few refinements and more practice, plus the matter of discipline and controlling his temper, Shinno would become a formidable adversary. Looking at that firm body and that lovely silky brown hair fluttering behind him, Shichiroji mused that his student was probably the most beautiful adversary he had ever faced.

The Samurai found himself getting distracted by the movements of those glossy tresses. The hair teased and caressed his face, that he could catch the pleasing scent of lavender. However, as those silken strands coiled around his face, the tips tickling his eyes, he gasped as he felt something sharp nick his cheek. Shichiroji's hand went up to his face and, as he wiped his cheek, it came away bloody.

"I hope I didn't cut you too deeply, Samurai," Shinno declared smugly, two hands on the hilt of his katana, his hair fluttering behind him.

"Very sly," said Shichiroji, truly impressed. "Using your hair as a distraction."

"If you hadn't removed the tie of my braid, I would have shown you how I use my hair like a whip. I'd like to think of it as 'anything goes' martial arts."

"Oh, is that right? Well, I know a thing or two from that school as well."

The two men then raised their weapons above their heads at the same time. With fierce battle cries, they charged at each other, ready to deliver the disabling blow. However, before Shinno could bring his sword down, Shichiroji made a sudden step back, twirling his spear. With the spear's shaft, he knocked the whoremaster's katana out of his hand. Dropping his weapon, the Samurai grabbed a fistful of the whoremaster's hair and pulled. With a surprised cry, Shinno started to fall backwards. Grabbing him by the waist, Shichiroji spun his student around that, as he dropped to his right knee, Shinno landed right on top of his left thigh.

"I guess this means I win," Shichiroji exclaimed, yanking the scabbard free from the whoremaster's belt.

Shinno howled in pain and fury as the Warrior gave his luscious behind ten sharp whacks with his sheath. Releasing him abruptly, the whoremaster sat on his haunches, rubbing his bruised backside with both hands. There was a resentful glower in his eyes.

"That's not fair!" the whoremaster complained. "I only gave you four whacks that night!"

"I didn't keep count," answered Shichiroji. "I was too busy crying out. Maybe I should give you a few more."

Shinno's eyes were wide with fear. "You're not doing that to me again!" Saying this, the whoremaster got to his feet and leaped into the air, using the desert wind to carry him over the dunes.

At once, Shichiroji gave chase. The two men floated above the desert, their feet barely touching the sand below. They looked like beautiful birds, their hands raised to their sides, their hair fluttering behind them. Before Shinno could disappear behind a dune, Shichiroji reached out and grabbed him by the waist. Laughing, the two men fell to the ground, rolling down the side of the dune. When they came to a halt at the base, Shinno was flat on his back, Shichiroji on top of him. With the dune behind them, they were nothing more than dark shadows to each other's eyes.

"May I make love to you?" Shichiroji asked the whoremaster beneath him, his fingers teasing the mask covering his face.

"I thought the Amanushi gave you permission to bed me anytime you wished?" queried Shinno.

"I thought he meant Takeru."

The whoremaster peeled the mask from his face. "He meant both of us."

At these words, the two men divested each other of their clothing until they both lay naked on the sand. Eagerly, Shichiroji explored every inch of Shinno's shadowed face with his fingertips, memorizing the exquisite details of his eyes, nose and lips. Hugging his lover to him, the Samurai devoured Shinno's face, plundering it with his mouth and tongue. The whoremaster opened his mouth to the Warrior, letting Shichiroji probe his moist depths with his tongue. He even nipped playfully on that tongue. As Shichiroji kissed every inch of his student's face, his hands explored the firm, beautiful body beneath him, rubbing the firm back, going no lower than the waist. Pushing the whoremaster down, the Samurai let his fingers move to the broad chest, finding those tiny peaks that never failed to give him such delight. Shinno groaned as Shichiroji nipped at his tits. With a feeble cry of bliss, the whoremaster pressed the Samurai close to him, urging him to suckle hard on his nipple. His hand even went down to his chest to squeeze the taut peak, spurting delicious fluid into Shichiroji's mouth.

With shocking aggressiveness, Shinno pushed the Warrior off him that it was Shichiroji who was now on his back. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his head to the Samurai's burgeoning erection and took it in his mouth. Shichiroji moaned as the whoremaster swallowed his entire length, those strong muscles of his throat squeezing the shaft. Unable to control himself, he ejaculated into Shinno's mouth, the whoremaster hungrily suckling the Samurai's seed just as he had suckled on his nipple.

"My turn!" whispered Shichiroji.

Exchanging places, the Warrior laid the whoremaster once more on his back, propping those long, shapely limbs over his shoulders. Taking some of the semen that had dribbled down the corner of Shinno's mouth, he coated his cock with it. Shinno howled in pleasure as Shichiroji sheathed his aching rod inside him, gripping his student's erect cock at the same time. As he thrust into the whoremaster, he stroked and squeezed the impressive erection in his hand, driving them both to the precipice of desire. When they came, it felt like fireworks exploding around them. Shichiroji was very pleased when he felt his student's seed splatter on his belly. Leaning down again, it did not surprise him to find that Shinno's chest was wet with sweat and spilled milk.

Before the last of the waves of bliss could subside, Shinno got to his hands and knees. It was a clear invitation that Shichiroji couldn't refuse. In the next few minutes, the Samurai had mounted Shinno, a fierce stallion pumping into a graceful mare, as he showered kisses on the rough mark on the whoremaster's right shoulder blade. Shichiroji knew that he was causing Shinno pain with every slap of his hefty bullocks onto that bruised rump. But the cries that issued from the whoremaster's lips were not pain-filled ones. Soon, they completely surrendered to the pleasure, howling their ecstasy into the desert night that silenced the cries of the jackals in the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shichiroji trudged back to camp, a rosy glow on his cheeks. The coupling that he and Shinno had... He had to admit, it still wasn't enough for him. But the whoremaster had reminded him, as he was getting dressed, that there was still Takeru back in the tent.

"It would make me very happy if you would please him as you had just pleased me," Shinno whispered before he disappeared into the desert, leaving a faint kiss on the Samurai's lips.

Despite his still active libido, Shichiroji was hesitant to go to the Amanushi's prized concubine, pausing before the tent. He knew that he had hurt Takeru in the past. Could he stifle that urge to hurt? That desire for revenge?

"It would make me very happy if you would please him as you had just pleased me." Shinno's parting words to him were like a breath of lavender in the breeze.

With a deep breath, Shichiroji strode inside the tent. Takeru was seated on a cushion, brushing his long hair by the dim light of the brazier. The fire of the lamp cast a reddish glow upon his tresses. Seeing him, Takeru halted as well. Shichiroji could detect the fear and the tension in the concubine's form.

With a gracious bow, the Samurai made the same request he had asked Shinno earlier, "Takeru, may I make love to you?"

Shichiroji's eyes widened in surprise and delight when Takeru eagerly ran into his arms in a flurry of silk and satin.

As they both sank down on the beddings, Shichiroji savored the pleasing scent of lavender in the concubine's hair.


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