text: Goemon slipped patiently from shadow to shadow, one tree to another. He wanted to entice the yamabushi chieftain into the forest. It would be better to dispose of him quietly, if at all possible. A group of the mountain men patiently tracked him, and suddenly Goemon found that all his wiles were in vain. Daisangyoja stood before him, a mocking smile on his face. Between them stood five fierce-looking yamabushi. Goemon stood quietly in the clearing, his mind cool and alert. He smiled at the five men as they surrounded him. His calm enraged them, and they made trembling attacks in his direction. He took the fan out of his sash and fanned himself patiently.
  
  One of the yamabushi lunged, and Goemon easily avoided the attack. A second cut at his head, and he parried neatly with the fan. The steel ribs clanged on the sword metal. Goemon threw a handful of powdered pepper into the attacker's eyes, then slid beyond him and hammered the edge of the fan into another attacker's wrist. The man's weapon fell from his grasp. Goemon seized his lapel, twisted, and threw the struggling yamabushi easily onto two of his companions.
  
  Goemon kicked high and his foot connected with a yamabushi chin; then he spun, grabbed a sword hand, and twisted. The yamabushi fell to his knees with a broken wrist. Goemon attacked again, opening the fan one-handed and cutting at a rough face. The sharpened steel edge of a rib sliced through a black pillbox hat and tore at a scalp. The yamabushi, blinded by his own blood, did not have time to react as his own sword was twisted from his grasp and plunged into his belly. The attackers, those still able to move, were in a panic. They turned to flee, and all but one fell victim to their cowardice. Using the borrowed sword, Goemon cut them down as they fled. He turned to deal with their leader, and threw the sword with disgust at Daisangyoja's retreating back.
  
  In the shrine complex below, the tabard bearers advanced, their devices held high. Conchs, flutes, and drums heralded their approach, and the torches were raised to oppose them.
  
  Goemon heard a crying sound, and ran rapidly through the forest seeking the woman's voice. He charged into a clearing in time to see a wild-looking yamabushi aim a cut at Okiku, who was leaning painfully to one side. Goemon's fan spun through the air just as the yamabushi raised his sword and attacked. A steel star sprouted from the mountain man's eye. The fan's jagged edge sliced through the exposed great artery in his neck. Goemon passed him at a run and retrieved the steel-ribbed fan. Okiku smiled at him through the pain and pulled the steel throwing star from the yamabushi's gory eye, and the three of them set off to find more enemies.
  
  They all met again in a clearing in the forest. Goemon looked at his friends, then ruefully at the pile of bodies in the clearing. None of the three bodies bore any wounds, but their necks all rested at curious angles. A heavy man was sitting on a rock. He had a minor cut and was being tended by two young women, twins, who were dressed as itinerant actors.
  
  Goemon's face twisted in momentary disapproval. Actors should not involve themselves in important affairs. Then his natural good humor reasserted itself, and he considered his own actions ruefully. Jiro stood near the wrestler, eyes raking the forest. Only Okiku and the wrestler were wounded. Considering that the wrestler was completely unarmed, Goemon thought his survival a miracle. The riffraff that made up a mountain beggars' band was hardly a threat to him, Jiro, or Okiku, all of whom were armed. Rosamund had found Satsuki and the two of them had hidden the best they could, coming out when Jiro's powerful bellow had announced the yamabushi's defeat. They counted seven bodies and several trails of blood. Daisangyoja's body was not among those found.
  
  "They'll attack again," Jiro said stolidly, wiping his long blade. He sheathed it in one smooth motion, his eyes never leaving the wrestler's.
  
  "Good," the wrestler grunted. "I do not care for those people."
  
  "No, I am sorry." Midori moved her open hand in negation. Her voice was soft but firm. "They will not return."
  
  "How do you know, dear?" Satsuki's mild rejoinder seemed to give the yamabushi girl confidence.
  
  "I know the bands. Daisangyoja has failed them too many times. They will not obey him now. His dreams have come to naught. We have nothing to fear from him. He will be replaced by one of his seconds."
  
  "I saw Hachibei's body on our way here," Satsuki said in a low voice. "And... I am afraid I killed Tsuneyoshi myself..." She looked somewhat abased, her eyes held low.
  
  "Nonetheless," said Goemon, "we will be very careful. They will probably search for us at the festival. We had best reach the village before nightfall. It is small, and there will be no crowd to serve as a blind for them to stalk us. I would rather meet them in the open."
  
  At the far-off shrine the lit torches met the advancing tabards and opposed their entrance to the precincts. The excited crowd watched as the tabards advanced again and again, only to be repelled by the blazing wooden barrels. The bearers' faces ran with sweat. The crowd drank and called out excitedly. In the darkening forest several dead men lay quiet, uncaring. Ferns caressed their faces.
  
  Evening fell as the party from Miyako tolled up the path. Across the valley they could see the last glow of the torches from the festival. Above them the stars shone through the growing night. Somewhere below them in the dark they could hear the endless sheet of the roaring waterfall. They sought the headman amidst the quiet cluster of thatch houses.
  
  The formalities were soon concluded. Food was brought, and they were apologetically shown to the only free room the grateful headman could offer them, the main room of his house. The meal was a simple one, rice, grilled ayu whose flesh was sweet and redolent of pure mountain streams, fresh mountain vegetables, and delicate-flavored pine mushrooms. Exhausted, not even blowing out the lamps, they crawled into their bedding. Not even Tatsunoyama's mountainous snores could keep anyone awake.
  
  Midori awoke to a delicate touch on her thighs. She opened her eyes and looked up into a cloud of golden hair. Rosamund smiled down at her, then leaned forward and kissed her passionately. The blonde's inquisitive tongue searched Midori's mouth expertly, and Midori surrendered to the feeling.
  
  "I've been wanting to have you alone for some time now," whispered Rosamund. Midori hugged her to her breast. Her nipples, she noticed without surprise, were rock hard, almost painful with her desire. Rosamund's mouth moved downwards silently. She engulfed a nipple, then sucked the entire small breast into her mouth. Midori sighed a ghost of a sound. Her hands lightly touched the fall of golden hair against her chest.
  
  "I've been wanting to do this for soooo long..."
  
  She tugged at the hair gently. It was softer than hers, and unlike any other she knew, it fell in ringlets that resisted straightening.
  
  "Harder!" said Rosamund.
  
  Surprised but obedient, the former yamabushi girl complied, forcing the blonde's mouth to dig deeply into her breast. She was rewarded with a flickering tongue that laved the painful nipple. Rosamund's mouth shifted to the other side, and her fingers sought the soft, downy hair of Midori's pussy. Midori obligingly spread her legs. Her hips rose without conscious command to meet the probing digit. Rosamund cupped the soft, downy mound with her hand. She squeezed the slimmer girl's lips between the three middle fingers, rubbing the slick clitoris fiercely. Midori grinned and showed her teeth, and her hand squeezed Rosamund's full breast harder than she intended. She was about to apologize, when Rosamund kissed her deeply, then muttered, "Again!" The brown-haired girl squeezed harder and was rewarded with another soul-searching kiss. The blonde's expert tongue licked out and laved the inside of her mouth, then nibbled the length of her neck, descended to her shoulders, and then sucked hungrily at her erect brown nipples. For a moment Rosamund raised her head and peered through the dark at Midori's face.
  
  "Hard! I like it hard!" she said. There was a note of pleading in her voice. Midori obligingly squeezed the beautiful full breast before her. The erect pink nipple burned against her palm, and her strong trained fingers sank deeply into the soft flesh. She was rewarded by a muted groan and another deep kiss from the blonde. Intrigued and somewhat mystified, Midori experimented. She took one perfect soft nipple and pinched it roughly. Far from having it pulled back out of her grasp, she found Rosamund's body covering her and the blonde's mouth laving her with kisses.
  
  "You like being hurt while fucking?" she asked in a whisper.
  
  Rosamund giggled softly. "Goemon, Jiro, and Okiku all raped me when we first met. I've loved it ever since. Hurt me—please hurt me."
  
  For a moment Midori was shocked to the bottom of her soul. Lovemaking was for fun and enjoyment. She had seen the result of rape, and no one she knew who had undergone the experience enjoyed violence. That was a thing for men, and not of the best sort. Then she suddenly recalled whom she was speaking to. Of course, Mistress Rosamund was a foreign devil... Their customs must be so different, and one could not expect their reactions to be completely human. No girl would enjoy that sort of thing, but among the kebozu, the hairy devils, it must be the norm.
  
  Meantime the friction of the blonde's fingers on her cunt was getting to her, and she felt obliged to return the pleasure she was receiving. She stiffened a finger and drove it into Rosamund's shoulder. She had been taught finger massage by one of her former band, and the pressure points could be used for ill as well as good.
  
  Rosamund yelped and ground her hand into the chestnut-haired girl's cunt. Her body wriggled with abandon on the slimmer body below it. Her full breasts were mashed against Midori's smaller ones, and both women joined their mouths in a passionate kiss.
  
  "You must be quiet or the others will wake up," Midori whispered.
  
  "No, they're too tired. In any case, they'll just join the fun..."
  
  Suddenly it occurred to Rosamund that she would rather have Midori to herself for a while, and she whispered half-reluctantly, "Actually, maybe you should gag me somehow. I usually yell a lot..."
  
  Midori, still somewhat unsure of herself, removed the silk scarf that Rosamund used to tie her sleeping robe. She gagged the blonde, not too tightly, then looked into Rosamund's eyes to be sure she was doing the right thing. The blue eyes, almost invisible in the gloom, looked at her with a hint of mischief and expectation. Midori spread the blonde beneath her and set to work with her fingers and tongue. The strong, practiced digits dug into the blonde's soft breasts, eliciting muted squeals. Midori kissed each painful point carefully, before moving on to the next, descending gradually.
  
  Rosamund found herself enjoying one of the most pleasurable fucks she had had. At first Midori was gentle with her, careful not to hurt her too much. But gradually as she got into the spirit of things, the light blows turned harder, the pain from the probing fingers more lingering. Midori's mouth sucked on her skin, bringing pleasure with the pain, and Rosamund started shivering uncontrollably. Her hands, which had been guiding Midori's head to the places of her greatest pleasure exploring the slim girl's smooth body, now flailed aimlessly. Midori paused a moment, and a bold idea occurred to her. She slipped off the blonde, flipped her over, and rapidly tied Rosamund's hands together behind her back. Rosamund did not object, merely waiting for what was to come.
  
  The sight of Rosamund's magnificent ass beckoned to Midori. The smooth, pale hills rose in a perfect curve, bisected by a long, sweet line that separated the two halves like a peach. She kissed each bun separately, then dug her fingers viciously into them. There was another muted squeal, and she set to work in earnest, her teeth nipping the smooth skin, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. Rosamund's trembling increased, and she agitated her ass in circles, unsuccessfully trying to evade the painful touch.
  
  Midori separated the two halves, exposing the length of the crease, the tiny bud of the asshole, and the beginning of the blonde forest below. She bent close and wondered whether any man had penetrated that little hole. Her fingers explored for her, and Rosamund's ass jerked up to greet her. She dug her fingers in in earnest, then shifted some of her attention to Rosamund's cunt. As soon as she touched the slick lips, she was rewarded by a flood of moisture that overran her fingertips. She forced the beautiful legs apart and her tongue licked out to collect some of the honey. Rosamund trembled violently, and her hips bucked, throwing Midori's head backwards.
  
  She turned Rosamund roughly over and crouched over her body. She was surprised at the size of the blonde's clitoris, which stuck out like a tiny fleshy claw. She sucked at it, at the same time forcing her cunt down onto the blonde's mouth. Her tongue licked the length of Rosamund's cunt; then she settled down to sucking hungrily at the large clitoris, her fingers digging into the muscles of Rosamund's thighs.
  
  The combination of the demanding mouth and knowledgeable fingers was too much for Rosamund to bear. Over her nose she could smell the musky perfume of Midori's cunt. She wriggled her wrists, and the sash on her wrists fell away. She ripped the gag from her mouth and reached for the slim girl's ass. Her mouth and nose were covered by the fragrant forest of Midori's soft hairs, and she began licking and sucking hungrily.
  
  Both women were exhausted before long, their faces covered with one another's juices, their insides rippling with the number of times they had come. They stopped with mutual consent, and Midori rolled off Rosamund, touching her sleepily. Both smiled in the darkness as they composed themselves for sleep.