text: "Well, what have we here?" The sharp cruel voice pierced through Momoe's dreams. She tried to rise, blinking, only to find a heavy weight pushing down on her chest. The pressure was being exerted by a dainty foot encased in a white tabi sock. A woman's face loomed over her. It was coldly beautiful with a towering, expensive hairdo. "A present for me, I imagine. Get up girl, let's have a look at you."
  
  Momoe rose slowly to her feet, conscious of her grubby looks and inadequate covering. Cutting her bonds on a carelessly exposed hinge, she had managed to escape the old warehouse. By then, exhausted and cold, she had cared for nothing but some shelter. In the light of the dawn she had managed to creep unnoticed into the villa, looking for some food. A plate of stale bean-jam cakes had satisfied her hunger and she had curled up in a large closet full of musty bedding, hoping dreamily that she would not be discovered by the owners. She had found a large workman's sark with which to cover herself, but not a sash. The woman slapped her hands away from the front of the large man's shirt and dropped the covering to the floor of the closet.
  
  "Umm. Lovely." She looked Momoe up and down and slowly licked her lips. Behind her a door slid open and a young woman with smooth brown hair knelt at the opening. "Mistress ..."
  
  "Why do you have to interfere ..." the imperious woman began. Then she saw the figure of the young samurai behind the kneeling maid and said in the same breath, "Oh, it's you."
  
  Uemura smiled at his mistress, then noticed the naked girl in the closet. His eyebrows rose in surprise.
  
  "A new playmate?"
  
  Haruko looked at him over her shoulder for a minute, wanting perhaps to object, then she smiled tightly and said, "Yes. We can have some fun."
  
  Momoe tried to back away but was held by the closet. Haruko noted the movement out of the corner of her eye. She spun to face Momoe and slapped her hard, once on either cheek. "You'll not move, girl. Do what you're told. You realize I could have you arrested for theft? Who gave you permission to enter this house?"
  
  Momoe fell to her knees and started babbling an explanation.
  
  "Shut up!" said Haruko fiercely. "or I'll have this samurai kill you for insulting his presence."
  
  Momoe buried her face in the mat, shivering with fear. She knew the woman was right: kirisute gomen, cut-and-go was the normal samurai response to any rudeness from a commoner.
  
  A male hand stroked her back and a male finger penetrated the length of her ass-crack.
  
  "If you behave," the young man said, "We'll let you go later without harm. And perhaps a reward. Do you understand?"
  
  Helplessly Momoe nodded, shivering.
  
  "Bring her to the bedroom. And you Midori, come with us."
  
  Haruko preceded them into the room she used for sleeping. Midori and Uemura dragged the unwilling Momoe with them. A quilt, still disarrayed from the sleepers' presence, dominated the room. The quilt was of the highest quality workmanship, Momoe noticed, while the woman and the man examined her. The maidservant knelt passively at their side. They ran their hands over her body, slapping her hands aside when she tried uneasily to stop them from examining her hidden parts. Momoe noted dully that her asshole was still somewhat sore from the penetration of the previous night, but otherwise she was unchanged. A tingling started invading her body. She trembled and her breasts jiggled on her chest.
  
  Haruko forced Momoe down onto the quilt. Uemura held her legs apart, gripping her ankles. She raised her head to see what they were about to do to her.
  
  "Midori, come here!" Haruko demanded.
  
  The brown-haired maid glided towards her mistress. Uemura examined her lustfully. He had his own plans for her.
  
  "Prepare this whore for us," Haruko said.
  
  Without a word Midori knelt besides Momoe's hips. She inserted a delicate knowing finger into the young weaver's cunt, touching her tiny clitoris delicately with a saliva-moistened finger. She spread the delicate lips with both hands, then kissed the long lips passionately. Momoe, her eyes closed, raised her knees to facilitate Midori's work. Haruko looked on. Seeing Uemura's anticipatory glances at Midori's bent form, she ordered him to rise. She kissed her paramour deeply.
  
  "Undress me!" she commanded. He untied the silk sash which slithered to the floor, then the under kerchief. Her rich robes, three layers of them, parted. His hands slipped automatically to fondle her thin form, though his eyes were on the couple on the floor.
  
  Midori's expert tongue was raising great waves of passion in Momoe. Her hips were jerking upwards uncontrollably and she clutched the soft brown hair, bringing the tongue deeper into her. "I want to touch you too," she murmured, her eyes closed. Midori ignored her. Momoe twisted on the futon, disarranging it still further, intent only on the delicious tongue that was exciting her to the first in a series of climaxes. She opened her eyes to see the cruel samurai lady and her man crouching over her. Both were stark naked. The man's hand was dug deep into the woman's cunt, which he was rubbing furiously. The woman's lustful panting increased. She grabbed Momoe's small chin with iron-strong fingers.
  
  "You'll do precisely as I say!" she commanded. Momoe nodded, scared but expectant.
  
  Haruko saw the glint of lust in Uemura's eyes. Her control of him in the last few days had become precarious. She would have to re-establish her dominance, first by honey, later ...
  
  "We'll have them together," she muttered.
  
  Uemura, entranced by the spectacle, nodded.
  
  "Undress the maid while I attend to something. Position her over the whore's mouth."
  
  Nothing loth, Uemura stripped Midori rapidly. Her slim body called out to him. He stroked his hand against her soft-haired mound and she urged him on by moving her hips, then he inserted two fingers into her eager cunt. She did not pause at her labors, merely moving her hips in time to his strokes. His cock was almost painfully erect and he longed to plunge into her waiting femaleness.
  
  Haruko returned and directed him to place Midori over the other girl's head. She carried a lacquered box decorated with peonies out of which she withdrew a double ivory harigata. Two ivory cocks were joined cunningly at their bases, forming an acute angle which was flexible at the join. She inserted one end of cock into herself, her face beatific at the feel, then knelt besides Midori's head.
  
  Momoe saw the most delicate cunt she had ever seen poised over her face. The hairs were soft and brown, the lips delicate and pink, exuding an aroma she could not ignore. Unbidden she pulled at Midori's hips. The perfect cunt descended to her mouth and she joyfully greeted it with a kiss that turned to a long passionate suck of the delicate scented membranes. Midori reciprocated by drawing lovingly at Momoe's cunt. The downy black hairs tickled her nostrils and she buried her face as deep as she could in the new girl's pussy.
  
  Haruko and Uemura looked on with satisfaction. Haruko squatted before Midori's face and roughly shoved it aside. Momoe's juicy, saliva-wettened cunt was exposed. Momoe clutched fitfully, searching for Midori's face to no avail. Instead the ivory prick was presented at the opening of her cunt and thrust well inside, propelled by Haruko's strong belly muscles. Momoe grunted but her sounds were muffled as the man squatted over her face and presented a long shaft to the brown-haired girl's delicate cunt. For the first time she watched, fascinated, as a long shaft disappeared into a cunt in front of her eyes. The skin marked by prominent veins bunched at the entrance to the slit, then slid inside reluctantly but inexorably. The tiny hole widened to accept the pole that seemed too large to ever find its way in. At the end of the shaft the large hair-covered scrotum, wrinkled and moving, rolled across her forehead and rested on her mouth. Her own juices rose as Haruko inserted a stiff prick deeply into her own waiting cunt.
  
  "Suck me!" the man above her commanded, and when she did not comply instantly he jogged his balls over her lips.
  
  "Lick me!" Haruko commanded, and Midori was swift to obey, searching for Haruko's clit which was pushed up and made prominent by the insertion of the back end of the double dildo.
  
  The two young girls used their mouths energetically as the other two began moving above them. Midori alternated her attention between the two prominently displayed clitorises. They mashed together, sandwiching her tongue between them, and with each motion she could feel both women coming closer to their climax. Her own cunt was filled by Uemura's lustful, rapidly moving cock. She could feel Midori's hot breath on her own clit, and occasionally the girl would hastily suck at Midori's lower lips and cunt, absorbing the juices that flowed from her.
  
  Haruko embraced Uemura passionately. He returned her embrace, tasting and touching her breasts, her face, her neck and shoulders. He used one hand to feel Midori's breasts, marveling at the contrast between hers and Haruko's, then doing the same to the anonymous girl who was lowest on the pile. He reached a pitch of excitement from which he could not retreat. Liquid boiled out of his balls and overflowed from Midori's soft cunt. Momoe hastily sucked up the delicious liquor and was rewarded with tremors of delight from Midori, who quivered deliciously above her. Instead of withdrawing Uemura continued shafting into Midori's willing cunt. This time he was slower at reaching his climax. Haruko rammed her cunt furiously into Momoe's and closed her eyes as shudders of pleasure reached her. She continued moving, delighting in the compliance of those around her. Uemura came again, small dribblets of exhausted juice running down Midori's thighs again and being absorbed by a willing Momoe unconsciously. Her own body was clutching haplessly at Haruko's hips, drawing her in as deeply as she could, gulping with her mouth for breath and with her cunt for more cock. Midori lapped quickly against her exposed cunt and Momoe rose in a passionate orgasm that almost unseated the entire pile.
  
  They fell apart, Uemura rolling tiredly onto his back, staring breathlessly at Haruko, who was rearranging the other two women to her satisfaction. She crouched over the two girls, forcing Momoe to tongue her wet cunt while Midori inserted a tongue into her waiting asshole. Haruko's eyes were closed and she forced the two women to her pleasure. She varied the posture, kneeling over Momoe's face and rubbing herself furiously to a climax over the tired but willing stranger.
  
  Midori tilted her head. "There is someone at the entrance, mistress."
  
  Haruko, still sunk into her pleasure, said, "Let one of the servants answer."
  
  "Most of them have fled, mistress." Midori persisted.
  
  "Go and answer then."
  
  Midori rose and slipped her robe on with practiced hands. "Please wait a moment," she called in a high-pitched voice, rushing through the empty mansion. "Ah, Muto-san from the magistrates," she called out gaily and bowed.
  
  In the inner room Haruko heard the words and frowned. She could not understand why the police were there.
  
  Uemura heard the words too and rose with alacrity. "It would be better if he were not to find me here." he said.
  
  "But your sword?" she asked.
  
  "I did not leave it at the entrance rack," he said with satisfaction. This unwonted caution, and his obvious reluctance to meet someone from the magistrate's office, gave Haruko some new food for thought. She pushed it into the back of her mind however. There was a more immediate concern.
  
  "Help me with this bitch," she said.
  
  They bundled Momoe, still stark naked, her cunt wet with their discharges, through a series of dark unused rooms to the entrance to a storehouse and into a large chest, slipping a peg into the hasp. She crouched there miserably in the dark as she heard Uemura and Haruko moving purposely and rapidly about the room. The sounds faded and did not return. Momoe's thoughts turned to extricating herself from her own predicament. Like most commoners, she was reluctant to face officials from the magistrate's office. She would make her way alone, if possible. She regretted only that she had not gotten to know the brown-haired maid any better. She battered at the chest lid, then turned in the narrow space and kicked with all her might. The box started to splinter.
  
  A final kick managed to crack the linchpin of the simple lock. A thrust, and Momoe found herself sprawling on the tatami. She rose quickly and looked around her. Piles of clothes and bedding lay in the unused storehouse. She found something to her liking: not too rich, but good material, and dressed herself, then slipped outside. Looking around frenziedly she saw a well-kept garden and beyond it the pitched roof of a temple. She trembled violently for a second, then made her way through the garden at a run. Her feet were bruised by the round pebbles of the walk and she feared being noticed, but there was no one about in the garden or in the rooms looking onto it.
  
  A convenient rock by the tile-topped wall offered her a height from which she managed to scramble to the top. From there she was able to drop into the unkempt space around the temple. She breathed deeply. Freedom at last. The temple appeared to have been abandoned, or at least decrepit for a great many years, but there were signs now of renewed activity. Lumber lay about, cut and mortised for joining. Wood shavings gave rise to the smell she associated with Saburo, and tears came to her eyes as she made her way through the materials, in search of shelter in the temple.
  
  She heard gruff male voices above her on the raised platform of the building. Not wishing to meet any more males for the night, she slipped quickly through a worn lattice between the building pillars and into the space beneath the temple. The earth was cold and she made her way further in, hoping for some warmth. In the dark she bumped her nose against a wooden wall. Exhausted, she huddled against the wooden barrier.
  
  Suddenly her life in the past few days came back to her. She started crying, imagining Saburo the traitor, Saburo the cause of her trouble, then imagining him comforting her with his strong arms. Lost in her reverie, her hand stroking herself between her legs, she imagined she could hear his voice.
  
  The voice persisted long after her dream began to fade. She leaned back against the wooden barrier and heard it again. Suddenly she realized that it was not all a dream, that the voice was somewhere here beside her. There were several other male voices, but Saburo's was the most prominent. She crawled along the length of the wooden barrier, scratching at the wood until she found a tiny crack. Peering through it, she cried out in surprise.
  
  A group of artisans was crouched around a series of worktables in a bare hall under the temple. Some were working at wood, others were gilding images, others engaged in lacquerware. His profile to her, Saburo was working on joining the parts of a large black-and-gilt cabinet for the temple's altar. Momoe scrabbled in her clothes, in the dirt around her, looking for something to attract his attention. There was an intensity and a thinness about him that indicated he was in some sort of trouble, and she did not know if the other men were with him or against him. The only thing she could find were some small pebbles and slivers of wood she managed to break from the barrier, She smoothed the slivers laboriously with a pebble, then inserted one of the slivers between her lips.
  
  The first puff was too weak and the sliver of wood fell short. The second struck at Saburo's apron, and he brushed it off unconsciously. The third hit his neck. He looked around in annoyance but all the other men were engaged in their work. Saburo frowned and Momoe's heart leaped at the sight of the dear boyish face. She tried again, and Saburo clenched his lips and raised his eyes angrily. He caught sight of the obi hem Momoe inserted through the crack. He blinked once, then looked around carefully. When he looked back the piece of cloth was gone.
  
  Saburo stretched casually and made his way to the wall as if needing the short stroll to clear his muscles.
  
  "Hey you, Saburo, get back to work!" The owner of the harsh voice was not visible from Momoe's vantage point.
  
  Saburo turned and gave some pacific reply, then squatted at the barrier below Momoe and went through the motions of looking for some object.
  
  "Who are you?" he asked in an undertone.
  
  "Saburo-chan, it's me, Momoe. It's me, dear. What happened to you?" Momoe could not forebear to cry out.
  
  He shushed her without raising his head. "Quiet! They will hear you. Momoe dear, how did you find me? No matter. You must help me get out."
  
  "How can I do it? And what is going on?"
  
  "Later!" he hissed.
  
  Eventually the workmen were allowed to rest from their labors and eat a supper of simple gruel and pickles. The candles were extinguished and they disposed themselves for sleep. Saburo laid himself down by the crack. When the noises of sleepy men had been replaced by snores, he whispered at the crack.
  
  "Momoe-chan, you are there?"
  
  "Yes dear," she answered with alacrity. Her heart warmed at his use of the diminutive which only parents or lovers used.
  
  "They take away all our tools," he whispered urgently. "The doors are guarded, but I have noticed the guards are often absent. You must slip into the temple and undo the lock, or whatever it is at the door." He gave her precise instructions.
  
  Heart in her mouth, Momoe crept towards the inconspicuous door in the temple that led towards the basement.
  
  Two monks were sprawled before the door. She waited in the shadows while they laughed and talked in low voices, their weapons--long naginata halberds--clinking.
  
  One of them rose and stretched. "I'm for a piss. Coming?"
  
  The other looked at the door reluctantly, then reassuring himself that it could not be opened from the inside, rose and joined his companion. They stomped outside towards the privies.
  
  Momoe slipped from her hiding place and approached the door. She struggled with the heavy bars, encouraged by Saburo's whispered instructions. Easing them to the floor, she pulled at the reluctant massive barrier.
  
  Saburo was suddenly in her arms. They clutched at one another for a brief moment, then he turned to replace the bars.
  
  "Otherwise they will start hunting us immediately. Some of the men inside rat on the others," he whispered.
  
  They started towards the temple exit, then heard the sound of returning footsteps. The monks were returning, and apparently there were others with them. Twisting aside, Saburo led her deeper into the temple, then higher up over the temporary wooden and bamboo structures, searching for a hiding place high up near the eaves.
  
  They huddled together in the tiny niche, warming one another with their bodies. Momoe felt the rise of desire at the nearness of his hard muscles. She snuggled close to him as he stroked her hair.
  
  "Poor Momoe. How did you find me?"
  
  "I searched and searched and searched," she said, only half truthfully. "It was terribly difficult, but you know I would do anything for you." All her difficulties were forgotten, moved to the back of her mind in the warmth of his embrace.
  
  His hand descended to the small of her back and she was conscious of the hardening between his legs that pushed against her belly.
  
  He bent his head and kissed her deeply. Momoe responded eagerly, her hands leading his, without conscious volition, to the folds of her kimono.
  
  He rolled her over on her back and nibbled at her ear. "Dear Momoe. I am sorry, you must be very tired. But I have not held you for so long ..."
  
  "No, it's all right dear. Do it, do it ..."
  
  He pushed his way between her legs. "It won't hurt like last time, I promise you ..."
  
  "Are you sure?" she asked tremulously, simulating innocence while a hint of laughter threatened to break through. She knew what she had to do, and shrank from him slightly. Saburo kissed her breasts and spread the lips of her cunt gently, barely inserting the tip of his member. "I'm sure, Momoe-chan. It will be a great pleasure to you now."
  
  "If you're sure ..." She spread her legs as wide as she could in the narrow corner and he pushed forward carefully. He was biting his lips and she knew he was trying to control his entry, the lust of his womanless time boiling strongly in his egg sack. The long warm pole glided up the length of her cunt. In seconds, it seemed, his seed was spurting out of his swollen balls, along the tube of his cock. Saburo felt his woman responding with delighted writhings of her hips, her own lust, pent up as long as his, finally finding release.
  
  She cried out, muffling the sound in his shoulder. Her juices welled out and flooded the joined hairs between their bellies. Unconscious almost with the happiness of finding him, she clutched his muscular frame to her delicate body. Her hips rocked back and forth as her exploding lust tried to force him deeper into her. The incredible spasms subsided and she slowly regained her senses. She looked up at him in the dark, stroking his sweating face with the satisfaction of love consummated.