text: Isei could have walked along the main road leading from the north, but the mountains, as usual, called to him more than the shores of broad Lake Biwa. Between the pine and larch he could see the shining blue waters of the lake. He knew that soon he would reach some path leading up and over the mountains in the direction he wanted to go. In the meantime he was fascinated and somewhat fearful of the broad expanse of flat water.
  
  Before him he could see a figure dressed in black and white, wearing a wide-brimmed hat. A priest then. One of the lowland shavers, not a hairy kebozu priest, the only ones he had had any contact with in his mountain fastness when they came to serve the population. He kept his distance. One never knew when a priest would curse one.
  
  They maintained the distance throughout the day. At noontime the priest stopped to rest way ahead of the forester. There had been something peculiar about the way the priest moved, and Isei stooped to examine the tracks of the prelate's straw sandals. Puzzled, he stood up. The steps in the leafy mould were the in-turned ones of a woman! A woman priest? Isei shook his head in bewilderment. He left the narrow path and climbed up the mountain, circling down further to catch a glimpse and satisfy his curiosity. He caught sight of the black-and-white robes--without the priest. A small rill ran over the path. Below the path the water formed a shallow pool. Isei's sharp ears caught the sound of splashing. He grinned. The priest was having a bath then. He slipped closer, wondering if priests were built like other men. This one at least wasn't, and Isei stopped his advance, petrified. Slowly the truth dawned on him. Not a priest. A woman disguised as a priest, even to the shaving of her hair. She was probably a felon escaping justice. He watched her bathe herself, panting almost audibly, running his tongue around his lips. This was the longest he had ever been without a woman.
  
  The argument he had with himself was short. She would hardly dare complain, and ... and ... in the meantime, as he secured his matchlock in a hiding place and eased closer, he saw that she was bathing herself with slow, tantalizing, almost ritualized motions. She had a full smooth body, its curves accentuated oddly by her shaven head. She was sliding her palms slowly over her flanks, then stroking her breasts, pinching the nipples. One hand dipped between her thighs, splashing cool water into the dark shadow.
  
  The sound of her splashing hid his approach. He stayed for a moment, slipping easily out of his own clothing while she splashed water onto her face, then raised her closed eyes to the sun. Then Isei charged through the shallow pool. The shaven-headed woman turned to face him. Her alarm returned to calm instead of fright when she saw the cause of the noise. His stiff erect prong leading, Isei splashed towards her. He reached for her slick pale body crying victory when her face crinkled in disgust and ducked under his reaching arms, tripping him into the water in the process. He pulled her slick body into the water with him, and she did not resist, only rolling him about with her.
  
  They rose together and he groped for her, panicked that she might run. She smiled at him through the water drops that beaded his sight.
  
  "Phew. You stink," she said firmly, not resisting when he reached for her again.
  
  Taken aback by her simple statement he asked, "Stink?"
  
  "Stink! Smell bad! I won't have you that way."
  
  "Have me?" he asked again.
  
  "Do you have to repeat every word?" she asked pettishly. She caught sight of his semi-erect pole and reached for it. "Wash. I won't have a man that smells as bad as you do."
  
  Isei soon found himself being laved by her skillful hands. The rub of sand, then moss, on his skin offered a soothing luxurious sensation he had never felt before. And gradually her movements brought about an exciting fire in his loins that seemed to burn brighter than it ever had before. She bent forward and sucked lightly at the tip. Bemused and rather embarrassed by her action, Isei said his first words for some time.
  
  "You are not really a priest. What are you hiding from, eh?"
  
  Much to his regret she raised her head from his erect pole and regarded him with surprise. "I am a nun, of course." She noted his puzzled look and added, "A sort of female priest. Haven't you seen one before?"
  
  "Ah! A shaman! But where's your divining bow then?" he asked suspiciously.
  
  "No, not a seer. A nun. We devoted ourselves to religion. I am from a nunnery--sort of a monastery but only for women--called Dosojinin. I'm on my way to the monasteries of Mount Hiei. Who are you?"
  
  "Isei," he answered shortly, reaching for her and leading her unresisting to the bank. "From the mountains." He pulled her to the ground and spread her legs, then knelt between them. She looked at him expectantly. He applied the tip of his prick to her lower lips and pushed into her without further ado. Her face registered disappointment. Her cunt was damp and soon gave off the oils that made it a delight to its owner and possessor. Isei bucked into her, his rump rising and falling with the speed of his movement. He found her bald-shaven head an added attraction, though, since he was interested in her lower parts and not her top, it would not have mattered anyway.
  
  He glared at her face lost in his pleasure as his climax approached. Slick as an eel, she pulled out from under him and squeezed the base of his prick with a strong hand. He groaned, then yelped in frustration, then turned to her furiously.
  
  "Wait!" she commanded.
  
  She rolled him onto his back, stroking his limp cock softly until the pain passed. Then she did something Isei had never imagined before. She took his cock in her mouth. For just a brief second Isei thought he was about to die. The pleasure was so unexpectedly intense he almost spurted his seed then and there. The nun removed her head, then mounted him. Her legs well spread, he could see the length of her cunt, its prominent hood and full red slit, as she lowered herself onto his rampant prick.
  
  She moved slowly over him, guiding his hands about her body. First her flattened, slightly sagging breasts, then her firm rounded belly, then finally to the curve of her lips where his cock disappeared into her. Her mode of making love was entertaining, Isei decided. His enthusiasm was soon lit and he began exploring her on his own. He lifted and weighed her breasts when he discovered that gave her pleasure, tickled the nubbin of flesh hidden beneath the hood and was rewarded with contractions of her vagina around his erect tool. With her hand she directed him to insert a finger into her cunt along with his cock. Her powerful hole relaxed and accommodated both his digits, the bony one and the one of pure muscle. She stroked her sides and flanks, and encouraged him to do the same. She writhed deeper on his cock in reward, driving him deeper into her depths. His hand came around to her buttocks and she leaned forward to allow him easier reach. They were pleasant to squeeze, and becoming adventurous and curious, he inserted a finger between the half-moon. She encouraged him by widening her thighs and licking his chest with tiny touches of her tongue. His questing finger penetrated the tight rings of her ass and he was surprised to feel his shaft of gristle beyond a thin membrane.
  
  Without removing him from herself she rolled them both over. Isei started pumping slowly, and she urged him on. Faster and faster he thrust into her welcoming body. She responded with movements of her hips that seemed to grip the length of his cock as it had never been gripped before. Her legs went over his back and locked behind him and her fingers scratched at his back, his nape, his ass, inside his anus, awakening feelings he had never known before.
  
  "Now! Now!" the nun commanded, leeching to his neck with her mouth, her entire body glued frantically to his. Isei contracted his balls in a mighty explosion. A wash of boiling liquid rushed up his cock causing him to loose all sense and thought. He was a tiny mote flickering and shattering blindly into pleasure. The nun met him with a force of her own, her body and his melding into a single organism. They lay as one for a long moment, and then Isei, his pleasure spent, moved to extract himself from her embrace. She opened her eyes and looked at him accusingly, then allowed him to go. Streams of white liquid splashed from her opened channel to the ground.
  
  Isei rolled onto his back and the nun rose on one elbow. She examined him minutely, then stroked the length of his body. He tolerated her touch, though what he really wanted was to go to sleep. She smiled knowingly, then suddenly pinched the skin of his belly. He jerked and turned to her furiously.
  
  "There is much you do not know about love," she said conversationally.
  
  "Why, weren't you satisfied?" he almost snarled. This was the first time any woman had doubted his prowess.
  
  "No." she said simply.
  
  "You certainly dropped your moisture," he pointed out truthfully enough.
  
  "Yes. But that does not mean I was satisfied. For instance, why did you not stay with me after you had finished?"
  
  "Huh?" he rose on his elbow as well and peered at her. "But we'd just finished!"
  
  "Not at all," she smiled. "There is before, there is the middle, and there is after, like in all things. Zanshin, perfect finish, is as important as all the other elements of lovemaking."
  
  He considered her words thoughtfully, then snorted his disbelief. "Fucking is just fucking," he asserted.
  
  The nun looked at him severely, then began dressing. "I will teach you," she said serenely.
  
  Isei grunted his disbelief and began dressing too.
  
  "I will go with you," the nun said determinedly. "You have the potential of salvation and I, as the rules of my order dictate, must help you on your way."
  
  He scowled at her. "I don't need any help."
  
  "Yes you do," she said, following him back to the path. "You are searching and cannot find, and my way is the only one for you. L will instruct you in the way of tantara and you will be saved. For an untutored savage you have a remarkable capacity for the joining of female and male. But it is untutored and needs improving."
  
  "No one's complained yet," he snorted.
  
  "Possibly because they were untutored like yourself, possibly because they were too polite. But we of the Dosojinin know that the true Way is above politeness. You have the quality. Many men think quantity is what counts, poor things. We women are well ahead on that score, and know the way better than men. I shall be your tutor on that way."
  
  He grunted and walked away, hoping to lose her along the path. Between the trees he saw a phenomenon he had heard of but never seen: a large seemingly endless sheet of water.
  
  Never having seen such a large body of water, Isei angled towards the shore of the lake. The waters stretched off into the horizon, dotted here and there with the white sails and brown hulls of fishing craft. Rather than forest, Isei found himself soon enough walking through cultivated areas. He reached a path leading from one village to another and followed it, hoping to find a farmer who might be prevailed upon to trade for some vegetables. He eyed the full fields hungrily. There would be good eating here, if only he could get some.
  
  Looking at the field and eagerly expecting a farmer, Isei suddenly found himself facing a young samurai intent on his own business. The man was dressed in scruffy hakama and worn straw sandals. His swords were plain and his entire look was shabby. Nonetheless he strode along arrogantly, a grass hat tilted over his shaven forehead. Seeing him, Isei knew trouble was on its way. He looked around for some place to step off the path and kneel or fade into the forest. To his right was a tall embankment, to his left a drop into a low-lying field of taro. He stepped tentatively and nervously forward, hoping to find a broadening in the path.
  
  From the look on the samurai's face Isei knew he was in for a hard time. The man smelled ready to vent some deep-seated rage on anyone crossing his path.
  
  The samurai saw Isei on the path before him. He recognized him immediately as a forest nomad, a low-class fellow. One barely within the confines of the law.
  
  The samurai's left eyelid twitched. "Get out of my way, filth."
  
  Isei stared at the warrior without moving for a second, then bowed and moved to the side. The samurai grimaced and strode forward, gathering the skirts of his wide hakama trousers. His attention was on Isei and not on his footing. He tripped, and the straw rope of his sandal tore. His foot twisted and he came down heavily towards Isei, kneeling at the side of the path.
  
  The samurai executed a perfect roll as Isei twitched aside reflexively. The warrior rose snarling.
  
  "You bastard sanka," he said, drawing his sword. "You tripped me!"
  
  Under normal circumstances, Isei would have turned and run. But he was tired, and moreover, he had suddenly had his fill of overbearing plains people. The stone flew from his hand as he came to his feet, grazing the smooth brow and disarranging the topknot still further. The samurai charged with a shout of anger. Sparks leaped forth as the katana's blade clashed against the heavy metal of Isei's woodsman's hatchet. Isei twisted the tool and the notch at the base of the square-cut blade near the handle almost forced the sword from the samurai's grasp. Isei brought his knee up sharply into the samurai's unprotected crotch, but the warrior twisted away, trying to get some distance from his opponent.
  
  For a long moment the two men stood facing one another. The samurai suddenly realized that the fur-clad mountain man would not be easy prey. The law might be on his side--after all, he was entitled to cut down any attacking commoner, not to mention outcasts like the sanka--but his opponent seemed ready to give battle. And to turn and run was unthinkable.
  
  The samurai slid forward, stabbing two-handed at Isei's exposed midriff. Isei twisted aside and sucked in his belly. The curved blade scraped along his tough vine belt and was deflected. The samurai recovered and raised the blade to eye level preparatory to delivering a cut to Isei's shoulder when the heavy nata leaped forward. For a moment the reality failed to register with the warrior. He stared stupidly at the stumps of his wrists as hands and sword fell to the mossy ground. Two bright spouts of blood shot from his cut wrists. He stared at them in fascination as his blood pressure dropped precipitously, then fell to the ground. Isei watched him impassively for a long moment, then set about disposing of the body. He knew and feared the penalty for what he had done, justified as it seemed to him.
  
  "That was well done. And evil too," a feminine voice broke into Isei's black thoughts. He spun around in surprise. It was the nun.
  
  "Who are you?" he snarled fearfully. If she told what she had seen ... And she had been following him ...
  
  "One who wishes you no harm." She smiled enticingly. "Did you know that you have many good qualities?"
  
  He grunted.
  
  "Yes," she continued. "I will need to help you develop them ..."
  
  "I don't need any developing," he snarled.
  
  "We all do," she said pacifically. "I meant, however, that you are blessed with a remarkable sexual constitution, one that needs more polish ..."
  
  He drew back from her in alarm, instinctively fumbling for his crotch. He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes, fearful she was some female succubus: a hollow woman, or a ghost.
  
  "My fucking is my own concern," he almost whined. "Let me go!"
  
  "But you don't do it to yourself, do you?"
  
  "Nnno," he said, "Except sometimes." His mouth snapped shut. Why was he talking about himself to a fake-priest?
  
  "Then it involves someone else too?"
  
  "They like it well enough, those cunts."
  
  "Yes, but they should like it better."
  
  He laughed. "Why should I care? I have my fun."
  
  "Ah," she said. "The buddhas and the kami have commanded us to ease our burden in this lifetime, and the teaching of our sect demands full release. Only then can one be truly free from desire. Desiring someone or something and not being released inhibits buddha-nature ... Remember the woman in the mountain!!"
  
  He turned surlily, upset by her glib tongue, and walked off. He was loth to admit to himself that there was something in what she said. She hurried after him, still spouting the nonsense that drew attention to his own ignorant state.