text: Okiku thought long and hard about the best way to go about finding the kidnappers. Obviously, what she needed was some bait. Then again, she had to find out where the kidnappers were working. Knowing her temperament, Jiro had made her swear she would not attack the men alone. She was pleased with his concern, yet annoyed at the implication of protectiveness. The big lump was more in need of protection than she had ever been.
  
  She dressed with care. Light mesh armour went on under dark pantaloons and sark. Over these she wore a kimono slightly thicker than necessary for the warm weather. She checked her bag of tricks and regretfully left her sword-staff behind. It would not fit the role she had to play.
  
  At dusk a slightly inebriated young widow was complaining loudly that she was lonely and alone in drinking places around the Kitano shrine: the site of several earlier reported disappearances of young women. Several men took the hint, but she brushed them off, and on one occasion had to run off into the dark to avoid a too-persistent suitor.
  
  At last, after innumerable cups of bad sake, most of which ended covertly on the floor, she struck lucky. A heavy-set man in simple workman's clothing had been watching her in one of the drinking stalls as she loudly related her imaginary troubles. He was present at the next bar she came to. This time he was not alone.
  
  She left into the dark, weaving slightly. The two followed. Fewer people were moving about and Okiku dipped into an alley. It was a matter of a second to drop her bright colored kimono. She stuffed it regretfully under a house, then leaped lightly, dressed all in black, onto the house's low roof. Two figures came around the corner.
  
  "Where is she?" the slim one whispered.
  
  "Stupid, she got away from us." The other voice came from a burlier man who moved with the lightness of a professional thief. They sped to the far end of the alley. Okiku dropped to the alleyway behind them and followed. The three of them skulked about the neighborhood for some minutes. At length the two potential kidnappers gave up.
  
  "Lets get out of here. We'll try again tomorrow. The boss will be angry though."
  
  The men split up and Okiku followed the bulkier leader. They ended up in a small well-kept house among a welter of similar ones in an artisan neighborhood. Okiku climbed lightly to the roof of a neighboring house. The grey tiles felt familiar beneath her feet. She inched along until she could see inside the compound. There did not appear to be any place to securely hold a prisoner: the house was built as simply as all the rest. She leaped the wall and began prowling around.
  
  A maidservant tripped out of the genkan, then turned to say good night to her mistress. It appeared that the slaver lived an exemplary home life. Okiku grinned. Not unlike herself and Jiro.
  
  She waited for the house to settle down then dropped to the ground, silent as a butterfly alighting on a flower. With a quick twist of a small tool extracted from her pouch, she lifted one of the external door-shutters that ran around the house and slipped inside. She felt carefully for nightingale floors, ankle-breaker holes and other traps. Listening quietly she could hear the owner and his wife, both snoring in different keys.
  
  Okiku prowled through the tiny house, not finding anything that could in any way be termed suspicious. She wondered if perhaps she was mistaken. She paused before the room in which the owner and his wife were sleeping and slipped inside. Just then the man's snoring stopped. She crouched quickly so as not to be outlined against the white paper of the shoji. The man's breathing indicated he was awake. He stretched and one of his hands touched Okiku's sleeve in the dark. He was still sleepy and his reflexes slow, but he would soon become conscious of the fact that there was an object where none should be. For a brief second Okiku wondered whether she should kill him. Then a better solution occurred to her. She crawled rapidly to his side, flipped up the light quilt and burrowed her head inside. She found his crotch without any difficulty. The man's hands found her head and he guided her to his unfurling cock.
  
  Okiku laved it with her tongue and the member began to swell.
  
  He started pulling her towards him, intending a sixtynine position. She resisted, knowing he would find her armour. Then the idea began titillating her. She shrugged rapidly out of her pantaloons and rolled the light flexible armour high up her waist.
  
  The kidnapper nuzzled at her wet sweaty cunt. Apparently he was so sleepy, or so unused to his wife's smell that he could detect no difference. Okiku, crouched fearfully on his face, began enjoying the situation. He was inexperienced but lustful and his tongue stroked the entire length of her pussy. He caught her hairs in his teeth and pulled on them, then sought out the tiny button of her clitoris. His thick mobile lips sucked at the fleshy pearl and Okiku had to struggle to control the sounds of her delight. Instead she applied herself vigorously to the head of his cock. He had a pleasant member, she decided. Not too thick or large, yet substantial enough to give her mouth pleasure. She lavished her best caresses on it, licking delicately below the head, then sucking in the shaft as far as it went. With her left hand she stroked the length of the knobby shaft and delicately lifted the hair sack that contained his soft jewels. He slobbered at her cunt, grasping her slim ass and pulling it to his mouth. She sucked in the entire length of the shaft and worked her throat expertly. He jerked quickly and moaned into her cunt, sending her into a paroxysm of lust. She ground her hips into his face as his come spurted luxuriously down her throat in ever diminishing loads.
  
  The man settled back onto his hard cushion and Okiku rolled rapidly off him, hoping he was not the kind to talk in bed. He rolled over contentedly and Okiku crept soundlessly around the sleeping figure of the wife in the neighboring futon. The burly kidnapper rolled over again and fondly patted his wife, thanking her for the pleasure she had given him all unknowing. Okiku thankfully resheathed her dagger. Had he raised an alarm, he would have had to change his tone in the middle of it. The knife at the root of his manhood had added spice to her enjoyment of him. She chuckled to herself as she moved silently out of the room and into the night.