The Price

------

Two hours before dawn Reina sat crossed-legged at a low table in a corner of the room away from the raised tatami where Akira lay sleeping. Her kimono remained open, it and her skin dappled with the evidence of energetic sex. She watched the sleeping courtesan, noticed the slow rise and fall of her chest, remembering how it recently heaved with the strain of the woman's fifth orgasm. She was smart, expertly trained, and discreet. Reina allowed herself a sigh of hope. Perhaps this one would last longer than the others. A competent partner was difficult to find and harder to keep.

A directional light shone on the table's polished wood, highlighting an urn engraved with the words Marie Elizabeth Dreadgrave and two dates. Loving Mother, she mouthed silently. It should also say Loving Wife, she told herself, but knew Felaria and Sara had no intention of allowing her to be associated with their mother, not after what she'd done. She should feel something: guilt; shame; anger. There was only a hole where Marie had once been.

She hefted the dull metal. It was empty, of course. Felaria and Sara had seen to it. Why, then, did they allow the urn to be taken? A stick to poke Reina? No, it would have been the obvious approach. Those two excelled at the sideways con, one never knew what they intended until it was far too late. Which meant only one thing. Marie's daughters believed the trap was set, if not already sprung.

Reina turned the urn in her hands under the light. The base was thicker than it should be, the otherwise elegant proportions marred. A fine slit circled the base; it unscrewed after she applied her considerable strength to it. A small black rectangle was inset into the base. The rectangle came free with help from a letter opener. It was connected to the unscrewed part of the base by multiple fine wires; the addition was a battery, which was why it was thicker than she expected.

Inventive, Reina thought. She'd seen a design like it two years earlier as a CIA tracking device prototype Void Dragon had stolen from the Public Security Investigation Agency, the Japanese counterpart to the American spies.

Akira stirred. Reina rose, leaving the disassembled urn on the table. She was going to set her personal best for a night of sex: a fifth ejaculation and a sixth orgasm. Natsuko had done well. She liked Akira. The woman had a fine sense of humor and a throaty laugh. She wasn't afraid to push at the older woman's limits during sex or chide her playfully afterwards. The two had actually talked.

The warmth of the device in the urn meant only one thing: it was still transmitting. Felaria and Sara were already in Kyoto--or would be soon. Life was about to get interesting.

------

"Why are we here, again?" Sara asked. She stood at one end of the Hojo rock garden in the Nanzenji temple. "Lots of nice rocks. Not much else. They don't look like tigers to me."

"Stop slouching," Felaria told her. "It won't make people stare at you less."

"I'm tired of being a prop for pictures," the younger sister complained as a pair of small schoolgirls in uniforms showed her a camera. Earlier, she'd taken a phone from another group of girls, thinking they'd asked her to take their picture. One had gently pried the smart phone from her hand and led her back to the group where, one by one, the girls had their picture taken with the tall henna gaijin who looked vaguely Japanese, even in a long western skirt, blouse, and jacket.

"Why don't they ask you?" Sara asked, voice near a whine.

"Because I speak more Japanese than you, and I tell them you like having your picture taken," Felaria answered with an evil grin.

"You bi..." Sara stopped when she realized some of the girls probably spoke English as well a she did. She settled for probing at her ear with a middle finger. Even then several of the girls laughed.

"To answer your question, we are here to wait until it's time. Don't you like visiting your heritage?" Falaria spread her arms to encompass the temple and the rest of Kyoto.

"I am proud of this half of my heritage, Fel. But I got over jet lag this morning and this is the third temple we've visited." Sara sidled to Felaria. "I'm horny. No nookie on the planes or in the airports or even at the hotel the first night. I've been looking for a quiet spot around here where we can knock off a quick one, but there are way too many people."

"Which is the point, Sara, or do I need to remind you of why we are here and what will happen if Reina knows where we are before we get to her?"

"Then can we go?" Sara asked. "The hotel is private enough, isn't it. Even if it is close to her. C'mon, Fel, afternoon delight is waiting. You know you want to."

Felaria sighed, but not in resignation. Her eyes told Sara what she wanted to know. From the Hojo garden they did a leisurely tour of the aqueduct, which made Sara twitch in anticipation and Felaria laugh. At one point she pushed Felaria behind a huge stone pillar out of sight of the other tourists. Sara braced her sister agains the rough stone, grinding their crotches together until both women were breathing hard. They stopped when Sara noticed a schoolgirl taking pictures of them. Frustrated and embarrassed, the pair left by the Sanmon Gate, skirts swirling about their calves as they walked slowly south to Keage Station, two tall, elegant women who had the features of the Japanese, but the manners of American women. They took the Tozai Line to Sanjo Station and transferred to the the Keihan Oto Line. The train took them north to Demachiyanagi Station, where they changed trains to the Eizan Electric Railway for the final trip to Yase-Hieizan-Guchi Station. The ride took thirty minutes to travel the seven kilometers, during which they sat silently side by side, happy to know in Japan two women holding hands was not considered perverted. They walked quickly to the XIV Kyoto Yase-Rikyu Hotel where they had a room on the third floor in a wing giving them a view southeast towards the river and the Rurikoin temple--and the employee dormitory.

The door to the room clicked closed with the kind of noise reserved for exclusive places to stay. The next noise was one reserved for places where rooms were rented by the hour. Sara slammed Felaria against the door, tearing open her blouse.

"Hey, I just bought..." Felaria started to say when Sara pressed their lips together. Jackets went to the floor, buttons flew across the room, seams ripped. Within a minute the women wore only the rags of their blouses and tattered underwear. Their aggressive undressing highlighted the difference between the fraternal twins. Not only was Felaria an inch taller at 6' 1" and slightly heavier than Sara at 185 pounds, she was hermaphrodite where her younger sister was female. When clothed, it was nearly impossible tell them apart unless it was known who was taller. Naked, Felaria's eight-inch cock and robin's egg-sized balls contrasted with Sara's dark thatch of pubic hair and prominent clitoris. Felaria's pussy was hidden beneath the balls in an equally dense mass of curly hairs.

The toned, well-muscled bodies--here the women were more like their mother than their tall, rangy father--danced an erotic tango across the floor and over the back of a couch to land on a rug with Sara on top. The younger woman hooked her sister's leg over her shoulder in a scissors trib, grinding her pussy against Felaria's, while the erect cock waved between them.

Sara insisted the first orgasm always be pussy to pussy; she got her way most of the time. Felaria was content to let the woman work herself into a sweat, it made fucking easier when her sister was wet and a bit tired. Sara got her aroused clit nestled within Felaria's vaginal lips, eyes closed, mouth open, as she drove herself to climax. She slapped her sister's erection with a forehand-backhand motion, making the hard shaft sway even more, pre-cum oozing from the slit to pool in Felaria's navel.

"That all you got?" the older sister said, wanting something more.

Sara's answering punch flattened the cock against hard abs, causing Felaria to exhale sharply. More cum flowed from her cock as she reached up to dig her fingers into a nice-sized breast.

"That's more like it, babe."

Sara winced; she raised her fist again.

"Not the face. We have to go out in public." Felaria gave her sister a lopsided grin. "Later, when this is over, you and I can celebrate with a couple of black eyes and split lips."

With a returned grin, Sara punched Felaria in the breast, rotating her fist to make sure the nipple was properly twisted. She leaned forward, increasing the pressure on their crotches, keeping her hips in constant motion. The scent of heavy sex floated through the air as she neared climax.

Hands lightly slapped cheeks, fists pummeled ribs and abs, the women's breathing became erratic. Sara's motion faltered as she shuddered, nearly falling to her side. Only Felaria's leg over her shoulder kept the woman upright.

"Fuck, that was good," Sara mumbled. "Not the best ever, but close. I like starting out where we get each other's attention."

Her eyes focused on the hard cock near her crotch, a small smear of semen on Felaria's stomach. She poked it with a finger; the cock bounced, hard, aroused, definitely not post-orgasm.

"Hey, you didn't come," Sara complained. "We always come together the first time."

"No," her sister answered. "You always come first. Well, mostly. You're just too foggy to notice I haven't. If I did come with you, we'd be cuddled up for a while, you sensitive, me soft, saying stupid things to each other when we could be doing this instead."

Felaria flipped Sara onto her back, spreading the stunned woman's legs to expose her dripping cunt. She put the glistening head of her cock to the opening, teasing her sister by rubbing the glans against the still-tender skin. Each time the younger woman pushed her hips forward to get the hard shaft inside her, Felaria pulled it away, trailing streamers of pre-cum drooling onto the elegant carpet. Is there a cleaning fee? Sara wondered as her sister brought her cock close again.

"We gonna fuck or not?" Sara asked, mouth in a pout.

"We are fucking, babe. When are you going to learn really good sex isn't always shoving something hard into something soft and seeing who gets bone bruises?"

"But you like it, Fel."

"Yeah, but not all the time. Sometimes I want a tingle in my crotch that stays for more than thirty seconds. Unlike you."

Sara opened her mouth for an inventive insult, stopping at a wide-lipped 'O' when Felaria slid the large cock into her pussy. The sisters lay wrapped closely, arms and legs entangled, tongues dueling wetly. Sara wallowed in the sensation of a hot cock pulsing slowly inside her for several minutes, nipples pressed flat, her mouth around a slick tongue, heels rubbing Felaria's ass and pussy. Her sister wriggled, content to be on top but not in control. It was bliss. Only one thing would make it better.

Sara flexed her Kegel muscles, rippling them along Felaria's cock. Her sister moaned into her mouth, hips pumping in a strong rhythm. "Oh, yeah, Fel," she murmured. "That's it. Fuck me, babe. Fuck me."

Sweat and cum mixed in a heady stew as the women rolled across the carpet, stopping only when they bumped into furniture in the Western part of the room, then tumbling in another direction, much like a deranged robot vacuum leaving smears instead of cleaning them up.

Minutes later, Felaria tensed, her cock throbbing rapidly inside Sara. "Oh, fuck, no, wait, hold it, damn it, I want to come, too. Fuck, Fel, don't... aww, crap."

Felaria gasped, clutching her sister hard as she came, pumping gouts of cum into a disappointed pussy. They lay together for a moment, Felaria basking in afterglow, Sara growing frustrated. She levered herself on top, still impaled on her sister's cock, wriggling her hips, searching for the companion orgasm which eluded her. When she pulled off the erection, cum dripped from her pussy on the cock, the crotch hair, the abs in a steady stream. Then she noticed.

"You're soft," she said, mild outrage coloring her words.

"Yeah. So? I'm happy. I came and you didn't. Earlier, you came and I didn't. In a while we can fuck again and maybe we'll come at the same time. What's the problem?"

Sara didn't know what the problem was, except she expected more, a mutual orgasm to seal the reason they were in Kyoto, something they were going to do it together. Instead, they'd come separately and it upset her. The stupid grin on Felaria's face upset her more. She slapped it. Hard.

"I told you, bitch, not in the face." Felaria punched Sara on the right side, below the rib cage, a perfect liver shot.

"That didn't hurt..." Sara began, defiant until the breath left her, leaving only pain and a gaping attempt to inhale without success. She fell forward into her sister's waiting grasp.

She struggled, both angry and afraid. Sara knew they were both stronger than they looked. She also knew it was hard to recover from being hit by someone who was nasty enough to cause pain and leave very few marks. They'd done it to each other before; she'd made Felaria angry several times, the first when they were in middle school. The bruises lasted for a week.

"No more hitting the face," Sara grumbled when she could breathe. She felt the cock stir beneath her.

"You ready again?" she asked, "because I'm not. Give me a few."

"What are the rules, Sara?" Felaria cooed, which was always a bad sign. "Once we start, we don't stop until neither of us can go on. The fact you can't and I can only means you're bottom this time. My turn to have fun."

"C'mon, Fel. A couple of minutes. Really." Sara twitched internally. She knew the rules. She was the one who set them years ago when Felaria wanted a break and she didn't. From then on, they quoted the rules when one got tired or sore. It was their way of showing toughness, of showing they were together, of proving neither could completely dominate the other despite years of trying. She resigned herself to getting fucked, hoping to recover soon enough to enjoy it.

Sara found herself spooned in front of her sister, the erect cock poking at her pussy. She was penetrated--didn't feel a thing, damn it; stretched backward with a hand under her chin--felt OK; and teased with a slick finger on her clit--bringing welcome sparks behind yer eyes. Felaria's cock throbbed inside her, strong legs wrapped around her thighs, spreading them. The hand cupped her chin, moved fingers into her mouth; she sucked them. The hand on her clit began a rhythm she and Felaria had worked out the first winter when their mother left them for week with a friend who didn't care what they did as long as they didn't make trouble. Lips and teeth closed on her earlobe She wasn't tired anymore, wasn't too sensitive, wasn't ready to quit.

She laid back, letting Felaria do whatever she wanted, knowing she would later do the same to her sister. They would keep doing it until they passed out.

All fucking night.

------

The next night, two shadows crossed the train tracks between the hotel and the dormitory. The Void Dragon guards who watched the ground floor saw nothing, or, if they did, thought it the flickering of a bush in the wind. On the third floor balcony, one of the guards thought he heard a noise. He called for help. Three men searched the balcony, making sure to stay away from the glass doors at the end; Shirokami-sama had made it clear she wasn't to be disturbed. They found nothing except a piece of loose concrete. Twenty minutes later, all was quiet.

------

Reina and Akira sat in each other's lap on the futon, right leg over left leg. An electric heater chortled in a corner, bringing fitful warmth to the room; neither woman noticed. They were dappled in sweat and cum--semen and pussy--also soaking their open kimonos. Reina's cock was mostly hard; her last orgasm was several hours earlier. She hadn't bothered trying to come, she'd been too busy making Akira moan and tremble. The woman was different, Reina realized. Unlike her previous companions, she wanted nothing from her except to give and receive pleasure. Reina didn't clearly recall the last time she'd fucked anyone for the sheer joy of it, she was always hoping the next climax would make her forget, clear her mind of everything clouding her judgement. This night she'd laughed and cried and felt her body shiver in a way reminding her of what she'd lost, and the price she'd paid because of it. Still, she was relaxed, aroused, entertained, entranced.

Akira started the session the previous day with a full body massage with intense and extended oral stimulation, which meant she licked Reina's cock and cunt until the older woman begged her to stop. From there, it was an unspoken contest to see who would quit first. The only time Reina believed she held the advantage was after a sloppy combination fuck and cunnilingus that left Akira shivering on the futon, curled into the fetal position, hands cupping her spasming pussy. When Reina tried to stroke her she shied away with muffled whimper. When she recovered, she knelt before Reina, bowing her apology.

"I am ashamed at my intolerable behavior, Shirokami-sama. I neglected my training. I should have maintained more control. Please know what I did was inexcusable. I will leave and beg Natsuko-sama for forgiveness."

Reina put a hand on her thigh. "Don't go, Akira. Stay. Please. I am not offended. If anything I must apologize to you for being inconsiderate. I lost myself in making you climax without thinking you might be too aroused. Sit. I will bring tea."

Tea was hours ago. Since then, the women had brought each other to shuddering climaxes until the present, where Akira was nodding off and Reina was beginning to worry she'd misjudged Marie's daughters; they might be more devious than she anticipated. By her reckoning, they should have found her by now.

She left Akira breathing softly in a deep sleep on the futon, returning to the raised dais, legs crossed, listening, waiting. A troubling thought crossed her mind: she hadn't planned on Akira being present. Felaria and Sara were essentially unknown to her, they might try to kill Akira along with her. The idea of being without the sleeping woman caused her stomach to clench. This was worrisome, she wasn't usually so sentimental.

A cool breeze blew against her bare skin. She rose to her knees, closing the kimono, to see the large sliding glass door open. It was always kept closed and locked; the guards were determinedly--but politely--insistent. She waited with increasing impatience, a feeling also mostly foreign to her, while listening carefully. She heard only the sound of the wind and the delicate chirps and ticks of the electronic devices around her, mostly from the small kitchen. Minutes stretched by without a change. If this was a game of Go, the joseki--opening moves--had started. Felaria and Sara were securing one corner, attempting to force her into the middle. Eventually, she stood, treading carefully to the door. It was obvious it was now her move.

The breeze fluttered the long kimono. The moon, already past zenith, moved inexorably to the western horizon. Reina wondered if the girls had chosen the time deliberately to emphasize the danger they posed. Without crossing the threshold, she waited and listened, standing close to the middle part of the door, two large panes of bullet-proof glass protecting her right side. She glanced at the lock; it was unbroken, meaning it was opened with skill and finesse. A noise to her right interrupted her thoughts. She moved to her left out of reflex, immediately regretting it. She stood in the center of the opening.