Waiting for the Yisun's Bloom

"Blossom..." I swallowed.

"We might've missed a nick," she said. "Help me with the armour." Her tender fingers lingered under the coarse straps. I groaned under her and had my shame pressed against her. The last lacquered plate clanked to the floor, and my charge opened my robe. "Looks fine to me," Blossom said. Our hands met at the hem of my pants, and she pulled them down. "Very fine indeed."

"Blossom! My -- my..." My voice trailed off.

"Shh! Do not be ashamed. You did well today, and you deserve your rest. Go on, touch it. I am no harp maiden, but I hope you will accept a handful of my kindness."

The ribbon around her waist, bound into a complicated bow on her back, gave. She revealed the cunning illusion with a quick flip of her hand, and the dropping robe revealed her naked body. I gripped air. My naked cock strained close to her pale knees, and her snowy mountains heaved, but I stayed my hand.

"Do it. Touch yourself." She smiled. "And you may touch me."

I groped her breasts. She moaned but then slid away. I caressed her silken hair, and she beamed up at me. She ran a tender finger over the length of my erection, and then placed a kiss on the tip. A fleck of red and a trail of spit remained. The first bloom of my white loam stained her perfect lips, and she smiled a mocking smile.

"Thorn. Go on and touch yourself. I am no half-woman, and I have indulged you long enough." She trailed her tongue up from the root and finished with another kiss. "Though I do hope you find my face inviting." She opened her lips and grinned up at me. "Come for me."

I roared. My cock strained in my fist, and I pumped faster and faster. "Fuck!" Mounting pressure, and Blossom's vixen smile, edged me on. "I'm gonna..."

"Fuck me!" She screamed.

"The? I?"

I could no longer hold back. Confusion washed over me, and I came over her. A glowing sheen flushed her face, radiant under the loamy rain, but her eyes had moved. She was watching the wall to my room. I, confused, looked over as well. The shadows behind the paper did not move, but something snapped. A bell jingled, and someone's sudden footfalls hastened to the far-side door.

"Get her." She pushed me upright.

I jumped, then stumbled. My cock, not yet soft, slapped against my naked legs. I grasped for the door separating our rooms, newly repaired, and pulled. It did not open fast, wood scraping over wood, and I feared that she might escape.

The shadow inside had almost made it out into the hallway, but she too struggled to open the door in time. I rushed her. She tried to slip through the crack, but I caught her. The collar of her skintight dress, fashioned from dark silk, ripped open. I grabbed her throat and threw her backwards. A dark cloth mask covered her face completely, but her movements had seemed familiar.

"Kill her," Blossom said. She hid her face, cleaned in a hurry, behind her open fan, and she had ordered her dress with remarkable speed.

"I..." I hesitated. My charge had given a clear command, but my loam-trapped mind struggled to catch up. I had found a woman, a Spider spy, in my room. And Blossom had known. The form struggled against my grip, and a familiar hand scratched my naked arm. I recognised her smell. Thread.

"Kill her."

The woman could not speak but struggled with feral determination. I increased the pressure. A strange groan escaped her throat, and she tried for a final, desperate kick. Then her windpipe broke with a sickening crunch. She stared at me with her eyeless face, her head mangled to the side. I dropped the corpse.

Blossom removed the mask, and we did find Thread's face, blue-lipped, under it. I stepped back, disgusted. "Clean yourself and get dressed," she said. "I will call the guards." She pointed her fan down at my bedding, and at my opened pillowbook on top.

My charge left me, and I cleaned and dressed myself. After a while, a singular guard appeared. He, keeping a respectful distance, led me back to the same cell deep under the keep. I did not wait long, and soon the Lady Spider appeared again. She wore her courtly dress. A strange hint of nothing, and a sharp contrast to the harsh environs. Her mask resembled a snarling demon, a dangerous monster cast from gold and set with precious stones. "Thorn," she said, "speak."

I lowered my head. "We found her in my room, uninvited."

Moonsend stayed silent, but I said nothing more. "I see," she said, "I see. Please accept my sincere apology for this incident. Thread was a junior courtier, a courtesan. Our house values ambition, but this virtue can blind the young -- and the foolish. Again, my apologies. No protector had been assigned to her, and the circumstances seem plain to me. I will not hold you any longer, and the rest of your stay will be pleasant. No one shall molest you while you are under my roof."

"Thank you, Lady Spider," I said with the guileless self-assurance of the simple warrior.

"You will want to cleanse yourself. I grant you leave of the Keep, and use of the springs. Thorn."

I had not even thought of her death staining my arm and my soul. "Yes," I said. "Thank you, Lady Spider." I bowed, and she left. The door remained opened, and I walked through and back. I reached my room, and I saw Blossom's sleeping form through the thin wall. The day had been long, and I fell asleep with shocking ease.

That night, my dreams, sweet at first, turned to nightmares. I woke earlier than usual. The stench of sweat clung to my body, and my hand cramped as soon as I touched the blades. Someone had returned the shellbreaker to its stand. The metal had been cleaned, but whoever did it had missed some. I washed Stinger's blood away, and I polished and oiled the weapon, again and again. When Blossom woke, bathed in sunlight, I had not even started my training.

"I will call for Ally," my charge said. She entered my room wearing only her white bedrobe, the thin fabric wrinkled and sticking to her body. "She will help with the preparations; we cannot trust any of the Spider's servants."

"Thank you, Blossom, my Lady." I returned the weapon to its place and searched for my sinner's suit. The drab garb dangled uncomfortably from my extremities and scratched my sleep-worn skin. "I feel like a mummer, only playing at seeking the cleansing spring," I said, but Blossom had left.

Ally giggled. "You cast a dreadful figure, Lord Tsum'Ein. Your weapons are shiny, Lord Tsum'Ein, and you are..." she paused. "No one would dare doubt your purpose, Lord Tsum'Ein." She bowed. "I shall fetch your stick, and do you wish for meat? Anything else?"

"Meat? Yes, meat. Meat and the stick, and... And nothing else. Then pack my white dress, my soul, and sandals." I looked her over and found her as appealing as ever. "Speaking of purpose -- would you be free this morning?"

"Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein, but I have been forbidden from accompanying you. You will have to carry this burden without me." She bowed again. Blossom's room seemed empty, but I knew of the harp maiden's loyalty to my charge.

"I see."

She bowed a final time and left to fetch my orders. I mumbled a curse. My cock itched, and so I pulled it out. The women's smell lingered, and loamsome thoughts, befitting the day and road, made it harden. I faced away from Blossom's room and tried to remember the pieties.

A mocking bird sang outside, and I remembered. A human bandit had been my first kill. His gang of lowlifes, armoured in hides and armed with farm implements, had laired deep inside the Scars, close to Tiger lands. They preyed on isolated farmsteads and dishonoured the ancestors to escape pursuit. The restless dead raged at the insolence, and we brought a priest with us to ward us from their righteous indignation. And two harp maidens.

The young soil-born did not die well. I was young then, and unused to killing. He wrestled the shellbreaker from my grasp and, dying, covered me in blood and offal. The priest saw the mark on my soul, or so he said. My companions laughed and offered their congratulations.

The Leech's explanations, mumbled through his cloth mask, I have since forgotten. But I remember us feasting by the spring. We ate meat and fucked the maidens. My companions had allowed me to experience my first time with the one, and they had shared the other. And I remember the feeling of the clean water washing over me. The way the half-woman had smiled at me, my loam dripping from her sex.

"Lord Tsum'Ein!" Ally had opened the door and in a hurry closed it again. She carried my staff and bindle in one arm, and a case marked with the symbols of her craft in the other.

I made an effort to cover myself but failed to force my veiny cock under the stiff fabric. "Look away," I said, "I'm about to spend myself."

Her burden clattered to the ground. "Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein!" Ally did not avert her eyes and instead jabbed me with her fingertips. She struck three points close to the root and then dropped to her knees. "Forgive me."

I cursed. My grip no longer registered on my member, still hard but paralysed into deadened wood. Ally approached me on her knees, opened her mouth, and I punished her throat. "What did you do?" My attack had come without hesitation.

The harp maiden gasped for air and then accepted another thrust. "Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein, I am but a vessel of mud, and filthy thoughts frequently cloud my feeble mind." Blood flushed her cheeks, and a trail of spit kept her connected to my erection. "Forgive my transgressions, Lord Tsum'Ein, but do you not wish to first walk the road?"

I did remember some of the priest's words, and I remember the other maiden, covered in the loam of five Turtle warriors. "Why do you care?"

"Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein, I should not dare." Ally touched her head to the floor, wrapped her arms around my legs, and looked up at me from under my cock. "I cannot presume that you care for the orders I have been given, and I may not impose my worthless hand on your exalted soul."

I cursed. "Speak plainly."

"Do you command this, Lord Tsum'Ein? Is this what you want?"

"It is and I do."

"As you wish, Lord Tsum'Ein. I like your cock. And I like you. I am but a vessel -- I would love to join you, and I wouldn't much mind you bending me over and fucking me good. But Lady Blossom forbid me from accompanying you, and we agreed that it would be good for your soul if I didn't drain your -- if I left you connected to human desires."

"Such flattery." I felt a strange emptiness in my gut, a strong tension that radiated from my groin. My voice must have sounded angry.

"Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein." She threw herself back down to the floor, and she did not look up again. "I am an unworthy servant. I have presumed too much, and my words must sound like mockery. My feelings mean nothing, and neither do I. Forgive this vessel of soil, Lord Tsum'Ein, and punish me as you see fit."

"Stand up."

She obeyed.

"Strip."

She lowered her gaze but obeyed.

"On my bed."

"As you command, Lord Tsum'Ein." Something shone in her eyes, and her lip quivered. "Should I undo the touch?"

"No." I knelt by her feet. "Just spread your legs."

She looked me in the eyes and did so. I touched her foot. And she, sensing, panicked. "You can't," she whispered. I kissed the inside of her thigh, trailing upwards. She shuddered, wet to my touch, and her pleas turned to moans.

I reached her sex from below, teased my lips over it, and kissed higher. The tip of my tongue reached her belly button, then I moved back down again. The harp maiden's shivering finger touched my hair for a moment, but she withdrew, shocked and aroused. More and more wetness bedewed my face. I paused. "Do you like it?"

She did not answer with words. Her legs strained, and she pushed her pelvis closer to my smirking mouth. I caressed her body, up to her dainty breasts, and she took my hand into hers. A single, meek moan escaped her throat, and she came on my tongue.

The harp maiden screamed my name. She pushed herself against my nose, all the while protesting her worthlessness. But her body continued to respond to my tongue, and with her next moans, she pleaded for more. "Ohh, Lord Tsum'Ein! "Yes! Ohh, thank you, Lo -- Lord Tsum'Ein! Yees!" She came again, and I relented. She caught her breath, breasts heaving, supine on the mat.

I smiled down at her, but she averted her gaze. My erection cast a dark shadow over her blushing face. "How do you feel?"

"Lord Tsum'Ein." She touched my cock, but did not meet my eyes. "We should not have done this. I am but a poor vessel of the soil, and you are a mighty Lord. And your poor cock. I should release you."

"But did you enjoy it?"

She gave a subtle nod. "Yes. Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein, but yes."

"There is nothing to forgive. I was glad to be of service!"

"Lord Tsum'Ein!"

"And you are right about the sinner's road. Of course, you are right." I felt her touch through the numbness, a sweet pain that cried for relief, yet far away. "But I don't think it's going down."

"No." She giggled. "But I am prepared to help you prepare."

I stood, slack-jawed, as she bundled my soul into the bindle. She moved with a dancer's grace and, on her knees, stretched out her naked body, her tight ass, and her sex, wet from my ministrations. My painful hardness seemed to grow larger, and I saw her smile. She handed me the bindle and staff, picked up her box, and then dropped to her knees.

The darkwood case contained the tools of her craft: Censer and blade; and all the other tools needed to open the Yisun. Fans, cosmetics, dress; and all the other beautiful tools needed to entice. Scrolls of poetry, and a small cymbal; some of the implements needed to entertain the soul, more no doubt stored elsewhere. Salves, oils, even chains; all the tools needed to scrape the loam from noble bodies.

"Here!" Ally showed me the tube. A sheath crafted from leather, or so I assumed, but covered with metal bells and disks. She grabbed my cock and gave it a tug. I started to feel again; a numb sensation, and one that promised pain rather than relief. My winced protests were ignored, and she even licked it until I felt it close to bursting. She then strapped the codpiece, fitting snug, over my raging hardness. "All done."

I stayed long enough for her to explain the cultic origin of the obscene fashion and then walked, trusting her words, through the Keep. My sinner's staff warned the Spider courtiers skulking in their corners of my approach, and their scandalised whispers could indeed find no fault in the ostentatious fashion tied over the drab garb.

Blossom, however, laughed. My charge, wearing her own sinner's vestments with unsurprising style, had awaited me by the pond. She rose from her meditation under the dead branches of an ancient Yisun and pointed at the jingling demon-maw growing from between my legs.

"Blossom, my Lady," I said, at once realising how difficult the lewd piece made bowing.

She laughed louder. "Thorn, my dearest brother, I have been waiting for you. But I did not quite expect such a sight."

I cleared my throat and tried my best to mimic a bow. "I did not expect to see you here, Blossom, my Lady, but I am glad my sorry state amuses you."

"Don't be cross." She tried to calm her laugh and, failing, hid her smirk behind her dark, coarse sleeve. "And do not be surprised. Would you blame the sword or the arm that wields it?"

"Forgive me, Blossom, my Lady. I did not think, and I did not mean to imply thoughtlessness on your part."

"That was well spoken," she said, then smirked. "Surprisingly so. And I have, in truth, often concealed my sins from you, Thorn, my dearest brother. How could you not think me careless if I act like my peers; and without care?"

I inclined my head.

"Besides," she said, "you have brought meat, have you not?" Blossom grabbed the bindle from my hand and laid out a blanket. "Let's eat." She unpacked the food. Beef and pork, marinated in dark sauce, grilled and wrapped in leafy greens. A few balls of pale padpad, and two bottles of dark red wine.

My charge filled both our cups and, while I struggled to sit, already dug her teeth into the first scrap of meat. Blossom chewed with delight, brown juice dripping from her chin. "So good," she said. I had never before seen her take such a careless posture; sat on her ass and feet, legs spread, and her back arched back. "What?" she asked. "We're on the sinner's road, right?"

I shrugged. My throat felt dry, and the weird construction between my legs contorted my tiring body. I gulped down some wine and grabbed my first piece of meat. The taste brought a tear to my eye.

"My poor Thorn." Blossom giggled. "How that harness must wound you." She leaned over and unstrapped the leather. I protested, but she continued, unperturbed. "We are past this, are we not, Thorn, my brother? Besides, we are both on this road together, and you'd be naked by now if together with your brothers-in-arms.

I admitted as much and allowed her to strip the coarse fabric from my shoulder as well. On her insistence, I told her more: "The Tiger feast on flesh after every victory, and the Turtle after every battle. There were harp maidens when I travelled with the Guardian House, and once a peasant woman."

"I envy that," Blossom said. She cast the undone codpiece aside and reached for the food. "It is lonely for us," she said, chewing. "Usually. Lonely and sad. The meat starts to taste like ash, and I even stopped bringing any for a while. Serves me right, I suppose." Her gaze lingered on my naked body, on old wounds, and on the vein bulging on my cock.

A piece of beef caught in my throat. I coughed and drank more wine. "Forgive me, Blossom, my Lady, I didn't..."

"You don't think of me like this." Blossom smiled. My charge gestured at the pond and surrounding hills, then at herself. She refilled our cups, licked sauce from her stained lips, and reclined. The sloppy fall of her beltless garb did not cover her front, but she reserved all her care for the food. And her words: "As you should, I suppose. I work hard at seeming, after all. And people die whenever I do not." She sighed and paused her chewing. "I should not burden you with this, Thorn, my dearest brother. Tell me more of your warrior tales instead. Do you ever -- with each other?"

I laughed. "Where did you hear such rumours, Blossom, my sister? I have never known you to give credence to the loamy smut lesser poets smear in leather-bound pillowbooks. Besides, I prefer women."

She pointed a piece of pork at me and raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"But the rumours one hears about the Tigers, however vile, are persistent. And..." I paused. "And the soil is ever close to our minds. We fought often, back when I travelled with the Turtle, and there were times when we had no harp maidens with us; when there was not a single peasant hovel in sight. Once, we offered a small fortune to a charcoal burner, but she chose to stay true to her husband. But I shouldn't slander my comrades in arms..."

"Thorn!"

"It is not forbidden, you know. Not anywhere, not exactly. Not like..." I cleared my throat. "There is a certain license given to the soldiers' needful watch. And..." I paused again. "And I have seen others take the opportunity. Some bashful, hidden in the brush and covered by transparent excuses. Others in plain sight, naked bodies joining as we would have done with a woman. And I..." I paused to tear into a chunk of meat.

Blossom had stopped eating. Her breast rose and fell with the weight of her quickened breath. She had spread her legs, widened her stance, and a brazen fingertip twitched close to the silvery path. Her lips moved, and she licked away a hint of sauce. She almost formed a word.

"And I may have accepted a helping hand, once or twice."