Waking Blood Ch. 02

"Hah!" Mojiro exclaimed after swilling half his bottle of sake. "My little Kamiko fancies time with you more than with her old grandfather. Are you samurai, boy? You look like a samurai ..."

"Once, I could have been."

"What happened?" Kamiko asked, her eyes lingering on his thick shoulders and long black hair. She had never seen a man so raw.

"Monsters."

III

"You're shivering," Satoru said, staring up at the moon. The fire had died down to embers and the woods were bathed in moonlight. "But you're not cold."

"No," Kamiko, whispered staring at his broad back. His mysterious sword awaited there, waiting to be unsheathed. "Not cold."

"Frightened," Satoru said, facing the young woman. Her head barely reached his shoulders. "He sleeps?"

Kamiko looked over her shoulder. "Grandfather is loving his sake mistresses." She stepped closer to Satoru, immobile like a statue and she touched his arm. His skin radiated heat and yet her hand felt chilled. "Are you a real person?"

"Real? I'm real. I was a person, once."

Kamiko caressed his cheek and asked: "How?"

"I fell in love. She died."

"You're alone, then," Kamiko said, taking his hand in hers.

"No," Satoru said, tapping his chest. "She's here. You're here."

Kamiko looked into Satoru's deep, black eyes and they seemed to swirl with images that she had dreamt over the years of her short life. "Will you kill me?" she asked, her voice as quiet as the breeze.

"No," Satoru hissed before pushing her head to the side and pressing his lips to the warm skin f her neck. He traced the crease where her neck met her shoulders up to her ear -- he nibbled on her earlobe and she giggled as her nipples grew hard and strained against the fabric of her kimono. Satoru inhaled the salty musk of her flesh as he heard the harsh rush of her blood right beneath the surface of her skin.

"Touch me ... touch me," Kamiko pleaded as his lips brushed hers and her mind fired with rapturous flowers that rooted themselves in her pussy. She moaned when he tore the front of her kimono, exposing her pale breasts to the enchanting moonlight. Satoru fell to his knees and cupped her tits in his large hands -- he kneaded her firm mounds with his rugged fingers and kissed her stiff nipples.

Kamiko's knees buckled as she felt his shocking tongue move around her flesh, igniting her blood. Her heartbeat accelerated as Satoru moved from one nipple to the next, his tongue moving like a typhoon. Chills danced across her limbs when his cool, steel like teeth grazed her hyper-sensitized nipples and she grabbed fistfuls of his long hair, relishing the attentions this odd warrior lavished upon her. Satoru had pushed Kamiko to the soft ground and had completely undone her kimono, fully exposing her to the moonlight. She sighed as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in his vicious eyes -- eyes filled with an alternate life she secretly coveted.

Satoru surveyed the lush landscape of her young beauty -- her warmth was an opiate that had subjugated him since he first encountered her and her old grandfather on the trail, and it was why he had struck their attackers with such ferocity. Satoru kneeled before her and unslung his sword and slipped the katana he had collected from one of the brigands from his sash and he undressed. To Kamiko, Satoru appeared like a pale, translucent apparition, shimmering in the moonlight. His cock was long and thick, like a shard of alabaster. Her tits were larger than her kimono alluded to -- her waist was slim and her hips womanly despite her meager age of twenty. The space between her legs was crowned by a satiny triangle of fine hair. His shoulders were broad and his arms and chest were thickly muscled. His belly was rippled and his thighs were like tree trunks and his cock was a thick root, sticking forward from his dark pubic hair.

As she saw his erection, Kamiko remembered the waking dream she had of his possession of her trembling mouth. Satoru seemed to respond to her thoughts and crept through the grass till his cock was only a few inches from her mouth. She focused on his member and moved towards it, tentatively kissing the tip. It was cool against her lips, though she felt it soak up her heat before reflecting it back at her. Taken aback, she looked up at him, meeting his eyes and seeing a glimmer of the torn beast within him while he caressed her hair. When Satoru closed his eyes, Kamiko was emboldened and she wrapped a slight hand around his hard flesh and she kissed his cock again. He moaned and his flesh drew her warmth before it ignited her pussy -- she felt some similar feelings with other young men in the past, but never so intently. Her kiss covered the entire length of Satoru's shaft, her saliva coating it so it almost seemed to glistened in the moonlight.

Satoru threw his head back as Kamiko ran her tongue across each side of his cock and he almost howled as her saliva blanketed his shaft. She had a voracious appetite for his member -- her bobbing head made his balls slap against her pointy and her tongue caressed his shaft in wet courtship display. As she bobbed up and down his erection, her hand trailed behind her mouth and she pulled from the the man-beast.

The bliss Satoru felt sparked his dark heart and a desire for blood conflicted with the sweetness of sex -- it became manifest when Satoru grabbed Kamiko's head and powerfully rammed his cock to the back of her throat. She gagged, tears swelling in her eyes and flowing down her cheeks and still she tried to accommodate him as he fucked her mouth, like her fantasy had foretold. His cock was slipping in and out of her mouth and Kamiko was salivating each time it seemed to slide deeper down her throat till Satoru froze and his body shivered. She felt his member swell and he released a food of come deep into her gullet -- she knew that it came from something that was no longer a man the way she understood men but she swallowed his seed as it coated her esophagus.

He pulled out of her mouth, globs of his steaming come dribbling from her lovely lips and down her dainty chin. White droplets of come hung onto his cock in defiance of his human nature. His member was still as stiff as stone.

"I'm not sorry," Satoru said as he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth.

Kamiko struggled to swallow the gift he'd given her and devoured his kiss. She felt an odd jolt of energy rush through her and her pussy moistened at his tender touch.

"Neither am I," Kamiko answered. "I want more." She slid her kimono off and laid back onto the ground and spread her thighs. Satoru stroked his cock and watched intently as the young woman touched her most intimate source. He throbbed at the sight of her fingers exploring the pink lips of her pussy and he almost drooled when he saw the faint film of the hymen covering the entrance to her cave.

Feeling his eyes on her skin, Kamiko felt a rush of desire race through her limbs and the reserve taught to her by the women of her family disintegrated and she started to rub herself. Her fingers parted and entrapped the engorged folds of her pussy and she pulled and tugged as her inflamed flesh -- Satoru had moved between her thighs and was stroking the tip of his cock against her pussy and her moistness flowed, staining the ground and covering his glans. She watched him intently, awaiting him to claim what she was offering, but instead Satoru stretched out onto his stomach, moved her hand away and put his lips upon her little nub.

Kamiko had been admiring how his massive shoulders flexed when her breath caught in her throat the moment his lips pinched her clit -- she had never imagined anyone would pay attention to it beyond her self-explorations. The pressure his tongue applied caused a wave of uncommon heat to spread from her groin and spread across her limbs -- when it reached her head, sweat beaded at her hairline and she closed her eyes. Bursts of light erupted behind her eyelids -- sometimes they coalesced into echoes of Satoru caressing her, sometimes the were amorphous blobs that consumed each other.

For Satoru, the taste of Kamiko's pussy was like tasting a hint of the humanity he had forsaken for the love of the Lady Ioshi. When they had been together that one time, she had resonated with a regained humanity. But Kamiko a true woman and her smell and juices overpowered his heightened senses and he attacked her pussy with a fervent purpose. Kamiko noticed her ardor and her fingers slipped into his thick black hair and pulled him more deeply to her pussy -- his tongue bounced between her pussy lips as he lapped. Kamiko felt her body be torn by blissful madness as each point of contact between his tongue and her pussy ignited renewed tides of sexual energy.

"Yes! Yes!" Kamiko screamed as she felt her first orgasm given to her by another. The muscles of her pussy quivered, in absentia Satoru's cock.

"Ohhh!" Kamiko exclaimed as Satoru slid up her body, his flesh like roaming flame. His face was close to hers and he kissed her, his tongue a snake seeking its mate in her mouth. She trembled under his weight as his groin met hers and they writhed, each seeking position.

"Hunger," Satoru whispered in Kamiko's ear. When she saw his eyes, his pupils had grown cover it all and her heart skipped a beat.

"I'll give you my blood," she whispered. Fear and exhilaration peppered her words.

"I want ..." Satoru started but Kamiko silenced him with a kiss. She took his burning cock in her slight hand and put the tip against the thin veil of her hymen. Satoru grunted as she locked her feet behind his back and urged him into her -- he moved gently as her skin split to accommodate his girth and he breathed in the coppery smell of the few drops of blood Kamiko sacrificed as she did her virginity. She felt him fill her, the soft skin of his cock melding with the wanton walls of her pussy -- despite the tears his initial thrust pulled from her, the sheer sexual bliss she felt drowned out any agony. Satoru was fucking her and she was a queen of the night, if only for the time she bedded.

As they slowly fucked, Satoru's empathy expanded and embraced the young woman's hopes and fears and she shared his. Which each thrust, he brought to the surface the little moments of happiness she had ever felt -- witnessing a butterfly fly into the sky after landing on her hand; the first kiss she had when she was twelve under a warm summer; hearing her grandfather laugh for the first time after years of mourning her parents' death; watching Satoru move like a deadly wraith. What she felt from him was far less pleasant -- a young boy losing his family to monsters; a harsh upbringing where his formative years were painted scarlet with blood; falling in love with his monstrous mistress and finally loving her as a woman; their mutual death at his brother's hand and his blood soaked rebirth.

Those shared emotions left them battered as their pace had quickened and she grabbed his ass while his muscles flexed, driving cock deep into her slurping pussy. They voices were reduced to a litany of grunts and moans as the shared empathy regressed and a more primal nature asserted itself. Satoru's balls bounced against her ass while Kamiko grabbed her knees and pulled her legs to her shoulders so he could sink as deeply into her as he could. After a few moments, Kamiko gasped and she bit down on the stone-like muscles of his neck -- her pussy quivered and her body shock and she came for a second time.

Satoru, however, went unsatiated and his bestial nature, driven by the dark half of his heart, gave Kamiko no respite. He flipped her roughly onto her stomach and entered her with a single thrust from behind. She moaned as he grabbed her round hips and raised her ass and his rigid cock drove in and out of her inflamed pussy. The walls of her cunt gave her intermittent burst of bliss and pain caused by the soreness his overreaching desire. Satoru threw his head back as his flesh smacked against hers and his empathy engrossed them both -- but it steeped in the ash of his dark half.

The darkness spread in Kamiko's mind as she began to gyrate her hips in harmony to his thrusts. In her mind's eye she saw gnashing teeth colored crimson with blood and talons slicing through warm organs -- but the most unbearable was the empty hole in the corrupt soul driving the unyielding thirst. Satoru's pace was slowing and the nightmares they shared dissipated. In her, he felt like a man again. She looked over her shoulder and saw his eyes were closed and admired the ripple of his abdomen till her moans overcame her and she felt the blindness of orgasm engross her. She was not alone this time -- Satoru let out a groan and delivered heaving thrusts. He felt his cock bulge and pulsate until he moaned and an ebbing flow of come was unleashed deep into her pussy. For a short moment, Satoru relived he happiness he'd shared only a few weeks earlier with a very human Lady Ioshi -- but it was Kamiko's passion that allowed him to feel human this night.

Once his body ceased shaking, Satoru reluctantly pulled himself from Kamiko's warm embrace and watched as she moved onto her back and looked up at him. She beamed in the moonlight, filled with his almost boiling seed in her womb.

"Thank you," he whispered and leaned down to kiss her.

"Sleep," she whispered back, and he rested his head on her breast and slept the sleep of a man.

IV

Somnolence was a fleeting condition for Satoru. Kamiko realized this when she saw him holding the katana he had collected from the brigands. It was unsheathed while his other sword was slung across his back and his tanto knife was tucked into his sash and he was sniffing at the air. She looked over her shoulder and saw the ground far removed.

"For now, the trees are safer than the ground," Satoru whispered. He had heard a strange rustling beneath the earth where he laid his wary head, and the night filled with the subtle stench of feeders. Kamiko clung to the branches when the first screams were heard from deep within a nearby village. Satoru muscles bulged and he flung himself through the trees and he disappeared into the shadows while the screams echoed in the distance.

Fueled by the blood he had collected from the fallen brigands and harnessed by the night, Satoru bounced from thin branch to thin branch with a swiftness and a lightness of form that belayed his muscular frame -- the Lady Ioshi would have been proud.

His small caravan had not entered the village as Mojiro was too drunk to negotiate a place to rest though he was known there. And now the night twanged with the the pluck of bowstrings as the villagers and local ronin unleashed a flurry of arrows. Satoru's eyes crackled with the screams of life his new senses perceived. From a distance, he could see the pulsating forms of blood drawn by beating hearts against a mute canvass of arteries. He saw cloud like shadows sometimes envelope the scarlet tapestries and he knew they were now food for Goru.

Even as he came falling from the trees on the outskirts of the village, Satoru saw a woman disappear into the ground as though a mouth had opened to swallow her. To his left and right, men and women were running amok, only to dissolve into shadows with a startled gasp. Through his bare feet, he perceived a staccato rumble he could follow -- he zigged and zagged between fleeing villagers blind to the fact he Satoru moved among them with a drawn katana. Shadows moved with blurred flight as he heard the ground explode in the distance and the night filled with snarls and growls.

Satoru came to a halt and he stood before two ronin -- masterless samurai -- armed with two swords a piece and their bows drawn. They were stoic and grim, but their blood screamed in fear and anger as their shadows danced across the ground beneath the crackling fires of the village dwellings. They had their arrows sighted on him -- Satoru smiled as the ground rumbled and he shoved his arm like a spear through the earth. He yanked roughly and extracted a wriggling, skeletal form covered in gray leathery skin. Its hair was stringy and its eyes were sunken -- the lips were absent and the teeth were long, pointy, and razor sharp. Its genitals hung in a ruined heap. The two ronin glared at Satoru and then unleashed their arrows. One to the head and one to the heart. It stopped wriggling and Satoru dropped it.

The ronin lowered their bows and swallowed even as the dead thing raised its impaled head and snuck its blackened tongue between its pointed teeth and tasted the air. The ronin, though brave and strong, stepped back as the thing began to convulse and move towards them. Before it came within arm's reach of the, Satoru drew a perfect downward arc and separated its head from its shoulder -- the sound was like torn rice parchment. While fixating them, Satoru placed his knee between the decrepit shoulder blades of the beheaded creature and reached through its skin and cracking bone and extracted the heart. It turned to ash and fell away from his fingers.

"This," Satoru said, "is a feeder. It prowls from the nest and gorges on blood for its master. It's strong and fast -- but take the head and the heart away and it falls. But anything less and it will kill you." He picked up the head and tossed at their feet. "Gorged with blood, they are slow. Cut them and they will bleed all they've collected. That's why there is usually a guardian."

At the word guardian, the night froze as a hiss crept from the shadows and chilled the ronin's blood despite their training.

"Tell the others," Satoru whispered. The two ronin nodded and headed towards the torching village

"Head and heart," a voice cold like a winter snap sneaked from the darkness. "A good way to kill." White fangs glinted in the firelight and the guardian stepped out from the shadows. She stood as tall as Satoru -- her shoulders and waist were slight yet her presence was as cold and sharp as the katana he held. She wore a torn kimono, exposing her meager breasts and streams of blood trailed from her lips, down her chin and to the tips of her nipples. Her ragged hair was caked in dried blood.

"I was well trained," Satoru growled as he raised his katana in a defensive posture. He saw she held a bo -- a fighting staff -- in one hand and the eviscerated remains of its former owner in the other.

"We'll see what you're made of soon enough," the vampire said and she pivoted in a blur -- Satoru braced his back leg into the ground while she struck him with the long edge of the bo. The blade held fast against the inhuman force of the blow but it shook Satoru to the core of his bones. The vampire smiled at the challenge he might represent. Satoru snarled.

Then the flurry of blows rained upon him, but Satoru met every blow with a counter or a parry or a block. She struck his temple, tearing skin and drawing blood; he took the momentum of the blow, spun and slashed her inner thigh. She swept at his feet with the extended end of her bo; he leaped and slashed downward at her head. She collapsed his knee as he landed; he fell forward and cut a gash across her back. Breathing hard, Satoru charged the vampire -- with the otherworldly ease he once saw the Lady Ioshi wield, the vampire floated over him in a graceful flip and landed behind him, smashing her foot behind his knee and locking her bo against his throat. She braced the staff in the crook of her elbow and gripped her opposite arm, creating a triangle that tightened like a vice against the steely muscles of his neck. "What are you?" she murmured as she licked his ear. Her cold nipples pressed into his back and she hissed. The ground burst forth and two feeders appeared, skeletal, gray and thirsty.

They did not care what he was. Satoru grunted as they fell upon him -- one tore at his armpit and the other gnashed at his groin. He howled as his blood flowed into the waiting mouths of the feeders.