Lands of the Lotus 7: The Night that Never Happened

I came across a small hut in the middle of the woods made of bamboo and mud. Trees bearing fruit grew around it. The tracks came near this spot, but he actually went out of his way to go around it. He was excellent at avoiding detection; I had to give him credit for that. His tracks would go north and would swiftly turn to the west. I was certain that his destination was the west, though. Everything pointed west.

Perhaps the hut’s occupant saw something, I thought. I had fashioned a makeshift sheath with a swatch from my large gray cloak, and slowly drew the sword out in anticipation of what I might find on the other side of the door. The sun was going down, and I might have to spend the night here. I kept the blade in my hand, but pointed down, so as not to seem too threatening, and knocked lightly on the door. The woman who opened it was elderly, perhaps in her seventies if her looks could tell her story. A couple of her teeth were missing as she smiled, but I could tell that she had been quite pretty when she wore a younger woman’s clothes.

“Hello there, young man. My, there are a number of you running around here lately. Have you come to keep old Anling warm for the night?”

I smiled shyly. Old as she may have been, the woman still maintained an air of dignity that I found attractive. “If the lady wishes it, madame. It would be nice to rest on a bed tonight. I’ve been tracking a man for the past three days, and have had to sleep in the brush.”

“Oh yes, your man passed by here not three hours ago. I thought it rude that he would ride around my hut without even saying hello. But please, you look as tired and limp as an old rag doll. Come in, come in.”

I thanked the kind old lady and stepped into her simple home. The smell of cinnamon hung in the air and pictures of Anling in her youth hung on the wall. She was a plantation owner years before, and pictures of her and her eunuch farmers adorned the little hut. The mattress on the rickety old bed may have been made of straw, but it must have been enchanted to feel as soft as down to the touch. A potbelly stove stood in the corner, and a fillet of fish was being cooked. Long, well-kept potted plants stood sentry by the door. I sat myself down, cross-legged by the low table.

“Here, have some tea, my boy. Perfect for soothing sore muscles. Be careful not to drink it too quickly, now. Don’t want you falling asleep just yet!”

We chatted about her past as I sipped at the warm tea. She told me her story as a plantation's mistress in the south of the region with rice paddies as far as the eye could see and legions of pigs for slaughter. She remembered her eunuch farmers fondly, and was always sure to take good care of them. Everything changed soon after she turned forty, and she was disgraced when her own daughter took the sac of a man the empress wanted for herself. Shingli was outraged at a law which had been passed declaring it illegal for a woman’s father to be officially recognized, and she nutted the fair-haired man herself, even after being told about her majesty’s interest. The plantation was declared property of the state and Anling lost everything. She was forced to flee into hiding or suffer the fate of her child.

Anling’s daughter was taken to the palace in chains and locked in a cell for months. She was bound the entire time and was often flogged and whipped. Her isolation ended abruptly one day when she was dragged into the throne room and secured to an iron table with her legs spread the wide. The Empress herself approached the woman with a small ceremonial knife coated with a poison specially made to inflict excruciating pain. I don’t understand many of the details, but the poor woman’s clitoris was barbarically cut out of her vagina in a process that was dragged out to last an eternity. She was not allowed to pass out from the pain, and was plagued by infections for the rest of her short natural life.

Dinner was ready by the time Anling’s story was finished. She brought two plates of fish and rice and we ate as we discussed my slavery. “So how does it feel? To be denied like that? The frustration must be more than you can bear, no? I only ask because I think I know what you’re going through until I remember that I can at least pleasure myself when I want.”

I was startled for a moment. “I won’t ask exactly how old you are, but you must be old enough for… that to have stopped. What I mean is for that desire to be gone.”

She looked at me as if I were a child in her classroom. “I suppose you mean to say that women cease to have that desire, nor can they bear children, after a certain age. Hmm? Silly boy, that was one of the first problems we used our power to correct once the magic was all ours. Well, right after we rid ourselves of that monthly pain. Then again, I did leave a question hanging in the air…”

“Well, I think my mistress does take care of me in that regard. She makes me earn it, of course, and it isn’t easy, but I’ve been released twice since she took me from my cell. It’s probably more than I should hope for.”

She chuckled a little and then took a sip of her tea. “Oh I dare say that it is much more. When I was a little girl of twelve my best friend’s mother bought her an intact ten year old slave. Collar and all. She was ten as well, and used her boy innocently until womanhood began to creep into her. That boy would keep us both entertained for hours on end with his tongue. Once our innocence was gone ,cruelty crept into our playtime.

“He turned thirteen and we would do horrible things to him when he was insolent enough to beg. We were in town one afternoon and saw an older man in the middle of the square. His mistress had decided hat he had earned a release, but public humiliation was necessary. For the first time in our young lives we saw the pleasure that such an act gave a man. The writhing in his face and that gasp of air stuck with us. Her sweet boy would not get to do that.

“She, being the third daughter and not entitled to much, went into the breeding business. She slept with men many times a week because she grew to love it. Even since my exile I’ve had… friends bring me news from the outside world, and I always kept up with old playmates life. Last I heard the poor thing bore no less than thirty boys, but it made her rich.

“The young collared slave was there every night, watching her get fucked from the corner as his little thing struggled to rise. He would watch man after man after man shudder in the heat of orgasm, releasing his stream into the mistress, and he would clean her up after every session. His little thing would only be allowed to rise to its fullest once. Just once in his life, when my friend chose to have an heir upon her sixtieth birthday. That pole was used once and then severed for the Mother, never to be used again.

“I tell you this as a warning. Do not let your expectations soar too high. You are property, no matter how you have been treated up until this moment. It may change.”

She spoke up as I finished cleaning my plate. “There is something you must let me do, yoshi.” She placed her hands on my head with the thumbs on my temple and just sat there with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths in and out. She stopped after a minute and those dark green eyes, the color of healthy leaves, stared back into mine. “A pet of a High Mistress, are you?” She smiled wickedly to herself. “I must admit, part of me would know great pleasure in giving you pain.” Uh-oh. “But I think it’s more in my interest to have fun with you in other ways.”

She rose from the table and walked over to a rack of jars. She turned them around, looking at the thoughtfully, as if she was struggling to recall which was which. She finally settled on a thin glass jar with a cork stopper on top and opened it. She walked over to me and spilled a pinch of powder into her hand. Her eyes closed as she placed the powder on her tongue, and she was suddenly concentrating on a distinct image she had copied from my thoughts.

Her skin began to shift and her form began to change. Her height didn’t shift much, but wrinkles stretched and then smoothed out. Her breast firmed up and filled out. Hair lengthened and straightened as her face took on a most familiar form. Anasi stood in front of me. A perfect copy of my mistress.

----------------------------Anasi--------------------------

My throne in the Great Hall was uncomfortably cold as I took my seat. I had been accused by some of orchestrating the death of my cousin, but three quarters of my ladies stood behind me. That night was complete chaos. Misaka took the lead, of course, in making it clear that I was to blame for the loss of our leader. Those who knew me found it laughable that I would do such a thing. I was not even next in line for succession. That honor went to High Mistress Xiaozong, who wasted no time in declaring me a traitor to the realm. Ceremony dictated that she would have to recover the remains of Kaora before she declare herself Empress, though. To do so she would have to fight through every man and eunuch behind Kingae Vela’s walls.

Misaka and her men fled during that whirlwind of a night, right after she made her thoughts public. She and the Chained Spider rode for the capital in the darkness along with some of the other women and soldiers who had gathered for the Empress. I was left with 4,500 of the realm’s finest warriors, and a decision would have to come soon: march on Xiaozong and the capital or wait for them to come to me. I had to remember to thank Misaka for the entertainment she left me, though. Her favorite intact slave boy had been entertaining us that night, giving pony rides throughout the keep’s halls. He was gagged and chained on a table in front of me, whimpering pathetically. He had a very slim build. My yoshi was lean, but was very muscular where it counted. This creature was more of a housecat to my pet’s tiger.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as Xiang strode into the room. She had jumped at the chance to be chosen for this duty, to deprive Misaka of one of her prized possessions. She would never mate with this boy. Xiang was dressed from head to toe in black leather. The boy’s pole sprang to life as tears streamed down her face. I looked on in apathy. I would rather it were yoshi in front of me. Why did he leave? Where did he go? Could he have been responsible for my cousin’s fate? Oh, the horrors he would know if that were true. This boy’s ordeal would be a heavenly mercy in comparison.

One of my favorite stories from childhood came from early in the empire. The former emperor had been castrated, but his wife, whom he had neglected except for the nights he chose to rape her, decided that some cruelty was in order. She sacrificed a great deal of time and effort to enchant his severed testicles. They would remain alive as long as a pig was sacrificed once every full moon to maintain their essence, and she had them enlarged to the size of small melons. The magic would also keep them intact, no matter how much harm was done. More important was that they were still connected to the slave through the ether. Though they still lived away from him he felt all of their pain. One was given to her daughters who would play ball with it, sometime smacking it over the palace wall. The other hung in the Empress’ workout room, and served her as a punching bag would. The poor thing would beg her for death with eyes full of tears every night. She would laugh every time.

Misaka’s toy had eyes like that right now. This was probably the only creature which had received her affection. I think Xiang was wet with anticipation. She actually hopped onto the table and rested there, between his legs, on her knees. The ceremonial knife that was to be my cousin’s gift came out of its sheath on her thigh. Her other hand wrapped itself around his shaft like a snake and rubbed it slowly, up and down. Little moans escaped the gag, followed by a big one as she stopped just as suddenly. She actually snickered at the poor thing.

She lifted his sack gently, and the knife traveled towards it. She brushed it along his scrotum, inadvertently shaving hairs from its front side. He passed out. “Unacceptable,” Xiang muttered under her breath. She had come prepared, as smelling salts came from a pouch in her pants. The boy came back to life as if he had hoped this was all a bad dream. She continued the assault right where she left off, scraping his manhood maliciously as the boy began to squirm. The knife bit into him without warning, and muffled screams filled my chamber. She deftly cut around the sack leaving the cords intact as the pouch came free from his crotch. “Sunji,” she motioned to the girl. “I want a visual record of this. A sparrow will take it to the palace to greet Misaka when she arrives.”

The young, gossipy little teenager took out a quill and some parchment, and quickly sketched the vision of the boy with his testes exposed and a knife poised to remove them. That knife. “Use a different knife, Xiang.”

“Oh alright.” She knew better than to challenge me on this. I didn’t want my gift involved in this record. I would save it for my cousin’s killer, whoever he may be. Once Sunji had the sketch complete, a simple spell brought the image to life. Misaka would not be able to mistake the boy for anyone else.

The picture complete, and I short on patience, Xiang wisely decided not to delay further. The smaller knife cut through the first cord close to the base, extracting another scream from the lad. She tossed it aside. She was about to slice off the other when Didi, her large, imported husky, scurried along the floor the grab the organ in her teeth. Even I laughed at that, and the boy fainted once more. The last cord was cut, and Rahja, my kitty cat, got the last ball.

----------------------------yoshi--------------------------

She looked just like Anasi until her face got close to mine. The eyes were still that greenish hazel, unlike my mistress’ gray. She disrobed and bared Anasi’s body before me. “I haven’t had a man in over thirty years, little yoshi. How fortunate that you came upon my hut tonight. Please, get on the bed.”

I was shaky and unsure of this. My training had stressed doing what a woman told me, even if my mistress was unavailable, but this felt like… cheating. Still, I was compelled to do as I was commanded. I lay down on the bed and Anling pounced on top of me. Her lips leapt at mine and her tongue darted in and out of my mouth. I tried to fight for the briefest of seconds, but was overcome with desire for even a fake Anasi. Her knees were on top of my elbows, forcing me to keep my hands to myself for a moment, but that didn’t stop me from pressing my lips closer to hers and returning her amorous affection. She was leaving a damp trail on my abs as her pelvis rocked up and down along my body.

She let go of my arms, and one flew around her while the other grabbed hold of her breast, pinching the firm nipple between my fingers. This was Anasi, as far as I was concerned. She lifted herself away from me and turned around, then descended upon my hungry mouth. I greedily lapped at her. She even tasted like my mistress. My tongue probed until I found that magical spot, and I sent the woman into a fit of ecstasy. She bent over then and fondled my restrained manhood. The frustration built to new heights as she tucked it into her mouth and sucked. I was almost foolish enough to think that my cock might be strong enough to break out, and the building tension pushed my mouth and lips to double their efforts. Anasi had trained me like that. When I pushed myself to give her that intense pleasure I might be allowed to bring myself to orgasm.

Anling was quite different though. She slumped on top of my body after another orgasm that threatened to snap my neck. We lay there together for a couple of minutes, and I took deep breaths, as her scent was right on top of me. She got up and slinked towards the jars once more. She chose a clear green one that seemed almost empty from the clinking I heard when she shook it. She poured out a pinch and came back. My penis had gone flaccid by this time, and the powder itched as she let it fall there. My eyes went wide as she reached down and slid the collar up off of me. I was free and my pole began to rise.

She straddled my stomach again, leaned in, and whispered in my ear. “There’s one thing I know you haven’t done with your precious Anasi. Can you guess what that is?” A grin came to life on her face. She lifted her hips and held them just over my cock. “I don’t play by the dynasty’s rules, young one. Stay here and this will happen often.”

Something gripped me with fear on the inside. This was an incredible offer, to be sure, and the temptation was almost too much to bear. But those hazel eyes, as dazzling as they were, were not my mistress’. “No! Please!” I screamed, almost involuntarily. “I can’t do this, ma’am. I have to go.”

“Now, now, child, why can’t you do this? It’s a perfectly natural function, unless of course you haven’t done it before,” she said as she giggled.

“I, I guess I haven’t done it, in a sense. Or at least yoshi hasn’t done it, and that’s who I am now. If I were to do this it would be like taking something that belongs to my mistress, and I can’t do that. She would see it in my mind and would have no choice but to remove… that. It’s a tradition that cannot be broken.”

“You feel this strongly about this, do you?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully and pondered the situation. “You’re right, you know. She would see it, just as I have seen that you are a good little boy.” That got me a sweet kiss on the forehead. “Very well. I suppose those memories will have to be enough to carry me to my grave.” She lifted off of me again and went to find a vial on her shelf. This one contained a clear liquid which she brought to me and held over my mouth.

“What is this for?” I asked.

“It will put you to sleep. You will dream of happy times alone with your mistress. Drink it in good health.”

I put the vial to my lips and drank a sip. I was quickly unconscious.

----------------------------Anling-------------------------

“How long before I fall asleep?”

“Not too soon, I hope. Would you put the vial back, please?” His ignorance was sweet, and I felt bad about what was about to happen, but I had earned it. As he crossed the middle of the room I uttered a quick simple spell. My plants wrapped themselves around his limbs and took him down to the ground.

“What’s going on?!? What are you doing?!?”

I slowly walked over to the helpless boy and knelt by his head. “You belong to High mistress Anasi, and you serve her well, but tonight you will serve me, boy.”

“No. Please, I beg you, don’t do this. It’s hers to take. Please…” He began to sob. Some might find it pathetic, but I found him to be admirable. His devotion had not been compromised by his willful nature.

I took his cock in my hand and began to fondle yet again. It grew quickly, despite his obvious wishes. I leaned in and licked at the clear pool that began to form on his head. A guilty moan escaped from him. Once more I straddled him, and then lifted myself above the pole. I would not be stopped again. I methodically eased myself down his length and marveled at the sensation of having a man in me again. I commanded one of my plants to gag him, as his protests were ruining the mood.

I knew his despair was genuine, but he still couldn’t help himself. I felt him as he would lift his hips in tune with my descents, thrusting himself deeper into me. I was drunk on the sensation of sex, and so was my slave for the night. I squeezed with all my strength, determined to make him feel what he could be giving up. What he could have again. Most men aren’t aware of the more discreet functions of the collar. An unused penis would normally shrivel up, but the magic of the device keeps it firm and strong. A man who has worn it can also endure the pleasure for longer than would be thought possible. A lot of effort was put into their design, and for what? So that the slave could be in perfect form for one night of passion? What a waste.

This boy lasted for half an hour. Half an hour of our bodies smacking together ferociously and my womanhood sucking on him. My hands gripped the sides of his torso for dear life as if it were a life-saving piece of wood on a stormy sea. Our sweat mingled as our breaths came in quick puffs. I had been quite reserved as a young woman, but age had changed me. I shamelessly moaned as hard as I could and a scream began to build in me. In both of us.

Our bodies both began tense. I absent-mindedly waved the plant from his mouth so I could hear his pleasure, and it was there. His moans were no less enthusiastic than mine. And all of the pressure that repressed sexuality can exert came gushing out of us. I began to feel full as his seed emptied into me with the force of a rushing river. I clamped down so tightly on him that I almost feared breaking the poor boy. But the screams inevitably died down. I leaned over his face, his cock still inside me, softening, and whispered in his ear. “I cannot promise this every night. Perhaps only three or four times a week. Stay, yoshi. Stay with me. I’ll keep this form as long as you like, no matter what it costs me. I can even take the form of another. I could look like any woman you wish. You can be my slave, and we can have as many little daughters as we wish before I pass on. You will not have another chance, yoshi. You must choose now.”

I almost thought he was mine. He seemed to struggle with the question, to rationalize why it would be all right. That struggling ended when he gazed deeply into my eyes for a moment. He had his answer. “You know I cannot do this, mistress Anling.”

My heart sank as he spoke those words, but I was indebted to the boy. He had given me something that was to last long after I was in the grave. Still, there was a punishment in it all for poor yoshi. He would remember nothing after the potion. None of it existed as far as he was concerned.

----------------------------yoshi--------------------------

A dull throbbing headache welcomed me that day. What memories I had, of her in Anasi’s form, were hazy at best. She greeted me warmly and served a bowl of congee. This was served often for breakfast here, and it reminded me of the porridge my mother would serve me back home.

“I have heard something that might help you, yoshi. The man you seek heads for the town of Nijing. He travels without a pattern, trying desperately to throw off pursuit. Leave now and you may arrive there as he does.”

I took a spoonful of food into my mouth and thought about what she said. “May I ask how you know this?”

“I’ve been living in these woods longer than you’ve been alive, young one. The animals themselves speak to me sometimes. All I had to do was ask about the stranger. He looks like one of us, but in truth he does not belong here. There is something else I’ve learned, as well.

“I’ve seen in your thoughts that you fear he took the life of Anasi, but he did not. It was Kaora he murdered.”

I solemnly rose after finishing my meal and she followed. “I thank you for all you have done for me, Mistress Anling. I owe you much.” I went to my knees and placed gentle kisses on both of her feet, then rose again. “I must be going now.”

“May you have luck, handsome yoshi. I shall remember you fondly.”

Our paths diverged then, and I traveled towards the town to find the man who killed Empress Kaora.