Geisha (Shinobi Saga) Read Online Free Page A

Zenshiro mad, so he focused on the heavy curtain of hair tickling the small of his back and drops of moisture glittering in white lashes.
    “Look at me.” The soft command registered in some deep part of Yoshi's brain and he blinked several times before finally focusing. The glamour they were caught in dissolved and he froze. “Don't move.” Steely arms wrapped tightly around his chest, pinning him in place. “It’s obvious your mind was elsewhere. Who were you thinking about?”
    “That is none of your concern,” the shadow wolf snapped back. “My thoughts, at least, are my own.”
    “I’m trying to help you,” Zenshiro insisted. “You were enjoying this, and so was I. Wouldn’t it be better if it were always pleasurable? I don’t really want to hurt you, but you’re so distant and it’s the only way I can get a reaction.”
    “You don’t understand. I don’t want to react. I can’t enjoy this and still look at myself in the mirror. Push too hard and I’ll commit seppuku. I doubt your master would appreciate that.”
    “Have it your way.”
    Yoshi felt the hold on him loosen slightly, then the world tilted as he was pushed forward. His momentary relief at the loss of penetration, however, was short lived. Embarrassment flooded through him at the position he found himself in, face pressed into the mattress and his ass lewdly raised. He shut down completely when fingers spread his hole wide, shivering at the panted breaths his guard could not restrain. Two fingers became three, then four.
    “Since you choose not to enjoy this, I will.” Zenshiro wedged his thumb into the overstretched ring and made a fist, sliding it in wrist deep. “Now crawl, and don’t lift your face.”
    The mortified shinobi slid one knee forward, biting his lip when the fist inside him shifted. After a few moments he managed to move his other leg, setting up a hitching motion that carried him across the futon and onto the floor.
    “You can do better than that,” the guard chided, lifting his hand and twisting slightly. “Faster. Across the room and back. Do well and, perhaps, this will end here.”
    Eager to bring the torment to a close Yoshi struggled to obey. He slipped and slid across the smooth floor, propelled at an ever increasing pace by the relentless pressure inside him. When he reached the wall he realized there was no easy way to go back. He struggled through a wide turn, picking up speed in his desperation to reach the safety of the futon.
    “Not bad, but I’m sure you can do better. Shall we try again?”
    “No, please.” It was as close to begging as he would allow himself to get. “I’ll try harder.”
    Apparently it was enough, the fist unclenched and the hand slowly slipped out, leaving Yoshi feeling unpleasantly open and empty. He struggled for a semblance of his usual grace, clawing at the futon for purchase and collapsing face down. He barely felt the hard cock pushing inside him, surrendering, instead, to the darkness that rose to meet him.
     
    ***
     
    Yoshi gradually slipped further into his own world. The life of a maiko was demanding in the best of circumstances. His days were hectic, the instructors rushing to bring him up to speed in time for the annual dance and music performances. To his dismay, his coloring made him the focus in any grouping, and the extra attention he drew brought out the worst in the other girls.
    “Okasan, perhaps it would be best if I didn’t perform,” he suggested after a particularly brutal dance rehearsal. “The other maiko need the exposure more than I. I’m sure my master would understand.”
    “These performances are our biggest source of funding,” she replied tersely. “Patron or no, I expect you to do everything required for the success of this okiya. Just because you have a rich man in your pocket doesn’t mean you can do as you please. I’ve heard you are very popular with the tourists. Times are changing, we need foreign business to survive.