White Butterfly : Chapter 16
The hidden courtyard was built around a tree tied with thick white ropes and around the base of it was a large uneven mound of thin stone gravestones. There were straw dolls of priestesses pinned to the tree with elaborately carved hairpins, the sort a woman might carry for protection. But high on the tree was a white silk butterfly. The tree was a great cherry tree such as those outside Crawford’s door. The branches were bare for winter and it gave the whole courtyard a look of such desolate beauty. The tiny dolls and silk butterfly were fluttering in the wind. “We remember our dead,” Aya said and then walked across the raised walkway that ran along all four of the outer walls that protected the tree.
The wooden panels that enclosed the courtyard were plain thick walls, “I’m not ready to show you all our secrets,” Aya said bluntly, “master or not, the Fujimiya always were a little secretive,” he looked back over his shoulder, “but it is cold, come with me.” Then he offered out his hand, “the walkways are icy, you will have to watch your step.” Unlike the rest of the Fujimiya estate this part was left to the weather, the walkways were not polished to a bright sheen, fresh coats of varnish were not put on the walls which meant that the wood had taken on a grainy grey quality that made the place look even more desolate than the tree itself managed. It looked like an abandoned shrine.
Aya led him past the tree without even looking at it, without explaining the graves or the strange decorations that adorned it, although Crawford had a sudden vision of the tree burning and himself holding Aya back away from it. He wasn’t sure if it was a vision or just a figment of his imagination. He knew from it however that the white butterfly pinned to the tree represented Aya, a lost soul amongst sacrificed princesses.
The door that Aya led him to was carved with the Fujimiya crest and had swollen a little from the weather taking a solid jerk to open it. Inside the room had bright clean matting and large cushions laid out around a great wooden brazier in which a fire roared.
“This is where you come when you vanish.” Crawford said, it was not a question.
“No,” Aya answered, “it’s not.” He took a deep breath, “my oba-chan was a registered onmyoji, she could see the future in the flames of the mandala,” he gestured to the great wooden box in which the fire burned, “we are far from the other rooms in the house, and many walls separate us, this house holds many secrets close, and I can not trust your intentions to this house, if you killed me I would happily let them go to my grave with me, but I know that now you would know where to bury me.”
Crawford closed the door and settled down on one of the vast cushions, it was soft and comfortable, and being large enough to even support his back. “We can talk freely here, I can tell you what I could not before.”
“You are my master but I am still a Fujimiya, my body is yours to command but not my knowledge, not my allegiance.”
Crawford sighed and rolled his eyes, “you enjoy being a martyr don’t you, you let Fuji think that you desire his Buchou despite that it’s obvious that you do not, you envy his skill and their intimacy, and now you’re saying stupid things like I have your body when you deny me it.” Crawford pinched the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache, “I can give you such pleasures of the flesh, but you make such strange comments. You anger those who could be such powerful allies, including me.”
“I cannot reveal our secrets,” Aya protested.
“Do you think that’s the problem, you are such a child, I know this house has more secrets than you reveal, I could find them out myself if I cared, but it doesn’t matter to me, I know about the ways the Fujimiya gathered their wealth and their power. I know more than you think, and I do not care. You interest me not because of your family’s secrets but because I think you are lovely, because I want to fuck you, and everyone tells me that you are intelligent and might be able to help me destroy the Takatori, when I myself see nothing but a childish brat who is in love with his misery.” Aya lowered his eyes from Crawford, “I hurt you and I will concede it, I didn’t realise that Hikarin had such plans to destroy you for the beauty you don’t even yet possess. Rukia tells me that you are as wise as you are lovely, but I doubt that I can trust you yet.”
“I didn’t have to tell you these secrets.” Aya protested, “I didn’t show you my grandmother’s sanctum for you to insult me.”
“And you didn’t tell Fuji that you have no interest in Tezuka because you wanted him to punish you, perhaps even to kill you, and he will.”
Aya stared at the matting, anywhere but at Crawford. “I could hear everything he said to you where I was sat, I am not a fool, Aya, nor do I care to be taken for one.”
“What do you want?” Aya said, clenching his fists as his temper welled up in him for the first time, “you contradict yourself all the time, half the time I don’t know up from down, you want me to do this, you want me to do that and half the time it makes no sense.” His cheeks were pleasantly flushed in his rage. He looked almost aroused as his eyes flashed in the firelight. “You want me to betray the only people that helped me when my parents died and you give me no reason for it.”
“The Takatori used the rumours about your parents to fund their own excesses, they used your father’s loyalty to take money from the Taira,” Crawford answered coldly, “they used your family’s friendship to extend the debt and then because they had taken the money from the Fujimiya without a contract it appeared that the Fujimiya were the ones with the debt that they could not pay.” His tone was even and cold, “Reiji Takatori’s machinations included that your family kept secrets, that the Fujimiya were said to descend from Izanami of the house of windowless rooms, that your father would destroy himself rather than accept the shame of an imperial investigation, he knew that if it was that the emperor even suspected that you held rites to her, if he saw the tree you concealed in the hidden courtyard that your entire family would be put to the torch including scions you don’t even know of. Although he claims to be godless Reiji was scared of Izanami’s wrath, or perhaps more specifically the wrath of her followers, those that live in the hills and trees around this place which is sacred to them, he adopted you both despite your shame and even married your sister to his oldest son, thereby taking your lands as his own, because as a disinherited son you had no worth but she was not disinherited was she?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course not,” Crawford said through a smirk, “they were kind to you, when really the only reasons that they did not kill you were that Hirofumi prefers the taste of men to women, and that with your colouring you are said to be blessed of Izanami, perhaps even her reincarnation.”
“Then why didn’t you kill me?”
Crawford templed his fingers across his chest, leaning back on the soft cushion. “I am not a backwards rube like the Takatori, I have no interest in either your families lineage or their wealth. I am entitled to neither, nor do I have pretensions to either. I find you very lovely and I will admit that your flesh intrigues mine.” His smile slowly slipped from his face, “I see flashes of your brilliance, of the wit that the Fujimiya are known for, but mostly I see a spoiled boy in love with his own despair, and that has no interest for me, if you can be no help to my machinations then take the hair pin that you hold so secretly, but I am not supposed to know of and open those veins of yours, I will not gainsay you, hell, I’ll even bury you underneath the tree.”
Aya’s fists were so tightly clenched that Crawford thought that the skin of his knuckles would break, “what proof against the Takatori do you have?”
At least, Crawford thought, that the brat was willing to listen. “Your sister is with the empress to protect her from Hirofumi, he has a boy in court who reveals everything to an associate of mine, you know him, Sohma Hatsuharu.”
“The man with all the earrings and the white hair?” Aya asked.
“Exactly, he is a scion of the empress herself, but still an Imperial Negotiator, Hirofumi revealed everything to the boy after he spent his wedding night with him, Haru told the empress because she is fond of your sister, she finds her innocence refreshing. Haru’s report was taken from Edo to Kyoto and to the imperial negotiators and the ear of the emperor himself. The Emperor heard the report and decided that of all of us that I would be sent here to find the truth of it and then destroying the Takatori, Saijou Takatori was incredibly helpful, he told me how Reiji had planned it contrary to his order and that Shuichi had known and did nothing to help, this was enough for the emperor to order the destruction of their house.” He stopped, “Saijou has allied himself to me because he thinks I only play his sons against each other and will therefore promote the claim of his chosen heir, Mamoru-oujo. The emperor has decided that of all of them only Mamoru is to be left alive. There is to be no mercy shown because the emperor liked your father, and even the Taira have stood in their defence. Because I need to be seen to be affiliated with the Taira I have encouraged your friendship with Sano because I know that you are loyal so that I can trust your fidelity with him. Even if he desires you I know that you will not act against me, that if you will not take me to your bed that you certainly will not take him unless I tell you to.
“But you belong to me, Fujimiya, and if you take another lover then I will punish them, if you take a confidant I will use my influence to have their ear drums pierced, if you show your body to someone else I will cut out their eyes, if someone touches you I will cut off his hand, I alone own you, and only I get the right to look on your beauty, only I get the right to touch you. If you want to be my ally then you will listen to what you hear, you will report to me everything you hear, whether it is Rukia who says it, or just a servant in the side, and you will bring this information to me. We cannot hide like this for long periods of time so you will have to find a way to bring me this information.”
Aya raised his eyes for the first time, his cheeks were flushed with rage in the light from his grandmother’s mandala, then he opened his robe and let it fall about his feet, “You said that you would not touch me if I did not touch you first, you came here to avenge my parents, my body is the least of what I can give you.” He ran his fingers down his chest, “you have been a good master, if I lie with you then you can talk to me in private, no one will question what we whisper to each other. Do you lust after me, master, do you want my body?”
“Do not tempt me, boy,” Crawford said standing up, “come back to me when you know what you ask for.”
“How can I?” Aya clenched his fists again, “when your rule dictates that none but you can touch me, I cannot even learn of my own body without your eyes upon me, was that not your rule.”
“Then touch yourself,” Crawford said, “where I watch you, lie back against that cushion and touch yourself so that I can see.” Aya’s blush spread from his chest, up the slim column of his neck and over his cheeks, nose and ears, but he did as he was told. “You wish to please me, Fujimiya,” the sound of his family name seemed to have an effect on Aya because he blushed even more, “my Aya no bara, then do exactly as I say, without deviation, now use your palms to part your legs ward so that I can see better.” Aya did, his cock was sleepily limp against his thigh and the blush was spreading down his entire body. Crawford found it charming. “Lie back further,” he said quietly, “as far back as you can, put your left hand in your mouth, bite down on your fingers, I don’t want to hear you.” His instructions were clear and slightly sinister, “yet.”
Aya closed his eyes; Crawford supposed it was easier that way for him.
“Shift a little, so that you are as flat as you can get on the cushion.” Aya did so that Crawford could see everything, even the ruddy blush between the cheeks of his ass. “Use your right hand,” he told him, “and make slow pulls from the base to the very tip, use your palm more than your fingers, take your time.”
Aya did, slowly tugging along his flaccid cock. “Use your left hand, rub your nipple so that I can watch.” Aya did, “lick your fingers, then do it, make sure your fingers are wet,” Aya’s innocence was part of the joy of the show. And Crawford was enjoying the show.
Aya did what he was told because he simply did not know better, he did not know how to touch himself, how best to please himself, which places he liked to touch best and how to touch them. Crawford manipulated that relentlessly. He saw how Aya obviously wanted to touch harder, to touch faster as his hips raised, almost against his own will, to follow his hand as it pulled and his organ swelled and rose to his touch.
A gasp escaped him, he seemed surprised, “take your right hand and cup your balls,” Aya frowned but placed his hand where he was told, “roll them around, enjoy the feel of them, what do they feel like?”
“Hot,” Aya gasped, “heavy,”
“What do you want, my Aya no Bara?” Crawford’s voice was low and seductive and in the grill the mandala crackled and popped, throwing the colour its light across milk white skin. His nipples were a soft pink such as on a pale new rose, but his erection, rather than being an angry red, such as it might be on anyone with darker skin, but was rather a rich rose colour, like on a sweetened candy. Crawford could see the jumping and rippling of the muscles on his thin stomach. It was a pleasant sight but he still thought that Aya could do with eating more.
“I want, Master, I want to,”
“Tell me, Aya, you told me earlier.”
“I want you to let me come, I want, Master, please.” His voice was hitching as the fingers of his left hand rubbed first one nipple and then the other with fingers that he stopped to wetten. “I want, master, please.”
Crawford was enjoying the begging but he had no intention of letting the boy give in yet, he was enjoying the dancing of muscles, the way his breath caught unevenly. His own cock was hard and heavy against his stomach, but he was not a boy giving in to the first pleasures of his own hand, he had no intention of rushing this. When the boy was pleasantly sated, when he was lazy and his muscles were lax then he would have the boy touch him with those tremulous hands, or even that nervous mouth.
“Your left hand, wet it, soak your fingers as much as you can.” Aya brought his fingers to his mouth just as he was told, “your right hand, just hold your erection, rub your thumb over the top, spread the wetness, enjoy it, my Aya no Bara, I want to see your pleasure.”
Aya was making half vocalisations, soft noises and there was moue of discontent between his eyes, they were heavy lidded almost closed and his mouth hung open.
He looked more than good enough to eat, the muscles of his arm pulling as he fought desperately to obey where his entire body wanted him to give in, to move his hand to a quick completion. “You do your duty so well,” Crawford crooned to him, “my beautiful boy, my beautiful Aya no Bara,” Aya’s hips were lifted completely off the cushion, “use your fingers, my beautiful boy, slip your wet finger inside yourself.”
“Master?” Aya was querulous but needy.
“Give me your hand,” Crawford said rolling free of the cushion to kneel in front of Aya, between his thighs so that nothing obscured his view, Aya held out his hand, he stretched out one finger and placed against his ass, rubbed once, then twice and then pressed the very tip inside. Aya arched, “I want to watch you,” Crawford said, rubbing his cheek against the inside of Aya’s thigh. “I want to watch you touch yourself, I want to see you explode for pleasure and know that my pleasure is from yours.” He pushed Aya’s finger into the first knuckle, watching the boy arch and sink into it. Aya had gone past words, he was vocalising, and making gasping noises and grunts and Crawford was hard. It seemed the boy liked being watched, and Crawford liked to watch him, because the boy was beautiful and Crawford knew exactly how tight inside the boy was.
The boy was rocking on his finger, his thumb rubbing the very tip of his cock. “Master,” the boy pleaded, “please.”
“What, Aya? Tell me what you want.” Crawford’s voice was low and raspy, his breath running along the meat of his thighs. He could even feel the stubble of his cheek against the inside of his knee.
“More, please,” Aya gasped, his head falling back and lolling against his cushion, “please, master, more.”
“Tell me, Aya, tell me.”
“I, oh god, master, please.”
“Tell me, Aya, and I will do it, tell me.”
“God, master, I might go mad, please.” His hips were high, pushing himself into his hand, bearing down on his finger.
Crawford took Aya’s hand from his ass and wet the second finger then pressed the two of them back in.
“Master,” Aya gasped, “oh god, please.”
Crawford undid the straps of his hakama, “tell me Aya, tell me.”
“Oh god, master, oh please god,”
“You have to tell me, Aya, tell me what you want.”
“Touch me.” Crawford pulled out Aya’s hand and pushed his cock against his opening, “master, please.” And Aya, driven half mad with lust, demanding and pleading, pressed him inside.
“Gently,” Crawford soothed, softly, “my beautiful Aya, gently, I don’t want to hurt you, shush,” Aya’s head was thrashing back and forth, his hands fallen away from his erection to clutch uselessly at the cushion, then wrapped his arms around Crawford’s back, “let me, my beautiful boy, let me.”
Aya did, he let him inside with his muscles relaxing then he began to tug him closer, trying to drive Crawford to sate his lust. His nails were trying to clutch him, with his fingers catching in his haori, pulling, lying naked under Crawford who was completely dressed, the front flap of his hakama released and buried cock deep in his concubine.
“Please, master,” Aya gasped into his ear, “please.”
“Let me,” Crawford said, “let me be good to you.” So Aya did, letting Crawford slip and slide out of him. He couldn’t stop himself arching up to meet him, trying to push Crawford further inside him, because it felt wondrous and new, it felt like the world was ending, and this time, Aya noticed, there was no pain, only need and wanting.
He threw back his head as he came, his entire body given over to it, his hips jerking and the feel of Crawford inside him become larger and more wondrous, and all the fight slipped from his body, thinking this of all things, was heaven.
Crawford’s ejaculation was a hot wet slap inside him and it surprised him not only how tired he was afterwards but how safe he felt with Crawford’s weight pressing him into the cushion, safe warm and contentedly tired, Aya fell asleep.
Glossary
Ameratsu – The Sun goddess of Shinto
Aneki – older sister
Bikiko - Hel
Dairai – imperial court
Daimyo – a landowner or lord.
Danna – a patron
Doitsujin - German person
Ecchi – pervert
Edo – another name for Tokyo
Fundoshi – a wrapped loincloth worn by men
Gaiden – legend
Gaijin – Foreigner
Gei - art
Genkan – small area in front of the door where shoes are kept
Genki – chipper
Geta – a type of sandal, named for the sound they make
Hakama – split culottes
Hanzubon – shorts
Hikarin – Schoen
Horimono – Japanese tattooing
Iki – sense of style.
Juni Hitoe – Lit twelve layers
Kaasan – Mother
Kawaii – an exclamation of something’s cuteness.
Kimi – she who is without equal.
Kimono – a decorated robe
Konketsu – half-breed.
Kyu – the lowest ranking in Go
Minarai – a time of learning by imitation
Mizuage – a deflowering ceremony
Moku – two corresponding lines in go – marks one area
Monogatori – lit: story of a person; romances or stories
Nagajubon – a light white kimono worn under the more ornate robes
Natto - fermented soybeans
Nigiri – a pressed rice ball
Nihonjin – Japanese person
Noh – a type of drama performed with masks
Obi – the wide belt used to fasten a kimono
Okaasan - mother
Omemie - Neu
Omusubi – wrapped rice balls
Onmyoji – sorcerer
Ouji-sama – your highness.
Seppuku – ritual suicide by disembowelling
Seppun – the act of pressing mouths together- the worst of all perversions.
Shibari - the art of rope tying
Sumimasen – the most formal way of apologising
Tabi – split toed socks
Takoyaki – fried balls of octopus and flour
Tansu – a Japanese chest. This is a distinct style
Tanto – a short bladed sword, usually used by women, part of a set
Tatami – a mat, rooms are measured by tatami
Tayu – a very high-class courtesan, also called an Oiran
Usagi - Todt
Yukuta – a light cotton kimono worn for sleeping or festivals
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