Wednesday, June 22, 2005

A Man And A Woman: The curse of the monks hand
*episode 3*

Miroku tries desperately to get away, but Akume’s grasp, although gentle as a lover’s caress, is unyielding. Finally, having backed up to a tree, Miroku drops his staff and grabs her wrists, wrenching them off of him. Allowing her hands to go freely, Akume presses her body against his in a very intimate fashion. She says, “Now, now, gorgeous man. Plenty of time for that later.” Flipping her around so that she is the one pressed against the tree with her arms at her sides, the monks tells her, “For one of Naraku’s incarnations, you seem very weak Unless...” She gives a small chuckle and says, “...yes, unless. Unless I’m not even trying to fight you. Such thoughts must lead you to wonder if fighting is not what I have in mind. As I said, there will be time for bloodshed later. Also as I said, I want to sleep with you.” Miroku asks, both perplexed and angry, “Why would I bed an incarnation of my worst enemy ? ” She says, “Because from the moment you laid eyes upon me it is all you have thought about, and because I have wanted it for as long as I have existed. You are the most desirable male to any woman born of Naraku. Not that either of the ice princesses would have admitted it. High and mighty bitches! I, on the other hand, make no secret of it. Come now beautiful boy, by sunrise one of us must be dead. That leaves us hours to pass. Why not spend them pleasantly.” That said, she pushes her lips against the monk’s which eagerly receive them. Summoning every measure of his strength, Miroku pushes himself away from her and stagers to the middle of the clearing. Akume walks up behind him and reaches her arms around him, rubbing his chest through his robes. She says, “Surely you will defeat me, would you deny me this one request? Or do I have to beg you?” Pressing up against his back, she whispers in his ear, “Please Miroku, make love to me. I need you...I want you...so badly.” Miroku knows all the reasons why he must not give in. He knows that it is probably a trap, that nothing about Naraku can be trusted, and that he is allowing the same weakness which doomed his grandfather to control him now. But he also knows that a beautiful woman is begging him to take her, right there, right then. A battle wages within him between his desire and his reason. Finally, the battle is decided. He turns in her arms and presses his lips to hers. An arm goes around her shoulder, crushing her to him. His other hand goes to her butt and begins to stroke. Feeling this, Akume moans into Miroku’s mouth and the last vestments of self-control vanish from his mind.
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