Stealing Life From The Samurai

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A/N: The rough draft for this story was written shortly after the premier of episode 2 of season 5 of Samurai Jack. At the time, reasonable assumptions were made about certain aspects of the Daughters of Aku. A few episodes later, at least one of those was completely flipped on its head. I thought about going back in and rewriting the part that doesn't make sense under the new canon, but decided against it. I figured I'd preserve it, to give future generations insight into what we all thought we knew about the Daughters of Aku.

Also because I'm lazy.

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They had been chasing him for only a few hours, long enough for the sun to set and the moon to rise. Yet, the ferocity of their pursuit made it feel like days to Jack. The fire in his chest refused to relent, even as he felt his legs rebelling against his desire to escape. The coming night gave him darkness to utilize, to hide, but they too were able to use the shadows. Better than he could.

Jack wasn't sure how many of them there were. One? A dozen? Hundreds? They moved with such blinding speed that he could never tell. It had to be more than one, at least, he told himself. No creature, natural or machine, could move so fast as to strike both his chest and his back, in different directions, at the same time. Had Aku finally sacrificed the element of terror and intimidation he liked to put into his machines, for the sake of speed and elegance? Pure killing machines, nothing made to strike fear from their appearance. Only their actions.

With each hiding spot found, Jack was afforded a few moments of rest, to steady his breath and focus. Yet they were becoming more frequently exposed. They were learning his patterns, his movements, and he had next to nothing on them. Jack had grown careless, and rather than take in his surroundings, fully, from his new hiding spot, he dashed out, hoping to find another area before they caught him. The clouds began to part, and the light of the moon shone down into the clearing in the woods that may become his tomb. The moment his foot stepped into the light, Jack felt the stinging force of the pursuer slam into his back, launching him into the middle of the illuminated clearing. Before he could curse himself for his foolishness, the sound of speed danced around him, and he soon found himself pinned on his back to the ground.

Seven, there were seven of them. One on each arm, straddling his forearms and pressing down on his biceps with their hands, using their weight and exploiting his exhaustion to keep him pinned. One on each shin, straddling similarly to his arms. A fifth svelte assassin rode on his abdomen, with its thin hands pressed down onto his exposed chest, his clothes having almost all been shredded throughout the pursuit. His dignity was kept through a minor bit of cloth. A pair of warm thighs squeezed around his head, disallowing him from looking around. Warmth, that was odd, he thought. Machines were cold, and hard. This one, all of them, were soft and warm. He could almost feel blood pumping through the bodies that were pinning him down.

The seventh stood, staring down at her prey, weapon in hand. Her companions looked at her with their same, expressionless, white masks, waiting for her to fulfill the destiny that had been thrust upon them since birth. She watched his chest rise and fall rapidly, his heartbeat and heavy breath the only sounds in the clearing. He was not a demon, nor magic, nothing. He was a man. A man who had been terrorizing their great master, Aku, for far too long, and one who had to be dealt with. Yet how could a man be the cause of such woe? Though her experience with the outside world was only days old, there were a few things she knew as absolute. One was that the samurai must die. The other was that Aku was everything, the creator of all beauty and granter of all strength. Even against all the strength that was Aku, this man, this human, had been such a thorn in her master's side that she was given life. She was trained from birth to fight, to kill. Her suffering was all due to him. Staring at him, she did not feel the same level of hatred she had in her training, in the moments before his bare skin and sore muscles were revealed.

"Do it," one sister said.

"Finish it," another said with more venom.

"Kill the samurai!" the six said in unison.

"No," the standing woman said through her ceramic mask.

"Do you seek to betray your destiny?" a sister asked.

"Do you seek to betray us?" another added with a hiss in her voice.

"No," she repeated. "We will take his life," she clarified, "after we take from him the seeds of life." Though they all understood her meaning, it took Jack a few moments to piece together the meaning of the words. The women examined Jack from behind their masks. Growing up, they had known only women, and their shapes. The only man they knew about, was Jack. He was constantly on their minds, from birth, through their childhood and teenage years, until now. Not one among them could honestly say she hadn't thought about what it would be like. "His seed will make our order stronger, strong enough to be worthy of Aku's blessing." Hearing no protest, the standing sister set to begin.

As the thunder clouds moved in, Jack was granted only a brief glance at her face as the mask was removed, before the light of the moon was eclipsed by the coming storm. He saw only flashes of her undressing, thanks to the persistent lightning strikes that signaled the coming rain. With every flash, he saw, for only a moment, a new womanly curve. Young, perky, full, breasts being exposed. The gentle arch of the back. The roundness of the hips and butt. The long, smooth, stretch of the legs. He felt movement on his body. As soon as the weight upon his torso was lifted, it returned, though this time he did not feel the cool leather of their catsuits against his flesh.

Now, against his stomach, he could feel the heat of bare flesh against his own. Again, a weight was lifted somewhere on his body, only to be replaced by another woman. They took turns, changing positions on his body so that he was always pinned, while one girl undressed. The flashes of lightning continued to give him brief glimpses at the changing state. One moment he could make out one of the women pinning him down. Seconds later, with another flash, she was nude. If it was even the same woman.

Eventually the storm clouds moved far enough away from the moon to let in just enough light to illuminate the scene. Seven women, young, firm, tight and nubile, positioned around and against his body.

He could feel the heat between their legs radiating against his skin. One sister licked her ruby lips in hunger. Another bit down on her bottom lip in anticipation. One's body shuddered with excitement, and another unconsciously moved her hips back and forth, grinding herself against his arm. No longer was there a pair of legs wrapped around his head, or a woman being left to stand on her own from him. Now two women, one on either side of his chest, clung to him. Arms crossed across his chest, a hand clinging to the shoulder opposite its owner. Their legs draped across his legs, giving enough room for both them and the women who pinned his shins down.

The first sister, the one who could have taken his life, sat on his lap, staring down at him with her almond shaped eyes. They were all identical, save for their hair style, but there was character in each.

In their body movements, in the way they looked at him. The subtle twitches and clenches that let him know each was identical in looks, but each was unique in spirit. The woman on his lap reached back and stripped away his last remaining garments, leaving him now fully exposed to the world and his captors.

"Prepare him," the woman said before she let herself fall down onto his chest, and thrust her pouty lips against his trembling pair.

"Yes, Ashi," the two at his legs said in unison.

The beard around his mouth tickled and irritated her, completely foreign but enticing. Her lips were sealed shut, at first, but her body wanted more. Softly her plump lips parted, just enough to strike at his lip with the tip of her tongue, quickly like a viper. Finding the taste suitable, Jack was allowed a gentler, longer, interaction with her exploring tongue. Her instincts kicked in, but there were not born of her desire to kill. These instincts were equally as passionate, but different in their goal. She did not want to take life, but celebrate it. Make it.

He had never felt a pleasure like this before. Certainly on his travels, he encountered many beautiful women, and no small amount of them made their attraction to him clear. However, he was singular-minded, focusing only on Aku, and never retired to any to their bed. Now he was experiencing his first kiss, and from a naked woman and her six, equally bare, sisters, grinding themselves against him.

The two women on his legs leaned forward, and started to prepare him with their mouths. Lips kissing, tongues lapping, mouths sucking. All against his twitching manhood, growing with every moaning kiss and shivering nuzzle. It was the first time for all eight people on the ground. The daughters of Aku were trained since birth on how to exploit the strengths and weaknesses of the human body. Though the training was meant to teach to inflict pain, the line between pleasure and pain was a thin one, and easily crossed.

Ashi's tongue danced around in his mouth. Her inexperience would be noticeable to anyone with experience, but neither of them knew better. They only knew that it felt wonderful.

"He is ready," a pair of twin voices sounded from behind Ashi.

A trail of saliva connected her lips with Jack's, for a moment, while she pulled back. For a moment, Jack saw no murderous intent in her eyes, but the same level of attraction that he felt for her. Wonderment in her gaze. Her sisters kept his cock upright and steady, so that Ashi could move down onto it with as much ease as possible. Jack could read the trepidation on her face as soon as his girth began to test the tightness of her. These were not warriors who relented, however, and before long she had engulfed him fully into her. Things began slow. Tender. Teasing. Tasting. But they were all quick studies, and Ashi was able to speed things up before Jack could feel any sort of romantic feelings from the slow love making. Now she was fucking him. Trying to get him to explode and milk him of his warrior's seed.

Ashi's voice cried out in pleasure, entering into a duet with Jack's own groans of delight. He never knew something could feel so good. She was so warm, so inviting. He wanted to live inside that warmth forever. Always studying the world and beings around him, this time was no different for Jack. He stared, transfixed, at her firm, fit, body, writhing on top of him between bounces. Her handful breasts giving little bounces, demonstrating how perky and firm they were on her chest. Those lips of hers sucked on her finger, and he grew jealous of it. Jack wanted that mouth back on his, and if not, then on his body. Watching her pleasing shape, and feeling her youthful pussy squeeze him, Jack held out no longer and let forth his precious gift he wanted to save for someone special, someone whom he could grow old with, back in his own time.

Ashi let out one more powerful, moaning, scream as she felt herself fill up, her own cum mixing with his own. At the height of their shared climaxes, the storm came in full, releasing a torrent of rain onto the orgy of diminishing virgins. Taking a few moments to collect herself, Ashi remembered it was nice to share with your sisters, and started to pull herself off. After he fell free of her grip, he saw a single droplet of him try to escape, only for her to catch it and finger it back into herself. Not a drop would be wasted that night.

One by one the other sisters took their turn, demonstrating their pleasure in different ways than the others, further separating each into her own person. Some whimpered and let out little squeaks. Others moaned deep and guttural. One girl spoke in such fowl language that it caused her sisters to laugh. A couple girls used their hands to massage Jack's body as they fucked him, gaining pleasure from the feeling of his muscles, tracing each hill and valley with their fingertips. While others derived extra pleasure from massaging their own bodies. Loving hands squeezing at their own breasts and thighs, showing Jack just how sensitive and tender they were.

With each new woman, the ratio of pleasure to pain began to shift. It became harder and harder to keep up, and he was growing sore and dry. Yet they would not relent, they would not stop. Even after he had given them seven gifts of life, they continued. Now it was more about their own pleasure than propagating some warrior caste. Their quick transition into depravity convinced Jack they likely were out for their own pleasure than future spawn from the start. When his protests became too annoying, one assassin opted to silence him with her lips, but not the same kind that Ashi had kissed him with. Instead she sat upon his face, grinding her soaking pussy against his mouth, and pressing his nose against her ass. One woman on his arm slid back, and grabbed his arm by the wrist, and urged his fingers into herself. When her sister saw how fun that looked, she did the same to his other arm.

With the fog of pleasure lifting ever so slightly, the pain reminded him of the danger they posed. As soon as they were done with him, they would aim to kill him. So, Jack decided the only way to escape, was to leave them more exhausted than they would leave him. Aided by the slickness of the rain and the distraction of the sex, Jack was able to pull his arms free. Yet, he did not use this to push them off. Instead, he used the opportunity to throw his hands against his current lover's curves, and aid in her massage.

The other women were on guard, ready to end this foolish plan, but upon seeing the face of pure pleasure on their sister's face, they thought otherwise. Throughout the storm, Jack emptied out into each and every woman, at least twice, while each of them found at least three orgasms. In the rain, the most distinguishable characteristic, their hairstyles, was lost, and they all wore the same, wet, look.

Eventually Jack was allowed use of his limbs, the sisters convinced the risk of his escape was outweighed by the pleasure he brought them when he was allowed control. He took them from behind. The young women's bodies were thrust down against the wet earth. Their muddy fronts washed clean as they turned onto their backs, resting for a moment in the downpour of rain and delights.

He traced their curves with his fingertips and mouth. Jack learned a great deal about each assassin. He knew the ones that had the most sensitive nipples. He discovered those that seemed to prefer anal over vaginal penetration. Jack even learned that using violence was enjoyable to a couple, even though it was only a slap against their behind. The one that begged for his hands around her throat was the oddest, but he obliged her. He satisfied the curious desires and sexual discoveries of each and every woman that night.

By the storm's end, the eight lay on the wet ground, with eight smiles, sleeping softly. As soon as he was certain they were dead asleep, Jack made good on his escape, reluctant though he was.