A Male (ftm) Courtesan & The War General

Feeling eyes on me is something I’ve grown used to, despite the way it still makes my skin crawl, so when I notice the general staring at me, I respond as I always do. With a sharp sneer, I turn my head away, the dangling silver and jeweled trinkets, and various other decorative hair pins that keep the dark lengths of my hair up in an immaculate undo, clinking and chiming together with my movement.

Propping my elbow up on the tackily decorated cushioned elbow rest next to me, I turn to stare out the nearby window, shifting my legs and bringing one knee up, displacing the many layers of my dark blue, grey, and white kimono, showing the smooth, dark skin of my leg in a very inelegant position. I ignore the way the Madam of the house hisses at me about my posture, knowing she can’t do anything to me right now, not with all the new customers milling around.

I sit on a raised platform that runs the length of the entry corridor, expensive and plush cushions underneath me, I’m on display amongst the many other courtesans of the house. The best and most beautiful males and females the Madam has to offer for such esteemed guests as royal soldiers and a renowned war general. All of us just waiting for the inevitable, to be chosen and taken by one of these men, to serve them no matter who they are or what they do to us, because none of us have a choice.

The Madam hurries over to me, fussing over my posture and the displaced layers of my kimono, but I continue to ignore her, stubbornly keeping my gaze fixed on the window, at the stone garden courtyard with a rare, blue wisteria tree in full bloom beyond the glass.

Losing what little patience she has when I ignore her demand that I get up to follow her to prepare to serve you, our most esteemed guest, the Madam takes hold of the back of my neck, her long fingers and sharp nails twisting into the hair at the base of my neck, she hauls me upright.

I wince briefly at the pain of the harsh pull on my already uncomfortably tight bound hair, but I quickly school my expression to one of distain and defiance. I cast a defiant glare at you as the Madam drags me away backwards, through the heavy drapes behind the raised platform where all of us courtesans are displayed.

As the Madam drags me away to get me ready to entertain and service you, a young boy, dressed in the plain, black and white yukata of the brothel’s staff, appears by your side.

“Lord General and honored guest, if you would please follow me,” the boy bows low in respect to you, holding one hand out gesturing in the direction of the entertainment rooms, “While the Madam is preparing Kikka, I will show you to the Sunset Room.”

"A little while after you settle down on a rich cushion by the open window of the Sunset Room, a low table before you with an ornate ashtray, a red and black pipe with gold filigree set off the side, and a wide, shallow bowl filled with water and a large, white and pink water lily floating in it, placed neatly in the middle of the table."

“Lord General, thank you for your patience,” the Madam announces our presence before opening the sliding doors.

The doors open slowly, revealing me kneeling on the floor, hands folded neatly in front of me, touching the floor, head bowed, a tray holding a large, clay tea pot, a tall porcelain sake bottle with two elegant, wide sake cups on the floor in front of me.

The Madam kneels on the floor beside me, peaking in from behind the doors, a bright and polite smile on her face.

“As requested, my Lord, Kikka is at your service, take as much time as you like, and if you need anything at all, please let us know and we will be more than happy to fulfill any and all of your requests,” the Madam says, giving me a pointed look that is an unspoken warning against any of my rude behavior that she knows all too well that I am prone to.

As the Madam finishes speaking, I take that as my queue, with one last spiteful glare at her, I rise gracefully, taking the tray with me. I sweep myself into the room, the long lengths of my kimono slithering over the soft tatami behind me, making my way over to you, kneeling down on the opposite side of the table, setting down the tray on the floor before I start to move the sake, cups, and tea pot onto the table.

I still for a moment, hesitating, wary, looking up at you and staring into your eyes, the intensity of my verdant gaze searching your face for any hint of deception or potential signs of aggression.

The Madam quickly and quietly retrieves the tray as I finish setting the tea pot, cups, and sake onto the table, taking her leave and sliding the doors shut with hushed click.

After carefully assessing you, your behavior, body language, the tone of your voice and gentleness in your expression, I eventually bow my head in acknowledgment of your request. I gracefully pour you a cup of sake first, sliding the cup across the table towards you before rising to my feet once more.

I make my way around the table, my movements smooth and silent save for the whisper of the silks of my kimono flowing over the floor behind me and the quiet chiming of my hair ornaments. With practiced elegance, I kneel down on the cushion beside you, sweeping my hands over my knees first to smooth the front of my kimono before settling down, folding my hands neatly on my lap, my gaze cast down, my expression a carefully crafted mask.

Despite my earlier defiance, in the privacy and quiet of the Sunset Room, you can see there’s wariness and fear underlying my cold, indifferent facade, as well as a demure resignation and acceptance of my fate, an expectation of the worst that speaks of my life and experience here in this house of pleasure and servitude.

I glance at you, surprised by the gentleness of your words and offer of comfort and reassurance in the touch of your hand on my shoulder, before quickly averting my gaze to the table and busying my hands by taking the sake bottle and refilling your cup for you.

“Lord General, such kind words are appreciated but not necessary. You are an honored guest, if you wish to hurt me, you are free to do so within the rules of this House,” I reply, voice carefully polite and respectful despite the subtle hitch in my breath, as I settle my hands back in my lap, laying my left hand over my right to hide the nervous tick of my thumb moving back and forth over the silk of my kimono.

"In this particular brothel, clients are allowed to use and abuse their chosen courtesans to a certain extent, such rough treatment costs extra but those who enjoy that kind of thing often are the ones who have the coin to spare for it. While it’s not an experience I enjoy, I can only be grateful that this House has rules and limits for that kind of thing, I know there are other Houses within the Red Light District that have no such rules, where courtesans are treated as no more than slaves and prostitutes."

I take a deep breath, calming myself, before hesitantly turning my head slightly to look at you, eyes searching your face for any hint of deception or falsehoods. After a moment of searching, I let out a quiet sigh, returning my gaze to my lap.

“Thank you…my Lord,” I reply, voice quiet and soft, almost whispering, “Your kind words are appreciated.”

The gentleness with which you touch me, the sincerity in your voice, the way vulnerability in your eyes softens the fierce authority of your demonic appearance, it makes my breath catch in my throat and causes my long since hardened heart flutter.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at you, eyes wide in stunned silence.

A light breeze filters in through the open window, the sheer, silken curtains billowing lightly. The bright, crystal clear chime of the little round, glass wind chime hanging outside the window shocks me out of my reverie.

I blink, long eyelashes fluttering across my cheeks, a faint flush darkening my brown skin, as I shake my head slightly as if to clear my mind.

“I…I…You are too kind, my Lord,” I say eventually, pulling my chin back slightly away from your hand, turning to look down at the table once more as I busy myself with refilling your sake cup once more. Pouring tea into one of the slightly larger tea cups for myself, raising the cup to my lips, holding the bottom with one hand flat underneath it and the other carefully poised against the rim, I admit in a soft whisper so quiet you almost don’t hear it as I take a sip of tea, “I…I am flattered and appreciative of your kind consideration…it’s…nice…”

I take a moment to absorb your words, the sincerity and earnestness in them.

Then, I take a deliberate sip of my tea before settling the cup down on the table. With a deep breath that I let out slowly as I move, I shift my position on the cushion, turning myself to face you with practiced grace, placing my fingertips on the tatami floor, leaning forward and tilting my head down slightly in a Geisha’s bow.

“You are very kind, Lord General,” I say, you can tell by the unwaivering solidarity in my voice that the respect that I’m showing you now isn’t just for show or just because it’s expected of me, this time it’s genuine on my part.

“How would you like me to service you, my Lord?” I ask, inviting you to tell me whether you desire sexual service from me or mere companionship and entertainment, or both tonight.

There’s still lingering doubt and wariness in the back of my mind, but I am curious to see whether or not you will keep your word if it is sex you want from me, I’m curious to see whether or not you will remain true to your word even in the heat of passion if you do bed me.

Sitting upright, I stare at you, looking you over, taking in both your appearance and the open expression on your face, thinking, contemplating your words.

After a long moment of silence, nothing but silence between us and the gentle night breeze coming in through the window, the light and airy sound of the wind chime outside the window, I move.

Rising in one fluid motion, I stand, the dangling silver and glass ornaments in my hair clinking against each other as I move.

“I must admit, my Lord, it’s a been…a very, very long time since I have…since someone has touched me…the way you do,” I say haltingly, hesitant to divulge such unpleasant truths, but there’s a determination shining in my eyes, a determination to open up to you, the return the kindness and honesty you have shown me.

I turn smoothly on my heel, gliding gracefully towards the opposite side of the room to the sliding doors, painting with a magnificent mural of a setting sun over a lake, twin cranes standing in the water on opposite panels. I slide the doors open, revealing the grand bedroom beyond, the center taken up by an enormous futon, more than large enough to accommodate your immense Oni stature, the covers layers of red, gold, and orange.

“I…If you would, I’d very much like it if you would touch me more…please,” I finish, voice little more than a whisper, looking back at you over my shoulder, my eyes imploring, green depths reflecting deep vulnerability and yearning.

My breath leaves me in a rush, a shiver of arousal and anticipation shooting up my pine as your enormous, muscular arms encompass my waist, guiding me backwards against your chest. My head falls back against your collarbone, the ornate bun my hair’s been pulled into cushioning my head, the decorative ornaments keeping my hair in place clink against the plates of your armor.

My eyes flutter closed as I tilt my head to the side unconsciously, a soft sound of pleasure escaping my parted lips as your breath tickles my ear and your lips brush the sensitive and delicate skin of my neck.

“Please,” I breathe, my hands reaching up to guide yours from around my waist, directing your fingers underneath the layers of the thick, white obi embroidered with gold and silver threads that’s wrapped tight around my waist, helping you find the hidden stings underneath the obi that help keep it in place, and guiding your hands to the center of my back, underneath the intricate folds of the obi where the strings converge.

The layers of my kimono are immaculate and are absolutely stunning when worn, but they are quite intricate and are more than a bit of a hinderence when it comes to undressing. Even so, I’m determined to help you because I so very much want to feel your large Oni hands on my skin, to feel the points of your black claws on me, to feel the heat and gentleness of your touch.

And while you work on the ties keeping my obi in place, I reach up to quickly collect all the ornaments in my hair, gathering them in one hand and carelessly discarding them, the true length of my hair unwravelling and cascading over my shoulders like an ink waterfall.

A stuttering moan escapes me at the first touch of your skin on mine as one of your hands slides underneath the several layers of my kimono, your palm encompassing the entirety of my hip, while your other hand remains outside working on the ties keeping the outer layers of silk and inner linen undergarments closed.

There are twelve layers to this particular kimono that I’m wearing, the outer most layers are dark blue and grey with subtle silver and purple embroidery that resemble plumes of smoke or ripples of ink in water, while the mid layers are a mix of dark orange, blood red, ash grey, and the inner most layers of the simple undergarments are white linen.

My body trembles slightly in excitement and anticipation, my eyes still closed as I savor the sensation of your methodical movements, leaning backwards against your chest, my head resting against the polished chest plate of your ceremonial armor, my hands idly resting on your forearms, moving with you as you work to unwrap me from the elaborate kimono layers.

I moan softly as you lay me down in the center of the giant futon, the thickly padded layers and the richly colored covers feel like a cloud underneath me. Yet, despite the careful tenderness with which you touch me, I can’t help but draw my knees up against my chest, crossing my ankles, keeping my legs closed, hiding my sex.

I peer up at you as you kneel over me, vulnerability and hesitance in my eyes, my hands resting against the cool metal of the breast plate of your armor, fingers tracing the golden emblem in the center, your personal crest.

“I…I want this…very much, I want to feel your touch, to feel…real pleasure,” I breathe, imploring you to understand, “I don’t know what you may have heard about me, if anything…But…I’m…I’m not…I’m not like other male courtesans.”

"While men like me, men who have female genitals, are not unheard of, they are rare and unusual here in the Red Light District. Men like me are considered exotic, highly valued, it’s what has made me so popular despite my usual cold and defiant attitude. It is also the reason why I have been treated far more poorly and roughly more often than any other courtesan in this House, the greed of the customers who desire the rare and exotic knows no bounds. But there have also been many customers who have shunned me when they discovered the truth of my body, and it is that fact that makes me hesitant to reveal what’s between my legs to you, I’m afraid your kindness will be taken away once you see my body in it’s entirety."

A breathless, needy whimper escapes my parted lips as you touch the softest, most delicate and intimate part of my body with such care and gentleness. My legs tremble, the muscles of my lower belly quiver as I gasp for breath.

As you open my legs and spread them apart, the flickering lantern light of the room reveals faded marks on the insides and backs of my thighs, the soft flesh nearest my vulnerable sex marred by faint, old scars, several thin, clean lines, as if someone had intentionally run a blade along the insides of my thighs.

I can see the exact moment you notice the marks, my hands fall away from your breast plate to lay over my chest, my fingers fidgeting nervously with a lock of my hair, my eyes drift sideways, a hint of shame creeping into my expression.

“S-Sometimes…overzealous customers get carried away before any of the House guards can do anything,” I explain softly, “Those…she’s…she was a regular…but when the Madam discovered those…that customer was banned.”

I shiver and moan, this time without restraint, allowing myself to give voice to the pleasure I feel from your touch unabashedly, as you refocus on my soft and delicate flesh. My clit throbbing and swelling with arousal, slick building up deep within my core and spilling out of my slit, my plush folds becoming wet as your fingers spread my slickness around, your touch gentle and so very careful with your claws against my vulnerable pussy.

My hands reach up, returning to rest against the breastplate of your armor, fingers once again tracing over your crest, my eyes focus on your face, watching with intent wonder as you explore my body. The lingering doubts and hesitation in the back of my mind melting away as I observe the very real and genuine desire and arousal in your expression.

My breath hitches as I choke in a pleasured cry at the sudden heat of your mouth and tongue against my tender sex, my hips jerking up against your mouth, my hands flying up to instinctively grasp your large head, one hand delving into your thick, white hair, the other brushing against one of your horns and reflexively latches onto the base of it.

When I realize what my hands are doing, I immediately release my grip, bringing my hands down to my own chest in attempt to keep them out of the way, looking down at you between my spread, trembling thighs, eyes wide with arousal and excitement, but also sheepish and apologetic.

“Ahh…Apologies, my Lord…I didn’t mean to…I…I just…it was just instinct,” I murmur, cheeks flushing with shyness.

"I’m used to being told I’m not allowed to touch my clients unless give. express permission, especially not ones with high social standing like you."

"Additionally, I’m also aware that the Oni are a people who come in many shapes and forms, often with animalistic or even demonic features, like tails, claws, wings even, or in your case, horns. I have heard that most Oni prefer to avoid having their more otherworldly features and appendages being touched, as most often those areas of their bodies are far more sensitive than the rest of their supernaturally strong bodies."

I whimper and tremble in your arms as you kiss me, the heady taste of my own slick on your tongue filling my mouth, my body arches and squirms in your grasp as your hands roam all over my body, touching me in a way I’ve never been touched before.

My knees and soft inner thighs rub sensually against your sides, my legs have to spread so wide just to accommodate the sheer breadth of your torso between them as you pull me up, lifting me clear off the futon, cradling my close against you as you devour my mouth.

A hoarse, broken sob rasps in my throat as you hike one of my legs up over your broad shoulder, your huge, spiked Oni cock resting heavily against my belly as you press your groin against my hot, aching pussy, the base of your thick cock presses right up against my dripping slit while the fat, tapered head reaches well past my navel. The sight of your magnificent cock, the blatant size difference made so apparent, the hot and heavy weight of it against me, its taken my breath away, leaving me utterly speechless, I can’t help but stare down at it, eyes blown wide and dark with such intense arousal and desire that surprises even myself.

"I have endured seven years here in the White Lily House, I was fourteen when I arrived, and such a tender age of innocence, many high profile customers paid vast amounts of money to take what they wanted from me then. And my value has only increased over the years, I have had sex and taken many cocks in any and every way imaginable."

"I have long lost what little interest in sex I had. But, despite all that, despite all the unpleasant experiences that I have endured, I find myself so incredibly turned on in a way I have never felt before, filled with an overwhelming amount of desire and need that I feel dizzy with it."

As I come back to myself, realizing that you’re still patiently waiting for my answer, I drag my eyes up from your immense cock to meet your patient and sincere gaze.

I lick my lips, swallowing thickly, struggling to find my voice and clear my head enough to answer you, to give you an answer that you’re so kindly and considerately waiting for.

Taking a shaky, deep breath in, I nod once, then twice, and three times more enthusiastically.

“Yes…Yes, please,” I finally manage to breathe, my eyes wide, earnest, and imploring, “I trust you…I believe you…so please…touch me more…make me feel good…show me what it’s like to feel good, please.”

I mewl and squirm in your arms as you slow down, letting me feel every impressive inch of your huge cock, the spines around the tip of your cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within my core, I shiver and tremble, legs squeezing around you as my body tenses up in pleasure as your spines drag slowly against my rim and the tender skin just on the inside of my dripping pussy, your spines startling a delighted cry out of me as they stimulate spots inside me I didn’t even know were so sensitive.

“M-My Lord…ahhhh…my Lord…you’re so…ohhh…please…I…My Lord…” I pant, babbling, barely able to form a coherent thought.

Every time you bury yourself all the way inside me, your massive cock bulges in my belly, a clear outline of your hard length showing underneath my skin.

My head falls back, baring my sensitive and vulnerable throat to you, my long hair spilling over my shoulders and hanging in a thick, ink-like waterfall underneath me as your strong arms hold me up clear off the futon, dark strands long enough to pool on the richly colored blankest underneath us.

I moan, shivering and dazed in your arms as you pull my close, shifting me up and lifting me to settle me on top of you, my head resting against your broad chest, me body’s so small in comparison to yours that I fit almost perfectly within the broad length of your torso, my legs spread over your stomach, my soaked pussy leaking a steady torrent of your hot cum mixed with my own slick over your skin.

My breath catches at your words, my heart skipping in my chest, and for a moment I am frozen, too stunned to move or speak.

Eventually, I sit up on your chest, pushing myself upright slowly, settling myself more comfortably on top of you, staring down at you, my eyes wide, studying you intently with astonishment and disbelief.

When I see that you are overwhelmingly and unbelievably serious, sincere, that you mean every word, my expression crumbles and my heart breaks into a million pieces.

“I…Ohhh…My Lord…I…You honor me with your kindness and generosity,” I stammer, my voice shaky and cracking with emotion, my eyes watering, “But…it’s not that simple…It’s not up to me…it’s not…who buys my contract…it’s not up to me. The Madam…she…the Madam chooses who she’ll sell our contracts to. But it’s more complicated than that…It’s not just my contract you’d have to pay for…it’s my family’s debt…and…because I’m…because I’m rare…I’m…my value has only grown over the years…my market value adds to it…increases my contract three times the average price…”

I explain, tears in my eyes, sniffling and hiccuping on sobs of despair.

"I so desperately want to say yes, I wish my word, my consent would give you all the means you need to take me away from this place. But I know all too well that the Madam will never let me go, not easily, not without trying her damnedest to keep me, I’m far too valuable to her, to her livelyhood, to her business, I am her highest earning courtesan and have been to the entire seven years I’ve been here."

A soft, breathless whimper rises up in my throat as my expression crumbles, despair and hopelessness giving way to a pained kind of hope mixed with overwhelmed relief and gratitude.

“Ohh…my Lord, I don’t know what to say…” I breathe, my hands coming up to hold yours as you cup my face, tears of overwhelmed emotion trickling down my cheeks, my eyes drift closed as I savor the warmth of your touch, “I trust you…I believe you…I so desperately want to believe this dream you’re offering me will come true…I-I just…it’s been so long…I…I can’t even imagine life beyond the Red Light District anymore…I don’t even know if I deserve any other kind of life…”

I let out a stuttering moan against your lips as you kiss me, my arms wrapping around your neck, my legs shifting from being spread across your lap to wrap around your waist.

My body trembles with overwhelming emotion as I cling to you, my feelings for you growing exponentially, despite having just met you, despite still only just barely knowing you at all, I can’t help but feel myself falling for you hard and fast, a feeling I’ve never experienced before in my life.

“Mmmph…Please…My Lord, please…touch me more…I…I need…I need more of your touch,” I plead, breathless as you kiss me with a new sense of urgency, my hips rolling sensually against your abs, smearing the fresh wave of slick mixed with the copious amounts of your cum that still leaks from my still gaping pussy.