by Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of “The Blonde Samurai”

I am delighted that you have returned today to follow my Pillow Book posting, but I must admit that I dawdled, rummaging through the Valford Chest for my articles of make-up, wherein I discovered a most unique treasure I had forgotten that I’d given to my samurai.

Three pubic hairs. Neatly wrapped up in red silk.

And now that I have your undivided attention, I shall tell you how that came to be.

As I wrote in my memoir, The Blonde Samurai:

“We drank sake in small porcelain cups, me filling his cup, then him filling mine, both of us interacting in a rich, sensuous and cerebral ritual that was but a prelude to what happened next. I pray you will forgive me for the lack of words between us—we barely spoke, our need for each other so evident in our eyes. Intense longing swelled within me, but we didn’t kiss, since such playfulness was considered the tool of the courtesan.

“I sipped the warm rice wine, relaxing as he stroked me with a rare degree of concentration and sensitivity to my needs, taking time to play with my nipples, a moment so sensuous I thought I could never put a cup to my lips again without his fingers pinching my brown buds. Rolling his thumbs over my hard peaks then pulling on them, making me squirm, and manipulating them with the same care I would later discover he showed toward testing the sharpness of his blade.

“I remained still when he massaged my earlobes then my breasts with an oil I recognized as jasmine, its lightness and delicate fragrance luring my senses with a promise yet to come. He rubbed it between my legs and around my throbbing pussy lips, delighting in teasing me, then he poured oil into my cupped palm, indicating I should drip oil on the head of his cock.

“I nodded then carefully rubbed it on the sensitive underside, then he pulled me closer, whispering to me. I followed where his eyes told me to go on his broad chest, his thighs, his cock, our bodies heating up as we teased each other, emitting sweat scented with a veiled fragrance.

“The air dragged heavy with our body heat, his mood softening, mine becoming feverish. Throats parched, I poured more sake for him and he brought it to his lips, watching me. He drank greedily, the wine drizzling down the sides of his mouth, then he eyed me across the cup, waiting for me to drink the wine he poured for me. Teasing, wanting, I, too, drank quickly, eager to see what would happen next, when he surprised me by snapping open a large gold fan. Playful, laughing, fanning himself as samurai do in a society where the art of being cool is genderless.

“I leaned in closer, offering my breasts for his touch. His eyes widened, then he rubbed my nipples with the fan, stinging them in a pleasant manner. I threw my head back, moaning, enjoying the sensation, wanting more. Giddy from the effects of the sake, I grabbed his fan and danced around him, slapping it across my buttocks, then rippling it over my pussy and teasing him mercilessly until he could bear no more. Speaking to me in a firm tone, he bade me lie down upon the silky white futon while he placed a pillow covered with shimmering gold silk under my head, its coolness soothing my flaming cheeks.

“The real pleasure came when he parted my thighs and leaned over me, taking his time to observe me with a quality about him that transcended warrior and Occidental, but with a poetic sensitivity of the man himself. I jumped when he pulled on the light-colored hair on my pubic mound as if he were tugging on the strings of a lute, grinning at finding them so fine and silky yet wiry. I smiled back, then a daring idea came to me, inspired by a song I’d read about in the native works translated for me.

“Without shyness, I plucked three hairs from my pussy and presented them to him as a souvenir. He laughed and I felt privileged to see a rare glimpse of emotion when his eyes softened, then he took my pubic hairs and wrapped them in a piece of red silk before sliding his fingers into me. It sets my teeth on edge as I write, thinking about his fingers probing me and though he found me tight, his touch intimate, he didn’t stop, but kept going, exploring without trepidation… “



Why not give his lordship strands of your pubic hair tied with a pink ribbon to carry in his handkerchief? You need not tell him from where they came…unless you want to.

‘Tis a naughty idea that is certain to bring a smile to his face.



The Blonde Samurai“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”

The Blonde Geisha
Cleopatra's Perfume One whiff and every man was her slave Jina Bacarr