Setsuka bit back a moan as she played with herself, one hand cupping her large breasts, the other kneading her sopping pussy. Her kimono fanned out around her, her sheer purple top stretched over the top of sizeable bosom for easier access to her alabaster titflesh, and her white panties pulled to the side to reveal her shaven pussy. The reason for her excitement slept soundly on his back a few feet below her perch on the barn loft - Heishiro Mitsurugi, the man that had slain her master. And now, the blonde swordmistress would secure her revenge with her own hand - after it finished its current business, of course. Setsuka's arousal grew as she fantasized about what would transpire in a few minutes. It had been easy to track him to this abandoned barn in the desolate wasteland of Soul Edge's influence - a trail of destruction followed the samurai. It would be just as easy to finally destroy him, Setsuka thought to herself as she tweaked her stiff nipples. She'd jump down while he was still asleep, and take his head. Not a fair fight - but there was no point in fairness in taking revenge on the man that must have cheated in order to slay her master, who had taught her everything she knew about swordsmanship.
After that bloody work, Setsuka imagined as her elegant fingers eagerly worked her dripping cunt tunnel, she'd get herself off with his severed head - rubbing her pussy all over her trophy until it glistened with her honey. It was only fair, after what had happened the last time they fought. Setsuka's pleasure-slick vagina pulsed as she remembered the humiliation - her sword knocked away, being forced to her knees with his blade at her neck, the feeling of him using her long blond hair as a leash, the taste of his cock in her mouth, and the feeling of his seed raining down on her face and cleavage. He had left her lying on the ground after claiming the spoils of victory, his jizz painting her body and the kimono that her master had gifted her. Shame had filled Setsuka as her fingers had pushed into her panties to slip into her inflamed pussy as she lay defeated, bringing herself to squirting orgasm as she fantasized that it was her master's cock that she had worshipped, her master's seed that she was scooping off her tits in order to lick clean, her master that had overcome her and taken what he wanted from her body, not the man that had slain him.
Yes... it was only fair that she return the favor, Setsuka thought to herself as she looked down, only to see a sight that made her breath quicken as an even more cruel revenge wiggled its way into her thoughts. Mitsurugi must be having a pleasant dream, Setsuka observed as she gazed at the tent he was pitching in his hakama as he slept - it would be a shame if something were to interrupt that in the worst way.
Setsuka bit her lip to avoid crying out as lust rushed through her, her orgasm bubbling over at the thought of slicing off the samurai's erection. Her voluptuous body quivered, fingers clamping down hard on her stiff dark pink nipple and pearly clit. Her shapely ass humped forward into the air as she squirted, a crystalline spray of her juices launching from her spasming pussy off the loft to soak the wooden floor beneath. It took her a few minutes to recover, her bountiful chest rising and falling with her panting, before she reclothed herself, pulling her top back over her tits and adjusting her panties back over her pussy - the white fabric nearly turning slightly transparent from the wet petals they contained. Setsuka straightened her kimono and climbed down, her sandals making muffled creaks on the wooden floor as she strode towards the slumbering samurai. Time to finish off her unsuspecting target.
Except Mitsurugi was not nearly as unaware as she hoped. True, he had been in the grip of quite a pleasant dream a few seconds ago - a memory of his final victory weeks ago over his rival Taki. The kunoichi clad in a skintight red bodysuit had been a thorn in his side for quite a while. They had clashed several times all across Japan and Europe in the quest for soul edge, each battle ending in frustrating stalemate. It had been particularly frustrating to him, watching hearing Taki's shrill, almost sexual cries as she fought, her massive tits jiggling and bouncing with every motion. She had taunted and teased him each time they fought, flaunting that voluptuous body while laughing at his inability to take her down. He had stared at the kunoichi's round ass retreating into the distance multiple times, another battle ending in her escaping to ambush him at some point in the future yet another time.
So it had come to his delight when he finally overcame her, his sword powering through Taki's defenses to plant squarely into her toned belly. He fondly remembered that feeling of his body pressing into hers as he stepped into his thrust, feeling the rigid tension of battle in her frame dissipate as her mind registered her defeat. His frustration was translated to a cruel sense of victory as he saw blossoms of blood erupt around the cold steel, soaking the front and back of her bodysuit with darker red patches as she bled out. That sense of triumph only intensified as Taki dropped her swords, her hands fumbling desperately over his in an attempt to pull herself off the blade. He had looked directly into her face, drinking in the shock in her teary brown eyes, observing the trickle of blood coming out of the corner of her luscious lips to stain her mask. Her breasts had heaved mightily as she struggled, her engorged nipples catching his eye with their stiffness as they poked out of her bodysuit.
A sense of power filled Mitsurugi as he threw Taki to the ground, forcing his body on top of hers as he beat away her weak struggles. He felt even more satisfied as he penetrated her, when he realized that her pussy was already dripping wet and waiting for him. He wasn't the only one delighted with his victory - it seemed Taki's body was also taking great pleasure from her defeat and complete submission to her rival.
He had fucked her with wild abandon as she bled out, her cries as he took her thick with unwanted arousal. Mitsurugi reveled in the feeling each time her shrieks and wails had raised an octave, feeling her pussy clamping down on his cock as her silky walls twitched in blissful release. Finally, as he released his sticky load into his rival's womb, he had decapitated her, his sword slicing through her slender neck cleanly. The helpless pained orgasmic expression on Taki's face was one he wanted to preserve.
A local alchemist, in exchange for quite a large sum of coin, had helped him with the grisly symbol of his victory he had brought. Now magic preserved Taki's severed head exactly as it was when it had left her body, Mitsurugi's trophy of his defeat of her. Of course, it had a practical purpose also - on many a lonely night on the road, he had enjoyed the memento his rival had unwillingly left for him, forcing his cock into her slack mouth and using it to pleasure himself. He had done so this night, triggering his pleasant dream of his conquest of Taki before Setsuka had intruded upon his temporary dwelling.
That dream had ended a few moments ago, droplets of something wet and warm splashing onto Mitsurugi's face and rousing him from his slumber. Through hazy vision lit by moonlight filtering in through holes in the barn roof, he saw a set of painted toes in thick sandals striding over to him, a familiar kimono trailing behind the woman's strides.
Grunting and grabbing his sword, the samurai vaulted to his feet. Hadn't this bitch learned from what happened last time to stop chasing him? He wouldn't mind a tumble with her again, as she was certainly quite a prize, but she was also a dangerous opponent - her swordwork swift and deadly.
Setsuka cursed in frustration as Mitsurugi awoke seconds before she reached him, her vengeance a bit more difficult now that he was conscious. She considered lunging at him to try to catch him by surprise, but knew better. The samurai was a skilled fighter, and losing her balance could quickly mean her end from a vicious counterattack. Instead she paused and opened up her umbrella, waiting for him to move.
Mitsurugi paused also. Setsuka was every bit the picture of female sensuality in her geisha's outfit. He took in the sight of her - coldly beautiful face glaring haughtily at him, the swell of her large breasts beneath her thin top, creamy thighs boldly exposed by her opened kimono - the flowing garment shifting and offering just a hint of the swordmistress' white panties.
He spoke first, readying his sword.
"You're eager to die... very well then."
Setsuka continued leveling her icy gaze at him.
"My life is not yours for the taking."
As she finished speaking, she casually tossed her umbrella at Mitsurugi, the colorful surface twirling through the air as it fluttered towards him. The samurai ignored it, following Setsuka's feet which were suddenly a blur of motion. He knew what was coming, but the ferocity still surprised as him as he ducked under the parasol and brought his blade up to block Setsuka's attack. Sparks flew through the air as she drove her blade into a clash with Mitsurugi's katana.
"I live only for revenge!" Setsuka spat at him, "You shall feel the wrath of my master's blade!"
Her weight shifted as she disengaged, feinting backwards before attacking Mitsurugi's shoulder with a chop. The samurai angled his body to away from her strike, feeling the steel whistling past his bare skin. He counterattacked with a low slice aimed at Setsuka's shapely legs, which she dodged by leaping backwards, the motion causing her large chest to bounce. The motion continued as she caught her breath, planning out her next move.
Setsuka somewhat regretted using her parasol sheath as a distraction - in a battle of single blades, having some protection would have given her an edge. She eyed its resting place near where Mitsurugi had been initially sleeping. If she could get to it, it would be useful - but for now, this was a lethal battle of swordsmanship, agility, and positioning - neither fighter having any recourse against a counterattack on a missed wild strike.
The brief pause ended as Mitsurugi circled into mid range striking distance, pressing his power and reach advantage over Setsuka's shorter and lighter blade. She deflected two quick overhand strikes, the samurai's blows aimed at knocking her sword out of position for a lethal second strike. Angling her blade had let her avoid that though, and Setsuka closed the gap as she counterattacked, sword thrusting forward.
Mitsurugi was ready, however, twisting his body out of the way and forcing Setsuka to leap back again as his katana cut upwards through the air, his aim to cleave her in two, starting with her pussy. As she landed, Setsuka felt a breeze on her chest, her mammaries jiggling far more than usual. She looked down and saw her purple top fluttering to the ground, Mitsurugi's katana tip having sliced through the thin fabric on its upwards trajectory. Setsuka caught her opponent leering at her revealed breasts, her stiff pink nipples standing out proudly from the round orbs as her face flushed in shame.
She glared at him, anger welling up within her, as well as a strange guilty pleasure at being exposed. Her pussy twitched, dewy droplets of honey gathering as she remembered the last time he had seen her tits, they were covered in his seed.
"At least end your life fighting with honor. You deserve no mercy." Setsuka spat at the samurai.
Mitsurugi laughed at her.
"If you want to kill me, you'd better bring a whole army!"
Setsuka's face flushed further, anger coursing through her. With a yell she dashed forward, breasts wildly bouncing from the sudden motion. Her sword whistled as it cut through the air, aimed at Mitsurugi's neck. The samurai raised his sword to parry the blow, already shifting for a counterattack. But Setsuka was already on the move again, dodging laterally to where her parasol lay. She had caught the warrior flat footed - her forceful feint had convinced him she was attacking out of anger, but she was really after the sheath of her sword.
"This will give me the edge," Setsuka thought to herself, as her off hand closed around the cool lacquered wood. It wouldn't take more than one or two blows, but it would let her attack and defend all at once whereas Mitsurugi was limited to one at a time with his single sword. And one defense was all she would need to land a lethal blow on the samurai. Setsuka's pussy moistened at the thought, her nipples stiffening even further. "Maybe he can get a nice look at my tits before I pluck his eyes out."
Mitsurugi wasn't going to let her get the advantage uncontested though. Snarling, he unleashed another powerful two-handed rising strike, aimed at her center of mass. Setsuka recognized that the blow had enough power in it to cleave through her sheath and smiled as she again jumped backwards to avoid it, tits jiggling. Now the samurai was open, she thought to herself, powerful legs tensing as she prepared to land and instantly dash forward to strike him before he could bring his sword back. Her pussy twitched as it wept its tears of joy - her revenge was at hand.
But that revenge never materialized. As the swordmistress landed, her sandal skidded through a patch of musky liquid, Setsuka's own earlier pleasurable emissions causing her to now lose her balance. Her left arm flailed out as she tried to keep her footing - a fatal mistake. Mitsurugi's sword easily cleaved through her slender arm on its path up, and the samurai was already attacking with the second strike in his combination before Setsuka's now severed arm had even started its descent. The samurai's sword came down on the opposite side of Setsuka's body as Mitsurugi leaned into the strike, the blade slicing through the tattoo on Setsuka's outstretched right upper arm.
Setsuka shrieked in agony as her lovely arms fell to the ground with wet thumps, the clattering of her sword and sheath hitting the wooden floor drowned out by the disarmed woman's wailing. Setsuka's eyes bulged as they bounced around frantically, disbelievingly looking at the two stumps spewing blood where her limbs had once been. She tried to move what was left of her arms but only succeeded in making her shoulders twitch, disrobing the defeated female fighter as her kimono slid off her heaving form and to the ground. Her breasts bounced obscenely as Setsuka stumbled around, gasping for breath in between screams of pain.
"No!" Setsuka cried out. "No! No! Please! No!"
The woman's knees knocked together weakly as she turned around, body swaying drunkenly as she tried to flee. It was to no avail though. Mitsurugi easily caught her from behind, grabbing her long blonde hair and violently throwing her to the floor atop her bloodstained kimono. Setsuka cried out as she landed on her juicy ass, her writhing pulling her wet panties to the side and revealing her lewdly twitching pussy. Her tits jiggled as droplets of her cunt nectar dotted the ground, Setsuka unable to contain the ecstasy her traitorous body was feeling at being overcome by the man she had swore vengeance on.
Knowing that her demise was near, Setsuka did the only thing she could with her legs - obediently spread them open for her conqueror to take her. Shameful, humiliating thoughts filled the defeated swordmistress' head as she presented her ripe pink pussy to the samurai that had cut her down. Setsuka had fancied herself an unstoppable demon of revenge, but she knew she secretly wanted Mitsurugi to tame her again - to cut through her defenses and ravage her, taking what he wanted from her voluptuous body. She had wanted him to take more than her mouth this time - she wanted him to claim her womanhood, punish her and put her into her place as a slave to his cock. Setsuka moaned as these thoughts filled her head, hoping her shameful display would entice Mitsurugi into burying his dick into her silky depths before she bled out.
Luckily for her fantasies, Mitsurugi was quite turned on by Setsuka's defeat and the erotic screaming that accompanied it. He was atop her in a flash, his manhood plunging deep into her pink flower's soft squelching folds. Setsuka screamed again, but this time in pained arousal as he penetrated her. His hands grabbed at her large bouncing breasts as he pistoned in and out of her, using the soft titflesh as leverage while playing with her nipples, the nubs stiff and engorged with excitement. Setsuka's thick thighs wrapped around him, her muscular legs pulling Mitsurugi deeper into her pleasure-wracked loins as her consciousness faded. He could feel her sandals pressing into his back as he drove into her, forcing her to higher and higher planes of pleasure.
Setsuka's tongue lolled out of her mouth as the climax hit her as she expired, blackness filling her vision as ecstasy consumed her body. Her last words had been incoherent rambling, begging her hated rival to take her as his trophy. As Setsuka drew her last breaths, her orgasming pussy clamped down on Mitsurugi's cock, pushing the samurai over the edge. He grunted as he flooded her orifice with his seed, her vagina spasming in climactic death throes milking him for everything he had. The man sighed with pleasure as he battered his cockhead into her womb before pulling out as Setsuka's demise started robbing her body of its elasticity. A mix of their sexual fluids dribbled out of the defeated swordsmistress' gaping pussy as Mitsurugi withdrew and tucked himself back in, eying the sexy blood and cum soaked corpse and pondering what to do with it.
Eventually, Mitsurugi settled on also taking Setsuka's head as a trophy. Her lovely mouth would make a great alternative to Taki's for those nights when he needed to reflect back on the battles that had earned him his prizes. He resolved to make his way back to the alchemist as soon as possible - first, to preserve Setsuka's pleasure stricken expression for his future use, and second, as he pictured the alchemist's alluring curves in her revealing purple outfit, he had a third busty bitch he wanted to fuck into submission and add to his collection.