Part III: Maki
A few years ago, I was in a relationship which, in retrospect, I think could be described as master and slave, even though we never used those terms ourselves. It lasted two consecutive summers. It ended in tragedy, although that had nothing to do with the nature of the relationship. I am reluctant to write about it, but I hope you will give me the chance to tell you the whole story in person.
After it ended I've been looking for someone like him, but to no avail. Then I found your ad, and my hopes are up once more.
As you can probably see from the pictures, I have Asian blood. In fact, I am half French, half Japanese. From your perspective, as a master, I think that's probably the best of two worlds. I combine in one person the liberal sexual attitudes of the French with the submissive nature of Asian women. I hope you will give me the chance me to show you what that means.
The letter and the two photo's Maki had included intrigued him. The photo's, one from the chest up and one which showed her head to toe, wearing pants and a blouse, showed an extraordinarily beautiful young woman with waving black hair and dark, almond shaped eyes. She had delicate oriental features, but with a European touch which gave her face an extra dimension: high cheekbones, a more pronounced jawline, big eyes, a sensuous mouth with perfect teeth and lips just a bit fuller than most Japanese women. Near perfect facial symmetry completed the picture. This was supermodel territory. As far as he could tell, she had a very good body too, although the clothes didn't reveal much.
First he had dismissed her letter as a hoax. She looked too good to be true. Being a banker he knew that if something looked too good to be true, it probably was. But he kept returning to it. Short as it was, the letter seemed to be full of hidden messages. And her mysterious dark brown eyes were somehow beckoning him. In the end he decided he had nothing to loose. He'd take the chance, if it was a joke he would simply move on to the next girl on the list.
She did respond to his email and picked up the phone when he called her. So far so good; maybe not a joke after all, he thought. They made the same appointment as he had done the week before with Julie.
He heard her arrive at the cafe in the park before he saw her. Not because she was loud. On the contrary, it was the sudden lack of background noise that caught his attention. He looked up, and noticed that everybody on the terrace had stopped talking momentarily, watching Maki make her way to her table. They all seemed mesmerized, hypnotized even, and when she entered his line of vision he understood why. He had never seen anyone like this before. This woman was beyond beautiful. She radiated pure elegance and class, her beauty understated but impossible to ignore. She wore a simple, yellow summer dress, rather tight at the top but wider from her hips down to just above her knees, her bare shoulders caressed by her black hair. Elegant matching sandals with heels just high enough to accentuate her perfectly shaped calves. He looked around him. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. People studied her as if she were a priceless work of art. Most of the men were looking at her with an expression of desire, admiration and resignation, an expression that said: “you are incredibly beautiful but so completely out of my league I cannot even begin to imagine what it would be like to be with you.” They would not be able to have a sexual fantasy about this girl. It was beyond their imagination. There was fascination, not jealousy, in the eyes of the women. Except one, an elegantly dressed middle aged woman who was almost drooling with lust. Maki seemed oblivious of the stares, found a table and ordered mint tea. The customers of the cafe in the park shook off the enchantment and carried on with their conversation. The whole scene had lasted maybe ten seconds.
He joined her at her table and they talked. Maki also agreed to go to his place. When both of them were comfortably seated on the couch with another cup of tea, she listened intently to his instructions and replied: “If it's OK with you, I would like to tell you my story, which I think will answer many of your questions.”
“Go ahead,” he replied.
She shifted her body a little and started talking.
“As I wrote in my letter, I am half French, half Japanese. When he was 28 my father was sent to Japan by his company, a large French technology firm, to set up a joint venture with a Japanese company. That Japanese company was owned by my grandfather. My father didn't speak a word of Japanese, so my grandfather asked his daughter to translate and help him find his way around. She was 18 and had just graduated from highschool where she had learned some French. The inevitable happened of course, they fell in love and got married. A year and a half later I was born.
“The age distribution within the Japanese side of my family is very unusual. There is, or was I should say, a ten year gap between all its members. So when I was born, my grandfather was 50, my grandmother 40, my father 30, my mother 20 and my uncle Hiro - my mother's brother, was 10 years old. The first few years of my life we lived in Japan, in a nice house close to my grandparents. Then my father was sent to another country, and that became the usual pattern for us. On average we moved every three years. Before I graduated from highschool we had lived in Japan, Hong Kong, the Philippines, France, the US and Korea. My mother agreed to all of this, following my father around the world, on one condition: every year during the summer holiday she and I would go back to Japan for exactly one month for a family visit. My father would sometimes join us for a week or so, but usually it would be just the two of us – I have no brothers or sisters.
“Right from when I was born, I was the apple of my uncle Hiro's eye. He would spend endless hours entertaining me when I was little. The feeling was mutual, true to the English pronounciation of his name he was my hero. When I got a little older, and he as a teenager was old enough to go out on his own, he would take me to playgrounds, swimming pools, shops, the beach, cinema's. He wasn't the heir my grandfather had hoped for though. During his teenage years he got into trouble more and more often, had bad grades at school, and became involved with gangs. He quit school when he was 16 and moved into his own flat soon afterwards. My grandparents and my mother never quite figured out what he was up to, but it was pretty clear he was leading a life of crime and soon had a leading position in some gang or the other. Nobody in my family ever talked about it though. I think my grandparents simply pretended he had a job. He still visited their house, albeit infrequently, and my grandparents still loved him no matter what. During our summer visits he would be back at the house more often to spend time with us and even sleep in his old room.
“As I got older, my fascination and admiration for Hiro got even bigger. By the time I was 16, I had developed a full blown teenage crush on him. He would still take me out to pools and cinema's and so on, and I tried to flirt with him as much as possible. By now he was 26, handsome, strong and muscled, and in possession of some gang tattoos. He drove a flashy, expensive sportscar. My mother disapproved of him, rightly guessing he was a gang leader, but I didn't mind. I thought he was cool, and in fact I kind of liked the fact that people seemed to be afraid of him. Unfortunately he didn't really respond to my flirting. He did take me to movies my parents would never allow me to see, however, movies with sex and violence, and take me to expensive bars where he would let me have wine or champagne. I felt he treated me like a grown-up, like a woman.
“The following summer I decided I was going to step up my attempts to impress him. I bought the skimpiest white bikini I could find and some other clothes I considered sexy. That year, we went to the pool a couple of times and even though I felt self conscious I tried to show him as much of my body as I could, leaning over him to pick up an apple, or trying to drink suggestively from a bottle of water. He never said anything, but I could feel his eyes exploring my body. Nothing happened, but I felt that I had achieved something nonetheless.
“Then, the night before my mother and I were to go home again, he came to my room to say goodbye. My grandparents were rich and had a big house, and as soon as I was old enough (I was 7 or 8 I think), I had claimed a large bedroom at the end of a long hallway on the second floor, far away from all the others. I noticed he carefully closed the door behind him when he came in. He walked up to me, put his arms around me and hugged me tight. I was trembling a little, he'd never been this close to me. I felt his hard muscles against my body. I was praying it wouldn't stop. Then he leaned back a bit, looked at me and completely out of the blue kissed me. Not just a little peck on my cheek, but full on my lips, his tongue in my mouth, the whole works. He took me completely by surprise. I even tried to turn my head in a first, instinctive reaction. Luckily he was holding my head in his strong hands so I couldn't move it anywhere. I quickly realized my mistake, and started to kiss him back with the passion and clumsiness of an inexperienced 17 year old. I think I even pushed my hips forward. My hands were darting along his back, my tongue finding his tongue, our lips and mouths pushing hard. I felt like I had died and arrived in paradise. The whole thing can't have lasted more than 20 seconds, but in my mind it was a kiss that lasted for hours. He stopped as abruptly as he had started. He said he'd see me next year, and told me to be a good girl in the meantime. No boys! Then he disappeared, walked out of the room without looking back, leaving me behind in a state of total confusion. I had no idea what just happened, and during the following weeks there were even moments when I thought I had made it all up.
“The eleven months until our next trip seemed to last a lifetime. Time crawled by ever so slowly, day after tedious day. I couldn't think of anything but him. I went through the motions at school, passing with decent grades but I was never really interested. I became quite moody and withdrawn, I wasn't very nice to my mother that year. She thought it was puberty. No boys, he had said, and I obeyed. Plenty of boys tried their luck, but I didn't allow any of them to even come near me. In my head I invented a thousand scenario's of what would happen next summer. And every evening before going to sleep I thought of Hiro and furiously fingered myself to orgasm.
“Finally it was the 1st of July again, the day we always travelled. I couldn't sleep on the plane, in spite of flying business class. I was far too excited. When the taxi arrived at my grandparents I expected him to stand there waiting, and imagined jumping into his arms, hugging him and whispering filthy things in his ears. But he wasn't there. In fact, my grandmother hadn't seen him for weeks. I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in my life. I couldn't hide it either. After such a long year of waiting and waiting, he didn't even bother to show up! I could see my mother and grandmother exchange meaningful looks, not knowing what to do or say to make me feel better. I feigned jetlag and went to bed early. I cried myself to a restless sleep.
“I was dreaming of him (who else!) when a hand covering my mouth woke me up. I noticed a body against mine. I was lying on my side and somebody had sneaked in under the sheets and was lying behind me. First I thought it was still my dream. I tried to say something but couldn't because of the hand over my mouth. Then I heard his voice: “Shhhh, don't speak. Don't say a word, don't make a single sound. Nothing. If you do, I will stop and immediately, disappear and never come back. Do you understand?”, he whispered in my ear. I nodded slowly, half awake and still not sure if this was real or not. Then, with his other hand, keeping the first hand over my mouth just to be sure, he began to caress my body. He started at my knees and slowly moved his hand up my thighs. I was wearing just a long t-shirt, without underwear. He pulled me closer to him by my hips. I could suddenly feel his erection, and only now realized that all he was wearing were his boxer shorts. His hand moved underneath my t-shirt now, along my side, up and down my belly, until he found my breasts. He started massaging and squeezing them, finding my nipples, pinching and pulling and turning them between his fingers. It sent shivers down my spine. I pushed my body against his, his muscular chest against my back, my ass against his cock. Next he peeled down his boxer shorts. He pushed his cock between my legs, trying to find my pussy. I pulled up my leg to make it easier, and suddenly I felt the tip of his cock finding its way in. Just an inch or so. I was paralyzed, I just couldn't move. I really wanted this, but didn't know what to do next. I was soaking wet. Then he pushed a little further, the tip of his cock now touching my hymen. He pulled out a little, and back in again. And again. He was teasing me, getting me hotter and hornier by the second. Then the hand over my mouth tightened its grip, and he pushed his cock all the way into my pussy. I could feel my hymen tear. I screamed in his hand. My back arched. It hurt terribly and felt wonderful at the same time. My head was spinning from the pain and the pleasure. The pain being the pleasure, they blurred to become the same thing; and pleasure a word wholly inadequate to describe what I felt, what was going through my body. I had an earth shattering orgasm moments after losing my virginity.
“When my orgasm subsided, he started to fuck me. It was still a bit painful, but within minutes I came again. He did as well after a while, with stifled groans, his free hand roughly grabbing my tits, ramming his cock inside me as hard as he could, squirting into the condom he had been wearing since he had come into my room. All this time his one hand had covered my mouth. Finally he slowly let go, telling me to still not speak a word. He said: “If you want, I will come back same time tomorrrow night, and every night for as long as you are here this month. You can leave the door unlocked. If you don't want me to come back, just lock the door to your bedroom tomorrow night. If I find it locked, I won't come back.” He reached behind him for a towel with which he whiped the blood from between my legs after pulling out his cock. He slid off the bed, and without making a single sound he was gone all of a sudden (later I thought he must have been very good at breaking and entering houses, he moved like a ghost!).
For the second time in a year he left me behind in total confusion, wondering if it wasn't all a dream. But it wasn't, my whole body was alight, tingling, and I could still feel him inside my pussy, together with the lingering pain of losing my virginity. I couldn't sleep anymore, rewinding the film - and masturbating to it - over and over again. Only at dawn I fell asleep, exhausted and exhilarated.
“When I got up the next morning he was gone. My mother told me I had just missed him, and I had to pretend to be even more disappointed than the night before. She assured me he'd be back for dinner. The day passed in a blur. I was in another world but blamed it on jetlag while my mother and grandmother thought it was because I hadn't seen Hiro yet. When he walked in late that afternoon we did a little act with both our mothers as audience, pretending to see each other for the first time.
“Of course I didn't lock my door that night. He slipped into the room at exactly 2 AM. Again I didn't notice him until he was right beside me, despite being wide awake this time. I wanted to say something but he stopped me, this time just his finger against my lips was sufficient. “No speaking,” he said softly. “I will teach you everything there is to know, but you will learn by doing, not by talking. Be obedient, like a good Japanese girl.”
“OK,” I whispered.
Then he kissed me. First on my lips, and just like the year before I kissed him back furiously. Then he kissed my earlobes, my neck, he pulled my t-shirt over my head and kissed my breasts, sucked my nipples, and finally he went down, planting kisses on my stomach until he reached my pussy. I spread my legs for him. He kissed me there, but only with his lips, not his tongue. Then he came up again, slid his cock in my pussy, pushed himself up on his arms and started slowfucking me, all the time looking into my eyes. I stared back, there was just enough light to see all the muscles on his chest and arms. I reached out to touch him, to feel his hard body. I wrapped my legs around him. He fucked me like this for half an hour or so, very, very slowly working both of us to a climax. After he came, he laid down on top of me, crushing me with his hard and heavy body, his cock still inside me. I had my arms and legs around him and wanted to stay like that forever. I was the happiest girl in the world. At 3 PM he got up and left, once again in a flash; one moment he was there, the next he was gone.
“He came to visit me every single night that month. First he took me through a whole range of different positions, fucking me on my hands and knees, me on top, standing against the wall, bending over, arching backwards standing on my hands (all those years of ballet and dance classes payed off there), lifting me up and walking around the room while fucking me, and so on. After about a week, I told him I had my period. Not a problem, he said. He sat down on the side of the bed, put me on my knees in front of him, and told me to suck his cock. He whispered instructions as I went along. I didn't have a clue what to do, so I did everything exactly as he said, licking, nibbling, kissing, sucking wherever he told me to. Being Japanese, his cock wasn't all that long, but it was quite thick, making it still difficult to get it into my mouth. I had to stretch it wide open to suck him. The first night he allowed me some slack, not quite doing it right, but the next night he didn't let me get away with any mistakes anymore. When I didn't manage to take his cock all the way into my mouth, he held my head with both hands and pushed it down. His thick cock stretched my mouth wide open. He pushed it all the way in and held it there until I started to choke. His pubic hair tickled my nose. He let go for a second to let me catch my breath, then pushed me down again. He kept doing that until he came in my throat, spraying hot cum in the back of mouth. When I was finished swallowing and coughing, he told me to lick the rest of his sperm from his cock and swallow it. He liked that so much that he mouthfucked me again right away, this time holding my head still and pushing his cock in and out of my mouth, his cock staying hard all the time, coming all over me for a second time. This time a lot of it landed on my face. He made me drink all of it. After he left that night, I lay awake for a long time. It was the first night I hadn't had an orgasm myself. And yet I felt really good, maybe even better than the nights before. He obviously liked his blowjobs very much, and I was very proud and pleased with myself that I had made him come twice. I decided his pleasure was more important than mine.
“From that night onward, we started with a blowjob every time. He continued to give me instructions until I got it right. The following night he brought some massage oil. After I had sucked him for some time, he turned me over on my stomach and started to massage my back, really nicely. But soon I found out why he had really taken the oil. He pulled down my panties half way down my hips and lifted up my ass a little. Then I felt the tip of his cock against my asshole. I moaned a complaint and pushed my hips down. He roughly pulled them up again and hissed in my ear, telling me to behave. I was scared, I couldn't imagine his thick cock in there, afraid it would hurt. He massaged some oil on my opening and on his cock and started pushing. It did hurt of course, all the more because I didn't open up to him. My mind wanted to please him and accept his cock, but my body instinctively resisted. It took him forever to get in, or so it seemed at least. Finally he broke through, and when the head was in the rest of his cock followed as well. The pain was excruciating, as if he was ripping me apart. Tears were running down my cheeks, but I tried not to make any sounds. He didn't give me any time to recover, but started fucking me in my ass right away. It was rough and painful. When he took my virginity the week before, the pain subsided after a while. This time it stayed. I moaned into my pillow with every hard push of his loins. I could feel it when he was about to come, his cock throbbing and swelling up even more, and for the first time I had the sensation of feeling his cum inside me. And then, much to my own surprise and in spite of the pain and him not having touched my pussy in any way, I came as well. I had no idea where that orgasm came from, something must have triggered it but I didn't have a clue what it was. I heard him chuckle behind me. I wondered why. Was he mocking me? Now I know, of course. Hiro immediately understood why I had an orgasm. It was the pain and the humiliation. And he liked that, he liked that very much. That's why he chuckled. It took me much longer to figure it out.
“As long as I had my period he focussed on training my mouth and asshole. I use the word training because that's how I percieved it. Not that I minded. On the contrary, I couldn't have been happier. Every night I was having sex with the man I had admired and longed for all my life. All I wanted was to prove him worthy, to make him happy. It was the best holiday ever, and I was in a joyous mood. The days passed as in previous years, spending time with my grandmother and uncle (my mother always used to do her own thing during our holidays in Japan, I was never quite sure where she hung out). So it was shopping (my gran spoiling me), beaches, cinema's, pools all over again. I had to watch myself when Hiro was around, make sure not to behave too much like the desperately in love teenager that I was. That was perhaps the hardest part, not being able to show the world the reason of my happiness.
“After my period finished he stepped things up a notch. He tied me to the bed one night, arms and legs spread. For the first time, he gave me oral sex. I thought by now I had experienced just about everything with regard to sex, but this took it to a whole new level. My whole body convulsed when I came, and I think I lost consciousness for a moment. He continued the bondage for about a week, each night tying me up in different positions, some of them rather uncomfortable. But I never said anything, let alone complain. The thought that I might annoy him and he might end it petrified me, so he could do with me whatever he wanted. He knew that, of course. He was in complete control. Plus I liked the discomfort, I liked it a lot.
“The night before my mother and I were to leave, we fucked like there was no tomorrow. It was as wild and passionate as we dared in a house where both our mothers were sleeping as well. Before
he left, he told me again to be a good girl; no boys. He could have left that out, I had no inclination whatsoever. And he instructed me to be on the pill when I returned next year. No more messing around with condoms.
“The following eleven months seemed to take a lifetime again. I dutifully concentrated on my highschool exams, passing with high marks. Other than that I didn't do much. I became a bit of a nerd, a loner, didn't have many friends and hardly went out. I completely ignored the boys, despite their many attempts to get my attention. Behind my back they called me frigid and arrogant. Frigid? Ha, if only they knew! All I could think of was Hiro. I fantasized about all the things that could possibly happen next summer, came up with another thousand scenario's. I even thought about eloping with him.
“This time when my mother and I arrived at the house he was there. It was one big happy family reunion, everybody was cheerful and chatting and laughing. Even my grandfather, who was always working, was there and joined the fun. When he found a moment to speak to me in private, Hiro said he would not come to my room that night, but he promised he would more than make it up to me the following day. I was disapppointed of course, but also curious and excited about his promise. The next day he told my mother he would take me shopping and to the movies. He said we would be away all day. But we passed the shopping centre and the cinema and drove straight to his apartment. I had never been there before. We went up to the 45th floor, to a beautiful penthouse, with 4 or 5 bedrooms and a huge living with a view of the whole city. It must have been outrageously expensive. I didn't get much time to admire it that first time though. As soon as we were in, he started ripping the clothes of my body and I did the same to him. We never made it to any of the bedrooms either. He took me right there in the living room, on the couch, lying on my back on the dinner table, on the floor, everywhere. Even in the kitchen. It was the first time I could make some noise, now that we were not in my grandparents house. I'm not a sceamer or anything, don't worry, but to always hold back was becoming a little bit frustrating the previous year. So finally I could moan and groan and say a few filthy words every now and then. It was passionate, almost carnal. I must have come half a dozen times. At some point I was on my hands and knees on the couch when he started to spank me. He was fucking me slowly, and suddenly his hand landed hard on my ass. I squealed. Then he spanked me again, and again, harder and harder, all the time fucking me slowly and gently, in almost artful contrast with the violent spanking he was giving me. I loved it. It really hurt, my skin was beginning to sting, while at the same time my pussy was all wet and swollen with excitement and I was about to have my next orgasm. Then he stopped, both the fucking and the spanking, and waited. He held his cock inside me but didn't move. I wiggled my ass a little to encourage him to start again. Then, without thinking, I said: “hit me.”
“Say please,” he answered immediately.
I hesitated a moment, then said: “Please!”
His hand landed full force on my ass. The impact was so great I lunged forward, bumping my head against the backrest of the couch, his cock slipping out. I yelled something like “ooohh”. He quickly pulled me back by my hips and pushed his cock back in.
“Again?”, he asked.
“Please,” I said softly, and he hit me again, on the other cheek, even harder this time. I somehow managed to stay in position, keeping him in. More stinging pain. My ass was glowing now. We kept repeating those words. Each time he spanked me, the muscles in my pussy responded, squeezing his cock. I wailed and moaned, had tears in my eyes, but he loved it and so did I. He stopped spanking and started fucking me again, now fast and wild and uncontrolled. We both came at the same time.
“I went to the bathroom and admired myself in the mirror. My ass was bright red. The sharp stinging had become a more lingering pain. I was happy, but most of all I was proud; proud that I could please this hard, demanding, impressive man. At that moment I decided I would do anything for him. I think subconsciously I realized there was much more to come, and I was mentally preparing myself for that.
“He no longer came to see me at night in my room. Instead, he took me out nearly every day and at least part of our time we'd spend at his apartment. He continued the bondage he had started the year before, and a couple of times made me wear a collar, hooked it to a leash and make me crawl around the flat. I did whatever he asked or told me to do. I also became a little bit involved in his life. I met some of his friends. Or that's how he introduced them, but it was quite clear they were part of his gang. They were body builder types, with bulging muscles and lots of tattoos, not very intelligent but extremely streetwise. Wherever they went, they intimidated people just by being there. Hiro was clearly the boss. For every decision, no matter how insignificant, they would look at him for the final go. I met a few of their girlfriends as well, all very young and very pretty, but quiet and submissive, even more so than most Japanese women. Arm candy. Fucktoys.
“One Friday he asked my mother if he could take me to a club that night. She hesitated, then said yes but told him I should be home by 1 AM. He laughed. “That's when it opens!”, he said. They negotiated and agreed he'd have me home by three. I had never been to a club before so had no idea what to expect. I put on the most sexy outfit I dared to show my mother; tight jeans and a see through blouse with a black bra. She didn't look too happy but said nothing as we walked out the door at about 9PM. We went to his apartment, where much to my surprise some of his friends had already gathered. It was the usual crew with their girlfriends. One woman I hadn't seen before. She was a little older, early to mid thirties I guess, very tall for Japanese standards, and very thin. She wore some gothic outfit, all black leather and shiny metal. She looked like a witch. I found her scary. She must have been important one way or the other, because they all treated her with care and respect, even my uncle although it was clear he had equal status. When my uncle introduced me, she looked me up and down like a lioness checking out a young antelope. She gave me a cold smile, and said to my uncle: “You were right.” That was all, no further explanation.
“After a while Hiro told me to go to one of the bedrooms with the woman. She would help me change into something more appropriate for the club we were going to. He also ordered me to do whatever she told me, follow every instruction. He said he would be very disapppointed if I wouldn't. She took my hand, smiled that cold smile again and said with a smoky voice: “Come my dear, let's get you ready for tonight.” In the bedroom she told me to undress. I hesitated, but she gave me a piercing look and I remembered my uncle's instruction. So I undressed to my underwear, and stood and waited. She made an impatient gesture with her hand to indicate that my bra and panties should come off too. I did, rather timidly I suppose. She had draped herself on the bed by now. She actually licked her lips. With a long, bony finger she beckoned me to come to her. I was sort of hypnotized by that finger, with blood red nailpolish on her sharp, long nails. I kept my eyes on it all the time, losing whatever free will I had left. As I crawled onto the bed she patted on the matress next to her. She was lying on her side, resting on one elbow. I took up the same position, facing her. Her hands began to explore my body, “Such a pretty girl,” she said. She leaned over, her face inching close to mine, and kissed me. First she gave me a gentle kiss on my lips, then from one moment to the next she opened her mouth and French kissed me, hard and aggressive. I was as surprised as when Hiro kissed me the first time, and didn't respond at first. She pulled her head back a little, looked at me with venom, and hissed: ”Kiss me back you little slut, or you'll regret it.” She kissed me again and I obeyed, too scared to make her or my uncle angry. I was afraid and aroused at the same time. She traced her fingernails down my back, which felt nice, then between my legs up over my belly to my breasts. She did that trick a few times, each time her sharp nails scratched my skin a little harder. She traced my tits, up and down with those red nails, from the top of my breasts to my nipples. Then she dug her sharp nails deep into the flesh of my breast. I squealed. She purred: “Oh, did that hurt?” She didn't wait for an answer. “Poor you,” she said, and did it again. Tears sprang in my eyes, I asked her to stop. “Stop?” she said, “And we're having so much fun!” With those words she dug her nails into my nipple and I wailed again. Then she kissed me gently on my lips again and whispered: ”I'll stop if you eat my pussy.” I couldn't speak, but when she tilted her head a little with a question mark on her face, I answered: “OK.”
“Such a good girl!”, she said, and yanked me by down my hair and pushed my face between her legs. She wore a leather miniskirt over fishnet stockings and a g-string. I moved the g-string aside and started to kiss her there. She pushed her pussy against my mouth and began to move her hips up and down. “Give me some tongue, little slut,” she said. I tried to lick her but for long couldn't find the right spot, until she finally held still for a moment. I found her clit and started sucking it. She was lying on her back now, legs spread wide, still holding me by my hair. Her cunt was soaking wet. She wrapped her legs around my head and pushed my face into her wet pussy. It felt like drowning. I kept trying to find the right spots with my tongue. Then she flipped me over on my back, as if we were wrestling, and she sat on my face. I could hardly breathe. She was riding my face, holding my head still with both hands. When she came, she screamed in a high pitched voice, her hips bucking wildly, her juices flowing all over my face still buried between her legs. She stayed like that for a long time, savouring the moment I suppose. Finally she reached behind her, her hand found my pussy and opened it. I was very wet of curse, I just couldn't help myself. It pleased her immensely. She chuckled: “You really ARE a horny little slut, aren't you sweety?” Even if I had wanted to answer, I couldn't with my face still locked between her thighs. Then she dug her nails into my labia and I screamed again, but hardly any sound came out because her pussy still covered my mouth.
“When she let go, she ordered me to get dressed, pointing at a very small pile of clothes. All that was there were a g-string, a tiny miniskirt, low on my hips and barely covering my ass, fishnet stockings and a top which ended above my navel and was very tight on my ribs, like a corset, pushing up my breasts but covering them only half with thin cotton and lace, showing my nipples through the fabric and giving me a cleavage I wasn't aware I had. Everything was black of course. I wanted to put my own shoes back on but she said “No, not those” and pointed at a pair on the floor. They were similar to what she was wearing herself, with 6 inch stiletto heels. I put them on and stood a little unsteadily on my feet, making me feel like that young antelope again. She got up from the bed and picked up the last item from the side table. It was a dog collar, black leather, about half an inch wide. It was tight around my neck, but to my surprise it felt quite comfortable. She didn't allow me to clean up my face, saying she wanted me to smell and taste her juices for the rest of the evening. She attached a leash to the collar and walked me back to the living room, two steps behind her. All eyes were upon me as we walked in. My uncle was looking at me with pride - or so I thought; his friends with lust in their eyes. I felt naked and insecure. She led me to Hiro and handed him the leash. She whispered something in his ear and they both laughed, not letting me in on the joke but I was pretty sure it was about me.
“We arrived at the club just before midnight. There was a long cue outside, but we simply walked past it and with a respectful nod to my uncle the bouncer let us in. Hiro later explained that he owned a share of the club. I thought the club was quite big, but what did I know. Our table was a little elevated and to the side so we could see the crowd on the dancefloor. It was packed. I noticed there were two types of men in the club. A minority seemed to be men like my uncle, gangsters, varying in age from 25 to about 50. The rest of the men were young, handsome and had paid a small fortune to get in. The women were all young (I think skinny bitch - that's how I called her in my head, I never found out her real name - must have been the oldest), beautiful and were wearing as little or less than I did, which reassured me a bit. Entrance for women was free, my uncle explained, but there was a strict door policy to only let in the most beautiful girls. Everybody drank cocktails, champagne, or very expensive wine or whisky. Pills were being popped quite openly. The crowd were dancing to a loud techno beat, lots and lots of sexy bodies twirling and grinding. Hanging from the roof above the dancefloor, about 5 ft over the heads over the dancing crowd, were three cages with perspex floors. Three beautiful girls, wearing even less than most others, were dancing in those cages. Three other barely dressed girls were dancing on cubes about 3 ft high, located at different parts of the dancefloor. They were whipping up the crowd. It was decadent and hedonistic. I had never seen anything like it, and found it incredibly exciting and sexy.
“Several men, all of them from the gangster category, came over to pay respect to my uncle. Among them a man who was seriously overweight, yet well dressed and in fact rather elegant. He was one of those people who can be obese and somehow still make it look good. He wore a huge, purple silk shirt over black pants. I couldn't guess his age, anywhere between 30 and 50. Later I found out he owned the club. My uncle talked to him for quite a while, all serious and business like. Then he gestured for me to come over.
“My friend Katsu was wondering if you would like to dance,” he said.
“With him?”, I answered before I realized how rude and stupid that sounded.
They both roared with laughter. “No, not with him.” my uncle answered after he had caught his breath again. “For him! In fact, never mind answering, it's not a question really. Dance for us, let's see how good you are.”
They both sat down on the low couch and looked up at me. “Go on,” my uncle said, “what are you waiting for?”
So I danced in front of these two men. I'm actually not a bad dancer, having had ballet and modern dance training since I was 4. I was self conscious of course, but the general atmosphere in the club helped and I tried to make it as sexy as possible. I felt cheap and admired at the same time. Katsu seemed to be satisfied, because after a minute or so he told me to stop. He then looked at my uncle who said, with an indifferent gesture: “She's all yours.” I remember just standing there, feeling silly and a bit scared, wondering what that meant, she's all yours. But Hiro looked me in the eyes and without saying anything he made christal clear what it meant. Next Katsu pulled out a stiletto which he opened with a sharp click. He reached out to my legs. I was scared all of a sudden. I tried to step back but holding the back of my knees he pulled me toward him. He wasn't going to cut me, was he? He moved both his hands, one with the knife, up my legs and underneath my tiny miniskirt. His big fleshy hands held my firm ass and squeezed a little. He hummed approvingly. Then suddenly he cut my g-string with a fast zigzag move of the knife. He had it in his hands before I realized what had happened. I was trembling on my feet, still spooked by the stiletto, looking pleadingly at my uncle who didn't give me any sign of reassurance. Now I felt really naked.
My uncle seemed quite entertained by all this. He laughed and said: “Go with Katsu and do everything he tells you. He'll bring you back here when he's done with you.” Skinny bitch (always prepared to humiliate me a bit more, it seemed) handed Katsu the leash, which he clipped to my collar again. Without any further warning he walked away. I nearly tripped when the leash pulled my neck, and he forced me to follow him through the crowd quickly. I glanced back and saw skinny bitch move over to sit close to my uncle, her bony hand on his inner thigh. She knew exactly what was my vulnerability: Hiro. She smiled her cold smile at me and mouthed “have fun!”
“Katsu darted through the dancing crowd, very light on his feet for such a big man. I was following as closely as I could, stumbling a few times. People were staring at us, but this was the kind of club where you'd see things like this, so they didn't really seem all that surprised. Just curious. He went for one of the cubes. When we got there I realized: he wants me to get up on the cube and dance! He gestured the girl who was up on the cube to beat it. He looked at me and smiled: “You know what to do, don't you?”
“I guess so,“ I answered.
Only at that moment it dawned on me that without any underwear, people looking up would look straight at my pussy. That's why he had cut my g-string! He wasn't quite finished preparing me though. Somebody handed him a bottle of champagne. He shook the bottle and opened it with a loud pop, spraying the champagne over my body and face. I was soaking wet, the bubbly fluid making my top stick to my skin. My nipples, hard from the cold champagne, were now clearly visible through my top, which was the whole idea of course. There was still some champagne left in the bottle, so he closed it with his thumb and shook it vigorously, then held it between my legs and let go of his thumb. The last champagne sprayed right at my naked, shaven pussy. He smiled and looked very pleased with himself. He leaned towards me and licked some champagne off my chest, just above my tits. Then he patted my ass lightly and said: “Get up there and dance for all the nice people. Make it 200% sexy. Turn on the crowd. Make them horny. Make them feel like they all want to fuck you tonight, men and women. Make them think that perhaps they even CAN fuck you tonight, with a little luck. Keep dancing until I come for you.”
“He put both his hands just above my hips and without any effort lifted me onto the cube. For a second I just stood there, not knowing what to do. Then I started to dance. First a bit shy and slow, but soon I adjusted to the music. I swayed my hips, put my hands up in the air, pushed my tits out and found the rhythm of the techno beat that was still booming from the speakers. Katsu watched me for few minutes before he walked away. I could almost feel his stare on my bouncing wet tits and up my miniskirt, champagne still running down my legs. While he was still there I taunted him a little, shaking my ass in front of him, going through my knees a bit making sure he had full view of my pussy. I continued to do that after he'd gone, trying to dance as erotically as I could for hundreds of men and women. Some of them were standing or dancing very close to the cube, peering straight up. I remember thinking they can see everything, they can look inside me, right inside my pussy. A lot of them looked indeed as if they wanted to fuck me right there and then. By then I had thrown off all my inhibitions. I felt like the sluttiest bitch on earth and it felt great. Dancing non-stop, my hands were moving all over my body now, caressing my tits and sliding between my legs. I went into a sort of trance. It went on and on, moving my body, grinding my hips, driven on by the monotonous techno beat that was so loud I could actually feel it vibrate in my pussy.
“I have no idea how long I danced, it could have been ten minutes or two hours, but suddenly Katsu was back. He helped me down, holding me by my waist again. I was soaking wet with sticky champagne and sweat. He clipped the leash on my collar once more and walked me across the dancefloor. We didn't go back to Hiro's table though. We went through a hidden door which led into a long hallway. There were a series of doors on both sides. We walked slowly now; he did that on purpose I think so I could catch a glimpse through the open doors. In the first room, two men were fucking a girl who was on her hands and knees. One guy was taking her from behind, the other just pushed his cock in her mouth as we were walking past. In the next room, it was the other way around; two gorgeous girls pleasuring an older man. One girl was riding his cock, while the other kissed him. In the third room a girl was hanging by her arms from the ceiling, her feet a few inches above the floor. A very well dressed man in a suit was standing behind her, a long whip in his hand. I didn't see him whipping the girl, but after we had passed I heard a loud crack and a scream. Katsu opened the next door and led me into a room with no furniture at all, except for a futon matress.
“You danced very well,” he said as he closed the door. “As a reward I am going to fuck you.”
I looked at him a bit puzzled, I suppose.
“That sounds more arrogant than it is,” he continued. “I know you want it, desperately. I watched you dance from a distance. You enjoyed having all these men watching you, didn't you, all those guys fucking you with their eyes. And some of the women. You were practically fucking yourself up there. I know you really need a cock right now. Am I right?”
Of course he was. I was hornier than I had ever been before. He didn't need an answer anyway, he was going to fuck me no matter what I said. He pushed aside the bra part of my top and took out my tits. My nipples were still hard. Out of nowhere he suddenly held the stiletto in his hand again. He held it with the sharp end against my neck, exposing it by pulling my head back by my wet hair. He slowly moved the knife down my throat and chest, heading for my tits. I was holding very still, looking down at the knife with big eyes, scared he would cut me, this massive, powerful man whom I had never met before. He intimidated me, but I also thought he wouldn't really hurt me with my uncle around. And the intimidation aroused me even more. He was now scraping the skin of my left breast, touching my nipple with the point of the knife, pressing a little, denting the skin. He was close to drawing blood, then stopped. Instead he cut away my top, quicker than the eye can see.
He threw my torn-up top into a corner and pushed me down on my hands and knees, took the leash and pulled me toward the futon. I had to crawl on all fours to follow him, wearing nothing but my tiny miniskirt, stockings and high heels. He kneeled behind me on the futon, opened his pants and pushed the miniskirt up around my waist. He grabbed the leash, held it tight and unceremoniously rammed his cock inside me. He pushed his hips forward and with the leash he pulled me toward him, his cock going all the way in. He held me there for a while, the collar tightening around my throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. Then he let go so I swayed forward a little, pushed out by his big belly, away from his cock until just the tip was inside the entrance of my pussy. Then he pulled the leash again. My hips moved against his loins, his cock deep inside me. He fucked me like this for a long time, using the leash to pull me toward him and his belly to push me away. At first it was a gentle sway, back and forth, in and out, as if we were on a swing in a playground. Then he began to pull a bit harder, choking me a little more each time. At one point he didn't let go but held me against him and increased the pressure on the leash even more, trying to push his cock even deeper into my pussy. He held the leash really tight, pulling hard. I was seriously choking now. I couldn't breathe at all, and was beginning to panick a little. I squeezed my pussy muscles around his cock, hoping to please him so he would let go. But he didn't. I began to see double. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, he let go. I gasped for air like a diver reaching the water surface just in time. He gave me a moment to recover, all the time making sure the tip of his cock stayed inside me. Then he resumed, gently pulling me back on his shaft again. Soon the pulls became sharper however. He pulled me back with more force, my ass slapping against his hips. I tried to move my body in his rhythm. Each time he let go gently and slowly, waited a few seconds, then pulled the leash hard and sharp. When he was about to come, he increased the tempo. He hardly gave me time to catch my breath after each pull of the leash any more; and once more I was beginning to feel light in my head for lack of oxygen. He pulled the leash and pushed his hips forward simultaneously, every time a bit harder and faster. Then he came, holding me tight against him, pulling he leash with one hand and my hair with the other, forcing my head back so much I was looking at the ceiling, his cock deep inside me ejaculating loads and loads of hot cum in my pussy. Needless to say I came as well. I almost fainted from the orgasm and the lack of air.
“Katsu delivered me back to my uncle topless. All I was wearing were my high heels, the fishnets and the miniskirt, and the collar by which he was pulling me throught the crowd again. It seemed as if hours had passed. Hiro and his friends were quite drunk by now; although he was handling it better than the rest of his gang. The alcohol had been flowing freely. One of the girlfriends was lying naked on her back on the low table around which all of them were sitting. They were using her as a serving tray. She was covered in sushi which they picked up with chopsticks and dipped in soy sauce, which was in a small, shallow saucer placed over her pussy. A different sauce had been poured into her navel. She was lying very still. Every now and them one of the guys fed her a sushi. One of them, not her boyfriend, had just poured some champagne over her small breasts and started to suck it off, biting her nipples while he was at it. As we arrived at the table, Hiro looked at me and said to Katsu: “So we're good.” The big man nodded and replied: “We're good.” Only days later, when I replayed that night in my head, I suddenly realized Hiro had used me to pay off some debt to Katsu.
“Giving me away became a pattern. After skinny bitch and Katsu quite a number of other men followed. No more women. In a way he was prostituting me, in exchange for favours or to settle debts. Never for money. That's to say, as far as I know no cash was ever paid. We never talked about this but it became pretty clear to me that's what he was doing. Sometimes he gave me away just for the heck of it, for his own entertainment, like when we went to a crappy sex cinema in a really seedy part of town. There were about half a dozen men scattered around the cinema, slightly creepy guys watching some hardcore porn movie. The place had a sweet, stale smell. On the big screen a blonde woman with enormous silicone tits was taking three cocks at once. Hiro and I sat down right next to one of the guys, me in the middle between the two men. The guy looked surprised, not quite sure what to think. People tend to take seats as far away as possible from others in places like this. He was at least fifty, maybe older, and looked scruffy with a three day beard and clothes that had seen better days. Hiro had dressed me up in a school uniform (Japanese men love girls in school uniforms), the sexy version: a short blue skirt and a white see-through blouse. We watched the movie for a minute. Then Hiro whispered, without taking his eyes off the screen: “Put your hand on his crotch.” I turned my head and looked at him in mock surprise: I was beginning to expect this kind of thing. Then I moved my hand to my left and rested it on the man's dick. It was half erect. I began to massage it softly while watching the movie. The man didn't move a muscle, probably scared of my uncle or afraid I might stop if he did something wrong. His cock was getting hard though. Next Hiro whispered: “Open his zipper and jerk him off.” I dutifully obeyed. I fumbled a bit with my one hand before I managed to open his pants. I put my hand around his cock, moist with precum, and started to jerk him off slowly, his erect cock trembling in my hand. After a minute or two Hiro whispered the next instruction: “Put his hand on your thigh. Let him feel you up.” With my free hand I gently grabbed his right arm and put his hand on my leg. I could sense him holding his breath. In the car on the way to the cinema Hiro had made me take off my panties, so the scruffy man was in for a surprise. Still jerking him off, I opened my legs a bit and with my other hand moved his hand to my pussy. His fingers, expecting cloth, touched my bald pussy lips. With my hand resting on his hand I pushed his fingers between my labia, opening them and finding my wet entrance. He moved his fingers up and down my wet slit. I jerked him off a little faster. His breathing became irregular. No longer needing my hand to guide him, he pushed a finger inside me. Then it was all too much for him. Without any warning, and without any sound, he came. His sticky cum landed on the back of my hand. I didn't know what to do with it. Just sat there, his limp cock still in my hand. Then Hiro said: “wipe it on your legs.” I let go of his cock and smeared the cum all over my thighs. Immediately, scruffy guy got up and hastily scrambled for the exit.
Next Hiro nodded in the direction of a guy sitting two rows in front of us. “I think he would like some too.” This one was younger, around thirty, a bit nerdy, wearing thick glasses. He had glanced back a few times to see what had been happening behind him. I got up and walked over to him, acting shy and sexy at the same time, the eyes of the other men still present following me. I smiled at nerdy guy, and he smiled back nervously. I went through the same routine, put my hand on his crotch, opened his pants, jerked him off and let him feel my pussy. He lasted a bit longer, this one. And he knew how to please a woman. He found my clit and massaged it with his thumb. At the same time he was fucking me with two fingers. By the time he ejaculated I was pretty close to orgasm myself. More cum on my hand, and then on my legs. I walked back to Hiro but he pointed at the other men in the cinema. I got the message. I had to do them all. While I worked the room, he just sat back and watched the movie. I gave five more men a handjob and allowed them access to my pussy, with their fingers. The last one made me come. I made no sound but my body was trembling all over. The blonde woman on the screen, or maybe it was another one, was making all the noise for both of us, moaning loudly and pretending to have an orgasm while a black man with a gigantic cock who had just fucked her in the ass came all over her face.
“I was in a permanent state of confusion that month. Hiro had made me his sex slave (even though the word was never used), using and abusing me for his own pleasure and that of other men. Prostituting me. But the more he humiliated me, the more I tried my best to please him. To please him by pleasing other men. When giving me to other men, he could act very indifferently, as if he really didn't give a shit about what would happen to me. Yet I always had the feeling that he was nearby and in control somehow, that the men I had to please were under strict instructions about what they could and could not do to me. Also, apart from all the kinky sex, we continued to have fun like we had always done. In that sense, nothing had changed. So on any given day we could see a movie (he actually liked romantic comedies, believe it or not), eat an icecream, go to some shops, then go back to his apartment where he would tie my hands behind my back, push me down on my knees, slap my face a few times and roughly fuck my throat. Or go to a hotel and hand me over to some random guy who would take me to a room to fuck me. He was Jekyll and Hide. And I loved both sides of him. I was happy when he behaved like the good old fun uncle, but equally or even more happy when he treated me like a whore.
“Many more things happened that summer, but I think it would take all weekend if I had to tell them all. When it was time to leave, he didn't give me the “no boys” lecture. In fact, he didn't say much at all. The month had just passed, and then it ended. I had no idea what it all meant to him. Maybe very little. Maybe I was just a nice distraction for a couple of weeks, kinky because of everything he could do to me and because I was his niece, before he moved on to the next beautiful girl, probably while my mother and I were still on the plane.
Maki took a deep breath, and continued: “Two months after our return home, disaster struck. Hiro got arrested. It wasn't his first arrest, but this time the charges were serious, including involvement in at least two murders. He was looking at many years in jail. Awaiting trial, he was held in a prison with a very bad reputation. Many members of rival gangs were kept there, people Hiro had competed with. People who had scores to settle. Some of them might be in jail because of him. Later my mother said she thought the police had put him there on purpose. Whatever the case may be, he didn't survive. Within a week he was murdered. They found him in the toilets with a knife in his back. We never found out who did it. My mother was sure the authorities knew, but they never really investigated.
“My world collapsed. We went back to Japan for the funeral, but I remember very little. I was in a complete state of shock. The following year I was very depressed. I failed my year in college. Didn't have any friends, never really spoke to anyone. All I could think of was Hiro. It took me very long to climb out of that hole. Our visit to Japan the next summer, followed by the anniversary of his death, was the turning point. It was tough, being confronted with all these memories, but I realized that I couldn't throw my life away. I had to move on. So slowly, very slowly my life returned to more or less normal. I went through college (I did art school, photography). Made some friends. For very long I wasn't interested in men at all. My friends used to tease me, saying I was either asexual or a closet lesbian. In my final year in college I've had two very brief relationships, lasting weeks rather than months. They were nice enough guys, I suppose, but it didn't work out. Maybe because they were nice enough. They couldn't give me what I wanted, and I couldn't tell them what I wanted. I graduated last year, and I've done some work in photography. Even had a small exhibition a while ago. Then a couple of weeks ago I found your ad and, well, here I am.”
She had spoken without interruption. She looked at him with those dark eyes and sat silent, drinking her tea. Michael sat quietly as well, processing her unusual life story. It was not an uncomfortable silence. On the contrary. Japanese people have no problems with long interruptions in a conversation. In fact, over the years it was something he and Maki were going to develop almost into a form of art. They could be silent for long periods of time before continuing a conversation. Sometimes they would have multiple conversations at once, effortlesly moving from one to the other, with long interruptions, like playing simultaneous chess games. These conversations could last for days. She could make a remark relating to something he had said the day before, and he would understand immediately what she meant and continue the discussion as if she had responded to something he had just said.
Finally he said: “That's quite a story, Maki.”
“It's true!”, she responded with a hint of indignance in her voice.
He smiled: “I didn't mean to say I don't believe you. Quite a history then. And it does answer most of my questions.”
They talked some more, before he concluded: “There are two differences between your uncle and me. First I am not a gangster, although in the eyes of some people there isn't such a big difference these days between a banker and a gangster. So that feeling you've had with him, when it somehow felt good being with him while he intimidated people just by his presence, you won't have that with me. Second, he certainly treated you like a slavegirl in many ways that I will too. But I haven't heard you say anything about being whipped.”
She answered: “You're right. He did hurt me physically, but not like that. The bondage could be very painful, and he would spank me often. But no whips, or other tools of pain. I think that would have been on the menu the following year. I often fantasize about it, though. I realize this is something you will do, and I want it. I want it very badly.” Her voice faded. She looked at him with pleading eyes now, willing him with her mind to take the decision to have her as his slavegirl.
He waited a little longer to make her sweat, but his decision had actually been taken long before. No way in the world he was going to let this girl walk away. The fact that she'd never been whipped before was a pro, not a con. She would have no frame of reference, everything would be new to her. He could do whatever he liked. So he gave her the same little speech as the week before with Julie, and told her to get ready.
Her striptease was a bit introverted, not as shameless as Julie had been. Her body slowly emerged from underneath her clothes. And what a body! She was, in a word, flawless. Everything about her was in perfect proportion, with beautiful curves, her shapely legs ending in a small yet round ass, her stomach and back toned without showing muscles, her breasts exactly the right size, nice and round, smaller than Julie's but big enough. Healthy skin. He didn't see a single birthmark. She had shaved her pussy. He couldn't have been more pleased.
There was one more surprise. As her dress slowly fell of her elegant shoulders, a tattoo emerged on the left side of her torso. He couldn't see it very well as it was partly covered by her arm, so he waited until he had tied her up, arms above her head, before having a proper look at it. It was a dragon, green and blue and yellow with a red tongue. It was about twelve inches high. It was the most astonishing, intricately detailed tattoo he had ever seen. The dragon seemed to be alive, as if it could jump off her body at any moment. It's tail coiled from her hip to her lower back, just above her ass. Its body curved and looped alongside her torso. The tip of its tongue licked the side of her left breast. It was a true work of art. He studied it for a very long time; another comfortable silence. She waited patiently. At last he said: “Tell me about the tattoo.”
She answered: “The summer after my uncle died we were back in Japan. I felt the need to do something to shake off my misery. To turn the page. So I went to one of the most famous tattoo artists in Japan with this picture, which I knew my uncle liked very much. The man grumbled and sent me away, saying tattoos were not for little girls. He almost physically shooed me out of his shop. I came back the next day, and he sent me away again. This went on for about a week. Finally he relented. I had convinced him that I really wanted this. Next he quoted me a fortune, in another attempt to discourage me. I didn't blink an eye and payed upfront. It took him three full days to put the tattoo. The pain was excruciating at times. The skin is very sensitive at that spot. But I never made a sound. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. At first the tattoo was mostly about my uncle, and a little bit about me. In Japan dragons are considered friendly, benevolent creatures. This one isn't. This is an angry dragon. Which was exactly what I wanted, it reflected my feelings perfectly. The tattoo helped me recover from my grief. I even talked to it sometimes. Don't worry,” she smiled, “I don't do that any more. Now it's 90% me, it has really become part of my identity. But a little bit of him is still there and I suppose will never go away.”
He got up from bending over to study the tattoo more closely, and said: “It's the most magnificent tattoo I have ever seen. He must have been a true master of his art. It suits you well too. I see what you mean about it being part of your identity. I somehow seems to belong to you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He started to explore her body with his fingers, just as he had done with Julie the week before. He held her breast in his hand and squeezed. Just as he thought, nice and firm yet soft enough to play with. When he made the practice swing with the riding crop, standing behind her, her body twitched. For a second, the dragon danced. He waited long enough for her to relax, then whipped her ass. She sighed. That was all, just a sigh. It spoke a thousand words though, telling him this was where she belonged. Finally her search was over, somebody had taken the place of her uncle. It said she would never leave him, she would stay for as long as he wanted her. The sigh told him he could do whatever he wanted with her. She was home now.
He whipped her ass, the back of her thighs and her back 20 times, and all she did was sigh. Then he kissed her gently on her lips and put his hand between her legs. She was wet. He let two fingers slide between her pussy lips, finding her opening but not entering. She whispered: “Thank you, master.”
“For what?” he answered.
“For whipping me.”
“What makes you think I've finished?”
“And besides...” he took a small step back, looked into her eyes for a moment, and then suddenly slapped her face hard. Her head spun sideways from the unexpected blow.
“Besides,” he repeated, his voice really sharp now, “less than half an hour ago I instructed you not to speak unless you were being asked a specific question.”
She looked back at him in shock, her dark eyes wide open. “I... I'm sorry master.”
He slapped her face again, even harder than the first time, her head spinning once more. He grabbed her chin and jerked her face back to face him. “That wasn't a question either.” he snapped, looking straight into her teary eyes.
She was about to apologize again, but his raised eyebrows made her swallow her words just in time.
He let go of her chin.
“God, I hope you're not stupid,” he grumbled as he stepped behind her. “That would be so disappointing. I cannot stand stupid women.”
She was wise enough to keep her mouth shut. Her cheek was bright red, her eyes filled with tears. He blindfolded her. Then he picked up the riding crop once more.
He said: “I was going to whip you ten more times. As punishment for your stupidity and indiscretion however, I will double that. I advise you not to make any more mistakes.”
In fact, he was quite pleased she had made a mistake. She was almost too perfect, he thought, and this was the first time she had shown a little crack in this armor of perfection.
He whipped her tits a lot harder than Julie's the previous week. As punishment of course, but also because he felt the urge to hurt this girl. Break her. Reduce her not simply to tears, but to a crying, crawling, begging little mess. She incited a kind of aggression in him that was new to him. The first blow landed on her nipple, her beautiful dark nipple, hard with excitement. For the first time she squealed, her face showing agony. Then another hit, on the other nipple. The next one on the side of her breast, right where the dragon licked it. Her breathing became irregular. She moaned a little. More tears emerged, leaving a smudgy trail of mascara on her cheeks. She looked even more beautiful like that, he thought. Another hit on her nipple, preceded by that wonderful hissing sound. Twenty hits in total. Twelve on her tits, the rest on her stomach and inner thighs. There were lots of red marks on her skin now. The final one was on her pussy, from below. The flick of his wrist gave the tip of the whip extra speed, and it landed right between her legs on her half opened, wet labia. She still didn't scream, but by the way her head flung backwards upon impact he could see he had inflicted considerable pain.
He gave her some time to recover. The sight of Maki hanging by her wrists, barely able to stand on her trembling legs, her gorgeous body covered in whipping marks, was one he would never forget. He decided to add something. Even with the extra whipping, he felt things had been a little too easy for her so far. He took out a pair of nipple clamps. They were adjustable; with a little wheel he could change the pressure on her nipples, from barely noticeable to excruciatingly painful. He went for the latter. The clamps had a little spring mechanism as well, so putting them on her nipples they snapped, rather than eased into place, adding to the pain. With the blindfold still in place, the first nipple clamp came unexpected. Maki squealed. Her distorted face showed in how much pain she was. With the second clamp she knew what was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. She gasped. Her body didn't stop trembling. When after a few minutes she was somewhat used to the clamps, he added little led weights. About the size of a big marble, they were actually quite heavy. He let them dangle from little chains, one from each breast. The clamps pressed and the weights pulled her poor nipples so hard, she had to apply all her mental strenght to cope with the pain. He watched her struggle for a long time, comfortably seated in his chair, sipping his whisky. Every now and then he tapped the weights with the tip of the riding crop, or pressed the flesh of her breast, making the weights swing, hurting her some more.
Applying nipple clamps hurt. Taking them off hurts even more. When the blood returned to her nipples, she distorted her face once more from the most incredible pain. He made it worse by massaging her breasts right after taking off the clamps, stimulating the flow of blood some more.
Her cock sucking skills were excellent. More subtle than Julie's. She kissed, licked, sucked and nibbled on his cock in ways he had never experienced before. She had the ability to increase the pleasure ever so slowly, slowing down at times to make sure he wouldn't come too soon. Step by little step she guided him to a massive orgasm.
One thing she didn't get right though. She couldn't take his cock all the way into her mouth. She tried hard enough, but couldn't manage his eight inch cock. Another imperfection, he noted with satisfaction. When she got ready to go home on Sunday evening he handed her a dildo about the size of his cock. There were question marks in her eyes. “Homework,” he explained. “Practice every evening. I want you to be able to deepthroat me by the end of the month. If you can't manage to take my cock all the way into your mouth by yourself by then, well, I will help you a little, if you know what I mean.” She understood perfectly well; he would force his cock down her throat if she failed.