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Meiko (slave) Chapter 5
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The following manuscript is:
Copyright 1993 Donald L. Conover
Registration No. TXu 585-582
All Rights Reserved
[email protected]
This manuscript may be ported to other systems worldwide,
provided local laws permit such transfer, but it may not be printed
or performed in whole or in part without the express written
consent of the author. This novel was written by Donald L.
Conover, and when published in print it is intended to be published
under the pseudonym of David Gerritsen. If you wish to be added to
the electronic subscription list, please send me e-mail:
[email protected].
The Master
Six weeks passed pleasantly enough. Meiko was free to spend
much of the time in her room. The garden was her solace. Each
morning it was opened for her by the gardener, each evening she
lost it. Toshiko gave her several "pillow books" to read, to
help her further understand the ways of sex and men.
Three times each day she cleansed the area around the four
golden posts. The pain was gone after one week, but she still
had the ways of pleasure Toshiko taught her. She used the benwa
regularly, and was actually beginning to be good with it,
enjoying the subtle pressures on her organs. She knew her grip
on them was strong. She only lost one of them three times, and
twice no one else saw. The other time she was walking down the
cedar floored hall when one dropped out without warning. It
rolled noisily down the hall and stopped at the feet of one of
the men in black. He chuckled. It was the only time Meiko saw
one of them chuckle during her stay in the Master's house. She
scurried down the hall after it, face bright red, grabbed it like
a truant from a marble game, and ducked into the bathroom.
After four of these weeks Toshiko examined the wounds around
the golden shafts. She pronounced the holes healed, and replaced
the shafts with four tiny gold rings, about the size of a
thumbnail. She asked what they were for, but Toshiko dodged
the question.
"You will know soon enough," she said.
The rings were more comfortable than the posts, and Meiko
rarely thought about them. Sometimes at night, when the heat of
her reading was on her mind, she touched the rings and found that
by sliding them through their holes, or manipulating them, she
could give herself wonderful sensations. She became quite
addicted to the pleasure they gave her beyond the benwa.
It was during this period that Toshiko, without saying
anything, took note of Meiko's monthly cycle. She reported her
findings to the Master, at times and places invisible to Meiko,
who almost forgot there was someone else to meet. After
considering the healing time for Meiko's labia, and her
inconsistent girlish cycle, a time was set for her to become a
woman. The place was always known. The room of the rings.
The day passed routinely for Meiko, who was not allowed to
know of its import until the end of the day, when the garden was
entirely in shadow, and the gardener returned to close the
shutters. Toshiko was skilled in her work, so Meiko never knew
as the garden was taken from her on that day that she would never
look at it in the same way again.
After the shutters were closed, Toshiko came to Meiko's
door. She slid it back quietly, and found Meiko sitting at the
low table reading one of the books from her lessons.
"Meiko-chan," she said quietly. "I must prepare you for
tonight."
Meiko looked up from her book with a start. The break in
routine told her instantly what was about to happen. A funnel of
thoughts swirled through her mind: bicycle trips to picnics at
the waterfall; the joy of her little dog when she was small; her
father's stoic face; her mother's tears and lack of words. Her
stomach felt both light and dark. She did not think of the
rings.
Meiko did not notice the passage of time, as she was
assigned to take care of her own toilet and bath within one hour.
She did not prepare herself mentally, nor muse on what that
evening would bring, simply because there was not sufficient
space in her mind for reflections on girlhood and dread of the
future.
Finally Toshiko returned to the door, beckoned Meiko with a
small gesture, and turned to lead the way down the cedar hallway.
They reached a part of the house Meiko did not know, and finally
entered a doorway. Beyond the threshold Meiko knew at once their
location. The walls and ceiling had over one hundred iron rings
installed. There, on the wall next to the tokonoma, her mind
flashed an image of Toshiko's friend from long ago, stretched to
her tiptoes.
On Meiko's evening the light in the room was dim; candle
lit. On the floor in the center of the room was a large billowy
futon, with a purely white cotton coverlet stretched around it to
protect its fabric. Around its edges was lace. Toshiko led
Meiko to a place next to it and stopped. She moved behind her
charge and helped Meiko remove her yukata. All four hands
trembled as they worked the knot on the silk sash and lifted the
cotton from Meiko's shoulders.
"Now remember, Meiko-chan, you must do exactly everything
you are told tonight. If you are very careful about this point,
you will be asleep in your own futon before the midnight rounds
of the night fire watch. If you fail, your life as a woman will
be over before it begins. Do you understand me?" This question
was again in Toshiko's gentle motherly tone.
Meiko had no idea what Toshiko meant by her melodramatics,
but she nodded affirmatively.
"Please lie down on this futon, with your legs pointing
toward the tokonoma."
Meiko obeyed, finding the cotton of the futon's cover cold
on her back. She shivered. The nipples on her young breasts
were erect, but lying on her back, the flesh itself spread across
her chest and disappeared into a thin layer of extra fat across
her ribs. The womanly curves of her body drew the eye naturally
to a triangle of silky curled thread beneath her navel.
"I must help you with the temptation of interfere with my
work," Toshiko said tying the ends of silken sashes about Meiko's
wrists and ankles. Then she fastened the other ends to iron
rings on the wall. Not so that Meiko was pulled tightly open,
but only to alleviate the temptation to put arms and legs in the
way.
Working swiftly, Toshiko pulled a wrap of leather lanyards
from the sleeve of her kimono. She placed her hand on Meiko's
vulva, allowing her forefinger to dip into the slit and retrieve
one of the four golden rings. She threaded this with the
leather, tying a knot with one end and pulling the loose end out
to Meiko's right side. She repeated the same process three
times, putting two lanyards to Meiko's left. Each was knotted to
a separate ring.
Toshiko guided the free end of each lanyard out through an
iron ring on the wall, and then back. She tied the other end
around Meiko's outstretched knees. Meiko tried to watch this
process over the thickened part of her chest, but the position
made her neck stiff, so she contented herself to look at the
shadows of the flickering candles across the ceiling.
"Now, Meiko-chan, I must explain to you what I have done.
As you can tell, I have left the lanyards somewhat loose and
comfortable. If you close your knees, though, they will become
tighter and pull on the rings. If you pull them gently until
discomfort begins and stop, you will spread your labia to their
fullesu will make yourself a beautiful butterfly
for the Master. But if you close them quickly, the rings will
tear through your flesh and ruin your womanhood. Do you
understand?"
Meiko nodded, a tear forming in her eye. Her belly trembled
with fear.
"Try then," Toshiko went on, "so that you know how it feels
to be the most beautiful."
Meiko started to swing her bent knees shut in a great ark.
At first she felt nothing, but in a moment there was a little
tickle between her legs. At the same moment she felt Toshiko's
hand graze its warmth across her pubic hair and lightly plow into
the furrow beneath. Meiko closed her knees a little further and
felt the petals of her labia pulled open and spread beautifully.
Toshiko's forefinger slid easily down between the pink river
banks.
"Ohhh, beautiful," she breathed. "Just there is perfect."
Meiko noticed the sensations between her legs at that
moment, and knew that those provided by Toshiko would be missing.
"Now close yourself," Toshiko instructed.
Meiko spread her knees very wide again, and her femininity
retracted into its precious sheath. The few moments of
stimulation were still with her though. Meiko's heart pounded
like a frightened doe hiding from the hunters. She knew that now
she must become a woman.
Toshiko placed a white satin blindfold over Meiko's eyes,
and then released the silk sashes at her wrists and ankles. She
rose and left the room. The sliding door whispered the end of
Meiko's virginity.
In the twilight of her womanhood, Meiko thought about what
Toshiko had said. "Cup his balls in your hand," she had said.
"Slide your fingers along his penis, up over the head," she had
said. "Let the shape excite you, and then ride the excitement.
Let him give you pleasure and you won't notice the pain."
The door whispered open, silk sliding on cedar. Meiko's
belly trembled involuntarily. She heard the quiet footsteps.
For years later, until she reached middle life, the smell of
stale cigarettes in a crowded room vividly reminded her of the
perforations no lover ever noticed, but Meiko could never forget.
His yukata reeked of them. She relaxed a little as she felt his
warmth in the room.
"Ah, you are so beautiful," he said in a quiet voice. He
knelt between her legs. Meiko's hands drifted over her breasts,
not touching them, but looking for a demure place to land. His
strong hands guided the calves of Meiko's legs behind his thighs.
He touched her left hand and guided it to him.
Meiko gasped a little as she sensed the heat behind his
pubic hair. She cupped her hand and was rewarded with a warm
pliant sack of doughy balls. She squeezed a little, noticing how
they moved as she manipulated them. The head of his penis
touched the inside of her arm above the wrist. It was textured,
warm, and a little wet. She let her hand drift down the shaft to
the edges of the head, noticing the hardness, forgetting the
rest. Between Meiko's legs new moisture sloshed over the edge of
the well.
Meiko drew her knees in closer to her. As she did she
opened the blossom for her first lover. She heard his deep
breath as he watched springtime emerge between her legs--a flower
with pink petals. In a moment she felt the warmth, moisture and
texture of the tip of his tongue firmly slipping up under the
hood of her clitoris. His lips pursed over it and he sucked it
through, into his mouth, several times. Each entry caused
Meiko's hips to jerk with desire. Her ardor increased his. He
let the rough texture dangle down through the jungle valley and
lap gently over Meiko's virgin opening. Meiko felt a warm river
of desire between her legs. She put her hands on each side of
his head and urged him upward toward her face.
She guided the head of his penis between her enlarged pink
labia petals and left it there, engulfed in their succulent heat.
She put her hands on his shoulders as the excitement of
anticipation bulged in her vulva.
There was greater pressure there as he leaned into her a
little more. Her hands gripped the shoulders tighter. The
pressure built gradually, warmly at first. Then suddenly it was
an irresistible force, a volcano's heat erupting from her. "Oh!"
she breathed as it exploded over the planet's surface, leaving
smoldering ash settling over every inch of her body. She was
instantly sore, but no unbearable pain, then deep down at the
center of the earth something pleasant began.
Waves of pleasure broke across Meiko's mind as they rocked
together smoothly in pelvic embrace. Her ankles rose and
embraced his buttocks, pulling him firmly into her. Her entire
being was centered in her vagina as her lover's tension became
more demanding of her attention. The exercise of the benwa
worked its magic, allowing her to squeeze her prize. Her
pressure, his heat, the texture of his tongue all converged to a
sudden moment of ecstasy she had never known before. The muscles
in her belly flexed spasmodically, forcing her clitoris against
him as hard as she could. She was floating, falling, soaring
beyond everything in life. No matter that she had not selected
this man. For six decades she would remember this moment as
though it were happening presently.
As their ardor cooled, he withdrew from his conquest. He
reached for the sleeve of his yukata, and from it took a small
pocket knife. He cut the lanyards away from the golden rings.
Meiko's mind drifted as he did this. His hand sliding through
the warm compote between her legs kept her focus there. She felt
like a mountain climber on a ledge between pleasure and pain, but
as he gently rubbed, she began to climb again. Animal passions
she did not know overwhelmed her. She rose toward him and
pounced on him like a leopard, forcing him backward, half on and
half off the futon. Her enthusiasm rekindled his erection, which
she grabbed firmly and mounted from above. She ground her
clitoris into his pubic hair, while squeezing him like she was
afraid that she would lose a benwa ball in the heat of an
athletic event. Kneeling over him, heart pounding, she rode her
steed on into the night, until nothing was left. Until neither
could move from their exhaustion.
Hours later, or perhaps minutes, Meiko awakened when Toshiko
removed the blindfold. The Master was gone. Toshiko helped
Meiko to her feet, and guided her to the bath.
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