Keiyu took the bags and dumped the contents into a small autoclave so that they would be properly sterilized, closing the lid and turning a dial, then flipping a little switch. “It will take some time before everything is clean,” the man said as he looked down at me and Atsumi smiled at him.
“Would you like to take her, father?” she asked him sweetly.
“I have washed her already,” the man said.
“But you can always wash her again,” Atsumi persisted. “It is fitting perhaps that her new father will be the last man she will ever have inside her cunt.” The vulgar word widened my eyes and once again I tried to imagine myself saying such a thing in front of my real dad and I couldn’t.
Keiyu nodded and smiled, laughing as he undid his trousers and revealing a very large penis that soon grew to full erection. Mistress Atsumi pulled a stool close to the chair and sat down next to me, leaning her face close to mine as he we both watched her father rubbing his penis across my slit.
“I have never been with a man, slave,” Mistress Atsumi whispered, the tip of her tongue tickling my ear. “But if I did, it would be with our father. Enjoy it for me.” She said it almost angrily, I thought, and grabbed a fistful of my hair, turning my face to kiss me hard. She pushed her tongue deep into my mouth at the same moment Keiyu thrust his cock into the furthest reaches of my cunt with one swift thrust.
The effect of being fucked by a large penis, combined with the large plug still stretching my ass, was a new and intense experience. I felt fuller than I’d ever been before in my life. It seemed Keiyu touched me in places that I’d never known existed. I could feel the friction between his shaft and the butt plug through the thin sensitive walls of flesh that separated them and the effect was deliciously wicked. I started cumming almost at once, having been primed by his earlier touches and the impossible knowledge that this might be the last cock I would ever feel reaching my womb.
Mistress Atsumi continued kissing me the entire time. It seemed our mouths could never tire of each other and I felt her hand massaging my breasts, squeezing and manipulating the flesh until my nipples burned and felt as though they would leap from my body. I felt her leather clad fingers tracing my welts, exploring my bruised tits, digging into my body painfully when she wanted to elicit a sharp yelp from my open mouth. She drank all of that experience, breathing my moans and sighs until I could barely control my own body. I was jerking off the chair, thrusting my cunt against the cock invading me, arching my back to press my tits to Mistress Atsumi’s palms, and working my tongue frantically against hers. My orgasm’s were rapid and they stole all sense from my mind.
When father came, it was deep inside my sex, flooding me with his sperm and I enjoyed it immensely. I found myself almost wishing that I hadn’t been on the pill, that I could have conceived a child by this last man to cum inside my cunt. I might have had a daughter, a sister for Mistress Atsumi and I to love, but this was only the idle dreaming of the rapture in which I was caught. It took a very long time for my heart to slow again and for my lungs to stop their ragged heaving. Father cleaned my sex gently, using a washcloth and a small douche to wash me inside. He placed a pan beneath my sex and I watched as his sperm flowed out of me, thin and weak as the man bathed my vagina with warm water.
The piercings themselves did not take so long to perform and were only mildly painful. He did my inner labia first, as he’d promised, using canula needles, that left a small plastic sleeve behind when they passed through my body. He used circlip pliers to open each ring, which were not ball closures, like the one that would go through my clit, but more like small hoop earrings, with a narrow end that fit into the hollow of the other end. He put three in each of my labia minora, spaced equally apart with a few millimeters between them, and interlocked as he’d described so that my pussy was effectively shut to any meaningful penetration. It was forced chastity and my emotional response was curious. I didn’t know how I’d feel about that in the days, weeks, possibly even years to come.
The piercing of my clitoris was next, my clitoral hood, I should say. He wouldn’t actually pierce my clit, thank goodness. I still fidgeted nervously however, watching as Keiyu prepared me for it. All of the rings in my labia were 2mm gauge surgical steel, but the one in my clit would be smaller, only 1.6mm and made of 18 carat gold. It was a ball closure ring with the ball itself made from a small 4mm pearl. Although beautiful to look at, father told me he would have preferred to use a less ornamental ring of surgical steel until I’d healed, and then replaced it, but Mistress Atsumi had insisted on this.
He rubbed my clitoris once again, but this time engaged my tender flesh with a surgical clamp. Resembling a small pair of scissors, they were designed for squeezing, not cutting, and he gripped my clit and pulled it outward slightly. He wanted to get the ring as low as possible, father explained, and very near the base of my clitoris. This wasn’t so much painful as it was dramatically over-stimulating and I trembled at the sensation, biting my lips as Mistress Atsumi held me in her arms and whispered soft words of encouragement.
Father did the actual piercing quickly after that and it did hurt, but not nearly so bad as I’d imagined. He did it as he’d done with my labia, using a canula needle, pushing it through the thin sheath completely until a plastic sleeve penetrated my flesh, then threading the ring through the sleeve. He removed the sleeve and fitted the pearl ball closure and let the ring close shut. It was over in only a few minutes and I stared at the new jewelry I sported, hanging just to left of tender clitoris like a pale drop of milk. The ring itself, I quickly realized, had been placed in a position where it would forever stimulate my clitoris, whether I wanted it to or not.
Mistress Atsumi kissed me as I relaxed, smiling with relief that the procedure had been so simple. It was probably harder for father than for me, trying to juggle the clamp, the needle, the circlip pliers, and the ring. I giggled and told him he needed an assistant and he took it good naturedly, smiling up at me and telling me that sharing would take half the fun out of it.
Father washed me gently again, then took a number of photos, asking me to spread my pussy at one point so that the rings in my inner lips could be more easily seen. After taking the pictures, he applied a medicinal cream to fight infection and handed me the tube to take with me. He told me what to watch for as I healed, and how to care for my piercings, but didn’t go into a lot of detail. He repeated that Mistress Atsumi knew how to care for me. He said the best thing now would be to go home and lie down, to remain off my feet for a few days, and let my body take care of itself. All of this sounded very good to me because I was very tired then.
I did put my panties back on and I both walked and sat very carefully on the way to Mistress Atsumi’s apartment. She lived near the Ginza, the great shopping district, and her apartments were generous by Japanese standards, on the eighth floor of a large complex. She led me to a bedroom, which seemed largely to be used for storage at the moment, and told me it would be mine. She found me a simple kimono, of the casual sort used for relaxing in the privacy of one’s home or garden, and left to make us tea while I changed. I could move only slowly, for my piercings had begun to ache greatly, and of course the dress was still tight and difficult to remove, but I managed.
I found Mistress Atsumi in the kitchen, she had undressed as the water heated and now stood wearing only a silk robe, belted around her waist. She smiled when she saw me and placed our tea, sugar, cream, and some small pastries on a tray and I followed her to a large balcony. It was secluded and filled with plants so that it resembled a terrace garden. One could almost ignore the city spread out behind the thick shrubbery and trees that crowded the wrought iron railing.
Mistress Atsumi and I sat close together in small lounge chairs, sipping our tea and talking. We discussed who we were, where we’d come from, our experiences growing up, sharing the little things that make us who we are. It was very much like a first date, that nervous talk when you hope you won’t say something silly, or that your interests won’t seem utterly boring. The difference of course was that I’d already given myself to this woman, even though I had no real understanding of why or how. It had just happened. How dreadful it might have been then to find that we had nothing in common, that we were not meant for each other after all.
Luckily, that was not the case. If anything I found myself even more drawn to this incredibly beautiful Japanese woman. Every word she said rang familiar to me, echoing a similar thought, or feeling, or experience in my own life. I think my words had the same effect on her as well. At some point our tea was forgotten and I found myself embraced in her arms, kissing the woman passionately as she whispered soft words of love into my ears. I, who had never had a lesbian experience in my life until that evening, was hopelessly enamored with my new Mistress.
The hour had grown late when Fumiko arrived. She and Mistress Atsumi shared everything it seemed; ownership of the BDSM club, the apartment, and to some extent even me. Fumiko found us still on the terrace, quietly sitting and almost sleeping by then in the warm summer night. She had prepared a snack and sat down to eat it, smiling at us as she discussed what had happened at the club, small business things that were of no major importance. Mistress Atsumi in her turn told Fumiko that I had given myself to her completely, news that did not seem to surprise Fumiko, nor was it immediately apparent if she was pleased or displeased. I felt very tired by then and found it too difficult to try and understand the girl.
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