We stayed just long enough to put my things in my bedroom and then we left again, this time going to the Ginza to do some shopping. I had no money, but Fumiko didn’t seem to care. We bought an assortment of personal items for me, especially cosmetics, perfumes, scented oils and soaps, innumerable beauty products really. I briefly wondered if Fumiko was trying to say something about my personal hygiene. We bought some clothing, but it was all for wearing around the apartment. A silk robe, some house slippers, pajamas, nightgowns, that sort of thing. I wasn’t used to that, having been accustomed to just sleeping in an oversized t-shirt and panties for much of my life.
By the time we carted our purchases back to the apartment it was nearly 6pm and we left again, this time going out for dinner. We hadn’t spoken much during the day. I was uncertain of Fumiko’s attitude towards me, which seemed at times to be warm and friendly, almost loving, and at other times the woman could be distant, almost cold in a way. Fumiko herself did not deign to enlighten me, speaking to me only when it was necessary. I worried over that very much.
At dinner I decided to find out, if I could, what the woman really thought of me. We were in a nice restaurant that specialized in Kobe steak and the prices were ridiculous, even by Tokyo standards. Fumiko ordered for the both of us and we had a bottle of wine while we waited for our dinner.
“Fumiko-san,” I spoke slowly. “Are you angry with me?”
“No, I’m not angry.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you ask me that?”
“I would like very much to be your friend.” I chose my words carefully. “I am only afraid that I have disappointed you in some way. If I have…displeased you…I beg your forgiveness, Fumiko-san.”
“You do not displease me, Jen,” she smiled and adopted the English version of my name. “I’m very happy to be with you, as if we are sisters now.”
I smiled at her words. “I am sorry I have misunderstood…” I started, but she cut me off.
“There’s no need to apologize. I haven’t been so friendly, you’re right.” She reached out to touch my hand and I gripped her tiny fingers. “If you were mine, perhaps this would be different between us, but…” she made a small fluttering gesture with her other hand, “…I am only your friend, not your Mistress.”
“I’m glad you are my friend, Fumiko-san,” I replied truthfully and shifted in my seat with some annoyance. The plug in my ass grew extremely uncomfortable when I sat down any longer than ten minutes or so.
“Your posture,” the girl laughed lightly. “The dildo in your rectum, Jen-san. You must learn to sit properly.”
“Oh!” I blinked and looked around the crowded restaurant self-consciously. Thankfully most Japanese are polite enough, or rude enough perhaps, to make a point of ignoring even the most attractive foreigners.
Our food arrived and we ate in silence for a moment before I returned to the subject which interested me most.
“I am in love with your sister,” I said, wishing to make that clear. I required Fumiko’s good opinion more than anything else and maybe her reassurance as well. I really didn’t have any idea what I was doing.
“I love her as well,” Fumiko smiled sadly. “So perhaps I am also jealous? I don’t know.”
“You call her Mistress though?” I was trying to understand.
“Yes. That is so, but only because I wish it, not because she demands it. She does not sleep with me, Jen-san.” Fumiko looked pointedly at me. “As much as I would have her, Atsumi will not have me. It isn’t proper for us, she has told me that, and I believe sometimes it’s a cruelty that I should feel this when she does not.”
We had our dinner and returned to the apartment. I removed my clothes and then my butt plug, washing it before using the toilet. I felt very sore and my piercings itched, so Fumiko washed me gently. While we bathed from the plastic tub, pouring water over ourselves with a large scoop, I looked at Fumiko shyly.
“Do you…need to pee, Fumiko-san?”
“Why do you ask?” She gave me a little grin.
“Because I…” I blushed despite the cold water. “I would like to learn. I displeased Mistress Atsumi this morning, I think.”
“No!” Fumiko laughed and shook her head. “She was very pleased by you.”
I looked at my friend. “Are you sure? But she said…”
“Of course she cannot tell you, but you will learn these things. Soon enough you will know how to tell.”
“But I would still like to…learn,” I said softly.
“I think you did not like it.” Fumiko washed my breasts. They were still sore and the bruises were faded into yellowish-purple splotches. Her strong fingers very nearly brought tears to my eyes as they worked the tender flesh. “And I must also punish you yet. Have you forgotten that?”
I had forgotten that Mistress Atsumi wanted me punished. I sat looking at Fumiko, not saying anything while she finished bathing me. She reached for my sex and pulled at the ring in my clit gently, watching as that curious knot of flesh was drawn tight. I gasped at the flash of pain, but more at the immediate shock of pleasure. The girl smiled with satisfaction as a tiny shudder went through me.
And what a smile. Her angelic face seemed so innocent and pure right then, almost child-like but for her penetrating gaze. Fumiko had her sister’s eyes and I could hide nothing from them. “You are a true slave, Jen-san,” she decided softly. “You will never be satisfied by what we can do to you, I think.”
I could only sit there, looking at her. “Yes,” I sighed, knowing she was right. I would protest and resist and then only later would I realize how much I’d enjoyed and needed it.
“But we will try anyway!” Fumiko giggled and stood up. I took her hand and she pulled me to my feet as well. “Bend over now.”
I did as the small girl asked and grimaced slightly as Fumiko pushed the plug back into my ass. My muscles were being trained, I realized, and there was very little discomfort, it went in easily and the overall feeling was almost soothing. Soon it would seem more uncomfortable to be without that hard intrusive presence. I straightened back up and Fumiko dried me off and led me into my bedroom where she applied more of the cream to my piercings. My clit burned under her touch and she stroked it just for a second, teasing me.
“Lie down now and we will punish your breasts,” Fumiko said softly and I groaned at the thought. They were still sore and discolored from the previous day, so much so that I’d almost been certain that Fumiko would have to find some other way to punish me. She caught my look and just pushed me back. “Do not worry, Jen-san. This is very easy, you’ll see.”
“But they are still sore, Fumiko-san. Please…” I couldn’t finish because the girl brought her hand to my cheek with a hard stinging slap. I felt my eyes watering and my whole body seemed to flush, not from the pain, which was very slight, but from the surprise and humiliation.
“I am sorry, Fumiko-san,” I whispered immediately and I sank back onto my bed, keeping my eyes tightly shut.
“Your Mistress loves you, Jen,” Fumiko said quietly, her fingertips tracing my features. “And so I will love you also. That’s why I will do this, do you understand?”
I nodded and my lips moved, but no sound escaped.
“And that’s why you will accept it.” She left the bed and moved to the bureau, returning a moment later and sitting next to me as I lay there. “Open your eyes now.”
“Yes…Mistress.” I blinked at her. Fumiko sat very erect on the bed, still naked and meltingly beautiful. She held what looked like a leather belt, although it seemed to be shaped more like a pretzel than anything else.
“Do not call me that.” Fumiko slipped the strange belt around my breasts. It was basically two small belts connected together, I saw, so that they formed a shape like the number eight. “We only have one Mistress. I am doing this because she wishes it.”
“You don’t want to do this to me?” I asked without trying to be clever, only wanting to understand. She cinched the belts tightly around each of my breasts, one at a time. Once again it brought more discomfort than real pain as the fatty tissue was squeezed to such a small diameter that I had the irrational fear that Fumiko would somehow sever them completely.
“Of course I do,” she giggled. “You have such wonderful, perfect breasts, Jen-san. How could I ever tire of this?” She sat back; watching as my tits seemed to swell, plumping until the thin strips of leather binding them were almost invisible.
My body began protesting almost immediately, my chest filling with an ache at first, a low burning sensation. My nipples itched and hardened to twin dark points, demanding attention. I had to fight to resist the urge to touch myself. I arched my back and grabbed small fistfuls of bed sheet, digging my fingers into the soft cool fabric.
“Do not move,” Fumiko told me sternly. “I will get the candle.” She gave me a little giggle as she left the room.
While I struggled with the idea of Fumiko using hot wax on my breasts, I watched as my once pale skin turned pink and then slowly red. They felt as if they were on fire and the feeling spread rapidly throughout my entire body, centering it seemed on my sex. I pressed my thighs together, all too aware of the moisture weeping from my slit. I wanted to touch myself so badly, to feel my breasts, to rub the sweet spot hiding just behind my clit. I began to tremble with the effort of keeping my hands still.
Time was a lost concept to that awful, growing torture. How long had Fumiko been gone? Where was she, I wondered. I needed her. I needed her attention, her permission, her presence and approval. I was longing for more, to be whipped, or waxed, or clamped, or whatever else she wanted to do to me. The pain grew steadily worse, not from my bonds, but from being denied. The belts were just enough to make me want more, didn’t she know that? I was supposed to be punished. Where was Fumiko? I had memories of being whipped and I tried to relive them, to imagine Fumiko stroking my flesh with her crop. The pain flashing through me, bringing my blood to boiling, giving my desire voice in screams of pain. I needed it now, more than I’d ever needed anything.
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