“And you are a bad little slave,” the lovely girl chided me with a grin, pulling me by the arm to follow her into the bathroom.
I used the toilet, although it was difficult, and Fumiko rewarded me with a warm, soapy enema. I’d never experienced such a thing before, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as I’d feared. It actually felt good for a little while and about the time it became uncomfortable I was allowed to expel the dirty fluid. This was repeated twice more until Fumiko was satisfied and then she washed the rest of me, paying careful attentions to my piercings, which were healing well, she decided.
Fumiko replaced my butt plug and fastened my collar around my neck and allowed me to dress in something reasonable, at least by the standards to which I was becoming accustomed. A cream colored leather miniskirt and a red silk blouse, sans bra of course, so my nipples protruded obscenely. I put on a red thong, pulling it tight across the flanged base of my buttplug and high over my hips. Some red fishnet stockings and cream colored heels finished my outfit. I made up my face and brushed my golden hair, tying it back in a thick pony tail, while Fumiko dressed in her own bedroom.
She emerged looking like a Goth goddess in what had to be an authentic German SS uniform or part of one anyway, and tailored to her pixie form. Fumiko wore gleaming black jack boots into which her black wool trousers were tucked neatly. The pants were pleated and tailored to hug her hips and ass nicely, ballooning slightly at the knees. She wore no blouse at all, just a black wool jacket, casually buttoned so that her breasts were exposed when she moved. The jacket had collar tabs and epaulets embroidered in silver, for rank I guessed, though I had no idea what they represented. There was silver piping around the collar and cuffs, and a patch with an eagle holding a swastika on the left breast. Around her neck she wore a red and black ribbon with an authentic iron cross dangling from it. On her head, Fumiko wore a peaked cap in silver and black with a gleaming skull pinned on the front. She carried a leather riding crop, slapping it against her thigh as she stared at me and her face had been painted white, with deep black eyes and crimson lips. On the whole, the effect seemed both frightening and terribly exciting, I thought.
Fumiko attached the leash to my collar and led me outside and I could only imagine what people must have thought of us. Me, tall, blonde and American, and dressed like a prostitute, being led on a leash by a small, elfin, Japanese girl costumed as evil incarnate. I kept my eyes down for much of the short walk to the subway station, avoiding the stares and trying to ignore the odd comments and giggles. It was early evening and the streets were crowded, the trains would be even worse, I knew.
Standing on the subway, everyone was pushed very close together. I stood facing Fumiko, her face coming just to my breasts and I looked down on her as we moved from stop to stop, with interminable periods of swaying in between. We had 6 stops before arriving at Shinagawa Station and we’d transfer to a real train. Between the 3rd and 4th I suddenly felt someone’s hand on my thigh, stroking up the back of my leg towards my barely covered ass. I sucked a little breath of air and my body tensed causing Fumiko to look up sharply into my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. The hand played along the tops of my stockings and I closed my eyes for a second, feeling both slight embarrassment and pangs of excitement at being touched like that in public by a stranger. It brought back memories of previous encounters and a part of me had missed those furtive moments.
“Someone is touching me…” I spoke softly as well, but doubtless a few people around us could hear, perhaps even the man whose fingers were moving ever upward toward my sex.
Fumiko moved a little, peeking around me to see who was doing it. “Do you want him to stop, Jen-san?” she asked a little louder.
The fingers abruptly moved away from me and I blinked, shaking my head slowly. “No, I…I enjoy it.” I looked into Fumiko’s eyes trying to find some understanding, but she seemed confused by my complicity. “It is a secret pleasure.”
“Is it?” Fumiko’s voice sounded doubtful. “Very well. Take off your panties then,” she ordered.
“What? Fumiko…” I started to protest but the look in her eyes, the realization that she could lose face in front of total strangers with my refusal, broke my will. “Yes, Fumiko-san.”
If there’d been enough room I would have bowed in apology, as it was I slowly and somewhat clumsily worked my thong down my thighs, letting gravity pull them to my ankles. I bent my knees, crouching straight down to retrieve them, feeling the plug in my ass protesting the unusual movement. I could also feel the eyes of several dozen people, mostly men, but more than a few women as well, watching me. I stood up, red faced and breathless, staring into Fumiko’s eyes.
She took my red thong from my fingers silently, handing them to someone behind me, presumably the man who had been touching me. “You wanted to feel these?” Fumiko’s voice was loud enough to attract even more attention than we had already, if that was possible. I closed my eyes and felt my body burning up. “Take them home and give them to your daughter, pervert.”
I don’t know if Fumiko threw them in his face, or if he took them from her hand, or if she just dropped them on the floor. I’d had my eyes tightly shut and when I opened them again, all I knew was that I no longer had any underwear at all. I felt horribly exposed like that, as if everyone could see under my short skirt. I imagined people seeing the bit of rubber from the base of the butt plug protruding from my ass as I walked. Or the rings in my vagina, or the pearl on my clit. I felt cold and hot all over and Fumiko just smiled at me, enjoying her game immensely.
“Is it better now for you, Jen-san?” she almost giggled. “Now if a man wants you, we will have to find something else to remove.” I swallowed nervously at the thought that Fumiko would make me remove the plug from my ass in public. That would be too much, even for the bizarre permissive world of Tokyo mass transit. Luckily, the rest of our little trip was uneventful, despite my much too overactive imagination.
Exiting Yokohama Station we took a taxi to the club and inside it was much as I remembered it. There were a few dozen customers, even though it was early, even by Japanese standards. Fumiko led me back, past the bar and down the short hallway to the dressing room. There were three Japanese girls inside, one of them I remembered as the girl in the bikini who’d assisted Mistress Atsumi the night I’d been there. They were all young, barely eighteen if I’d had to guess, and strikingly beautiful. Fumiko largely ignored their respectful, if somewhat playful greetings and introduced me quickly.
“This is Miki and her sister, Niya.” Fumiko gestured at the two I hadn’t seen before. “And this is Ayu. Miki and Niya will perform tonight, always together, so you will see what they are like.” Fumiko smiled and the girls nodded happily. “Ayu is Mistress Atsumi’s assistant, you’ve seen her before. We have six others, hostess girls who will sit with the customers and sometimes perform on the stage. You can meet them later.”
“Are you a Russian?” Niya asked me and I shook my head, smiling and telling them I’m American.
“See? I told you!” Miki laughed. “You’re so stupid.”
“I am not. She looks Russian!” Niya said as she removed what was unmistakably a school uniform, like something out of a Sailor Moon comic. Her sister was already naked, sitting on a metal folding chair and working her small body into a white fishnet body stocking.
“How old are you?” I asked Niya, admiring her lithe body while trying not to stare. It wasn’t easy for the girls were twins, obviously, and beautiful as I mentioned.
“That depends on who is asking!” Miki giggled.
“That’s enough talking. They are sixteen now and they behave like spoiled five year olds.” Fumiko had been digging through some plastic containers, finding what I would need for the evening. “You will be a hostess tonight, Jen-san.”
“We come here after school,” Niya said. She was standing in her panties now and she had a gymnist’s body, very firm and toned, with small breasts and the most wonderful ass I’d ever seen.
“We’re very popular!” Miki laughed. She had the same perfect body as her sister and she posed for me with her hands on her hips and tits thrust outward invitingly.
“Popular with dirty old pedophiles,” Fumiko retorted, pushing the girl out of the way.
Atsumi appeared briefly, just looking into the small room. She barely glanced at me, focusing instead on Fumiko and Atsumi told her to dress me for working, but to make sure my breasts were bound again. I started to speak, not understanding this at all, when Atsumi waved her hand. “And a gag as well. She is beautiful, but I’m tired to hear her voice now.”
My Mistress disappeared then and that was perhaps the hardest lesson, that in the club I would have to share her attentions and doubtless there would be times when I would feel the lesser for it. Fumiko pulled me along with her to the offices, where there was a dressing room and several wardrobe closets, the temporary sort made of cardboard and plastic that the Japanese favor. I tried asking Fumiko what was going on, but she just told me she didn’t know. The young woman used a strange sort of gag that I’d never seen before. It was made of hard rubber, red in color, and shaped like a very thin ‘O’ that fit into my teeth, stretching my mouth open uncomfortably. There were two thin straps that went to the back of my head. It felt strange and I realized there was a depressor on the underside that effectively trapped my tongue.
“Do not remove that,” Fumiko warned me with a smile, but her eyes were serious. “Or Mistress Atsumi will be unhappy with you.”
Next she fitted my breasts with a thin leather belt around each one, pulling them so tight I thought she’d cinch my boobs right off my chest. I gasped as a fresh wave of pain awoke the welts that I still sported. Fumiko pushed at my back, bending me over so she could remove the plug in my ass then helped me into a black leather thong and a pair of black fishnet stockings that came mid-thigh. A pair of stiletto heels in black leather completed my ‘uniform’ and Fumiko stepped back to admire me.
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