Junior Executive to Japanese Sex Slave by spacybickerson

Junior Executive to Japanese Sex SlaveThe true story of Jennifer, a young American businesswoman who is transferred by her company to live and work in Tokyo. Once there she discovers that an MBA from Harvard can’t prepare her for the vulgar and misogynistic culture of Corporate Japan. The beautiful executive is herself humiliated, debased, and eventually ‘sold’ to a Japanese nightclub specializing in BDSM and ritual perversions that innocent Jennifer could never have imagined.

Jennifer begins her story:

I wasn’t thrilled when my company transferred me to its Tokyo office as part of a cross-cultural management integration process. I was 25, fresh out of Harvard with an MBA and looking forward to settling down, working 9 to 5 and maybe even finding a boyfriend. I’d been so busy during college that I hadn’t had much of a social life, even though I am very attractive and had plenty of offers.

Appearance is everything sometimes and even more so in Japan and being a five foot ten Caucasian with shoulder length blond hair, I stand out. I also have blue-green eyes and large firm breasts, which fit my well-formed body nicely and seem almost ponderous compared to the average near flat chested Japanese girls. My boobs don’t need support so I wear demibras that just barely cover the nipple to keep them from bouncing. My butt is nice and round whereas most Japanese girls seem to have none at all. I have great legs and I like wearing short skirts, nice, tailored blouses, and blazers.

I have to commute to work by train, which Tokyo are extremely crowded. Japanese men take a perverse pleasure in the crowded trains to feel up any woman who catches their fancy. This makes commuting a daily exercise in self-control because it is considered impolite to get angry and display emotion. Venting on a Japanese man usually only gets unsympathetic looks from everyone else, and man himself would studiously ignore me.

Perversely not reacting invites more and bolder advances, a no win situation which is humiliating, even degrading, and at first I was nearly driven to tears. Now I just keep my body still and try to ignore what is happening, but this isn’t always possible. Actually, after months of such treatment I’d learned to find some small pleasure from it, although even now that’s only rarely the case and depends on my mood.

One warm September day, I was wearing a short cotton skirt, no pantyhose, just a crotch cover thong, plain cotton blouse that was unbuttoned to show a hint of cleavage and a light blazer. I stood in a corner of the crowded train where I could look out the window, when I felt a hand going back and forth rubbing my thigh.

I ignored the hand, each time little pushing higher as the train rocked until the fingers reached my butt and turned sideways, pushing into the crack a little to spread my legs. I resisted but the hand was insistent, and in my desire to avoid a useless confrontation, I shuffled my feet slightly to let the hand push in. The fingers rubbed my pussy for a few minutes and then slipped fingers inside the thong to touch slip inside my slit.

Such things don’t usually excite me, but sometimes they do and that day I could feel myself getting damp as the fingers pushed inside me, my labia clinging to it as it worked slowly in and out. I leaned against the window shutting my eyes and soon I was very wet. The finger then moved to my butt hole, the Japanese are fascinated by anything anal, and the wet finger began pushing into my butt, making me gasp very softly as the muscles reluctantly gave way. It didn’t feel bad though and he fingered me for several minutes before the train came to a station and the fingers withdrew.

When the train resumed moving I assumed whoever who had been fingering me would still be there, but instead I was surprised by some very different fingers. Obviously another man had seen what was being done to me and moved in after the first one left, these were thicker and not as gentle at probing me.

He then he took my hand and pulled it back so I could feel his exposed cock. I wrapped my hand around his prick, feeling it not too hard, but thick and warm and we masturbated each other until he suddenly came, spurting all over my hand, wrist, and the back of my legs. I felt slightly disgusted at that point and blushed as I wondered how in the world I was going to clean myself up. My stop was coming soon and I’d literally have to push my way through the crowd to get out. I ended up surreptitiously wiping my hand on my skirt. The man had stopped fingering me as soon as he came and I never did see either of the men’s faces.

In corporate Japan it is common, in fact practically mandatory, if they are at all attractive, for Japanese businesswomen to prostitute themselves during their lunch hour. At first I was shocked, then even more so when one of the men in my department suggested we get a hotel room, he would to pay 10,000 yen, about a hundred dollars for an hour of my company. I refused, but the offers persisted, and not just from him and I discovered that the men in the company had a betting pool as to which of them would be first to fuck me.

I found this insulting and reported it to my supervisor, an older Japanese man who struck me as a fair and reasonable fellow. To my surprise he said I should not say no to my fellow employees, it was bad for the company spirit, we were a team and I should do my part to make us successful. I was so put out by this that I took a few days off, calling in sick. When I came back to work my supervisor wasn’t pleased at all and while he didn’t mention my lack of providing my sexual services specifically, he did make it very clear that he would file some very adverse comments about my performance if my attitude didn’t change.

I was being blackmailed, it was plain as day, and there was nothing I could do about it. The company had no sexual harassment policy in Japan. I’m serious, it just did not exist. I finally accepted an offer from one of the supervisors in another department, who at least was good looking. He took me to a “love hotel” named ‘Happy Moon Love’ in English for the most brutal sex of my life, he literally raped me though I’d come willingly though feeling very embarrassed as everyone in the office would know I’d finally agreed to prostitute myself.

The room was small with only a thin futon on a traditional tatami floor mat. My Japanese still wasn’t very good, and his English was marginal at best. Inside the room we undressed, I hadn’t been with a man in almost a year and knew this guy hardly at all. Naked I turned around to see him stroking a surprisingly large cock, like most Westerners I’d imagined that oriental men were generally small in the penile department, but this guy certainly gave lie to that, hard it was a nice length and fairly big around.

I wasn’t exactly sure if I should just lie down or what and I smiled a little nervously as he stared at me, then, without a word grabbed one of my boobs, squeezing so hard I nearly screamed, pulling me to my knees. It felt like he was trying to rip my tender tit off my chest, I would have been outraged, but was too frightened, It was so unexpected and beyond my experience, I had no idea how to deal with it.

Pushing his cock in my face he grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth onto him. I’d never really been into sucking off men before and was reluctant to do so for someone little more than a stranger, but he didn’t care. Holding my head he just fucked my mouth, it was almost painful as he tried to get my throat open so I could deep throat. I sucked him noisily, choking and gagging, my hands pressing against his thighs. Finally he caught me just right and his cock popped into my throat, sliding down, until his hairy balls pressed into my chin, holding me like that eyes watering, throat sore and bruised. I sputtered and retched a little when he pulled back, gasping for air until he did it again.

It was only slightly easier the second time, he fucked my throat for a while, talking to me in Japanese and laughing occasionally. It got easier as I learned how to control my throat and how to let him enter so it didn’t hurt so much. Basically he was raping my mouth and I felt deeply ashamed as he did it I had my eyes closed and was crying nearly the entire time. This seemed to amuse him though, and I’ve found the same to be true with many different Japanese men, they really like to feel that thrill of power over a woman, especially a gaijin.

At least he didn’t cum in my mouth like I was afraid he would, instead he put me on my hands and knees to fuck me doggy style, shoving his cock roughly into my cunt. I was grateful he was so wet from my mouth, as my vagina was very dry. It still hurt as he stretched me very quickly and made me cry out, which of course was a sign to him that I wanted more. I realized he wasn’t wearing a condom and I wasn’t on the pill as I had no reason to be until that afternoon.

I tried breathlessly, gasping the words between his thrusts, to tell him that he would have to pull out; I couldn’t afford to get pregnant. I didn’t know if he understood or not, but realized he had no intention of pulling out. Instead he grabbed my arms, literally pulling me back onto his cock as he leaned backwards, so we were joined and balanced on our knees, fucking like that, I couldn’t have gotten away from him if I’d tried. It was painful and humiliating with my wrists bound in his surprisingly strong grip. My arms and shoulders ached as he pulled me hard against him, stabbing his cock inside me like a blunt knife. He was deep enough that his cockhead found the bottom of my vagina, banging against my tender cervix; it was like being punched between my legs.