Absolute friends link

Tokyo, November 1981

Almost a month and half or two after the « hard connection » with Kanako, I paid another visit to the SexShop in Roppongi. I came back with tools that I immediately locked in a drawer, puting the key in my pocket, for later use.

For what I had in mind both Yooki and Kanako were needed, but Kanako was out, completing her divorce proceedings and moving her private belongings to her mother’s house. A week later, she was back with us, explaining what happened with the divorce and its registration with the city hall registry office. She was clearly relaxed to be again here, even if knowing what will happen.

I was perfectly quiet, concerned with her ending marital pangs, talking and answering as usual, helping to set the table up while they were preparing the dishes, chatting or taking care of the baby. The dinners were very pleasant and discussions lasted quite long during the nights. Until one day, they said they were taking a bath. (no bad ideas please, learn what is bath time for japaneses). I smiled my agreement with a so unusual angelic face that Kanachan expression became unsure.

They walked in the changing room, then to the bathroom itself, chating non stop as I could hear from where I was. After five minutes waiting, I went to the changing room, took away all their clothes and changes then opened a drawer, took out the two pairs of cuffs I had bought and waited.

I was hearing their voices : Yooki’s high pitched, Kanako’s a bit hoarse with splashes of water in between. Then voices only, they were in the tub, relaxing in the hot water. They’ll get out in about half an hour, after that, it will be my turn… to play.

When howlings reached my hears, I knew it was time. They rushed out the bath area, wrapped in towels, discussing, asking for, even ordering to have their rags back. I stood up and within 5 or 6 seconds ; their wrists were cuffed leaving them standing side by side and, in the move, swiftly, took away the towels.

I like naked women,

I liked them then, more, they were completely unsettled, I loved it a lot. The claims cooled down ; they sufficiently knew me, something was to happen. No real happening in fact at that very time, just pushing them to sit on the sofa, testing their furs with a soft, delicate, not intrusive hands. I just stood and took from a stage my shaving cream, razor and after-shave lotion…

Protests or not had no influence, I made both of them « clean », as they had been in previous experiences, they talked and claimed but stayed still to avoid any unfortunate cut in their such precious places. They were perfect,  with their legs wide spreaded. I took the opportunity to lock the other cuffs on their ankles.

Really side by side, they had no choice and complaining was not to have any hope, they knew but they tried. They tried in any way possible from threat, tears, with blackmail, caress, smiles and kicking in the middle. I stood up, looked at them, smiled, went to a drawer, took two envelopes, wrote our address on one and said, while dropping a key in each, « I give you two chance to free yourself : one envelope will be in our mail box in the lobby of this building, the other, I am going to post is as registered letter that will be delivered to you in three days against a discharge to sign ». I put my shoes and left them alone and stunned.

Back 40 minutes later from the post office with the paper prooving a letter was sent : « Now my beauties, you either go to pick the key in the lobby of the condominium or wait for the postman ».

I burst in laugh. « And the dice will roll, perhaps ! »

They did not dared to go down to the mail box and played dead when the bell rang on following monday morning. In all, it lasted eight days. eight days during which I was busier than usual : my job, the grocery : meat, bread, rice, fish, cans, cooking on the evening, bath with the baby (18 months, it was not so hard), but for the  baby food the subs refused my cooperation. During the day, they were sole in charge, improving with time their hability to move and walk as one body.

They knew each other since school time, went to travel together, went to onsen many time and shared the public bath. Nudity was not a problem, but this time, they had not any second of privacy. During those eight days, I watched them giving up all pride and losing all sense of modesty (that was already very low at least with me). Linked together, permanently nude together, no privacy at all, taking the bath together, washing the unreachable parts of the other, going to the toilets with the other, helping the other even for it. And it lasted eight days non stop. I saw them pass from revolt to abnegation, then to acceptance and then, reach pure habit.

On the morning of the last day, a Saturday, I prepared the breakfast. I finished first, my moves not being impaired at all, and put a key on the table.

Unbelievable ! They took the key and freed themselves only seven hours later. After that, I rolled the dice and visited Kanako while Yooki was pleasing herself without any restraint.

I knew they were ready for something different and went ahead.

Rope

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After the end of that cuffed week, all three of us passed 10 or 12 days discussing about what happened. As both Yooki and me started our periods, Rope, who is not a blood lover, took some distances : sometime discussing at home, otherwise visiting the Yoake Club, returning before midnight except once when he arrived by 3 or 4 when we were deep sleeping.

We were free, but I knew, we knew that He had something else in mind. Perhaps the fact that I started my period just on the following Monday and Yooki two days later resulted in a very quiet time allowing to talk, just Tampax strings hanging between our thighs.

So difficult to move, we had to learn to coordinate the smallest of our actions, moving, eating, drinking, anything required us to be one, not two separate individuals.

If at the begining, we considered the situation as completely crazy and appaling, time passing made it more acceptable in some ways. On the first night, we had the impulse to go to the mail box on the basement while Rope was sleeping, we opened the door of the flat, but Yooki withdrew inside as a next door neighbour was just arriving. And it was already 2 in the morning. We gave up and did not tried twice. When the door bell ringed the next day, we did not dare to answer (looking through the eyelid if whe could move sufficiently fast).

The baby girl was also an important subject in our talks. One day He remarked that the girl was moving on all four faster than the grown women. That was perfecly true, no need of movements coordination for her, but un our case we had to communicate or feel the start of the move in way to coordinate. True for both chained hands and feet, but worse for feet, walk was an ordeal : always fearing to fall, walk like dogs was easier and was for sure a pleasure for Him to see. But the reverse was also true when He was bathing the baby, we had a lot of fun, calling him MaMaster. When He was at home preparing the baby bottle as Yooki was not breast feeding sufficiently, we were having the girl on our laps, sucking mama, or playing with me, while waiting the bottle.

One day, she was hungry, her mother production unsufficient, she turned to me and started to suck my nipple.

Rope, laughing, said :  « we are a big family »

It happened again several times even after we were freed and it gave me the strong desire to have myself a baby.

I never said anything, but He understood faster than Yooki what I had in mind.

Shame came from the absolute lack of privacy. Yooki and me were used to be naked, but then our shame reached what we thought to be a culminating summit. It was horrific during the early days, having to do what the other couldn’t, in particular clean the other on our « out of reach » body parts with our really usable hand, in my case my left one. Pee and shit was a performance that none of us appreciated at all ; Rope included, but our self degradation was so pleasing to Him beyond all limits. « Self » because He never asked for anything, but He arranged everything in a way not leaving us other choices. Some days later, something else, a little bit more forceful happened.

Kanako

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We had no choice, but he did not pushed us in any way it is why I was so deeply ashamed of myself. I did not say no, nor Kanako either. Ashamed of what we had to do also of course, but it was secondary, and He confirmed it later when we talked about that week long sequence.

He had an absolute mental advantage on Kanako and me, impossible to say no from our side. Should we had said so, I am sure He would have stopped, but our life would have sharply changed, what I did not wanted.

Yooki

Greeting Cards

We are now writing our Christmas and New Year greeting cards for this year and it remember me the end of 1990 when we were sending our best wishes to a dozen of couples we knew well, very well, so well, having sex together when we could meet.

Some cards were going to Japan, Kanako and our Doctor included, one to Italy for Francesco and his wife, the others to France, in particular for Georges and Marie and also Robert and Christiane.

The writings were either by Rope or me. He signed all, but my sign was a tuft of my pubic hairs sticked at the bottom of the cards.

Since our moving from Tokyo to France, hairs had grown again and Rope suggested to wait December for the harvest.

But after that I never sent such signed letters because he offered me as Christmas present a year (every two months) pulsed light depilation treatment which is awfully efficient on dark hairs.

Yooki

Steps from nothing to crazy love

1969 Amami Oshima

My first time was when I was 19, it was almost an accident. With my brothers and friends of ours we were spending some relaxing days after the coming of age ceremony.

Camping under our individual tents replaced the expensive hotels room fees , my family could have paid, but it was unaffordable for some of our friends. Feeling of freedom, without control, it was perfect ?

The day on the beach sharing time between swimming in the ocean and listening The Beatles and others from our transistors radio sets on the sand : eating, drinking, sleeping at night while earing the rythm of the waves nearby.

The last night before boarding the ship back to Tokyo, we made a fire on the beach and started to drink the bottles of joshu we bought from a small shop near the public bath house. An hour later, I was seriously drunk, not being used to alcoholic beverages. One of the boys, himself more than « happy », proposed to help me back to the tents 200 yards away.

I do not remember how it occured, but I remember just a slight pain inside, a weight on me, then nothing else. On the morning I found myself laying on my sleeping bag, nude from the waist down and, when I packed my bag for the return, I discovered some blackened drops of blood on the bag.

Raped or not ? I do not know, but I thought that I was rid of that akward virginity. Clearly, I was not shocked at all, within 3 months I had become adult and woman.

Of course, I talked of all of this with Kanako who recommanded me to pay attention to my periods, a baby not being welcome in such a case.

                                                            ------------------------------------

1973 Tokyo Roppongi

After such a start, I remained without any problem without sex during more than four years, until I went clubbing in Roppongi with old girls friends from high school time.

On the dancing floor, I bumped in a young man who was moving a bit too much. Tons of apologies and he joined us a tour table. Not bad looking at all, he attracted my attention as I seemed to attract his.

My friends decided to leave around midnight, I left with him an hour later, not for home but for a love hotel nearby. Not the crazy delight that Kanako described, but a not unpleasant feeling only.

We re-did three times during the following months. It was very mechanical : each time he rushed to the comdom distributor, striped, telling me to do so (« put you at ease’ was his word for it), me laying on my back, he introduced his penis in my vagina, moved back and forth more or less five minutes, tightened some seconds while his sex was hoping and all was over. Frustrating, leaving me on the verge of something unknown.

I stopped clubing, sparing money for a dream I had : visit Europe.

                                                            ------------------------------------

In 1974, I went to England and Scotland, scotish people were better welcomers than british ones, by far.

1975, first visit in France, I remained two weeks in Grenoble, treking in the surrounding mountains and appreciating local cuisine, cheeses and wines.

1976, end of July, a Saturday before boarding my Japan Airlines flight to Tokyo on the following monday. the friend I was travelling with met a japanese girl living in Paris. An hour later, two french men joined us : that girl’s boy friend and an older one around 40 (my imagination played trick, he was 28 in fact, but it was mutual as he thought I was 18 or 20, but I was 27). That day, the « old » man arranged some visits in places unknown of tourists and with his comments made the places become alive. By PM 6 :30  we decided it was time to find a restaurant for dinner, again « He » suggested we go to a small place he knew near Place de l’Etoile, good, pleasant and not expensive. I had no time to exclaim, we were already packing in his car ; fifteen minutes later we entered « L’Etoile Verte »

The shop was simple, food delicious and purely french, service friendly, feeling so popular like many like places in Tokyo and the wine was soooo good. For the price, I was again out of myself and I even did not noticed when he paid. On the door step, it was clear that (to my absolute shame again) that I was not able to go on with them. I was not sleepy, not sick, just too inconciently happy. Again, He proposed to drive me to the student lodge where I was in Paris.

I remember a little what happened after : I asked him if he wanted to fuck me ; he said yes but when you will not be drunk ; I started a crying crisis ; « He » slapped my face and led me to the lodge leaving me with a « see you tomorrow morning if you want ».

That is how I met Rope the first time.

                                                            ------------------------------------

The next day,  he knocked at my door around AM 9 :30, I was much better. I opened the door.

« good morning » then I wondered myself, saying : « I am not drunk this morning ! »

He smiled, his eyes connected to mines, « is it why you still are in your night dress ? »

Some seconds gap before I said yes.

I started to undo a first button ; he stopped my move : « I’ll do ! You don’t move ! »

It was crazy for me, feeling back like more than a century ago in Japan, women having to bend… and he was not japanese at all, just speaking the language in a childish way, but saying all what he wanted with short exact phrases. Not forced at all, but I felt I must (that time and the many years following the same)

He stripped me slowly, without averting my anguished gaze. The top first, uncovering my missing breast, then the trousers and panty. He then moved around me to have a look. I was ashames, so ashamed that I tried to hide my almost flat breast and my pubic bush. He smiled again to me and gently but firmly, taking my wrists, forced me to put my hands on my head. Blushing ? I was sure I was turning bright red, his widening smile saying so.

He was turning around me slowly, without comments, just his fingers grazing my skin here and there. I became almost crazy in that situation, wanting it to stop and wanting to feel it more. Him on my back, his hands taking care of my nipples instead of my almost absent breasts : fingers touching,

He was now on my back and I was hearing the sound of him putting his clothes off. Hands back on my chest, his body in contact of his body in particular someting hard on the small of my back. Moving around me, he grasped my pubic hairs and, with a smile, pulled me toward the bed. I was completely taken aback.

On the bed, I sat and had full view on his manshaft and full body. Looking that way, he was « average » on every field but two : his face with his dark blue eyes and his sardonic smile, then his penis, not as long as I thought, but thick, much more than my poor experience allowed me to imagine. I was crazy, I wanted him in me and I had, I was really crazy and I am still crazy.

He pushed me and I laid on my back. He checked with his thumb my private parts, then positioning his penis he started to push, diving inside slowly but surely. Feeling the walls of my vagina pushed apart made me so tense that I could not bring my pleasure to its end. He did not commented, but for sure I was full. He just laid on me, moved one of my legs, turned on his back without withdrawing. I was now riding him impaled on his sex. « Take your time, move as you wish ! »

I had never been in such situation, I started to move adjusting the pose to the most sentitive position.

« Don’t worry, I may last long. Your pleasure first. » All of this said with his unsettling smile. I found a tempo and orientation that aroused me more and more. When he saw it, he raised his hands and started to pinch my nipples, a mix of mild pain and unsure pleasure took control of my chest, then dropped down to my sex, from then each of my up and down move triggered waves of an increasing pleasure until something unknown exploded and I fell on his chest with a growl.

« You had a very nice orgasm, pleasant to see » said he while starting to move himself, « Now it’s my turn ». He was still as thick and rigid as when he invaded my vagina, he had not yet emitted his semen that second time. Echoes of pleasure started to resonate again in my vulva and I had another peak of pleasure when I felt the contraction of his penis spating his sperm in me.

We remained long minutes without moving, what brought me back to life was me saying : « Oh no ! Remain inside. » when I felt his sex, losing strengh and rigidity. He burst in laugh « Don’t you feel it is time to eat something now. Need to refill the batteries » Looking my watch, it was already near to PM 2 :00… so long and I was hungry.

I stood up and walked toward the bathroom when he said « No ! Just put on a skirt and a top. » « But… »

« You don’t need. I say no… and no such granma oldish panty… »

I looked down and took the said clothes out of my luggage.

Some hundreds meters only on the pavement to reach the « Bistrot » near the Sorbonne, I was awfully ashamed, every one around me seeming aware of my nudity and of the juice, his certainly mine also perhaps, drooling from my lower lips. Ashame but I was also strongly feeling my pubic zone tightening and reacting to my lesser moves.

I chose a big french salad with green, cheese, onion and ham, while he ordered two sandwiches each half a baguette : bread-butter-ham-pickles and bread-camembert. How could he swallows such volume ?

His answer was ; «Need to rebuild my  reserves » then he laughed again, « I allow you a « demi » (a small beer) nothing more ». In the meantime, I was blushing, feeling the cold of the stain on my skirt under me, And I blushed much more when my travel friend appeared and came to greet us, I was sure she could see through and knew everything I wanted to keep secret. He was relax joked with her, invited her with us and she said she was going to visit Notre Dame then be ready for tomorrow departure.

On the way back to the lodge, this time I was absolutely sure that the passer-by could see the
stain on my skirt. Arrived in my room, take the skirt off was the first action I rushed to do.

When I faced him again, he was already naked seated on the bed looking at me with interest : « Come here ! ». His sex was hanging, far from the branch of the morning. « Suck it ! Raise me up ! »

I was taken aback : « But I cannot, that is a prostitute’s practice… »

Enormous laugh, followed by : « You are really innocent, if you beleive… oh so wrong. Anyway there is a whore sleeping in every woman. Be my whore, I’ll teach you ! »

I reluctantly knelt between his legs.

« Don’t worry, it’ll be all benefit for you and it is good to learn new things. » He was smiling.

« Start by the balls… Lick ! Lightly ! … Yes, like this… You may use your hand too, you know ? … »

I was not completely in the mood, but I remarked some change in the texture of his balls.

« Now with your tongue, move slowly up the shaft »

The shaft was still flacid but had gained some volume back, the foreskin still covering the head of is tool.

Some minutes later, the glans started to show. « Now take the tip between your lips. Take care with tour teeth ! Move slowly, Use your tongue also. Now up and down… »

I could feel his penis becoming bigger and bigger in my mouth, moves were limited and I had to take it out to breath better.

He laid on his back. « Go on sucking but come on me, I’ll take care of your cunt in the same way. »

He started to lick my private parts and in few minutes, it was so, it was soo, it was soooo, that I plunged again on his sex without thinking anything. I don’t know if what I felt was an orgasm, but i twas so strong. He was still standing in front of my eyes. I heard his voice : «So leaking ! You are a good whore (he used a japanese word much worse than whore or prostitute) »

He moved, I moved too but I remained so moved that I remained lying, waiting for more.

I had so many first times with him that day, I really wanted more.

More ? I had, yes, oh yessss I had!

He made me raise on all fours and without any warning pushed his big sex in mine. I had a sudden flash of pleasure in my vagina, soon away, and back again and again, light when withdrawing, brutal when entering. I was running crazy but he ordered me to rub my clitoris at the same time. One hand on my pearl, him ramming as a machine, I felt face on the blanket, with both my hand taking charge of  My pleasure. That orgasm was much stronger thant the previous, I growled again, I shouted, I cried, I don’t remember (he tells me I did everything at the same time)

I felt incouncious somewhere at that time. I woke up by PM 5 hearing someone knocking at the door.

He was sleeping against my back, with… a finger up my vagina.

He woke up too soon after and said : « I like a lot my little whore »

He was coming In Tokyo one month later, we exchanged addresses and phones. That day was the very beginning of a slippery slope that lasted for years.

Life Starting

Tokyo 1965 July or August – Now (almost to now)

BEFORE

I was with Yooki in the Juntoku Girls School for now some non stop 8 years. A very strict school preparing us to the world in a traditional way. We were not closed in walls, but closed in rules, preparing ourselves for our traditional place in society in every fields.

I finished my studies there, but when I was 16, I met during the school spring closure an american man, much, much taller than me and more than twice my age : a pilot of the USAF, so strong, so handsom that I felt in love with him and I had not to exhaust myself to convince him to make a woman of me. His family was still in Colorado Springs and he was to spend years (excepting his rotating months of release) in Japan. I became his regular girlfriend, at least when I was not at school. I learnt many things with him, but, if I except english language and sex, nothing really useful to survive and live in Japan. But I kept our meetings as total secret as if it was known, I would certainly be expelled from the Juntoku school: an absolute lost face for my mother. The only one with who I needed to share everything was Yooki.

With Yooki, I could exchange everything, there were no leaks at all. I was a « woman » now, but her, she was not yet. I said everything, in the smalest detail, what he did, what I did, what I felt, what I thought, everything ! It was such an event for me that I wanted Yooki to share, I was in love !

Weeks, months, time passing, I started to feel I needed more than his manhood in my vagina, at least something less repetitive than me spreading my thighs to receive the weight of his body on me.

As far as I know men now almost 50 years later, he was completely limited, not by his penis which was of a respectable size, but by his moral and beliefs. I was new at sex and I knew better than him what my body wanted. I loved him but… after days of childish requests, of sulky face, of pleas, my pilot accepted to lay on the bed while I was riding him. In that position he felt unstable, but I was controling my pleasure and his. After that he did not claimed when I took the lead.

My exchanges with Yooki turned to become sexual education at that time. She used it, I am not sure, but only five or six years later. She told me, at that time, how she was deeply disappointed for her « first time », compared to all what I had described.

At the end of high school, I did not entered the university like Yooki did, and started to work in my mother’s small bar where my knowledge of  the english language was appreciated by the foreign clients, a good thing. I met less Yooki only once or twice a week, but I had more time with him when he was not on duty.

But heaven had limits, my man received a new posting first in the US for overall strategic study purpose, then to Europe. He informed me as softly he could, but it was like an earthquake for me.

I was not yet 20 and I thought my life ending.

Of course, my mother was aware of « something », a boy friend maybe, but when the end arrived, I couldn’t hide anything and said all what happened during the last 3 years and half.

The only comment I remind from that time was my mother saying : « You are the only good thing that your father gave me ! »

During the following 12 years, I had no real relations with men. Some quick moves to a bed in some opportunities, but so unsatisfying that I threw them away very quickly. When I say unsatisfying, I mean emotional as well as physical. I was not in love and their sex was smaller than what I was dreaming or they did not used it well in my view. When I had a really strong need, my fingers could supply even imperfectly.

Yooki was now working as accountant in her father’s company; busy but no more than I was with my mother; we had time to meet, talk, and share about fashion, our lives and our loves if we can call as loves our boyfriends of that time.

In 1976, she went touring France for the second time. She met a Frenchman that she thought wrongly much older than her, he was “Rope”, but under his real name and appearance: funny, quick minded, nice and speaking Japanese. Yooki was sure he was already married with two or more children.

She was wrong for the time being; 3 years later they married, had 2 babies, He learnt in 1982 he was the father of a very healthy franco-korean boy born early 1979. Not to speak of my son, later.

Yooki talked a lot about him: his letters, his phone calls; his Japanese language improving month after month. I met him for the first time late july 1978. He was not among the most handsome men, but he had and still has a very strong and fascinating personality impossible to avoid when he looked straight at you while talking with a soft voice. Soft with us, but he was able to talk to crowds without any mike. Everything in him was perplexing, showing a very complex personality with always changing sides moving between extremes. I learnt later that I was wrong; what I was seeing was what he wanted me, Yooki and others to see. The real thing is that Rope moves non-stop forward toward a target, any nuance is purely tactical and what he wants to obtain never changes. What I say here is the result of more than 35 years of relations with him. And I do not mean at all he lacked of love or hate, at the contrary he is full of both! I think the avatar he chose for himself later is perfectly true and representative: a T-Rex.

Until their wedding in September 1979, and after, I communicated a lot with Yooki, really disapproving what I felt to be far away from normal, acceptable, moral relations, but, anyway, I was her witness when they married during 1979 autumn.

Yooki was talking of rope, of pleasurable humiliation, of pain, of sex activities having nothing in common with what I had experienced years ago. I was out of subject for sure and I tried constantly to have her return to more socially acceptable and less risky activities.

In 1980, pushed by my mother and other members of my family, it was my turn and I made an arranged wedding, like more or less 70% of the marriages in Japan at that time. Security is still considered as having more value than love for a woman. I was 32 and single and a heavily pregnant Yooki was my witness.

No problem during our honey moon and the first 4 months, but gradually, he returned to some old habits: work until midnight or later (I could understand, but not happily); bars with colleagues or clients (I hated when he came back home drunk and violent); soapland (I was disgusted when he wanted to have sex with me when he had on him that smell of cheap massage soap). Less than a year later, I exploded and went to meet Yooki and Rope at their home… that changed almost everything in my life.

THEREFORE…

What I had heard about Yooki’s relations with Rope, was nearly revolting for me : I was imagining she had no human value in their mariage. But, she was the only person I could talk with in my distress, Rope was present. Yooki was compassionate and understanding ; He was actively trying to help, but also luring me in what I thought to be a trap. In spite of it, I started to rely more and more on him and was dragged in their whirl. When he proposed the use of the dice, I already put away my critics and opposed no real resistance. My last sign of a possible revolt was when I was so deadly ashamed after the Doctor Hideki came. After that I had no more impulse to fight,

Rope was in contact with a swing club : The Orange People (オレンジイピープル), having a monthly magazine 250 pages thick, and He was eliminating the « too far away from we were », « too swap only like », « too sex only » and « too mild » types. From the selection, we had to discuss, but our choice (Yooki’s and mine) was only taken in account once… and it became an absolute ridiculous failure. After that, we had only the right to comment ; to be true, Rope was almost correct in His choices, His main criterias being : group, bondage, humiliation, pain and sex were not forbidden but not  compulsory and each time « He » fixed the limits, never Yooki nor me.

He was so different from the sadist I was picturing. Of course he was total dominant imposing his will, but also so caring with us. What made me unstable, unsure, were his unpredictable moves. At home or outside it was impossible to relax when he was with us. I learnt to love such a permanent uncertainty.

I was now far from my view of Him making a slave of Yooki. It was this but not only, now very clear because both of us were treated in the same way when I came, I was a slave too in a way but not so slave at all, I loved it and I came as often as I could. In a very short time I had been drowned in their perverted lifestyle and I loved it. Treated with much more care than by my previous husband, but becoming only a thing without transition. Kindness and delicacy, hard control and humiliation, I loved it !

For sure it was not that easy, sometime I was reluctant as Yooki was, but in most of the purposes we nodded and did not regret our sometime pushed acceptance.

In the meantime, I restarted to work, this time in my mother’s coffee shop and moved out from the appartment rented by my ex-husband, sharing my time between my family house and Yooki’s.

Our mutual love is still active in spite of the distance between Japan and France, and my new husband (friend of Rope) and my girlfriend are not hurdles for it.

Kanako

An innocent first strip-tease (part 2)

Continuation

After stripping, posing.
The camera is unsettling, 

Awkward presence, erratic moves, concious of displaying what she learnt not to display.

Now, nipples and the small  arrow of long pubic hairs in view, not easy to relax

But it came with time

and jokes

And ... a stiff whisky... it helped a lot

After that I had to choose to take care of Yooki or to 

take care of the EDIXA.

Strange ther's no more pics after that....

Whers was the photographer?

Hood! My hood first use!

Tokyo 1986/10

During 49 years in pervertion since I started in 1965, I used several times different hoods on different women.

Often unsatisfactory : a jute bag on Laure’s and Lia’s head… they could guess the moves around them ; an old rubber lined worker’s bag with Jacqueline… breathing was a problem ; rubber then leather hoods bought on the market for Yooki,  then for Kanachan and after for some others until I obtained what I had in mind. What I wanted was total sight and hearing sensory deprivation and a locking at the neck impossible to open. It requested some negociations with the makers and designers, It needed some efforts (costly for me) to adjust to my requests, but I have been half angry, half pleased and appreciating when, some months later, Rimba presented on sale a model with my own specifications.

I did not liked when hooded Laure or Lia were aware I was moving around and disliked a lot the eventual asphixation of Jacqueline ; the market products were made to please fantasies, not real needs.  I met, after several calls, a german designer… problem I was bottom in german as he was in French and his english was so basic that expressing nuances and details was more or like talking between aliens. There helped my practice of travelling alone in countries more than foreign : no common language ? a pencil and a small sketchbook, helped a lot. When you don’t know words, drawings can say instead. We reached a satisfiying result in that way, but it took four or five months of exchanges between Japan where we were and  the german designer’s atelier in Dortmünd.

It took time, a lot, but the result was really good : the hood was specially lined  to put some pressure on the eyes instead of the usual blindfolding practice, hears covered by  strong sound reductors, the whole gear being closed with a small chain passing through rings on the back of the head and around the neck where it was padlocked (they provided me the combination padlock for free. A service…)

It was not the almost aesthetic perfection of PD’s designed hood I saw in Insex and in Limbus 15 or 16 years later, but it fullfiled my aims each time I used it from the day I received it.

When the final product arrived, Kanako was re-married, coming lest frequently with her new husband, therefore, Yooki inaugurated the tool, like she did for several others tools

First use : I was very impatient, so impatient that I did not cared about any aesthetic consideration, I fixed the hood on Yooki’s head when she arrived from the school where she drove the kids. She knew I was discussing about it, she had tried blindfolds, but this time she was surprised to be so totally cut from the external world. Only three holes, two at the nose for breath the third at mouth level allowing to pass a straw to sip liquids. This initial test lasted only ten or twelve minutes as I had to go to my office for a meeting.

During that meeting, difficult to focus on professional technical points, with in mind a disturbing mix of business aims and of erotic forecasted images.

The next Saturday, I had arranged with Kanachan and her new husband that they’ll come in the morning and pick the kids out to play with Kanako’s son already 4 year old, with the full assurance (to him) that Kanako’s turn will come soon. There was only one such hood by the way. As soon as they left, Yooki’s day turned to the darkest sideral silent night, hood locked around her neck with a five digits combination I was alone to know. They were due to be back around 7 PM, it left me some nine hours to play relax with Yooki’s nerves, for this first time.

Not a second to lose, the door was barely closed that Yooki was hooded and locked in it. Once locked, she was stripped of her few pieces of clothing. We were in autumn and if not cold, the temperature was not so hot anymore!

In such a situation, there was no need of any rope ; looking at her completely lost was already a huge pleasure. I just took care to put aside all the furnitures she could have hit in her wandering in the room. She could not see my hands reaching her skin for caresses or for pinching ; it made her ran crazy, but  it was only a starter.

From drawer and wardrobe I  took out my rare hitting tools : a cane rarely used, a riding crop almost never used, a paddle used sometime, a home made flog used on feeling basis… a bit more often, plus my hands.

From then, when passing nearby, I used a tool or another without warning leaving seconds, minutes or more between strokes from different instruments. My hands were both heaven and hell, pleased and pleasing in some instances, pleased and hitting in some others. The cane has the disadvantage to require fleshy areas, not good where bones dominate. Same for the paddle. The crop is more diverse in use and that time it was activated quite often. But, my flog had the chance to express itself freely, bringing frantic muffled moans from the hood.

(I had made it myself. It was dear to me. I had found the thick but narrow leather straps in the Tokyu Hands DIY department store near Shibuya station. Sixteen straps knotted at the ends for the flog and four for the handle covered with sticky tape once braided.)

The merit was evidently the mix hood - flog, the face protected and the whole body available, cunt included. Incredible the places the tails can reach while wandering when acted swiftly, but even the flog took its time during those hours. There was no hurry.

Yooki was begging… I was not sure for what, voice was not clear. I decided she was thirsty, filled a mug of water and plugged a straw in the small hole at her mouth position. Was I right ? But I saw the water level sharply lowering. For the next time I poured whisky in the remaining water and came back to her skin. Tools of course, but also a long pleasant pheasant feather she had in her clothing accessories. Is it compulsory to think only pain in such a situation ?

I left her resting some minutes while I went to the bathroom, took a bucket, went to the balcony to put it down for later.

Back to the tools, hands and feather included, nothing regular. Yooki was fluctuating between panic, anguish, pain (more intellectual than real) and pleasure (as real as intellectual as I could check between her legs from time to time). She sipped again with whisky this time, I poured again water and alcool, then added sugar powder and a touch of salt to make her becoming thirsty, she’ll drink again and again during the afternoon.

By 3 or 4 PM,I stopped alternating the tools when I saw her  tightening her thighs mumbling in her hood. I drove her to the balcony, putting in her hand the bucket  and moving back two steps to have a good view without being in the way of an eventual peeping guy if any. Once, twice, the balcony was her queendom. The last time, by 6 PM, I took the bucket away and pulling her hand on her cunt, made her understanding that she had to please herself, now ! So she did and she did not stopped when I unlocked and took off the hood, but she rushed in after giving herself a more than noticeable orgasm and as far as I saw. Not a small one at all.

Almost just on time, Kanako, her husband and our children arrived 20 minutes later. Yooki was nervously exhausted, trying to come back afloat after hours out of world. Only a light interior kimono on, her return to earth was slow, very slow. Only the next day was she in a state of understanding what she felt, what I did, what she did and how she reacted.

The kids were also very tired by their day out, our boy already sleeping  on Kanachan’s lap, Tomoya on her husband’s shoulder and our elder daughter was ready to dive in the arms of Morpheous. Their beds were ready, they were away sleeping within seconds. The Kanako’s family left minutes after, but I agreed with them to talk on the phone Sunday morning.

Half a day later later, the second hood session was set up : Kanako’s turn.

Rope

An innocent first strip-tease (part 1)

January 1979

Will she go ahead or dive back in conventional classic moral relations? I arrived in Tokyo The previous November 78, fought for a living place, not as postal stamp size as it it usual for japanese, but at a price acceptable with my not yet big future salary.

I moved in mid December, found reasonably priced furnitures, had them delivered a sunday afternoon while I was not working: a bed (the one on this pic), a low table (japanese style), another kitchen table european style with four chairs, plus some other things like a large sofa/armchairs set and decorative shelves I installed in the living room.

Yooki came to help, but my luggages were a cantine and a suitcase, not a lot to do. When we left Japan for France 12 years later, We had a 20 cubic metres container, plus her and the kids

That day, when she came, just out from the suitcase, I had my EDIXA camera available. 

"I'll take some pictures of you. OK?"

She agreed, not knowing yet where it will lead.

After some flashes shooting Yooki in her elegant dark blue 
throusers with a perfect purple-ish blouse, I suggested to undo...
like a pro... she started.

It was the start of a not ended story today. 
A never ending story as long as we live. Maybe!

The top first

Then the bottom.

It was a not so difficult start as she did not yet realized that I was really taking photos and she had so many layers on
















At least my lens can focus on some bare skin.
But, hushhh, I try to be an transparent as the surrounding air.

Unfortunately, the camera is noisy, and the flash? What a disturbing monster.

Second layer: an almost virginal (a bit too late but...) very light beige cotton Tshirt.

Under it, the glints of a satin bra, white of course, the type of things our grand-mas weared in europe that was absolutely up to date and fashionable in the late 70's Japan.














Now, it is a difficult moment: take away this antique decoration hiding her lactation tools and her so juvenile look became a challenge.

Full view on the undulating plain, apreciating her wide (forced smile) to the camera lens, if not to me.

At that point, I knew she was ready to go far and that I wanted to have her as wife. (Sorry to say but the "slave" concept was not and still is not part of my mind. 

But, please, reader, understand that if I may give her or any other woman some importance for me, I never accepted the stupid concept that men and women must be equal.

Respect is personal, stupidity is social and legal.

At that point, Yooki's last protection against my camera view is at stake. The pose is protective, the smile is tense, the look uncertain.

Look that panty! See through? If you think so you either dream or need new glasses.

But no importance. What was important was that she dared in spite of the camera clicking and of the lightnings

No cheating, the bush in view (not the BUSH senior or junior that were less than nothing and perfectly unknown at that time)

No a simple pubic bush, symbol of her nudity that day.

But nudity concept changed with time. That's progress.









Again that embarassed smile and her immediate reflexes are to hide her centers of interest, an arm here, a thight there.

She needed to relax, I granted some minutes, but I refused her request to put the EDIXA aside.











Raising hands to heaven was the only mark of her surrender










To be continued

Typhoon

Two days ago (june 9, 2014), we had some of the most impressive thunderstorms I ever seen. It started at night and lasted two hours, two hours of a fabulous sound and light show : so many flash of lightning that the sky was perfectly white, so clear that the public lights seemed ridiculous and useless ; thunder constantly roaring, giving the feeling to be under the fire of thousands of guns and bombers.

It reminded me of that day in 1985, that was no less tremendous.

                                                            ----------------------------------------

Tokyo, October 1985

All TV channels were warning, for the last two days, that a giant typhoon was approaching Japan.

The biggest and strongest they are, the slower they move. Yesterday, the news became sure and alarming : after hiting the Nagoya area, it’ll move north-east, straight to Kanto whith Tokyo at the center, forecasted around 15:00 with winds between 100Km/h to 180Km/h at the strongest (55 miles per hour to 100 mph). The japanese president of the company I worked with decided that we’ll work until midday then go home because such a monster typhoon : around 800 Km in diameter (450 miles) moving at less than 25Km/h, may cause serious damages during the following 48 hours.

At the said time, the company closed and I moved to our manshion. The wind was already moderately blowing.

When I arrived, Yooki had already secured the flower pots inside the flat, leaving the balcony empty and deserted… The children were in their room with the shutters closed… That was not our first nor our last typhoon, we were used to, but it was the first time I was at home because of it.

From the windows and from the balcony of our 4th floor, I could see people rushing in the street to  take cover as quickly as possible… and rain not yet falling ; people were shuting their homes as hermetically as possible… wind was not yet a tempest. I stood for quite a long time on our balcony, enjoying the wind and the growing anguish. Then I was back in the living room, took the ropes from the drawer and…

Yooki was stark naked within seconds, not difficult with only a skirt and a T-Shirt to strip. Within minutes her wrists and ankles were fitted with independent not so tight ropes. When she understood what I had in mind, it was too late, she was on the balcony.

Tied to the balcony guardrail, arms, then legs spreaded to the uprights, she was facing the outside, visible from the main street, from the houses under our building and from two other manshions 300 meters away. Risk there was, but very limited, almost all japanese inhabitants had allready shut himself or herself away and people in the street were much more carefull with the growing wind than what was happening over their direct horizon. But, fortunately Yooki was not in a state to understand such subtleties when panicked as she was and I had to explain. She cooled down, but it gave me another idea.

The real risk was our neighbours, the flat next to ours, just separated between balconies by a sheet of ground glass only ; any move on any side was evident and bending only a little over the rail allowed a full view… and chatting . In fact, I had to put my finger on my lips to have her shutting up when I saw a move on the other side of the glass, but the howling of the wind was covering efficiently her moanings.

Once fixed facing the world, I could leave her alone meditating and go to play a bit with the children : the girl was already 5 and our son was to be 2 in some days. « Papa ! Where is Mama ? » Asked  our daughter. « She’s out now. She’ll certainly be back later when you sleep… »  Then I put a VHS cartridge in the video deck and switched on the TV set. Then went to have a look in the wardrobe, feeling victorious when I found a huge bright orange and yellow Nina Ricci scarf.

Back to the bay window and the view of my wife facing the world and the fury of elements. Outside, it was raining now but the building itself and the balcony at the floor above were still spared. Therefore the puddle on the concrete between her legs and around her right foot was not rain but a loss of control. The rain was now rushing by waves pushed by a wind gaining in force. The noise was covering all sounds from where I was : the TV speakers in the other room as well as the Yooki’s cries outside. The wind will turn, that’s the rule with a typhoon small or big the same.

I opened slightly the sliding bay window and sliped outside just to be assaulted by the demonic gusts of the wind. What will it be when it’ll blow directly toward this side of the building ? I came behind my wife and caressed her back with the tip of my fingers. She looked at me with eyes sheding tears that were immediately flown away by the blow, pleading to be freed. I made the remark that she was having the goose pimples in spite of the hot and damp weather, so I brought a scarf to protect her throat. As soon as said, the  scarf was knoted around her neck, leaving a big fold of cloth flapping in the wind. She understood with a delay : a bright colored flag was moving, perfect to attract the attention of any persons peeping ouside from the relative calm of their residences. I left her struggling with the ropes and returned to the living to prepare the afternoon snack of the kids and insert another VHS in the deck before considering again Yooki’s interesting situation outside.

Between the change of the cartridges, the Tokyo TV channel was informing that the « eye » of the typhoon will pass south of Tokyo over Yokohama and that it’s moving speed was increasing while winds will not reach the previous strengh forecast. Better forecast on one side, but on the balcony, understanding was different : wind had turned and was whipping Yooki with all available rain possible.

She was no more the perfect wife having her hair looking nice in all situations even the worse, but a

witch with trickling down damp hair flaping around. Only regret, the damp scarf remained half sagging, but there was nobody in the street, cars or pedestrians the same ; easy to understand why when I saw tiles from a roof flying horizontally accross the road. Good to be at the 4th floor, 15 meters above  ground level.

Each wave of drops were slashing Yooki’s shin like, perhaps better than a Cat-O-Nine-Tails. She was contracting, relaxing, blocking her moves, all in one or two seconds only. She was so admirable, so beautiful, so heroic that I felt being unfair. I took off my clothes, but before joining her outside, I took some large towels from the wardrobe and spread them on the ground in front of the sliding door opening. Once out, I was grabbed by a wind not really willing to accept me, the shock nearly sent me down and I had to grasp the guardrail and hold it tight to reach my beloved wife. Rain was really whipping, no other word could have been correct and the situation was giving me a hard on, a whipped one, a crazy one.

When I secured my position on her back, holding the metal with one hand, tickling her nipples with the other, she perfectly knew my state of mind, thank to my rigid cock between her buttocks. My free hand tickled down and found a clitoris quite raised, then it could check that she was much, much weter and  much more slippery than expected, near of an unexpected orgasm. My fingers on her bud helped her to reach it and when I introduced my thing  into her, the less I could say is that I was more than welcome.

Rain or not, pain or not the same, she was overboard and me too.

I may last long, but in that case, repeat as much as she wanted was no more human. The real problem was when I untied her from the guardrail, ankles first, but she was able to stand only because of her tied posture, and when I freed one of her wrists, she collapsed on the ground, sitting in the water  accumulated on the balcony, water waiting for space in the drain.

Getting back inside the flat was an olympic performance : wind refusing the limp weed named Yooki to move on, pushing me away when we progressed of 20 cm. More than 20 minutes, until she laid on the towel after I closed the sliding door. She was out of her brain, I was exhausted with again a major hard on. She was laying on the floor without move, with the ropes still around wrists and ankles and the scarf around her neck. I fucked her again quietly this time. Her vagina was still more than welcoming.

She was having such silent and peaceful orgasm as she had frequently and I could have continued quite long if the voice of our daughter did not called me : « Papa ! The movie is finished »

I had to move, leaving Yooki as she was were she was.

A good pervert may be a perfect father. I took care of the kids : bath, diner, sleep. When I returned to the living, my Yooki was deep sleeping on the wet towels. I undid the scarf, the ropes and passing my hand on her skin saw that in some places there were some bruises left. No bath that night and I carried her to bed. End for that day.

Yooki’s absolute worry in Japan has always been saving face and reputation. To be exposed in such a way « in public » had been worse than suffering from weather, even if nobody had seen her.

The following days, she was looking at anyone she crossed in our surrounding, thinking they had been delighted by her exhibition. Then she cooled down.

Nobody ? Ten days later, she found in our mail box a large envelope. No address, no sender, just someone put it in the box. It contained half a dozen of poor quality telephotographies without doubt about the central thema on the glossy paper.

Loved it !

Rope

14 years later, when I saw the last sequence of Pigfarm (Insex posted on March 1, 2003), my memory and Yooki’s surfaced like crazy. Most of what we felt during the typhoon surfaced.

Then several years later, someone explained that lightning hit the Farm at that moment. We understood so well. It was it !

(If you don’t know go to see for

Pigfarm posted on 03/01/2003

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