by India Millar
And before I had even realized it had happened, my body responded to his caresses and I relaxed. I could feel the smoothness of his torso pressing on my chest and belly, his fingers tracing the outline of my breast. And above all, feel the hardness of his tree pushing against my black moss.
And I was wet. Not just wet, but slippery with my own juices. When I expected a client, I always took great care to smooth my sex with plenty of camellia oil after the bath. If I didn’t, then I was as dry as old rope. It didn’t hurt me, of course, but all the patrons loved to believe they had aroused us geisha by their efforts. We all did it. In fact, it was far more important for the other geisha than it was for me, as their dryness would have caused them huge pain.
I found I was crying. Silently. Fat tears were oozing down my cheeks. I licked them away, tasting the salt on my tongue. I saw Ken lift his head and look at me questioningly, and I could do nothing but shake my head, sending the tears flying. He smiled at me so very tenderly. I knew he understood and cried even more because of it.
Then he had slid his tree back until it was nuzzling the entrance to my sex and I thrust up to him, encouraging him back inside me. He seemed to hesitate for a second, and I nearly screamed with frustration until I realized he was teasing me. Laughing at me. I bit his shoulder in reprisal, and he jerked forward, thrusting into me with his full length.
Since he had brought me to the hidden room, I had dreaded this moment. My thoughts had been so full of what if. What if I couldn’t respond? What if Ken didn’t find me arousing? What if I thought of him as just another patron and he thought of me as a piece of meat to be taken at will? So very full of doubt and fear was I that I had had no time for anticipation. For hope.
But in a moment, all the uncertainty and worry had gone. I found my rhythm with him instantly, and I melted under his touch. Ken’s head was raised and he was staring at me intently. Watching me, waiting for my every signal. I knew my mouth was opening and closing like a koi carp, but I had no words. My whole body was consuming him, every sense alert. I could smell and feel and hear, all as if for the very first time.
As he plunged, I rose to meet him. As he retreated, I anticipated his next movement. I dug my nails into his back, trying to force another fraction of him inside me and I heard him grunt, with pain or pleasure or both, I had no idea. He began to speed up, sliding in and out of my sex, almost popping out of me before he slid back in. I tightened my muscles hard, determined not to lose him for the smallest space of time.
My own body shocked me. I rocked with Ken’s movement and suddenly became aware of a growing fire in my belly. The sensation was so delicious and so unexpected that I paused for a moment with my mouth wide open. I wanted to stop, to let Ken slide out of me so I could prolong this delight, but he was having none of it. Instead, he thrust harder and harder, and I found that in response the delightful feeling intensified. It was like riding the crest of a gigantic wave. My body was out of my control, and there was no way back. I could not stop the wave crashing down, nor did I want to. The wave blossomed and took hold and spread from my belly to my sex until it consumed me entirely and I was gasping and shuddering with total joy.
Poor Ken was forgotten. I knew he was there, but for the first time in my life my own pleasure mattered more than the man I was pleasuring. The feeling ebbed slowly, leaving me so satisfied I was limp with content. It took me a while to realize that Ken also had slowed, and I barely felt it when he rolled to my side, his arm flung over my ribs.
“Did I please you, Mineko?” he panted.
I smiled into his face, wondering how to put into words what he had just done for me. “Yes,” I said simply. “Oh yes.”
“I am happy then.”
I could have cried again with sheer joy. This beautiful man was happy that he had given me pleasure? He turned and kissed me gently, then sat up and reached for his robe.
“We must go,” he said. He saw the disappointment on my face and smiled. “There will be many more times, Mineko-chan. But not if we tempt fate any longer. Akira isn’t here, but Auntie may be back soon. I will go first. Give me the count of twenty and then follow. Close the door; it will lock itself.”
I nodded and watched him go, silent as a graceful ghost. I sat on the tatami with my knees under my chin, wondering. I had trusted Ken with my body and my soul. If Akira found out, then I would pay for that trust with my life. I knew that. I thought about it, then decided that it would be worth it.
At least I would be able to say that I had felt something for the first time in my whole life.
9
The tree outside my
Window grows slowly. Why does
My life change so fast?
I found it difficult to believe that the other geisha didn’t notice any change in me, didn’t see that my eyes sparkled, that I laughed more. That my whole body moved more fluidly, as if it anticipated pleasure. I thought about Ken constantly. Remembered his voice, the feel of his skin. I felt him inside me and shuddered with delight. But it seemed the change was one I kept to myself, as none of the girls seemed to see anything different.
It was just as well. I longed to talk about Ken, to introduce his name into conservation casually, but dared not since I knew I could no longer speak of him with fear. He was no longer the new Big. Now, he was my lover. He had changed. I had changed. But the other geisha had not, and I could not say anything. Not just because I worried about myself, but also because I was concerned for them. They would have been amazed, I knew that. But they would also have been delighted for me and would have been happy to spend endless hours discussing my affair. Closeted from the world as we were in the Hidden House, any gossip was dissected and discussed endlessly. Such news would have kept the girls happy for weeks! But Auntie had eyes and ears everywhere. Something as juicy as my affair would have, eventually, gotten back to her. And as soon as Auntie knew, then Akira would know. When that happened, then all of the girls would be punished simply because they had not passed on my secrets.
The thought of their pain stopped my tongue.
And in any event, there was suddenly a flood of change in our lives. Change that left us all gasping.
Sute noticed it first.
We were lolling around, dozing in the late afternoon time. Time we had to ourselves as the doors were not open to patrons yet. The mid-day meal had been eaten but it wasn’t time to ask the maid to prepare tea for us. We were all silent, relishing the chance to relax. But not Sute. She had been fidgeting about, pulling faces to herself. Suddenly, she chirped up.
“Have you noticed the gaijin don’t come as much now?”
We all stared at her lazily.
Masaki shrugged. “Of course they do. Akira had a party of them in not long ago.”
“That was early last week,” Sute persisted. “Ten days ago. When I first came to the Hidden House.” We all smiled. How long had Sute been amongst us? Three months? Four at the most. She seemed not to notice our amusement and carried on cheerfully. “There were gaijin here nearly every other day. Akira-san was forever having meetings with them or entertaining them here.”
We all stared at her and she beamed, basking in the attention like the child she was at heart. The twins exchanged glances, and I counted on my fingers.
“Do you know,” Naruko said slowly, “she’s right. It is ten days since they were here last. And I think it must have been over a week before that. How strange. Sute, have any of your patrons said anything about the gaijin? You always get the ones who do most business with them.”
Sute thought about it, and then shook her head. “I don’t think so. If their trade was going down, I’m sure they would have taken it out on me. But they haven’t. I’m getting the same presents I usually do. It’s odd, really, but I always seem to get the best presents from the ones who just want to make golden showers on me.” She giggled happily.
I wondered for a moment exactly how much little Sute was managing to stash away in presents, and then I smiled
with her, thinking—not for the first time!—how odd our patrons could be. Virtually all the girls had their share of the ones who didn’t even want to touch them. Some of the older patrons, in particular, seemed to prefer to want to just make golden showers, either peeing on us, or—if they could manage it—inside our black moss. The twins had said that several of their patrons simply wanted them to grovel naked on the tatami in front of them while the man strutted around them fully dressed, like a proud cockerel inspecting his hens. Some of them gave the twins a prod with their feet occasionally, but others didn’t even bother doing that. Naruko said that one of her patrons wanted to do nothing but watch her touch herself, and that it took no more than a minute or two of him watching her for him to burst his fruit without her so much as laying a finger on him in return.
Poor Masaki glowered whenever the conversation went in that direction.
“It’s all right for you lot,” she huffed. “I always get the great big men. You know I do.” And that was true enough. She even numbered several gigantic sumo wrestlers amongst her most devoted patrons. “And every one of them treats me as if I was made of wax and might break if they’re not careful. I barely know they’ve been near me more often than not.”
We tried to look sympathetic, but it was difficult. I pointed out that I had the opposite problem, but Masaki was having none of it.
“I wouldn’t mind if one of them did give me a slap now and then. At least I’d feel something.” She pouted. “And let’s face it, Mineko, they can’t hurt you, can they?”
I shrugged apologetically. A few days before and I would have rounded on Masaki, pointing out that I might feel no pain, but neither did I ever feel any pleasure. For all Masaki’s grouching, we all knew that Masaki and Naruko found the delight in each other that they didn’t feel with their patrons. Now, I lowered my face and hoped that nobody noticed my cheeks were flaring. They might have done—my fellow geisha noticed everything—if we hadn’t been interrupted.
Bigger flung the screen door wide, and lolled in the entrance, grinning at us. We bowed our heads to him automatically, murmuring polite greetings. And worrying.
“Well, geisha,” Bigger sneered. “Just look at you all. Naked faces all round, and not a wig between you. Not even a decent kimono in sight. Well, I just hope your visitor isn’t going to be too disappointed!”
Our mouths formed a ring of neat Os. A visitor? At this hour of the day? Without warning? Unthinkable! We were all about to scramble to our feet in a rush to grab wigs and at the very least slide into our kimonos and obis when Bigger stood to one side and bowed deeply.
And then Mori-san was in the room amongst us, bowing and smiling shyly.
Our confusion may have been reflected in the warmth of our welcome.
We all kowtowed as deeply as we could, murmuring greetings and apologies for our disarray and smiling at Kiku’s husband as if he had made our day by honoring us with his presence. I called to the maid to bring us tea and watched Bigger from beneath my eyelashes. Although his face showed only mild amusement, I could see his eyes were burning with curiosity. I think all the girls shared my delight when Mori-san turned to him and dismissed him with a casual wave of his hand.
With Bigger gone, we relaxed. We moved forward together, tugging Mori-san into the center of the matting and fussing around him until he was seated and comfortable. Clearly he loved the attention; even his ears turned bright red with pleasure. He placed a brightly colored furoshiki on the tatami and unwrapped it with a flourish. Packs of bean paste jam from the best seller in Edo slithered out and he gestured to them casually, as if they were nothing much at all.
“One for each of you geisha, and a couple for the maids to share.” We murmured out thanks, our eyes large with greed. “Help yourselves.”
The maid bought our tea at that moment, and I sent her running back to the kitchen for bamboo sticks for us to eat the bean paste with and a couple of flasks of warm sake for Mori-san. Once we were all settled with tea, and trying not to stuff the delicious treat into our mouths too greedily, I found my manners.
“It is wonderful to see you, Mori-san.” The girls murmured their agreement through full mouths. “I hope all is well with Kiku-chan?”
His grin nearly split his face. I noticed his sake cup had been emptied in a couple of sips and refilled it quickly for him.
“My wife is well. Very well. As is my son.”
It took a moment for the words to register, and then we all gave cries of delight. Kiku’s baby had arrived! I remembered she had wanted a daughter and smiled to myself. Even Kiku, it seemed, couldn’t move fate.
“We have named him Ichiro.” We all smiled. Of course. What else? First son. Mori-san was no doubt hoping the child would be the first of many. “He is a beautiful child, and already shows signs of being very strong.” Mori-san paused and inspected his sake cup. “Kiku-chan is, of course, delighted with him. She, I mean we, wondered if any of you might like to come and visit us? See Kiku and my son?”
We were all unforgivably, rudely silent. Of course, we would all love to go to see Kiku. And we knew without being told that the request had come from her, and that no other man in the whole of Edo would ever have tolerated the very idea of inviting a geisha—especially one from the Hidden House—to his home for a social visit. No man would, unless it was for purposes of his own pleasure. Equally, we knew that neither Auntie nor Akira would ever let us go. The girls kept their eyes downcast, but I felt their gaze swiveling toward me. I took a deep breath.
“We are honored, Mori-san. Deeply honored.” I meant it. “But before we could think of accepting your very kind invitation, we must ask Auntie if it is possible.”
I paused, wondering whether to add to my words. But Mori-san was nodding, his face happy. It didn’t take a mind reader to understand. He had done his duty by Kiku. He had asked. If Auntie wouldn’t let one of her precious geisha out unless it were to see a client, there was nothing he could do about it. Kiku would understand.
He left soon after, and we geisha sat and ate the remains of our bean paste jam in silence.
“I would like to see Kiku’s baby,” Sute chirped up. “I like babies.”
Naruko pulled a face at her. “You didn’t even know Kiku,” she pointed out.
Sute shrugged. “I know, but wouldn’t it be nice to go outside the Hidden House?”
We all sighed. Wouldn’t it just? I had gone outside, often, when I was a maid. I ran errands for Auntie and the geisha constantly. I had even been allowed to escort Midori to the kabuki when she had an appointment with Danjuro. But since I had become a geisha, I never left the house. Masaki had gone out once, when she had been taken to the home of a wealthy noble. But she had been escorted by Big, hustled into a closed carriage and taken straight into the house at her destination. She had said later that she might as well have spent the night in her own room for the amount she actually saw of Edo.
Generally, we geisha didn’t worry ourselves too much about what was going on in the outside world. We knew we couldn’t go freely outside the Hidden House, so there was no point in teasing ourselves. In any event, why should we bother? We were well fed and warm in the Hidden House. Our welfare was looked after by Auntie. We heard all the latest gossip from our clients. And we all knew that even if we were respectable married women, we would have had little more freedom than we already had. We might have been allowed out a bit more—always accompanied by a maid, of course—but we would still have been at the mercy of our husband’s whims. But now, Mori-san had sowed the seeds of discontent. We all longed to see Kiku and coo over her baby. Truth to tell, we all longed just to get out of the Hidden House.
“You ask Auntie, Mineko,” Masaki said. “She won’t let us all go, but she might let just one of us visit Kiku.”
I was the center of a ring of hungry faces. I wanted to protest, to ask why me. But I didn’t bother. It had to be me, of course. If Auntie was in a bad mood and lashed out with her cane, I was the only one who wou
ldn’t mind. I sighed.
“I’ll go to see her now,” I said before I could change my mind. “But I don’t suppose she’ll allow it.”
I tapped on Auntie’s door frame and almost turned and ran when Akira’s voice answered. Then I thought of the other geisha’s longing faces and gathered up my courage.
“Mineko-chan! How lovely. Has Mori-san gone already?”
Typical of Akira. He not only knew everything that was going on in the Hidden House, but he made sure that we geisha understood that as well. I had a moment’s panic when I was sure he must also know about Ken and me, but I pushed it away quickly in case my guilt showed on my face. I bowed deeply and spoke with my head lowered.
“Mori-san came to tell us that Kiku has had a baby boy.” As if he didn’t know! But still, there was a game to be played. And if one of us got the chance to visit Kiku, it would be worth it.
“So she did.” Akira clicked his fingers in mock astonishment. “I had quite forgotten, otherwise I would have told you myself.”
“Akira-san is very kind,” I muttered to the floor.
“And so what brings you to see Auntie, Mineko?”
I paused, trying to find a suitably humble way to frame my request. I needn’t have bothered. Auntie, of course, must have been listening all the time Mori-san was with us.
“Mori-san has invited them all to go see Kiku and her son,” she said. “Nonsense, of course. As if I’m going to have my girls loose all over the Floating World. It’s not safe for them out there.”
I hid a wry smile as I remembered Midori’s astonished terror the first time we had gone to the kabuki to see Danjuro. Midori had been born and brought up in the Hidden House. Her mother was a geisha in Auntie’s Green Tea House who had eloped with her gaijin lover the same day that she had given birth to Midori. It was only shortly before she herself ran away with Danjuro that Midori learned the truth, that her mother had always intended to come back for her. But Auntie had told Midori that the streets outside the Hidden House were dangerous for a freak like her. That the people of Edo would think she was bad luck and would revile her. Hurt her if they could. It was all nonsense, of course. Just a tale that Auntie spun to keep us all tied to her.