by Mark Andrews
Title Page
THE
JAPANESE MASTER
By Mark Andrews
Kinks Books is an imprint
of W&H Publishing LLP.
Publisher Information
This eBook edition published by Kink Books is an imprint of W&H Publishing LLP, Foresters Hall, 25-27 Westow Street, London, SE19 3RY.
Digital edition converted and published
by Andrews UK Limited 2012
www.andrewsuk.com
Previously published by The Olympia Press
PO Box 148, Ryde, Isle of Wight, PO33 9BE.
Copyright © Mark Andrews
The right of Mark Andrews to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead and is purely coincidental.
This eBook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by the way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, electronically copied, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent.
Chapter 1
Akira did not live through World War II, having been born in 1967, twenty-two years after it was all over, but he knew all about it. Or at least he knew about it from his father’s point of view. That the Japanese Empire had waged an unprovoked and vicious war on an unsuspecting Pacific Rim he didn’t even consider. And he blamed the West, particularly the Americans, for the war’s loss.
Japan should have won! She deserved to win! That she had lost by use of the unspeakable atomic bomb was an outrage. This was his thinking and any attempt to advance a more rational discussion on the subject left him speechless with rage.
And so, when he came into his substantial inheritance, he decided to continue the war in his own way. He purchased a good size motor yacht, a small ship actually, capable of long-term ocean voyages and then he began his operation ...
By diligent and careful use of the Internet, he built up a string of clients, preferably members of his own race; men of his thinking, some of whom had lived through the war, but also oil-rich Arabs, or prosperous black Africans who hated the West as much as he did, even if for different reasons. These were his customers and they commissioned him to find and train young Americans (and sometimes others of the Caucasian races).
He roved the oceans of the world, seeking out beautiful girls and handsome young men and secretly kidnapped them, enslaved them, modified them to the customer’s order and then trained them by the most horrible methods - which he enjoyed immensely, cowing them and forcing them to submit to his will.
And then he delivered them to an agreed destination, properly trained, docile sex slaves, able and willing to perform with their lithe, beautiful bodies for the pleasure of the most jaded tastes in the world ...
The yacht sailed into Port au Prince and anchored in the yacht basin. After the captain had completed customs formalities, he, the ship’s doctor and Akira went ashore. The Caribbean was a very fertile harvesting ground for beautiful young slaves, especially American ones. Their current commission, from N’dona, the Nigerian multi-millionaire, was for a pair of young Americans, preferably married or possibly affianced but definitely very much attracted to each other.
Captain Toyonari and Dr Kahei were aged thirty-two and thirty respectively. Both, like all the crew of the yacht, were right behind their boss and, also like the rest of the crew, were incredibly athletic. Akira, like many Japanese, had a real thing for physical fitness and punished his own body unmercifully in the gym he had had built into the ship’s former forward hold. Also, like him, their faces were inscrutable or perhaps a better description would be hard, although they were all good-looking.
The trio now went into their recruitment mode.
The order, from one of Nigeria’s wealthiest men, was for a pair of young athletic blonds and Akira smiled as he contemplated the coming engagement. He enjoyed his work immensely and he particularly enjoyed taming blonds ...
Akira booked into the Hotel Royale, a low to medium class accommodation house and immediately began to vet the guests. They always avoided upper-class boys and girls unless the client particularly demanded it for such people were fraught with associated risks. The present commission required no such commitment and so looks and safety were the issues.
The captain’s role was to use his laptop computer, linked to the ship’s master computer by radio, to find out all that was known of the subjects. He was very good at this, having made a hobby of hacking into the most sophisticated networks. The banks were easy meat for him and he had even once penetrated the Pentagon’s system. Just for the hell of it, mind ... With his expertise, he could easily access the FBI and other American databases, the airlines, Immigration records and just about anything else he wanted. It was therefore child’s play for him to instantly build up a profile of the intended victims.
Dr Kahei was not only a competent surgeon; he was also an authority on physical development. Akira could command the high price he got for his merchandise only because his slaves were the epitome of everything that was beautiful in a male or female body and Kahei could develop the right material into such paragons very quickly if they possessed the appropriate attributes to begin with.
Akira looked after their mental conditioning himself. He was not qualified as a psychologist academically, but he was as good in this field as the most highly lettered man alive. He could take a boy or girl, break them down, almost to a gibbering wreck, and then build them up again in a totally new personality - all in a few weeks while Dr Kahei and the crew worked on fining down their bodies to be as good as they could make them.
He locked onto Davey and Jill quite quickly. They were just teenagers, both just nineteen and research quickly discovered they were on their first holiday away from their parents. They hailed from Fort Myers, Florida where they had been sweethearts since grade school. Both were fair with silky golden-blond hair that flopped all over their faces and blue eyes that looked (and were) quite ingenuous.
They were also already athletic. Davey Thomas and Jill Cartwright were both star track athletes and had headed their high school team. Now that they were starting their college careers, both were already showing promise there, too.
Akira decided they were perfect, at least physically, subject only to Kahei’s confirmation that they were fit and had the structure to improve them to the perfection Akira demanded. Toyonari’s further researches confirmed they were from middle class backgrounds; had no ties at all here in Haiti and could easily disappear without a trace.
Their kidnapping was easy. It always is when you know what you are doing. An appreciation of the habits of the victim; a quick jab in the arm at a dark spot; into the van and off. It can all happen inside a minute and no-one the wiser ...
No-one saw the three Japanese men and certainly no-one connected them with the absence of the two young blonds who had shyly booked the double room together. When they came to their senses, it was to find themselves in a secret compartment of the ship, up at the bow in partitions of the starboard chain lockers where even a customs inspection would not have found them without a marine architect armed with the ship’s plans present.
There, up in the bows, with the waves knocking against the hull and the smell of rusty chains all around them, they came to. Both had been hog-tied, their hands manacled behind their backs and then chained to their ankles, also manacled and pulled up behind their buttocks to be attached to their wrist restraints. Their heads were sore and they felt sick and the pummelling of the bows by the
waves didn’t help at all.
Akira left them there in those black hell-holes for twelve hours. This was part of his almost instant conditioning process and when he later went down with Kahei and the very muscular bosun to free them he smiled grimly as the lockers were opened and they were dragged out to stare up in fear at the three men standing over them - as well they might for their futures were not very bright.
Akira nodded to the bosun and he unlocked the two sets of manacles on each of them and then kicked them in the buttocks. “Up!” he barked in his guttural English and the two young Americans struggled to get to their feet, their limbs refusing to obey them at first after being kept in the diabolical hog-tie for so long.
“Where ...” began Davey but Akira cut him short with a massive back-hander across his face.
“Be silent,” he hissed. “Learn quickly - never ever speak unless invited. Fail to learn this lesson quickly and I will have your tongues torn out ...”
The two youngsters stared at their captor uncomprehendingly. Tongues torn out? It couldn’t be. They couldn’t have heard right ... But neither was prepared to take the risk so both decided to remain silent, at least for now.
Akira turned on his heel and led the way out of the forecastle compartment and into the gymnasium. This had been the forward hold of the ship before he had had it converted for his purposes and it also doubled as the slave training and punishment area although a casual inspection would not have revealed this latter role.
They were first stripped - or rather, ordered to. To have forcibly stripped the clothes from their bodies would have been shameful for them; making them do it themselves was much more so.
Jill was first. Akira stood right in front of her. They were evenly matched in height, both being around five feet eight and his black eyes now stared right into her bright blue ones. “Take off your clothes, slut,” he said, slowly and evenly and with a voice that dripped venom.
She stared at him. “Take off ...?”
She stopped in mid sentence. His hand had been lightning fast and her head spun to the right as the back of his hand hit her across the left cheek. “What did I say about speaking, slut?”
The bosun had quickly armed him with a pair of pliers and as she had opened her mouth in shock at the blow, he had gripped her tongue and pulled it right out of her mouth, as if about to yank it from her body. Davey started to go to her aid but the bosun was too quick, gave him another blow to his head and then held him in an iron grip.
As he held her head fast and made as if to pull her tongue right out of her mouth, Akira grated his words. “This is your last warning, slut. Another word and out it comes ...”
He gave another yank but then relented and handed the pliers back to the bosun who continued to hold the boy tightly.
“Well?” their captor went on in the same grating tones, “are you going to strip or do I pull your boyfriend’s tongue from his mouth?”
Jill’s face, still in shock at the events of the last few minutes, now blushed a deep pink. She wasn’t exactly a prude but even Davey had only seen her fully naked twice, when they had climbed into the double bed at the hotel the last two nights. But there was nothing for it. This horrible man quite definitely meant what he said. She was sure of that and for her handsome Davey to lose his tongue because she was too modest to undress was unthinkable.
And so she began to unbutton the shirt she wore tucked into the jeans they both wore habitually. Under it she wore a bra but no singlet and so now she began to undo the belt and buttons on her jeans, her face an even brighter shade of pink. Oh how Davey struggled to get free so he could go to her aid but he knew, deep down that it was useless. The bosun, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and nothing else, had a musculature that was clearly very powerful and that was borne out by the fact that his struggles to get free were utterly useless. And if he couldn’t get free from the handsome but quite implacable bosun, there was little point in continuing with his struggles.
He felt utterly emasculated, though. Powerless to help his girl who looked so dreadful as she stepped out of her jeans, avoiding his eyes, partly in her own shame and partly because she didn’t want him to try anything else.
She now stood up in just her bra and panties. These were both very brief since she really had no need of anything to contain her firm, upstanding breasts and she secretly liked the idea of wearing the thong - about the briefest of panties on the market. She would never have worn them at home; her mother would have been appalled, but now she and Davey were alone on their adventure, it had been almost an escapade to have put it on.
Akira gestured to her bra. “Strip it off, slut. Show us your breasts ...” He glanced at her boyfriend and smiled sourly. “Surely you can’t be modest ... after all, you aren’t married to him and yet you went to bed with him, didn’t you?”
Her blush deepened. It had been an adventure, this foray into the Caribbean. Their parents hadn’t been all that inclined towards it but they had both insisted and had made love together for the first time with very real joy, even if it was tinged with the excitement of guilt.
She reached behind her back, her face now a deep crimson, and unclipped her bra, letting it fall to her feet to join her other clothes there. That left her with only the thong. It really was almost useless as a garment. It had an ultra-thin strap that went around her hips, very low down, just above the top of her vaginal slit. From the front of this a thin strip of gossamer silk, almost transparent, went down over the centre of her pubic mound (but didn’t cover it entirely) and ended in another of the straps that went up between her buttocks to join the other strap where the crack in her buttocks ended. The silk was three inches wide where it was attached to the strap and then narrowed to nothing at the base of her vagina.
She shouldn’t have been modest about retaining it for it hid almost nothing, but she was. Akira knew it, of course. He was a master psychologist and he was well aware that removing this last tiny piece of nothing, even more than her bra, would shame her totally. He wanted to let that moment drag on and so stood there, eyeing her inscrutably (as were the doctor and bosun), aware that her shame was building as she contemplated the last act of her forced denuding at his hands.
But then he appeared to change his mind and turned to the boy. “And now it’s your turn, scum ... Let’s see your body, too ...”
The bosun released Davey and he stood there uncertainly for a few seconds while he thought about refusing, but being a sensible lad, he too began to unbutton his shirt and pulled it off to reveal a torso that was already a girl’s dream: broad muscular shoulders, slim waist, ridged belly, powerful shapely thighs ...
His jeans were next after he had kicked off the sandals and now the pair of them stood up in just their underwear. Davey’s briefs were almost as miniscule as his girlfriend’s - and for the same reasons. It was really just a pouch which contained his cock and balls, leaving his buttocks totally naked. He got a distinct thrill out of wearing such a tiny garment, aware that Jill knew that even his genitals were only partially covered by it ...
Again Akira waited. Beside him, the doctor and bosun stood, both looking lecherously now at the pair of young bodies. Akira himself kept his face deadpan but he had suggested to his companions that they show a sexual interest in the bodies of their victims at this stage and this pair of beauties reacted predictably, she crossing her right knee over her left to try and hide her sex while her arms went up to cover her lovely breasts. Davey covered his partially exposed cock and balls with his hands. Both of them were beetroot now, the blush coming right down to their necks.
He left them there, cowering in shame and humiliation for another five minutes but then gave the order: “Right. Enough buggering about ... Get those things off - NOW!” and when they still hesitated, he leapt forward, accompanied by the bosun and gave the pair of them another couple of hard slaps to their faces, first o
ne way and then the other.
The both gave a cry of shame and terror and quickly pushed the flimsy garments down off their hips and legs, then stepped out of them.
“Right, hands up behind heads and start walking, round the room, until I say you may stop ...”
This ensured their genitals were totally exposed and Akira smiled grimly as he noted she had shaved her vagina so that the thong didn’t reveal her pubic bush. He would be ensuring it didn’t regrow and the boy would also be depilated. This was part of the service he provided for his clients and N’dona, who had commissioned this pair, was one of those who liked his slaves totally nude.
He left them walking around the room for a few minutes, noting their already fine musculatures and fine skin but then he summonsed the girl over to him. “Stand there, slut. Keep your hands up behind your head and spread your legs. I wish to see your sluttish cunt in all its naked filth.”
He used these so crude words on purpose. Anything to shame and humiliate the pair of youngsters. Break down their defences while working their bodies ...
Now he prowled around her while the bosun strode along immediately behind the boy, ensuring he didn’t cease his walk around the gym. Of course Davey felt terrible. He was ashamed of his inability to come to Jill’s rescue and to carry her off from this horrible man but he knew any show of bravado would certainly result in worse things to come for both of them.
Dr Kahei now stepped up to the girl and ran his stethoscope over her body as well as checking her with his fingers and hands. His examination was quite professional but Akira’s wasn’t.
The Slavemaster moved up to her as Kahei backed away, nodding her fitness to his boss. Akira now reached out and fondled her breasts, doing so in as libidinous and intrusive a manner as he could manage. Davey saw it and made as if to run over to her. The bosun reacted swiftly, jamming the sharp tines of an electronic prodder into his left and then his right buttock, shocking both horribly and then, as Davey arched backwards, gripping his now throbbing backside with his hands, did it again, but this time into his balls.