The Geisha with the Green Eyes

by India Millar

  So I folded my lips around his sad little organ and nibbled at it with my teeth. Abruptly, I stopped nibbling and bit, quite hard. I do not remember consciously thinking that I would do it, so perhaps instinct took over.

  I immediately feared I had made a bad mistake. I braced myself, expecting at the very least a hard slap or even a punch from my danna. Instead, he inhaled sharply and suddenly his tree of flesh was no longer a wilting sapling, ready to be blown away by any stray breeze, but a vigorous, hard pine of a tree. He thrust it hard into my mouth and almost down my throat, nearly cutting off my breath.

  I couldn’t even bite the disgusting thing. It filled my mouth and left no room for me to do anything. I could feel it brushing the back of my throat and I retched, worried anew that I might not be able to prevent myself from vomiting.

  So I did the only thing I could, under the circumstances. I sucked that horrible old tree of flesh. Sucked it as if my very life depended on it, which was not far from the truth. I could hear Teruki-san moaning, even over the drumming of blood in my ears. He began to thrust his hips forward and I thought, please, no! I thought his fruit was about to burst. In my mouth.

  I moaned in my turn at the thought, and perhaps the god who had heard me earlier took pity on me yet again, as Teruki-san suddenly fastened his hand in my hair and pulled me up. He did it so unexpectedly that I was unable to give his tree of flesh a parting nip. I regretted that, but it was very much secondary to the relief of being able to breathe again.

  He was leaning back on his elbows, panting. I pushed the hair out of my eyes and fastened my gaze, modestly, as was proper, on the mat. For an instant, I had a surge of hope. Was that it? Was my danna satisfied? He was, after all, a very old man. Perhaps he was not capable of more? Hard on the heels of the thought came another; if that really was the case, then I would have to go through this all over again, with another danna. I reached out hurriedly to his tree, worried it would shrink without my attentions.

  I had no need to worry.

  Teruki-san allowed me to grasp his tree. I gripped it with my fingers and moved my hand back and forth, no doubt clumsily. He paused, silent, for a moment or two and then wrapped his hand around my fingers, clenching my grip on him. He grunted. I took this to be approval and worked a bit quicker.

  After what seemed like hours, Teruki-san slapped my hand bruskly. I stared at him hopefully, waiting for some sort of signal. Faster? Slower? Let go? Harder? He spoke harshly.

  “Enough. On your hands and knees, woman.”

  I did as he asked – or rather commanded. In any event, anything, anything at all that would bring my mizuage to an end was welcomed. My hair swung across my face, and I was glad of that, as it meant I did not even have to try to look happy.

  I heard Teruki-san scrambling to his feet, and then he was behind me, squatting on the mat. For one horrible instant, I was sure he was going to ram himself into my behind, to “split the melon.” He did finger my bottom, running his fingers up and down the cleft and pushed an enquiring finger into my anus. I bared my teeth so hard that the tendons of my neck hurt. But no, he made his mind up and next second his tree of flesh was exploring the entrance to my sex.

  I was rigid with fear and anticipation. My private parts were as dry as an old, sun-weathered canvas with terror. I could hear him muttering to himself as he tried to thrust into me, but I was so tense and dry that he could make no progress. He sat back. I had no idea what he was about to do, even what he was thinking. I was trembling so hard I could barely keep my balance. My mind was blank, apart from one thought, one thought that repeated over and over again, like a never-ending circle: this old man, this horrible, wrinkled old man, with his yellow flesh and bald head and long fingernails, was going to put himself inside me. I had no say in the matter. None at all. I was nothing. Less than nothing. He had paid to do this to me.

  Teruki-san suddenly got tired of playing the waiting game. I felt him move away from me, and tears of relief came to my eyes. He couldn’t manage it. I would have to go through this again, undoubtedly. Even more certainly, Auntie would be furious with me. But perhaps – just perhaps – when she found me another danna, he might be a younger man? A man who did not make me feel sick at the thought of having him inside me? I had raised my head, about to apologize to Teruki-san, when he hit me.

  He hit me hard, just at the base of my skull, at the point where the head meets the neck. He must have used his clenched fist. In spite of the fact that he was an old man, he still had a sinewy strength to his arms, and the blow felt like a rock thrown with deadly accuracy. It was not quite hard enough to knock me unconscious – more the pity! – but it was hard enough to make my vision spin. Suddenly, my world was filled with pain and I lost my balance, falling forward onto my elbows. With the strange clarity of pain, I could hear Teruki-san grunting with satisfaction. He placed his hands on each side of my hips and lugged my bottom into the air. When I was positioned to his final satisfaction, he simply leaned into me, pushing his tree of flesh into my dryness.

  I shrieked out loud at the pain, which was much worse than the pain in my head. Teruki-san seemed to take it as encouragement. He leaned back, almost withdrawing from me, and then thrust down again hard, hard, hard. I tried to hold my breath, hoping that I would pass out from lack of air, but my body wouldn’t obey me and after a minute or so I found myself panting for breath, whether I wanted to or not.

  I could do nothing. The more I shouted in pain, the more Teruki-san’s vigor seemed to increase. I thought it would never end, that I would live in pain and indignity and shame for the rest of my life, which I prayed would end quickly.

  I was almost at the stage of fainting with pain and horror when he finally burst his fruit. At least, I assumed that that was what had happened. All I knew was that he slowed and finally stopped, sliding out of me and falling back on the matting.

  I could not move. I stayed where I was, my head touching the matting, my bottom pointing toward the ceiling. Teruki-san finally rose. He gave my bottom a playful slap and I could hear him moving about. Then the screen door opened and closed. A moment later there was the faintest of rustles from the other room. Auntie, taking herself off to her own futon, satisfied that all had gone well. Eventually I persuaded my unwilling bones to move and crawled beneath the bedding. Slowly, like a very, very old woman.

  I hurt. Everywhere. My skin shuddered with the memory of his touch. I would dearly have liked to have gone to the bath, to cleanse my private parts and wash away his seed, but I dared not leave the room. My danna had bought me for the whole of the night. Although it was unlikely that he would return, if he came back I had to be here for him. Ready and waiting. And willing. At least I was spared the worry of becoming pregnant by him. We girls were too precious to risk that. Tomorrow, Auntie would give me special tea that would kill his seed.

  Yet until morning, I would be left where I was. Undisturbed. I cried, alone and without comfort, until sleep finally claimed me. I then dreamed of Teruki-san shoving his tree of flesh into me. Over and over again.

  The morning bought no relief. I heard the little maid come in, heard her bustling about the room. Smelled the charcoal burner as she made tea. Heard her calling a cheerful good morning to me.

  I couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t so much as open my eyes. I tried so very hard, but the more I tried, the more impossible it was. Eventually, the maid crouched by my side – I heard her knees crack, quite distinctly – and I felt her touch my face and then pull the bedding back. But still I could not move. I could tell from her movements that she was leaning across me, putting her ear to my mouth – probably to see if I was actually breathing – but still I could not move. Could not make a sound.

  It was terrible. I felt as if I had been buried alive. Then the thought came to me that perhaps I was dead, that this was my karma. That I was fated to be like this, perhaps forever. Alive yet dead. Feeling nothing, but hearing everything. Perhaps even more dreadful, I could not even move e
nough muscles to cry at the thought.

  The maid had scurried off, but returned quickly. I knew from the rhythm of the footsteps that she had returned with Auntie. As the maid had done, Auntie leaned across and I felt her breath on my face. She immediately shouted orders and within a few seconds there were more people in the room. I was lifted to my feet and dragged out, supported by many hands. My head lolled on my neck; I lacked the ability to lift it up.

  “Throw her in.”

  Auntie gave the order briskly, and all at once I was lifted and found myself flying through thin air.

  The bath water was very hot. The splash as I hit the water hurt, then I was sinking to the bottom of the sulfurous pool. I inhaled water, and the shock restored life to my petrified limbs. I thrashed out, rising to the surface and then falling back. I gulped more scalding water, and it seemed to me that the water revived me from the inside out. I opened my eyes and managed to stagger to my feet.

  Auntie, Kiku, Carpi, Naruko and three of the maids ringed the bath, all staring down at me as I sputtered and fought for balance. Auntie and Carpi exchanged a glance and then Auntie clapped her hands, dismissing the other girls. When they had gone, she leaned over the bath and peered down at me.

  “Midori. Do you hear me now?”

  I nodded.

  “Then listen, and listen well. You are no different from any of the other girls here. I will not stand for this sort of dramatic nonsense. If you try to play your silly tricks once more, then I will let the boys play with you. Do you understand?”

  I stood in the bath, stark naked, bewildered, in pain, yet I nodded.

  “Yes, Auntie,” I said, quietly enough. But something in my tone must have been wrong because Auntie frowned and glared at me before deciding that she had imagined it and turned away.

  Once she was gone, I scrubbed myself until my skin burned. I still could not get rid of Teruki-san.

  Just as I could never wash away all the others that followed him.

  Chapter Two

  The sun shines somewhere.

  But I do not see.

  I am bereft.

  So there I was. Thirteen years old and soon to be no longer an innocent. Soon, I would be not a maiko, but a geisha. The same as every other geisha who inhabited the Green Tea House and the rest of the Floating World.

  And I would be even more deeply in debt to my Auntie than I was at present, just like every other geisha. Auntie owned the Green Tea House as well as the Hidden House. She was a rich woman, but no one would ever have known from the way she moaned constantly about the price of everything. Both houses shared a courtyard, but our plain, discreet building could have been a private house. Very few of the Green Tea House’s patrons were even aware that we existed. Both Houses were very expensive, very high-class. But the Green Tea House was open to anybody who had enough money to pay to be entertained by the singing and dancing and wit of the resident geisha. Our clients were not only rich, but had to be introduced by an existing patron. All were carefully vetted by Auntie before they were even allowed through the door. Unlike our sisters in the Green Tea House, we were available only to the selected few who would truly appreciate our unique qualities. Although our duties went far beyond singing and dancing.

  The geisha in the Green Tea House knew about us, of course. We were all geisha, after all. But our lives barely touched. We girls in the Hidden House were different from ordinary geisha. Apart from anything else, we were shielded from the outside world. Even so, it would be impossible to live in the Hidden House for the whole of your life and not understand men and their desires. From the moment that I could first walk and talk, I knew my place in life. Unlike most of the girls, I at least understood why my life was as it was – I was expected to expiate my mother’s sins, as well as all the other sins I had committed in lives I could not remember.

  We all understood that being born women made us lesser beings. Just as we understood that the samurai were allowed to cut down any peasant they chose to test the edge of their swords, we knew and accepted the fact that having the misfortune to be born as female made us inferior to men. We were subservient. At least we were not burakumin - outcasts. Burakumin were an unfortunate caste who did the jobs that nobody else would do. They emptied the night soil into wagons and took it away, worked as butchers of flesh, and did other disgusting things. Their women, of course, were of an even lower state. Compared to women of the burakumin, we were fortunate! As Auntie never tired of telling me, both Naruko and I were especially lucky. Were we not under the protection of Auntie, we would both have been regarded with loathing as foreign Barbarians and would have had no option but to live as burakumin ourselves.

  Because I was so deformed, I thought for a long time that perhaps I would never have a mizuage. Auntie had kept me hidden from the world as much as possible for a very good reason. She had explained to me over and over again that the world outside the Floating World was not for me. That I was so ugly, so disfigured by my mother’s sins and those of my unknown ancestors, that if I ventured into Edo, outside the Floating World, people would turn away from me in disgust. Even the women would be made sick at the sight of me. The men would certainly shout abuse at me or throw things. Even within the Floating World, people would at the very least consider me unlucky and try and drive me away. No, she chose to keep me in the Hidden House for my own good, and I was grateful to her for it.

  By the time of my thirteenth birthday, there were only two of us in the Hidden House who had not had their mizuage – me and Naruko, the Chinese girl. She was a quiet, sweet-natured girl who spoke Japanese with a shockingly bad accent and a strange sing-song rhythm, hence her name – Chirping Child. Both of us being gaijin – foreigners – it was only natural that we should be friends, but we were not. Perhaps our origins were just too different. In any case, close friendships were not encouraged by Auntie. Naruko was nowhere near as ugly as I was and could even be mistaken for Japanese when she had her full makeup in place. Her bound feet were the giveaway, but there was not a lot she could do about them. In fact, Auntie seemed pleased with her feet and told the rest of us that we should try and copy the way Naruko walked, as her hobbled gait made her appear pleasingly subservient, like a horse that has been crippled and could only walk at the whim of its master. I think that she actually meant that Naruko had no chance of getting away from any man who fancied her. Our kimonos meant we could all only take very small, mincing steps anyway, albeit not with the pain that Naruko suffered when she walked.

  I was amazed to learn that I was to have my mizuage before Naruko. Auntie told me arrangements had been made about a week after my birthday, and I was very excited. Innocence is a fine thing, to be sure. As the days went past and nothing more was said, my excitement began to change to intense nervousness. I was not, you understand, exactly looking forward to the event, but it did make me feel – for once! – as if I belonged. As if I was the same as everybody else. All the rest of the girls fussed around me. At that time, there were five of us “special” girls in the Hidden House. Over the years there had been as many as ten and sometimes as few as three. Girls came and went, some remaining longer than others. Some of the lucky ones found a permanent danna very quickly and disappeared to be his mistresses. Others were less favored and lingered with us, sometimes for years. Of course, once a girl got past her prime and into her mid-twenties, she was no longer fresh. No longer able to attract clients very well. Auntie was very generous toward such girls. Other houses would simply have thrown them out to manage as best they could in the Floating World, but our Auntie allowed them to stay, often acting as maids for the younger girls. This in itself was a sort of perversion, an inversion of the natural order of things. In the rest of the Floating World the maids were very young girls who were often maiko in training to be geisha. These older maids were not paid, but did expect to share the tips earned by the geisha.

  Kiku had had her mizuage not long before, and she reassured me.

  “Don’t worry about it,�
�� she advised. “My first one was so much of a nothing that I was actually disappointed. In fact, it hurt more when Auntie examined me afterward and found I was still whole.”

  That didn’t sound so bad, I thought.

  Kiku started to laugh at the memory, and her whole body shook like water when it just begins to congeal into ice. As usual, she was naked, apart from her tabi, which one of the maids had helped her put on because she could never hope to reach her own feet. She wore a kimono and obi only when there were patrons present since even the softest of silk robes rubbed against her folds of fat and made her hot and sore. Now, she slopped on the tatami mat in front of me, looking as wide as she was high. That was how she had gotten her name, as Auntie said she was actually two chrysanthemum flowers, one blossom for her head atop another huge blossom for her body. She leaned forward to reach for a cup of tea and I hurried to pass it to her as I realized she would never be able to bend far enough to grasp it herself.

  She nodded her thanks and drank deeply, draining the cup and graciously allowing me to pass it to one of the hovering maids to replace on the tray of tea things. Today, both of the maids were young girls, both relative newcomers to the Hidden House. Replete, Kiku sat back with her hands laced beneath where her breasts merged seamlessly into her massive belly.

  “And the second one?” I asked timidly.

  “Oh, well. He was better. He took me from behind in the end and managed to get his tree of flesh into me.” She shrugged and her body shuddered in time with the motion. “I was expecting it to hurt, and it did a bit, but not too much. I made sure, of course, that he thought he had pierced me to the core. I gasped a lot and cried out at what I thought was the right bit. He seemed very pleased. After we had finished, he called for food and sake and sat for ages dangling bits of fish and meat from his chopsticks, just out of reach of my mouth. Every time I parted my lips and tried to take anything, he would jerk it away a little and then bring it back and then take it away again. I pouted and sighed as though I was starving and eventually he relented and let me eat. In fact, he didn’t just let me eat, he stuffed me like a pig being fattened for a feast. They nearly all do that,” she added with a sigh. “I do wish they wouldn’t. I like a drink of tea, or sake occasionally, but you know that I don’t eat a lot.”