'You're so wet,' Vivienne whispered in her ear. 'It's you, you're turning me on, all this...' she fingered the bra to indicate what she meant.
Vivienne began to move her cock in and out of Stephanie's liquid cunt. It felt so good, so welcoming. She was turned on too, turned on by this woman's acceptance of her, of what she was. She pummelled faster and harder.
Stephanie raised her head to look down over Vivienne's shoulder and watched her buttocks plunging in and out between Stephanie's thighs. She could see the white suspenders and stockings pulled taut, she could feel the silky teddy against her, she could smell the perfume Vivienne was wearing. She was being fucked by a woman, not with a cold plastic dildo but by a hot hard cock.
She could feel Vivienne coming, the cock swelling, the rhythm increasing. She wanted Vivienne to come because she was coming too, her body trembling, a long slow build-up as the cock moved in her cunt and she felt the familiarity of a woman's body against hers and, at the same time, the unfamiliarity of the woman fucking her like a man. Her hands caressed the white teddy, the suspenders, the stockings, their feel turning her on more, emphasising the oddity of it all.
'I'm coming...' she moaned, wanting Vivienne to know, wanting her to be free to spunk too. But it was not before Stephanie's body had bucked and trembled and locked, not until her orgasm had flooded every nerve, not until she had felt herself falling into a pit of absolute pleasure, her eyes rolled back, her body transported to another plane and then relaxed, that Vivienne's cock slowed then spasmed, jetting spunk out into the place it had found in Stephanie's willing sex.
The dinner was served in a Western-style dining room sitting at a table, not kneeling, as Stephanie had expected, on the floor. But the food was Japanese and served with elaborate ceremony by two of the geishas dressed, this time, in the traditional heavily embroidered brocade kimonos and traditional wooden sandals, their waists bound in the wide white silk 'obis', the padded cushion worn, as Kanjii explained, at the front by girls in training, and at the back by those geishas who had learned all the secrets of their profession.
Stephanie wore a tight black strapless dress, its bodice wired to hold her breasts in a deep cleavage, the rest of its length clinging to her body almost as though it had been painted on. Its skirt was very short, revealing most of her thighs. Apart from sheer Lycra tights and dark blue high heels Stephanie wore nothing else. She had put her dark hair up into a chignon and her neck was bare too: it was long and shapely, its tendons prominent, the hollows of her throat deeply defined.
Each Japanese dish was a painting, arranged on various coloured plates, all shaped differently - squares and rectangles as well as round - as if a still-life composition for some oil painting. Even the soup arrived in delicate bowls with little lids on square plates, all colour-coordinated to make an impression of a carefully constructed work of art. But as well as the visual aspect the food was delicious, the soup a lightly flavoured consommé, the sashimi with green mustard, fresh and light and the beef teriyaki - cooked in front of them by one of the geishas - a wonderful combination of tastes unlike anything Stephanie had eaten before.
They drank warm sake and Kanjii talked about Japan. But it was Stephanie who brought up the subject of the Seven Samurai.
'So tell me about tonight's ritual?' she asked when the meal was over and the geishas served green tea in large earthenware mugs with no handles.
Kanjii smiled. 'I will show you but I will not tell you,' he said.
'It is a ritual, like the ones you showed me before?' Stephanie's body shivered slightly as she remembered the single flower.
'Oh yes. All these things are passed down from generation to generation in the geisha houses.'
'They are like brothels?'
'Yes and no. Yes, men pay for the attention of women. But it is not always with money. A man may help a geisha house in many ways, according to his ability. And once he is associated with a particular house it becomes a tradition of the family. I took my son. He will take his son. It is passed on in this way.'
'And it's not dying out with Western influences?'
'Oh yes, it is. Now it is mostly for rich men like me. In the old days all Japanese men went to geisha.'
'And their wives?'
'The wives would come to geisha house too. It was not a secret for men to go there. It was honourable.'
'But your geishas don't belong to a geisha house?'
'No. The house my family used was going out of business. I took it over. For my exclusive use. I will pass it on to my sons. All the old traditions will die eventually.' He looked sad. 'Not yet but soon. It will no longer be honourable profession for women.'
They walked through into the living room and Kanjii offered more sake. Considering what lay ahead, Stephanie asked if she could have a brandy instead. Kanjii poured a good measure from a bottle of Janneau Armagnac into a crystal brandy balloon. He poured one for himself too. Stephanie did not sit down. She sipped the liquor as she looked out at the view, the lights of the city sparkling against a very black and starless sky.
'One Western custom I find totally acceptable,' he said, touching his glass against the side of hers.
The golden liquid was wonderfully smooth and Stephanie felt a buzz of excitement that the time she had so eagerly awaited had almost come. Her imagination had run riot in the last two days in trying to picture what the ritual of the Seven Samurai might involve. If she cared to think about it, she could still feel the way she had been laid open on the futon and stretched by the geishas before she had been closed and bound around Kanjii's cock: it was the combination of having the nerves in her shoulders and hips so tortured by being pulled taut while her clitoris was laid open and exposed and then being bound into a tight neat package, unable to move, unable to do anything but feel. It was like going from cold to hot. It was not something she could ever have imagined but being held like that, stretched on a human rack, then forcibly held down on Kanjii's cock had made her feel ten times more sensitive. She shivered again as she remembered how distinctly she had felt Kanjii spunking inside her. If the Seven Samurai was another ritual of this sort, it was definitely something to look forward to.
'It is time I think,' Kanjii said, finishing his brandy. Stephanie did not finish hers. She set the glass down and followed Kanjii to the garden door.
They crossed the wooden bridge. It was a beautiful clear night and the sound of the waterfall and the chill of the autumn air made Stephanie shiver slightly in the very scanty dress. The garden was illuminated at night by carefully placed floodlights and the water splashing up from the fountain glistened like diamonds as the drops created tiny rainbows of light.
Kanjii opened the door set in the grass bank and Stephanie stepped inside, her heart beating faster. In the white paper hall two of the geishas, the eldest one who spoke English and another one Stephanie had not seen before, stood waiting, both dressed only in the white cotton knickers they had worn before. At Kanjii's arrival they put their hands together, finger to finger in an attitude of prayer and bowed deeply. He bowed too.
The eldest geisha opened the sliding panel and the geishas led the way into the bathhouse. Their pert bottoms looked alluring in the tight white cotton that fitted snugly over the cheeks of their arses as they walked ahead.
Four geishas waited in the stone-clad bathhouse, all in just the white cotton knickers. Three of the girls gathered around Kanjii - after an exchange of bows - and three around Stephanie. She felt the zip of her dress being undone and the black silk peeled from her body. Her tights were pulled down her legs and her shoes levered off her feet. Kanjii too was being stripped.
After the chill outside, the bathhouse was warm. The six geishas led Kanjii and Stephanie over to the sunken bath and down the steps into the waist-high water. Hands covered their bodies with soap and rinsed it away. As Stephanie felt her sex being rubbed with soap she saw Kanjii's cock, already starting to erect, being lathered by two hands under water. Fingers delved into the cleft of h
er arse and the crease of her labia, washing every crevice.
The washing done, Kanjii led Stephanie up out of the bath and they stood together while the geishas dried them with small white towels, each geisha holding one towel. Kanjii's cock was fully erect now but other than drying it thoroughly - an enterprise undertaken by the eldest geisha - they made no attempt to touch it.
As soon as they were dry their bodies were powdered with a sweet talcum applied with the softest of brushes, the powder dusted up between Stephanie's legs and over her breasts. Next one of the geishas dripped a strong musky perfume from a bottle all over Kanjii's body, repeating the performance with Stephanie's. The aroma reminded her slightly of the scent the black box had produced, though it did not have the same intoxicating effect.
Kanjii said something in Japanese and the girls disappeared, filing through one of the sliding panels one by one.
'They go to prepare. Now I must prepare you,' Kanjii said, looking straight into her eyes. He took her hand and led her across the bathhouse to a small alcove she had not noticed before, set back from the main room but stone-clad like the rest of the room. The alcove contained a large, rather low black table about the size of a small double bed. But it was no ordinary table. In the bottom third a large oval had been cut from its surface, the edges of the oval padded and bound in leather. The rest of the surface of the table was covered with a thin futon mattress into which had also been cut an oval hole to match exactly the one underneath.
'Intriguing,' Stephanie said.
'Lie here please,' Kanjii said, but as Stephanie began to mount the table he corrected her. 'Your head the other way.'
She swung round and lay back on the table until her head rested comfortably on the mattress. With her legs open the hole was positioned between her thighs. As Stephanie gazed up to the ceiling she saw the starless sky. The alcove's ceiling was made from glass. As she looked, one or two stars came into view, the heavy cloud of earlier beginning to clear slightly.
The eldest geisha returned first. She wore a red silk Kheong-Sam split so high on the thigh that it was obvious she was wearing nothing other than the shiny white tights that sheathed her legs and the white court shoes. Immediately she came to the top of the mattress and began unpinning Stephanie's hair, which they had been careful not to get wet as they bathed her. With a small brush she had brought with her she combed the hair out, draping it over the edge of the table. Then she pressed her finger to Stephanie's lips, as she had done before, to indicate the need for silence.
The other five geishas returned together, each in different-coloured Kheong-Sams, each wearing only tights and shoes. One joined the eldest at the top of the table by Stephanie's head, two stood at the foot of the table and two on either side in the middle. Kanjii stepped back to the wall and pressed a small switch, and Stephanie heard the whirr of electric motors. Suddenly the night sky and the few stars disappeared and a startling image replaced them: the glass ceiling had been turned into a mirror and Stephanie stared back at the image of herself lying on the futon surrounded by the geishas, their jet-black hair shining in the light. The sight sent a shudder through her body, a pulse of pure pleasure centred on her sex.
Kanjii spoke in Japanese. The two geishas at her feet each took an ankle and spread her legs apart until her feet were at the corners of the table. Each then began massaging her foot, the arch of her foot, the instep, her toes and ankles, kneading them with strong powerful fingers. Most of all they seemed to press their knuckles into the balls of her feet which produced a sensation Stephanie had never experienced before. It was as though her feet had suddenly become not just sensitive but sexually sensitive, sending waves of sensual pleasure up her legs to her already-throbbing cunt.
Kanjii issued another command. The two geishas halfway up the table reached forward with both hands to grasp Stephanie's breasts, kneading and moulding them, pinching and pulling at her nipples with just the right degree of pressure, treading a careful line between pain and pleasure. What was extraordinary was that their action was perfectly synchronised; each movement, each caress, each pinch exactly mirrored on the other breast. And so was the action on her feet. The pleasure seemed to be rising up her body, the sensations from her feet amplified by the pleasure in her breasts. Stephanie moaned.
For the third time Kanjii issued instructions. The two geishas at the top of the table began stroking Stephanie's neck on either side. That alone, in combination with the other hands, made Stephanie tremble helplessly with pleasure. Then the geishas moved to her ears. Again with perfectly synchronised movements their fingers circled the outer surfaces, around the back, around the edge, then plunged a little finger deep into the delicate inner whorls. Stephanie had known her ears were sensitive but nothing like this.
The six pairs of hands working on her body seemed to add up to more. Even though they never left her feet or breasts or ears, Stephanie had the curious sensation that they were everywhere, all over her, that the feelings they were provoking somehow joined up to make her whole body feel like it was sensuously alive. She looked up at herself in the mirror, watching the hands moving on her breasts and ears and feet. She moaned loudly, wanting to see her mouth move in the mirror.
She had lost sight of Kanjii. She looked for him in the mirror but she daren't move her head for fear of disturbing the exquisite rhythm the geishas used. She could see it all in the mirror, in unison, a harmony of movement, each stroke, each circle, translated in different movements but feeling nevertheless the same, as though all six hands belonged to the same body.
In the mirror she suddenly saw Kanjii's head, his dark hair, appear between her thighs. He had knelt under the table and pushed his head through the oval aperture.
'The Seventh Samurai,' he said proudly.
The geishas moved as one again. In exactly the same second, Stephanie felt a hot wet mouth descend on her toes, her nipples and into her ears. In exactly the same second she felt tongues licking at her flesh. In exactly the same second she felt Kanjii's tongue plunging down on to her clitoris.
It was as though she was suspended, as though she were floating, her only contact with the surface the seven mouths that touched her body. But that was not the most extraordinary feeling. Kanjii's tongue manipulated her clitoris but it was as though she had seven clitorises. She could not distinguish between the feelings from her ear or nipple or toes. They were all the same, the same intensity, the same sensitivity, the same aching sexual pleasure, the same throbbing pulsing sensation. She could not concentrate on one. They all demanded her attention.
To say she was coming was an understatement. She was exploding, her whole body on fire and her mind, because if she could hold her eyes open - and it was hard not to let them roll back with pleasure - she could see in the mirror the most exotic sight she had ever seen, her prostrate body ministered to by six women and one man - the Seven Samurai.
'Oh God...' she screamed as loud as she could, wanting to hear the vibration of the sound. It matched the whole vibration of her body, trembling out of control. The seven clitorises they had created produced seven times the intensity of feeling. As her orgasm broke over her she could not tell from where it came, from her breast or toe or clitoris or in her head where two tongues artfully probed so deep in her ears she thought they would touch her brain. If it broke anywhere it was there in her head, there over the two hot tongues that seemed to go deeper than she would ever have believed possible, there in her fevered mind. But then she felt new waves gathering from her nipples and toes and clitoris and new orgasms erupted over and over again until, after a very long time, she was capable of feeling no more.
Slowly the geishas left her, not all together this time, but slowly one by one. Each departure felt as shattering as if a cock were slipping from her body after intercourse. Each produced a little aftermath of shock. Kanjii was the last to take his mouth away.
She must have slept, exhausted by the intensity of emotion, because when she opened her eyes the geishas had g
one and only Kanjii remained in the alcove, sitting in a small wooden chair and watching her. Above, the ceiling had turned back to glass and more stars had appeared in the sky.
'Are you all right?' he asked, seeing her awaken.
'I think so,' she said, sitting up on one elbow.
'It is a new experience, I think.'
'Very. This has been going on in Japan for centuries?'
'Oh yes. Of course not for the women. It was designed for men. In Japan a man's wealth was measured by the number of geishas he could afford to keep. For most men the Seven Samurai would represent exceptional wealth. But it is not the ultimate.'
Stephanie swung her legs onto the side of the table and got up a little unsteadily. There was a small jug of water and two bright yellow beakers on a little side-table.
'Is this water?'
'Yes.'
She poured herself a glass and drank it thirstily. 'What is the ultimate, then?'
'The Thirteen Samurai,' Kanjii replied.
'Thirteen?'
'Two geishas for the toes, the nipples, ears, knees, fingers of both hands, and one mouth for each of the balls. Naturally enough the Thirteenth Samurai is for the cock.'
'My God...' Stephanie tried to imagine it. They sometimes had twelve slaves at the castle so it was something she could try on Devlin. Kanjii had taught her a lot of lessons she intended to apply at the castle.
Stephanie's Trial Page 9