by Ella Ford
Hanako gazed at me. Her timid face so meek and submissive, patiently waiting my next request. I found myself wondering how eager she truly was to serve, what the limits of her obedience were. Was it a cultural thing? Was I misreading the signs here, simply unfamiliar with the Japanese temperament, or was she genuinely this willing?
I felt my pulse quicken and a light flush spread up my neck and warm my face. I knew what I wanted, but couldn’t find the words.
“I-I… yes, Hanako, I, erm…” I stuttered. Hanako looked at me expectantly, her almond eyes wide and eager. I coughed and cleared my throat, gathering myself together and summoning the most commanding tone I could muster. “My feet are aching after walking in these heels all day. Could you remove my shoes and massage my feet please Hanako?”
She blinked and I suddenly feared that I had overstepped the mark horribly, that she would turn and flee the room without looking back, a desperate attempt to escape the perverted of woman that had hired her. But to my surprise, she simply nodded once then moved to stand in front of me.
As I watched, she fell to her knees, sitting on her heels with her thighs together. Without hesitation, she reached forwards and took hold of my ankle, lifting my foot and placing it on her lap. She repeated the motion with the other leg. I relaxed a little, attempting to calm my pounding heart and allowing her to do as I asked.
With no hint of apprehension, she picked up my right foot and gently slid the high heeled pump off it, placing it on the floor next to her. She repeated this with my left foot, and again placed the shoe beside the other one. There was a kind of reverence in her motion, it seemed almost ritual, as though she was performing a Japanese tea serving. Finally, she bowed, took hold of my right foot again and lifted it before her.
I wiggled my toes, glad to be free of the uncomfortable heel. Hanako watched this, captivated by the dance of my toes as they stretched the sheer material of my nylon stockings. Then she began to lightly squeeze the soft flesh of my sole, pressing her fingers into the arch and kneading it gently.
I sighed as she began her work. The warmth of her hands around my foot was invigorating, and the motion of her fingers and thumb sent waves of pleasure through my body. I studied her as she worked. She was staring at my foot intently, a look of perfect concentration on her face. There was no hint of revulsion or resentment in her eyes, instead she appeared to be lost in her work.
I felt my pulse quicken once more, and a distant heat building in my midsection. I raised my index finger to my mouth and lightly sucked on it, peering down at Hanako as she massaged my stockinged foot. She stopped for a moment, placing my foot back on her lap, then turned her attention to the other one, repeating the same gentle escalation of pressure. Her thumbs moved in lazy circles, pressing down on the arch, then she lightly squeezed each toe between thumb and forefinger. Every touch thrilled me, every soft squeeze and light caress sent pulses of heat up into my body and fueled the fire that had taken hold between my legs.
I found myself entertaining forbidden thoughts. I remembered what Helen had said about her husband’s tongue on her foot, the warmth of his mouth. I wondered what it would be like to feel Hanako’s lips on my toes, to feel her lick the length of my foot. It seemed so wrong, but oh so very right. My pussy flushed as the thoughts ran through my head, and I longed to reach my hand down between my legs and answer that enticing call. But I didn’t dare, I didn’t dare take that step, didn’t dare risk this perfect moment with a misstep.
Hanako looked up at me and smiled. She appeared perfectly content, utterly willing and entirely submissive.
Before I could stop myself, I found myself speaking. “Hanako,” I began.
She looked at me, eyes wide with expectation. “Yes, miss?”
“Please use your mouth Hanako,” I said, barely able to believe that I was speaking the words.
Hanako blinked and I feared that I might have taken it too far. A momentary look of apprehension flashed across her face, and I was about to retract the request, to backtrack and cover it up as though it was some kind of joke or a crazy American prank. But then her look of timid composure returned and she replied, “Yes, miss.”
She lifted my foot higher, holding it before her face, inches from her mouth, and studied it with her eyes. Then she leaned forwards and gently kissed the soft flesh of my sole. I gasped as her hot lips touched my stockinged foot and the warmth in my pussy leapt up to fill my belly.
Unable to look away, I watched as Hanako kissed her way up my arch, alternating the tender touch of her lips with light flicks of her tongue. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared entirely absorbed and perfectly happy. She reached my toes and ran her tongue across the tips, settling on my big toe and wrapping her lips around it. I gazed on, captivated by the way the muted color of my painted nail disappeared into the wet chasm of her red lips. She sucked down hard and my entire body tensed with pleasure. My hands fell to my sides and my fingers dug into the soft material of the sofa.
Hanako worked her way down my toes, lavishing equal attention on each one, eagerly lapping at them with her tongue and nibbling the soft flesh with tender care. The experience was electrifying, an intense cacophony of physical sensation that filled my body with tingling jolts. But there was something more that lay beneath this tangible pleasure, something ethereal and difficult to pin down. There was a feeling of power, of dominance. I’d told Hanako to do something that was unorthodox and perverted, acting on a carnal whim that had no precedent in my experience. And Hanako had obeyed, without question, without a hint of complaint or evidence of distaste. What’s more, she appeared to be enjoying it, almost as much as I was.
This thrilled me, as much as the physical sensations that swept through me. This feeling of control, so unfamiliar, so utterly intoxicating. My thoughts ran wild in my head, fueled by the spreading warmth from my pussy, driven to previously unexplored regions. I began to consider pushing her further, asking her to do more, to explore the limits of her obedience. What else could that warm mouth of hers do?
I arched my back and gasped as the thrill of her actions and the tantalising lure of my own thoughts fueled my lust. I squeezed my eyes closed and moaned, a deep shudder running down my body.
Without warning, I was suddenly gripped with a feeling of doubt, an intense fear that swept aside the desire in my body and replaced it with apprehension. The whole situation suddenly felt alien to me, and I became unsure. I pulled my feet from Hanako’s mouth, realizing as I did so that my toes were wet from her attention. She looked up at me, an expression of hurt surprise flashing across her face.
“Miss? Did I do it wrong?” she asked, her tone one of complete innocence and timid hurt.
“N-no Hanako, you didn’t, it’s just… I…” was all I could manage in reply. I was unable to explain my sudden reluctance, to Hanako or myself. My heart was racing, gripped by panic and my own private shame. I suddenly wished that I was a thousand miles away, away from these feelings of desire, away from the strange whims that had driven me into this situation.
But beneath the shame, barely concealed, was another feeling. A raging desire, a hungry passion. I wanted nothing more than to grab this winsome Japanese girl’s hair and force her head between my legs, urging her to satisfying the intense longing that still throbbed in my pussy.
I caught myself before the fire could spread. “Th-that will be all Hanako, you are dismissed.”
Hanako stood without question, the look of hurt and rejection returning to her face. She bowed and then hurried off into the kitchen.
I collapsed back into the sofa, breathing heavily and trying to ignore the fire that still raged inside me.
Chapter 3
For the next week, the atmosphere in the apartment was tense and icy. Hanako became withdrawn and uncommunicative, her own perceived shame at my apparent rejection driving her to lose herself in the mundane. She flitted from task to task, barely acknowledging my presence other than to nod slightly when we encountered each other
in hallway. When her daily tasks were finished, she spent her time alone in her room, practising her English with a succession of self-learning MP3s on her iPod.
I, on the other hand, spent the week in a daze. The intense longing that I’d felt at Hanako’s tender touch still burned brightly in my mind and I struggled to assimilate these strange new feelings. As someone who had spent most of the last twenty years in a loveless relationship with a man who was seldom present and never attentive, the weight of my desire hung heavily on my shoulders. And to add to the burden, I had never experienced attraction to another woman before, nor had I ever considered such a thing.
Though my conservative upbringing was many years in the past, I nevertheless felt a hint of shame at my attraction to the young Japanese girl. If nothing else, I was old enough to be her mother and I felt strangely guilty at the prospect of taking advantage of such a guileless creature.
Yet there was no escaping how I’d felt that night, and how I continued to feel for the rest of the week. Each night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling and struggling to get the image of Hanako out of my mind. The gentle swell of her breasts, the long line of her legs, the soft warmth of her mouth on my foot and the eager brush of her tongue. And something else - the way that she gazed up at me, docile and timid, patiently awaiting my next command. The thrill of control, of expected obedience, of possession.
As I lay there, my body bathed in the cool light of the moon through the large windows in my bedroom, I found my hand falling between my legs, touching myself, probing without thought, responding to a deeper instinct. With little surprise or concern, I found a slick wetness there, warm and moist.
It gradually began to dawn on me that I wanted Hanako. But more than that, I wanted to own Hanako.
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Towards the end of the first week, the rebellion started. Minor at first - a neglected task, a snapped response to a reasonable request. But it slowly became apparent that Hanako was acting out a petulant revolt. Petty and unconstructive, the kind of rebellion that a thirteen year old girl might throw herself behind.
On Friday morning, I was sitting in the living room, reading a favorite book. Hanako was elsewhere in the apartment. Her rota had “clean bedrooms” on this particular day and I assumed that this was what she was doing. Since the apartment had six large bedrooms, more space than I could ever possibly use, I estimated that her chores would take her most of the day.
I sat back in the sofa and relished the silence around me. For the time being, I had decided to do nothing about the Hanako situation and was going to talk it out with Helen the next time we met for lunch. Secretly, I was thrilled by the prospect of my salacious desires being the subject of conversation for once, and wondered what my friend would think of my current predicament!
I looked down at the book on my lap, realized that I hadn’t read a single word in twenty minutes, and decided to do something else. I scanned around for my bookmark, intending to set the book down on the coffee table, but couldn’t see it. Then I remembered. I’d read in bed last night and it was probably still on my bedside table. I stood to retrieve it.
I walked across the living room and into the long hallway that connected the rooms of the apartment, then stopped suddenly. From one of the rooms, I heard a suddenly gasp. It was soft and quick, barely audible, more of a pant really. I edged forward with my ear cocked to one side, trying to hear which room it came from.
Suddenly, “Ah! Ah!”. Two short pants, unmistakably Hanako’s voice. It was coming from the direction of my bedroom, so I slowly crept forwards towards the doorway. I considered calling out, to make sure that Hanako was okay or if she needed anything, then she cried out again. A low moan that was unmistakably one of pleasure. My curiosity was piqued, so I inched towards the door.
I peered around the door jam and through the slight gap between the ajar door and frame, I saw Hanako. The pretty young girl was kneeling on my bed, her pantyhose clad legs crossed beneath her. She was facing towards the door, but her eyes were lowered and she appeared deep in concentration.
As I looked on, careful to remain unseen, Hanako reached forwards and picked up something from the bed in front of her. I struggled to make out what it was, then realized that she was clutching a pair of my panties in her hand. The panties were lace trimmed and made of black satin. They were my raciest pair!
My first impulse was to burst into the room and demand to know what she was doing, but something held me in place and I continued to watch. Hanako raised the delicate lingerie to her face and closed her eyes, then breathed in deeply. I noticed that her free hand was held between her legs, pushed behind the waistband of her pantyhose so that her fingers rested on her pussy. As she breathed in, her fingers moved beneath the sheer nylon material and manipulated her sex. Her hips moved slightly in time with her hand, grinding herself against her fingers. She moaned, longer this time, louder.
I was transfixed, unable to turn around and go, yet torn between wanting to flee and forget I ever saw this scene, and a strong urge to enter the room and grab my most private garments from this unruly girl! Instead, I remained cloaked in the shadows of the hallway and watched the scene unfold before me.
The young girl dropped the black panties to the bed and hungrily surveyed around her. I raised up on my tiptoes, eager to see what she was looking at. Then I realized that Hanako was sitting among a pile of my laundry, pieces of clothing spread across the bed before her. As I watched, she reached down and picked up a pair of my stockings. They were tan, with a lace top, quite expensive. Once again, she held the garment to her nose and breathed deeply, resuming the motion of her hand on her pussy.
She was breathing heavily now, and her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Her entire body was moving in an undulating rhythm, rolling her hips back and forth as her fingers probed around in her pussy. I found myself thinking unspeakable thoughts - was she wet? Was her pussy shaved?
I realized that my own hand had fallen down between my legs and my fingers had worked their way beneath the soft cotton of the pyjama bottoms that I was wearing, mirroring Hanako. As the girl worked her pussy, my hand worked my own and our fingers moved in time with each other. At once I felt my desire growing, fueled by this elicit observation and the intoxicating sight of the young girl masturbating before me.
As my fingers moved, they discovered a deep wetness and spread that moisture across my entire labia. My index and middle fingers worked together, gripping my throbbing clitoris between them and squeezing lightly. Ripples of pleasure swept up through my body and I gasped lightly. Fearing being seen by Hanako, I sank back into the hallway, never taking my eyes off the writhing girl before me.
I needn’t have worried. Hanako seemed lost in her own pleasures. Her head was held back and she’d dropped my undergarments to the bed. Her free hand now lay on her breast and was squeezing it roughly. Her other hand still plunged back and forth beneath her pantyhose, quickening its pace with every passing second. Her moaning was constant now, a steady beat of short gasps that marked her mounting pleasure.
I inched forward once more, eager for a better view and confident that she wouldn’t see me, sure that she didn’t know I was there. Yet still, I wondered how she expected to not get caught. Her moans of pleasure must surely be audible from the living room by now. It was almost as though she wanted me to catch her, wanted to force me into a position where I had to discipline her. The thought thrilled me, and I briefly considered bursting into the room, grabbing her slender arm and laying her across my knee for a spanking!
Oh god! The mere thought of such an act ignited a spark within my pussy and I pressed my hand onto my clitoris harder than ever, squeezing it against my body and moving my fingers in tight, quick circles. I was breathing hard now, bent double at the waist, trapping my hand in place between my legs!
I became aware of a growing sensation, a magnetic pulse between my legs that throbbed in time with my hand and intensified with every touch. Slowly, inevitably, it grew inside
me, flooding my midsection with a fiery warmth that flowed out of my pussy. I became fixated on it, desperate for more and hungry for it to wash over me. I realized that I was going to climax and pushed forwards, my eyes unable to move from Hanako’s young body.
On the bed, Hanako was struggling with her own mounting pleasure. Her body shook backwards and forwards on her hand and she barked tiny yelps into the empty room. She’d raised herself up on her knees, and was roughly massaging her breasts. Her mouth hung open with a look that was equal parts pleasure and discomfort. She appeared to be trying to control herself, to hold in the tsunami of lust that threatened to overwhelm her, but her struggle appeared to be in vain.
Her cries quickened until they merged into one continuous moan of pleasure, and then suddenly, she fell back and the bed and her stockinged legs kicked out in front of her. Her body rocked and writhed, arms thrashing down on the comforter, gripping with her slender fingers as though attempting to anchor herself to it. Her head arched backwards and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
From out of nowhere, my own orgasm exploded inside my body. An intense white light bloomed before me and I felt myself blacking out. I fell down to my knees, arms and legs held close to my body as the intense waves of pleasure swept over me. I released myself into it, eager to be carried along in the deluge of sensation that gripped me. And all the while, I never took my eyes off Hanako, her young body wracked by similar convulsions.
Our twin fires raged, and we both cried out audibly. Yet neither one of was capable of registering the presence of the other.
And then, it began to fade. Control over my body returned and my arms and legs began to quiver uncontrollably as the intolerable tension left them finally. I panted heavily, curled up on the floor of the hallway. I glanced into the bedroom, to find Hanako similarly spent, her eyes squeezed shut as she lay among my lacy undergarments.