A gay adult stories: Tales of an American Geisha Slave Boi by glassnegman ,
Collin, a Business School Graduate, goes to Japan, hoping to find his dream job. What he finds instead, is a whole different life, based upon his dreams and nightmares, in a situation that he thought no longer existed in Japan.
Tales of an American Geisha-Slave-BoiDisclaimer
Do whatever you want with this story, only keep my name attached, please. Please report any and all orgasms arrived at through reading and masturbating to these words. I love knowing that I am deliberately manipulating your mind into an erotic state. Thanks, and Enjoy.
Chapter 1
I don’t know what his business is. The only time I asked him, we were riding in his limo, on the way to a Japanese opera, and he struck me down with a single blow, so hard I lay between darkness and light, until we returned to his home. There, he tied me facing a St. Augustine Cross, and lashed me 100 times with a leather whip, then lubricating himself with my blood, he anally raped me, and left me there in the dark for two days, hanging on the cross, to consider my misbehavior.
The day he decided to let me down, one of his personal medical staff was there, along with two of his personal servants he travels with, whom I’d seen, before, but never met (I seemed to be a whole level of creature below them). No one spoke much to me, other than to ask me a few basic questions about my medical condition, history, etc. They took some blood, bandaged me up, carried me to bed (not His bed, sadly), and left me all alone. Later that night, someone brought me a dinner tray, and I could hear voices from below, laughing, all male voices.
Later, I heard sounds on the stairs…. I could distinguish His soft walk coming towards the room that I was deposited in. His personal servants opened the door, and he walked in, no shoes… we were in Kyoto, after all. He sat on the edge of the bed, and just petted the side of my rump, soooo gently…. oh, I loved his touch… I would do anything for it, but I knew if I wanted it to continue, I must not react… not at all… five minutes… maybe more… just gentle petting…. up to my arm — I was lying on my side facing away from him, so as not to show him my tears. Tears of pain — tears of ecstasy from his electric touch — tears of joy, that he still valued me, and had not put me out on the streets of Tokyo, somewhere, or worse, had me killed in some horrific way, as I began to suspect he was capable of.
After a few minutes of his just petting me, I heard him undress, lying his clothes on the bedroom chair carefully — everything was precision with him. I felt him climb into bed next to me. The night was warm, and no blankets or sheets were needed — besides, I was afraid of the weight of even a sheet against my bandaged back and buttocks, so recently rent of flesh. I could feel the warmth of his body against my posterior wounds, so strongly now, but never once did he bump me — again… all precision, this man.
He carefully replaced my pillow with his slender but muscular bicep — he was very muscular, especially for a Young Japanese man. All very slender, with incredibly broad shoulders, and thin hips. Beautiful blue-black hair, always in the latest fashion. The whitest skin, never exposed to the effects of the sun, like us Americans. His legs were fascinating as well…. Luxuriantly long, but powerful. He was a “runner-up” for the 2008 Olympics track team. When he was in a playful mood in bed, he often teased my by capturing me with his legs alone, refusing to let me go.
With his long left arm, he carefully reached around my left hip, and found my steel-hard erection. Knowing exactly where to touch me, with only the slightest motion, he brought me to orgasm, and, giving no quarter, continued, until I orgasmed a second, and third time, until I begged “Please No” in the most supplicating of voices.
At this, he removed his left arm, and keeping his right under my head, no other parts of us touching, just me, feeling the loving warmth of his body all along the length of mine, injured, and sound parts alike, and together we drifted off to sleep, my knowing that all anger had passed from the mind of my Lord and Lover.
Chapter 2
But that night had long since faded into distant memory… my time with my Lord (My term of endearment for him was Yashi — a demon of sorts, which he seemed to enjoy. — At least it brought a smile to his beautiful lips.) passed in what I considered “dream-time” a lifetime could pass in a single night of agony, or bliss. — or so it seemed to me.
His home, where he installed me — I can’t really say I was “invited to live there” really — I didn’t seem to have a choice in the greater scheme of my Lord Yashi’s plans, was a beautiful property that once was a feudal castle, when Kyto was the seat of the Japanese Empire. The castle itself was a dangerous ruin, and was mostly dismantled, and used as building materials for the new buildings that comprised my Lord’s home.
The main house, where I was installed, also had his own bedroom, and the bedrooms of his wife, and children. His Mother had her own residence to herself, within the group of buildings. There were two buildings that I was firmly told by my Lord’s personal servants “Never to approach, for fear of my own life.”
I never presumed to ask Lord Yashi about his wife, or his relationship with her. She, and I had separate duties, it seemed, but they were never to interfere with those of each other, and we were not expected to meet, or speak to one another at any time, even though our chambers were simply across the large hallway from each other. And, aside from my door having a conventional “western” swinging wooden door, most of the house had sliding paper and frame traditional Japanese-style doors. Not very good at keeping secrets in, or out. I never even learned her name. She was always merely She, or Her, or His Wife….. funny, that, after these years, or what seem like years…..
I came to Japan on a Tourist’s Visa right out of college with an associate’s degree in Business. My sister had married a Japanese boy, back in NYC, and I learned enough Japanese from him to be fluent. Armed with that, and my 2 year business degree, I thought I would take Tokyo by storm, find a job that paid six figures, at least, in USD$$ and live in beautiful, cultured, clean, Japan…. Away from the dirt and ugliness of the cities of Columbus, Ohio, and NYC, which were the only places I had ever been in my young life.
Well, suffice it to say, that didn’t quite work the way I envisioned it. After 2 weeks in Tokyo, all my savings were gone, and I found myself doing a “favor” for a “friend” in exchange for $6,000 — or enough money to keep me in Tokyo for another month, maybe. This favor entailed taking a little holiday to Bangkok for a weekend of fun, and then returning with something for my friend. I was told that even “I” wouldn’t know where this “something” was… it would be hidden so well, and that was for my own protection.