CITRUS GROVE
by SAGE, written in 2002
Disclaimer:
Rurouni Kenshin© is the exclusive property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and associated
parties. The characters and/or story concept are used unofficially as an
expression of fan appreciation for the non-profit purpose of entertainment
only
and do not necessarily represent the viewpoint or opinions of the above listed
entities. Original portions of this story are the copyright of the author.
This
is a fictional story and any similarity with person(s) living or dead is
entirely coincidental.
**********************************************************************************
L-E-M-O-N: sexual content/blatant erotica. (Just in case you missed the summary)
**********************************************************************************
To Protect and Serve
(*ahem* This chapter is dedicated to George Carlin)
Citrus Grove Condominiums
Hajime would have preferred to take the next day off, study Tokio’s situation
more closely, but he had too much work at the office. Instead, he got up
early
so he could watch her go to work and decided he would come home early so
he
could observe her walking home. Normally he was not a morning person, something
his co-workers would be quick to agree with. Hajime preferred to wake up
later
and stay up till late at night; his work often had to be done in the evening
hours, but after the better part of a week with Tokio’s fantasy dreams taking
place in the early morning he was starting to get use to it. An early wake-up
call, a cold shower, and a cup of green tea were getting to be routine.
He stood on his balcony and watched Tokio walk to the library and then left
for
work himself. At the office he updated a few cases, filed some paperwork,
and
started looking up records on Tokio Takagi. She had one traffic violation
in the
past seven years; failure to stop for a red light. So it was no surprise
that
the one and only other record in the police database was glaringly obvious.
She
had been a victim of assault. She had been hospitalized after being brutally
sodomized by her husband on their wedding night. Tokio had been eighteen.
Hajime
had to get up and walk away from the report. He made a cup of tea and forced
himself to calm down.
Picking up the report once more, Hajime read that no charges had ever been
filed
against the husband due to a lack of evidence of malicious intent, and a
refusal
on the part of the abused to file charges. The report was dated six years
ago.
County records showed a wedding certificate and request for annulment the
day
after, which had been granted, so at least Tokio hadn’t stayed with the cretin
afterwards. Hajime made a note of the man’s current home address.
Next he made inquiries online about Tokio’s taste in art. Artemisia Gentileschi
had been an Italian renaissance painter. Two things about Gentileschi’s history
stood out; she had been raped by a student of her father’s school of painting,
in which the court awarded her father compensation, and she started practicing
her art in public so that her male counterparts couldn’t claim her work as
their
own.
Of work in Tokio’s apartment was the famous Judith Slaying Holofernes: the
allegory of a wealthy Jewish widow who had pledged to betray her besieged
city
but instead lured the general of the attacking army into a drunken stupor.
Then
she beheaded him and sneaked back into the city. In the morning the army
camped
outside the walls had been so distraught at seeing the head of their leader
hanging from the city gate that they withdraw their attack. In Gentileschi’s
work Judith was the epitome of determination and the beheading was graphically
rich in detail and color. Hajime rather liked that one, smart and ruthless.
The second piece was Susanna and the Elders, a perennial favorite of renaissance
painters, which meant that it was probably an oft-commissioned piece and
therefore paid the bills. This was the story of a young Jewish woman who
had
been caught bathing by two elders of her clan. The men threatened to ruin
her
reputation unless she consented to have sexual congress with them. She refused.
A comparative study of work stated that in almost all depictions of this
story
Susanna is young and tantalizingly beautiful, sometimes innocently unaware
of
her vulnerability and always promiscuously arranged for viewing. She is usually
primping and often articles representing a woman’s vanity were included,
jewelry, mirrors, etc. Hajime thought a morally acceptable story with
voyeuristic nudity was the real reason it was so popular. Gentileschi’s work
showed a woman, pretty in a plain sort of way, her simple bath turned into
a
scene of shame and her honest disgust and betrayal by those who should have
been
protecting her plain on her face, quite the departure.
The third painting was Gentileschi’s Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting,
a picture of the artist checking a mirror in the midst of painting herself
by
candlelight. It was beautiful and rich even though the subject was a dark
plain
young woman; there was the artist, there was the reflection of the artist,
and
there was the half finished portrait of the artist. Simple yet complex and
the
arrangement could leave no one in doubt as to who did the work.
The last painting, the one in the bedroom, was James C. Christensen’s The
Widow’s Mite. The center subject is a poor fresh-faced young woman. She offers
for the synagogue’s collection box all the money she has, a single mite;
the
smallest of denominations. In her all consuming charity her rough tattered
raiment takes on a rich heavenly gold illumination, and the wealthy men
surrounding her, the richly appareled hypocrites who cast disparaging looks
at
her offering, are cast into the shadows by her sacrifice.
Although The Widow’s Mite was a humbling piece, so far “Judith” still had
Hajime’s vote. Cut the asshole’s head off. Then again, summary justice had
always appealed to him and he had to exert self-control to refrain from being
judge, jury, and executioner most days.
Hajime spent the entire day in the office and left early. If anyone at work
was
curious about it there weren’t any takers to do the asking, not today! Getting
home he barely had time to get to the balcony to see Tokio standing beneath
the
library roof eave. There was a light rain falling. A courier satchel over
one
shoulder, probably full of books, she seemed to be looking around for something.
After a moment more she tightened the belt of her raincoat and headed for
the
street corner. Hajime shook his head; Tokio could have jaywalked and been
home
in less than two minutes. He was sure the thought never even occurred to
her.
Evidently it wasn’t going to take a week to prove Aoshi’s theory correct.
Tokio
had made it to their side of the street when a red jeep pulled up next to
her.
She kept walking, not stopping, not turning to talk to the driver who kept
pace
with their vehicle. The vehicle stopped in the street and the driver got
out. He
was a tall muscular Asian man; he grabbed Tokio by the upper arm. Hajime
swore.
He should have been on street level. Looking over the balcony he could see
the
dry-cleaner’s awning. He quickly lowered himself over the edge of the balcony
and let go. The awning broke but didn’t fall. Hajime rolled over the side
and
hit the ground running.
The driver of the jeep saw him coming and quickly got back into his vehicle
and,
tires squealing, he drove away. When Hajime reached Tokio her face was too
pale,
her eyes wide. She didn’t say a word she just started walking up to the condo
gate.
“Tokio?”
Tokio just shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about it, couldn’t talk
about it, not now, and not with him.
The owner of the dry-cleaner came out and started yelling, “Look what you
did to
my awning, you mad man!”
Hajime glared at him, “I’ll replace your awning old man.”
“Sure you will,” shouted the owner abusively, “How do I know you’ll replace
it?”
Hajime’s feral eyes narrowed, “Because I said so.” He turned around but Tokio
had already passed through the condo gates.
He moved to follow but the owner of the dry-cleaners grabbed his shirt. This
was
not the smartest of moves.
The old man whined aggressively, “Do you have any idea how much that awning
cost?”
“No,” said Hajime, low and ominous, whipping out his badge, “but if you
don’t
shut up I’m going to arrest you for interfering with the duty of a police
officer,” and looking down where the man’s hand was grasping his shirt sleeve,
his voice dropped even lower, “and if you don’t remove your hand I’m going
to
shoot you.”
The man’s hand was gone instantly. Hajime went quickly through the condo
gates
but Tokio had already made it into the elevator. He took the stairs. She
just
made it inside her apartment as he gained the hallway. As he ran up to her
doorway he heard the lock thrown. “Tokio,” he said. “Tokio! Damn-it. Open
the
door.”
Her voice came through the door, small and tired, “Go away Hajime.”
He growled, “No.” Soft footsteps moved away from the door. Damn her!
He went back into his apartment, determination and purpose in every stride.
From
within he could hear her running the shower. Hajime waited for a moment and
then
grabbed the key to her apartment and let himself in.
***
Tokio stayed in the shower until the water turned cold. She should try to
get a
restraining order against Kanryu but she couldn’t bring herself to stand
in a
courtroom and rationally describe his actions. Even more, she couldn’t bring
herself to listen to his lies and even worse his truths. It would be too
much
like letting him abuse her all over again. She should try to explain things
to
Hajime but she didn’t want to see the look of disgust in his face when she
told
him. She turned the water off and just stood there letting the cold wet rivulets
from her hair stream down her shivering body. Finally she wrung out her hair
and
wrapped a towel around her.
He was waiting for her in her bedroom. She didn’t even bother asking him
how he
got in, “Hajime, you have to leave.”
He walked over to her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Wet hair framing her small face just made her eyes seem that much bigger.
“You
don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.” Hajime’s face was calm but intent. He ran his
hands
up and down her chilled arms.
“I can’t,” she shook her head and her gaze dropped to the floor. She should
insist that he leave, or at least go in the other room and let her get dressed
but she didn’t really want him to leave. Tokio was so tired of coping with
everything alone that she just wanted him to hold her; she wanted to pretend
that for just one moment she was safe and that someone really cared for her.
“Alright, I’ll start,” he said leading her over to sit on the bed with him.
She
hesitated but a gentle tug broke her resistance. The towel she was wearing
parted on her thigh allowing for a generous show of hip and creamy skin.
Hajime
felt himself harden but he did his best to ignore it. “You can fill in the
gaps.”
“A young woman meets an attractive man that seems willing to fill her every
fantasy… maybe even fantasies that include romantic ravishment.” She turned
her
face away, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead Hajime laid back on her silken
pillows, taking her with him, stroking her arms and back. Tokio couldn’t
help
melting into his embrace; his hands were creating little pools of heat here
and
there. Her cheek rested against his chest, listening to the steady thump
of his
heart. The rain was falling harder outside giving the two of them a feeling
of
being cocooned within this space and time. She closed her eyes.
Hajime continued, “She anticipates a wedding night of bliss and instead it
turns
out that her husband has married her under false pretenses. He’s not interested
in women but he is excited by another person’s shame or pain.”
“Hajime please,” she begged.
“Am I right so far?” he asked impassively. Her face was turned to his chest
and
he felt her nod.
“Tokio what else is there?” Hajime wanted to know, but she just shook her
head.
“Tokio I’ve seen the police report.”
“Oh, please, no,” she breathed tearfully.
“Tokio, what did he say to you?” Hajime insisted, but still she shook her
head.
“I’m not …I tried to hide,” she cried softly and he could feel the wetness
of
her tears through his t-shirt, “I can’t…” She wasn’t making any sense and
Hajime
realized she was too upset to push the issue, so he would take a different
route.
“Shhh, little Goddess,” he calmed her and tilted her face up, kissing her
gently, his lips drifting across hers, his stray locks of hair softly brushing
against her face. Kissing each tear and her closed eyes, Hajime was amazed
at
how good it felt to hold her, her small firm body pressed up against his.
He’d
been furious with himself when that asshole had put his hand on her. He was
good
at his job, really good, and he’d been scared for the first time that he
would
fail in his duty, his duty to protect her.
Tokio felt his lips on her eyelids. His arms tighten around her, and feelings
of
warmth and security filled her. He kissed her again; his lips were gentle
but
demanding. His tongue sought access to her mouth and parted her lips. His
mouth
took sweeping possession of hers, his hand cradling one side of her face;
he
tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. He was comforting, and oh so
solid.
“Tokio, you’re amazingly beautiful!” admiringly he let his eyes wander over
her
face. He made her feel beautiful, she thought.
His tongue caressed hers, stroked her mouth; he delved and pulled back, sucking
lightly, she had no choice but to follow. He plundered her mouth, his lips
pressing hard against her, taking, giving, his kiss a vicarious mating. Tokio
felt Hajime thoroughly possessing her soul through that kiss. She could have
this, she thought, she could have him for now. Didn’t she deserve some
happiness, even if it was temporary?
Desire stirred between her legs, she clamped her knees down tightly but that
just made the pressure worse. Tokio twisted against him unconsciously trying
to
find some relief and rubbed up against a hard ridge in his jeans. Hajime
threw
his head back and groaned.
She froze, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, Goddess, that felt good,” he rubbed up against her in return.
Tokio would be lying if she said she didn’t feel some thrill of power in
being
able to affect him like that. She put a small slender hand against the bulge
in
his pants and felt the strength of it through the fabric.
“Tokio!” he moaned, rubbing up against her hand.
She moved her hand up and down the length of the solid ridge in his jeans,
loving his reaction.
“Have mercy, Little One, take me out,” he purred into her ear. He had just
pulled aside her towel and was running his callused palm on the undersides
of
her small neat breasts.
She was breathing a little faster by the time she had worked his jeans open
while he was delving in her ear with his tongue and blowing lightly. Shivers
ran
down her spine. Tokio stopped thinking momentarily when he began banqueting
on
her neck and earlobe but it wasn’t long before she remembered her original
destination. She took out his thick manhood. It was hard and incredibly
soft at
the same time. She wondered at it, so velvety she couldn’t stop running her
hands over him. She ran her fingers lightly over the ridges and around the
circumcised tip, the head a light blushing rose color and the shaft alabaster.
It leaped in her hand and she gasped. Hajime’s body was really sexy. She
loved
his long legs and his lean flanks. His chest was strong and defined and she
loved the feel of it, but this, this was like magic. He was so sensitive
to her
touch there.
He broke away from her for a moment, sliding his jeans down slowly. She
now had
the answer she had secretly been wondering ever since Kaoru had been over
taking
a Cosmo magazine test with Kenshin in mind. Question number six: Does your
man
wear boxers or briefs? Answer: Black silk boxers. Tokio’s tongue made a swift
foray out to wet her overly dry lips. Hajime saw that little telltale sign.
He
grinned in wicked anticipation. The boxers soon followed the jeans and he
stretched upward and pulled his t-shirt off overhead, deliberately displaying
himself, his long lean body. Her eyes were full of innocent hunger. Once
his
clothes had been discarded he climbed back onto the bed, kissing her body
and
working his way upward. Hajime paused briefly at the apex of her thighs to
place
a particularly passionate kiss on her smooth mound, breathing in her scent
deeply. Tokio blushed violently. He made a low animalistic rumble in his
throat
and flashed her an intense look of possession. He continued up, teasing the
sides of her breasts but not touching her nipples. He kissed her mouth, opened
it, and both devoured her and poured himself in so that there was no telling
where one stopped and the other began.
Tokio ran her fingers down to the base of his shaft, she felt him buck against
her hand. “Oh, yes, Goddess, that feels so good!” She went lower to the smooth
sacks beneath. They were so soft. It dawned on her then that Hajime was
completely smooth. She massaged the balls between his equally smooth legs
and
felt them move around. His rose-tipped shaft leaped again!
He concentrated on invading her ear with his tongue while he felt her small
questing fingers explore his cock. Time enough for intensity later. Hajime
busied himself by tracing around her breast lightly until she was unconsciously
thrusting toward his hand, begging for his touch. He smiled, but still he
didn’t
give in to her. Tokio was being thorough herself though; she rubbed along
the
root of his shaft, exploring in detail that ridge between his legs, and cupped
his balls, gently massaging. She laughed lightly. He let her do her own
examination for some time but finally he closed his hand around her smaller
one
and began to stroke himself, showing her what felt good and how to do it.
She
eagerly took over.
Her hands were gliding up and down on his shaft with the rhythm and pressure
he
had shown her, flicking her thumb and forefinger with a soft jerk over the
ridge
of his blushing tip on each stroke. “Oh, Goddess, you learn fast!” he threw
his
head back panting. He didn’t know where she had gotten the idea for that
extra
touch but it was driving him straight for the edge at high speed.
He slid down the bed, withdrawing his hard flesh from her hands, and she
mewled
her disappointment at losing so incredible a toy. “Greedy cat!” he teased,
but
quickly began lavishing attention on her breasts.
Cupping the undersides of both breasts Hajime planted wet kisses all around
one
creamy mound and then the other but never touching her rigid nipples. He
wanted
them straining for his touch. His silky ponytail errantly caressed the mound
he
wasn’t working with his mouth, but judging by her soft moans that just succeeded
in heightening the effect. He got to his hands and knees and looked down
at
her. She was so beautiful. He trailed his fingers lightly across one puckered
nipple and then the other, just once. Tokio thrust her chest out trying for
harder contact. Hajime placed one hand on her shoulder, keeping it pinned
to the
bed. She looked at him with burning eyes. “So,” thought Hajime, “this is
what
she really wants.” He was planning to keep things light for a while, but
the
sooner they could be intense lovers the sooner she would trust him with
everything.
Hajime’s voice took on a deeper tone, “Tokio, open your legs for me.” She
did
not do as he asked right away. Her face blushed and she turned it away. He
wouldn’t allow it. “Look at me,” he commanded. She turned back to him, her
dark
eyes luminous with passion. He slowly reached out and ran his forefinger
lightly
back and forth over the flat top of her pale pink nipple. She whimpered.
He took
the little erect flesh between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it back
and
forth. She threw her head back and moaned softly. “Now. Spread your legs
open
for me,” he demanded. She did, hesitantly at first. “Wider,” he insisted.
Tokio
spread them out very wide, her hands gripping the silk counterpane beneath
her.
Hajime just sat back, committing this scene to memory. She was perfect, her
creamy body supine on a flame covered bed, and legs spread wide at his command,
lips parted in desire, just waiting for him. “Where are your pearls?” he
asked.
“My pearls?” she looked confused.
“Your pearl choker, where is it?” he asked again, this time a little more
brusquely.
“In…in my top dresser drawer,” she was curious as to why he’d want them.
He got off the bed. “Don’t move.” He walked over to her dresser and fetched
out
her pearls.
He came back to the bed and placed one knee on the mattress, his member jutting
over her. Having her full attention, he took the strand of pearls and wrapped
it
around his cock several times, letting the smooth beads press into his flesh.
His eyes closed, it felt good. He rubbed himself over the pearls, his cock
swelling a little more at the restriction, and the head of his penis turning
redder. He turned loose of one end and pulled on the other slowly, letting
the
strand unwind as he pulled, the ivory beads massaging his swollen shaft.
Tokio’s
eyes were riveted to the sight. An arrow of pleasure shot through her center
in
anticipation! She felt wetness between her wide-open legs, the cooler air
against it made her feel that much more vulnerable.
Then he wrapped the pearls across his knuckles and placed his hands and knees
on
the bed. He moved the back of his hand across her nipple, the pearls creating
a
smooth beaded massage across her pleasure point. Hajime saw her bunching
the
silk counterpane in her grip, her breathing becoming faster “Hajime, please,”
Tokio begged. He kept it up, first one nipple then the other. He finally
straddled her chest, his hard shaft only inches from her parted lips. He
reached
down and fastened the choker around her neck.
She reached up, and flashing him a sassy look, took his hard member in her
hand
and brought it down to her mouth. She licked out at the tip, capturing a
little
bead of wetness that was there. It reminded her of eating honeysuckles when
she
was younger. Her tongue stroked beneath his shaft, as if licking a great
big
ice-cream cone.
The scene transfixed Hajime, her little pink tongue was running up and down
his
hard cock! Tokio took the head in her mouth and let her tongue swirl all
around
it. “Oh, Goddess!” He threaded his hands through her silky raven mane, his
taut
stomach muscles clenched as pleasure ripped through him. She began sucking
on
his penis deeper and deeper, working it in and out of her tight hot mouth!
He
didn’t think he’d ever had a woman affect him this much. He trembled.
Hajime reached around and brought his fingers to trail along the exposed
center
between her legs. She was very wet. She thrust her hips and moaned loudly
with
passion while he was still deep in her mouth, her throaty vibrations shooting
pleasure through the root of his shaft. He stroked her in earnest now and
she
quivered. After a moment more she went back to work on his rigid member,
but
Tokio was forced to divide her attention to what he was doing to her with
his
hand. She took her mouth off his erection and he groaned at the loss but
she
kept her hands on the shaft, working it to the tip and back and then he felt
her
scoot down and lick at his balls, sucking them smoothly into her hot mouth.
He
couldn’t believe how incredible she was with her tongue! He didn’t think
he
could get any harder. He applied his self-control for as long as possible,
needing to appreciate her gifted mouth and still stay focused on his goal,
but
he could feel the build up and if he didn’t withdraw from her sweet oral
torture
soon then he would be forced to withhold her pleasure until much later and
that’s not what he wanted.
Hajime stilled her hand and got up from the bed. His shaft was larger and
redder
from her attentions and he savored the feeling. She was a fantasy brought
to
life, wanton and desirable, stretched out across her silk counterpane, her
shiny
ink black tresses now partially dry and hanging over the side of the bed.
Her
lips were parted and wet from loving him with her mouth. Her legs were still
spread wide at his command, bent at the knees, and she was wearing those
pearls.
The scene would be perfect for an erotic portrait. He would never forget
her
capitulation to his first command. He made a mental note to celebrate the
date;
and the pearls, ah yes, those beautiful ivory beads against her creamy skin
dusted with a rosy blush, he would have to make that part of the celebration
too. Never again would Tokio wear them as a barrier to him. When she took
them
out now she would always remember them wrapped around his desire for her.
He had
wanted to rub them against her luscious mound but he didn’t know how attached
she was to that particular strand. He would see to buying a rope of pearls
later
specifically for that purpose. He could easily imagine having her restrained
and
drawing a large strand through the lips of her wet pink center, each bead
bumping erotically against her clitoris until she was screaming with pleasure.
She had no idea what he was thinking but she was starting to look a little
self-conscious under his direct gaze. She started to cross her arms over
her
chest. “Don’t,” he said, stopping her. “Don’t ever cover yourself up when
you’re
with me.”
Tokio looked up at him with eyes wide, a soft blush covered her cheeks, “Hajime,
please,” she looked away, not quite sure what she was asking for. She thought
she knew but…she looked back to him, “Please make love to me.”
Seeing this beautiful woman begging him to make love to her, Hajime felt
a surge
of possession, time to see if she really trusted him. He climbed between
her
open legs until his sex rested against hers, and gently taking her chin in
his
hand he looked into her very being with those eyes, a banked fire lay within,
and he said, “Goddess, you and I are going to play a game. Like any game,
this
game has rules, do you understand?” He was very serious.
Tokio saw desire flare in his eyes, “What kind of game.”
“One that builds on trust. Do you trust me?” She nodded. “There are two
players
in this game. One is called the Master, and is always referred to by that
name
during the play. The other is referred to as the piece, but the Master may
choose any number of names to use during the play” He paused to gently brush
a
dry wayward strand of hair off her brow. She looked a little worried. The
corners of his mouth curved up slightly and he looked on her indulgently,
waiting for the questions that he knew would come.
“Who…who is the Master?”
“Right now I’m the Master because I know the game better than you do, however,
at some point in time you could become the Master.” It was possible, but
he
already knew that she didn’t have the temperament to be a Master. She was
sweetly submissive by nature, but he thought she would make a very powerful
piece.
“Why am I called the piece?” Her face was one of concentration. This was
good.
He wanted her to fully understand.
“The Master controls the play of the piece, utterly and completely, but
there
is no game without the piece. Now this next part is particularly important
for
you to understand.” Hajime’s hooded amber gaze held her darker ones captive,
“The piece may move out of play at any time.”
“I can decide not to play?” her eyebrows rose in question.
Hajime nodded, “At anytime for any reason,” he paused briefly, letting that
sink
in, “you can call a halt to everything, or simply call a time out. It’s up
to
you.”
“If I don’t like the game can I change it,” she asked.
“No, the piece does not control the game,” he kissed her frown. “Trust me,
you
don’t want to change the game anyway,” his face one of dark amusement, and
so
saying he took her two wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her
head. “You want the Master to be in control,” he said seductively. He sucked
long and hard on one of her nipples. “It’s the Master’s task to see to it
that
his piece wins the game.” He had a wicked smile on his face.
“Oh, Hajime,” she sighed.
“I thought you’d see things my way,” his voice was a low rumble. He gave
her
flank a playful slap, “Back to the rules.” It took a minute for her to focus.
“Because the Master is in control the piece must have some way to signal
their
wish to end the game.”
He was making negligent little spirals on her breast. “Signals,” Tokio repeated
breathlessly.
Hajime took her nipple between his fingers and tugged gently but with a bit
of
pressure. “Tokio! Pay attention.”
“I’m trying but you keep playing with my body.” She squirmed against him
and he
sucked breath through his teeth at her sweet revenge.
“Mmm, well Little One, we’ll see how well you do once the game has begun.
Now
then,” and he grabbed her hip to still her movements, “people say things
in
passion that they don’t really mean so we need a verbal and non-verbal signal.”
“Why would I need a non-verbal signal?” She looked worried again.
“The Master controls everything about the piece, including the ability to
speak.”
Tokio’s eyes got very wide, “Hajime, I don’t know…”
“I want you to trust me. Do you think I would ever hurt you?” he questioned,
his voice low and serious, because if she did then he had no reason being
in her
bed yet.
“No, but…” she looked away, but Hajime brought her eyes right back to meet
his.
He knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that she trusted someone
else
before, that she never dreamed he would hurt her the way he did. “Tokio,
let me
give you the joy you should have had that night.”
She chewed her bottom lip, “What’s the signal?” obviously making the decision
to
trust him further.
He smiled at her, “We want to avoid using the words ‘No, Don’t’, and ‘Stop’
for
obvious reasons. Some people like to choose very esoteric words but I like
something that both the piece and the Master knows means the same thing as
‘Don’t’. How about “Quit-It”?”
“Okay.” Tokio’s voice was small and unsure. He would change that.
“As for a non-verbal, I’m partial to holding out two fingers like the number
2,
as in ‘too much’.” He formed the signal with her hand.
She gave an accepting nod and he went on, “Let’s practice. I’m going to enjoy
myself,” he looked at her hotly, his golden amber eyes narrowed in pleasure
as
he began long licks across her nipples and interspersing strong tongue flicks.
“Now you say ‘no, don’t, or stop’ but I’m only going to really stop when
you say
‘quit-it’.”
Tokio was writhing with pleasure, “Uh-uh,” she said negatively. She moaned
sweetly.
“Tokio…” he said warningly, “I think those little cries of yours are nice
but
they are not getting me what I want,” and he grabbed her sensitive nipple
between his sharp teeth.
“Don’t! No! … Quit-it!”
He stopped as soon as she uttered ‘Quit-it’.
Tokio’s breathing was coming a little too fast, and not in a passionate way.
Hajime rather thought that it reminded her of another time she had cried
‘No’
and was ignored. She had to learn that he would honor her requests.
He kissed her thoroughly, bringing her breathing in line with his own without
her realizing it, “Now that wasn’t so hard was it. Although I’m hard pressed
to
say the last time I saw a piece take so long to understand the rules.” He
gave
her a sexy smirk.
“Hajime,” she said in a quiet voice, “have you played this game a lot?”
“Some elements I have practiced quite a bit. The art that I practice is
about
trust and responsibility, and trust is not always about sex, although that
intimacy can take it into a whole new realm. I have experience with all aspects
of the game if that’s what you wanted to know.” He slid his hands through
her
silken hair, “but something tells me that this is going to be different.”
She could feel his sex hard against her parted center. She flexed her hips,
apparently accepting his answer, “Hajime, how do we begin this game?” Now
that
she had made up her mind she wanted to see what was out there in his realm
of
sensual play.
“The game is sometimes formal, involving ceremony, and sometimes informal,
taking place anywhere. Anywhere, Tokio,” he said specifically.
“Anywhere?” she squeaked.
“Mmm, here, at your work, in the park… anywhere,” He finished on a low rumble.
He was back to nibbling on her ear, his hands had cupped her bottom and were
doing marvelous things. He seemed to have some fixation with her bottom
and
Tokio found it thrilling and disconcerting at the same time. It was hard
for her
to concentrate but this ‘anywhere’ stipulation had her concerned, “Um, Hajime,
I
don’t know if I’m ready for anywhere…” there was that worry in her voice
again,
“oh, oh,” he had found the back of her knees!
He chuckled at her response, “Goddess, personally I’m not into publicly
humiliating my partner. This is about trust, remember, and you have the off
switch, just say the word.”
Remember? She couldn’t remember own name with what he was doing to her!
“Do you accept me as your Master?” he said rather formally, stilling all
movement. Hajime wanted her complete attention on her answer.
Tokio thought a moment before answering. She could always stop the game
completely, and she knew that Hajime would never hurt her intentionally.
“Yes,
Master,” she said, looking directly into those amber irises of his.
Hajime cupped either side of her face, staring into deep limitless black
pools.
He swore he could see starlight. She was so amazing; he felt the rush of
power
as she transferred her trust to him. It was a living thing. He could barely
breath, but he felt he could move mountains if she required it of him. He
sealed
their pact with a kiss, long and slow, hard and all consuming. Tokio knew
at
that moment something between them had shifted deeper.
He got on his knees before her, keeping both her hands in his, he reached
over
to her bed post and took a hold of two of the many silk scarves that were
draped
there and taking a red one he bound her wrists. Tokio was a little worried
at
first, history seemed to be repeating itself, but she soon abandoned that
train
of thought as she watched him work. He was incredible. The knotted silk was
intricate and beautifully arranged. The folds were just so and it reminded
her
of origami. The second scarf was patterned through the first, just as
beautifully, and this one he secured to her bed headboard. Then he went to
work
on her body.
Slowly worshipping every part, he kissed her eyelids; she never knew they
were
so sensitive, his soft dry lips playing over her closed eyes. He rubbed noses
with her and she giggled. Hajime possessed her mouth softly and again with
more
force. His hands weren’t idle as they fanned out over her pert breasts, swollen
with desire. “Someday, Goddess,” he said, “I’ll spend an entire day right
here
with these perfect globes of yours,” he promised. The thought sent waves
of
desire rushing out from her taut nipples; she arched seductively. “Oh, please!”
she cried.
Hajime immediately gripped one of her nipples between his fingers and pinched,
not hard but hard enough to get her attention. “The piece will be quiet.”
“But…” Tokio started, her eyes flying open.
“Quiet!” He tightened his grip on her sensitive flesh. It didn’t hurt but
it
was uncomfortable. “The piece will not say anything, or open her mouth for
any
reason except on her Master’s command. Nod if you understand.” His voice
was
unrelenting.
She took her bottom lip in between her teeth in her trademark sign of
uncertainty, but she nodded. He immediately let go of her nipple and massaged
it
generously until she was moaning again. Tokio started to cry out her pleasure
again but as his hand froze she clamped her mouth shut and contained the
cry to
the back of her throat. Having to restrain herself was adding to the pressure
of
pleasure she could feel building. Hajime rewarded her with heavy petting.
She
felt like she would cease to exist if he removed his hands from her again.
She
twisted within her bonds, but they were absolute.
He spent some time playing with her ears; he found that they were incredibly
sensitive, his tongue flicking in and his mouth blowing a gentle stream of
air
against the wetness he left behind. Purring into them loudly he had her
squirming with pleasure. He trailed his lips to her neck, feasting on her
when
she moved her head to one side to give him unlimited access to her sensitive
skin. He rubbed up against her moist center with his hard shaft, she met
that
pressure with her own and she heard him growl low next to her ear.
He sucked on her neck until there was a nice love-mark below her ear. Hajime
promised himself that she would trust him completely before it could disappear.
“Mine,” he said softly. She shivered deliciously.
Foreplay was eliciting the desired effect; Tokio was soon rocking against
his
shaft seeking relief. He dropped down lower and took her nipples in his mouth
one at a time, loving them, teasing them. He gently worked up pressure until
he
could tug on them hard without causing her pain. The feeling was intense!
“You
have most incredible nipples.” Hajime sighed over them, tugging and pulling
their peaks. “I’m definitely going to investigate the possibilities later,”
he
half threatened.
Hajime’s mouth worked ever lower, and his hands grasped her bottom. He placed
kisses on the inside of her thighs, on her completely smooth pubic mound.
He
wasn’t sure what her reasoning was for keeping it waxed but it worked out
perfectly for him. The Art required it. He let his tongue travel from the
base
of her opening to the top of her clitoris. Tokio’s shoulders came off the
bed!
“Oh!”
He quickly placed his thumb inside the tip of her opening and pressed down.
“The
piece can be gagged if she cannot keep her mouth closed,” he reminded her
harshly. Hajime was having a hard time not smiling at her erotic dilemma.
Tokio
shook her head, and then threw it back against the pillows, tossing, as he
renewed his licking torture. His talented mouth pierced her center, delving
deep
into her opening and rimming the pink flesh with strong strokes of his tongue.
Tokio turned and twisted trying to find relief from the pressure that he
was
building inside her.
His thumb pulled up on the hood of her mound, stretching her taut and making
her
clitoris that much more available to his mouth and that much more sensitive
to
his attentive tongue strokes. Tokio tried to strain against him but his other
hand had worked two fingers up inside her wet sheath, pressing down with
his
knuckles and up with his fingertips. This succeeded in keeping her hips pinned
to the mattress while massaging the inside of her wet opening. Hajime couldn’t
believe how tightly her little pink lotus was gripping his fingers. She
whimpered strongly into her pillow. “Does that feel good, Goddess,” he said
knowingly. “Do you like this,” he asked as he sucked her erect nub into his
mouth. She shook with need, her legs to either side jerking with each
contraction of pleasure he caused. He knew she wanted to beg him to move
harder
and faster but she couldn’t. She twisted hard against his stroking fingers,
becoming wild and almost too much for him to control completely. He felt
he
could have stayed there all night, her body was sensitive to his touch, she
was
so damn responsive, but the play had to move forward, he needed to claim
her
completely.
Finally he moved up her body and took his hard cock in hand and directed
its
straining head to the opening of her lovely pink bud. Tokio was so wet and
more
than ready. His wide blushing head tucked into her tight sanctuary, stretching
her, he halted. Gods, she felt good! He pushed forward a little more, he
heard
her squeal, but her mouth remained closed. A little more, he moaned loudly
himself, she was so tight he couldn’t believe it. She was like a velvet
vice-clamp around his cock. It must have been a very long time since her
last
lover. Hajime stopped for a moment to maintain control. She moved beneath
him,
flexing her hips and turning into him. His cock flexed of its own in response
to
her thrust. He smiled wickedly, “oh, yes, Goddess, you are all mine.”
He pulled back and thrust forward. He met a barrier. He stopped. It couldn’t
be!
He pulled back and thrust again. The barrier didn’t give. “Little One?” his
voice was raw and harsh; he maintained his position through sheer will power
alone, his body demanding that he complete her possession. “Look at me!”
She turned her face to his; her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, her full,
pink, bottom lip firmly maintained in the grip of her pearly white teeth.
She
was in pain! Damn-it, he thought. “Talk to me Tokio, how is this possible?”
“He…he wasn’t interested in… he only wanted…” She couldn’t bring herself
to say
it.
“Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?” he demanded, rather roughly
but he
was under intense pressure, he dropped his forehead to her shoulder,
concentrating on not moving, she was so tight. Fuck, she was tight! Gods,
he was
going to die!
“You said…you said not to…”
“Damn-it, I told you there were rules, why didn’t you tell me to quit-it?”
“But…but I knew, I knew it had to be painful at first,” she spoke quietly.
“I
want it to be you,” she flexed against his half buried shaft. “Please, Hajime,”
she begged.
“Not good,” he thought, “it’s my fault if she didn’t understand.”
He growled harshly, “Tokio, don’t move! Don’t fucking move, Goddess.” His
breath
was ragged; his grip on her hips was like steel. His stomach muscles clenched
and unclenched, his cock strained to flex inside her. “Little One, don’t
move,”
he whispered, as much to himself as to her.
“<Breathe>
The Master controls the Play.
The Play moves the Piece.
The Piece can remove itself from Play at any time.
<Breathe>
The Master controls the Play.
The Play moves the Piece.
The Piece can remove itself from Play at any time.
<Breathe>”
He kept this up for a short time, until his breathing was under control.
He
raised his head, and with one hand he reached up and pulled the silken release
knot. He quickly undid his work on her wrists, and placed her arms around
him.
Not her first time he thought. She might want it but he was the Master and
he
knew this play. It would have been better if he had known in advance but
he knew
now.
“Tokio, I want you to hold onto me tightly, do you understand?” he was panting.
“Yes,” came her clear reply. Obviously the game was over.
Her confidence in him was humbling. He kissed her mouth again.
She held him tightly, and then in a rush she said, “You’re not going to stop
now
are you? Hajime?”
He let out a short bark of pained amusement, “As if I could.” He took another
deep breath, “I’m going to try this slowly.” He felt her nod.
He withdrew a little and pressed forward. He felt that taut membrane barring
his
way. “Infidel” it seemed to scream, and his attack was repelled. He pressed
harder. Tokio gasped with pain into his shoulder. Once again he pushed forward,
a bit harder this time. She involuntarily cried out.
“Hajime, maybe there‘s something wrong with me, maybe you won’t fit,” she
said
rapidly with some panic in her voice. He was really big.
“Goddess, this sweet box of yours is designed to have a baby, believe me,
it
can sheath my length, but I agree that this isn’t getting us anywhere. Your
hymen is too strong, and trying to go slow is just extending your pain,”
He
kissed her, restoring her confidence with his concern. “I’m going to take
a
longer stroke, and on the count of three I’ll break through. Try to be as
relaxed as you possibly can. Are you ready?” He hoped so because he didn’t
think
he could stop now.
Tokio nodded into his shoulder.
He pulled back and thrust forward halfway, “One.” He pulled back and thrust
hard! Her flesh tore, she screamed aloud, his cock lodged into her completely
and he was sheathed to his root, his balls resting against her sweet bottom.
“Two,” Hajime whispered breathlessly into her ear. Her nails dug into his
back.
Did he imagine blood was flowing?
“Hajime, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” it was a litany to her pain, tears
bathed her cheeks. “I think something’s broken, oh, it hurts!” She felt like
she
was impaled and being split in two! He was too big!
“Shhh, Tokio,” he said, his deep voice soothing. He brushed her hair away
from
her face. “I know something broke, it had to be broken. There is nothing
wrong
with you. The pain will subside. I’m not moving any more right now.” He forced
himself to remain still. His groin tried to flex in protest. He thought this
was
quite possibly the most difficult self-control he had ever exerted in his
life.
Her wet sheath was so tightly wrapped around him; he could feel it contract
against his foreign invasion. His body wanted nothing more than to shove
into
her heat over and over again until he came.
After a moment she began to relax and the pain did begin to subside. Now
it was
only an uncomfortable pinching feeling. Amber eyes met midnight pools, want
met
trust full on. “Tokio, I’m going to move now,” he whispered. He kissed her
mouth
passionately, mentally preparing himself to call a halt to everything in
case
she felt too much pain for them to continue. As he began to move he watched
her
face closely.
He pulled back a ways and leaned forward, Tokio gasped but not as loudly
as
before, he trembled as the friction of her pricked flesh squeezed past his
seeking head. Hajime kept up this rocking motion, allowing himself to pull
back
a little more and thrust forward a little more each time. “Little One, you
are
so hot!” he breathed heavily.
At the same time he began another assault on her pleasure points, arousing
her
desire again, building up a passionate pressure in her body, playing it,
teasing
it higher. His hand was between them stroking her clit slowly, rubbing it
firmly. She moaned, her head thrashing back and forth with each wave of
lubricous feeling. He could feel her hips start to buck beneath him. He smiled
over one of her nipples, sucking again, tugging on her passionately, giving
her
body some other stimulus to process. Finally she was rocking into him
voluntarily, seeking his fullness. “Do you like that, Tokio, do you like
the
feel of me deep inside you now?” he growled.
“Oh, yes!” her voice high and faint. She panted rapidly, her breath shallow.
He filled her completely, she was stretched taut over his entire thick length
and it felt strangely wonderful. Tokio thrust faster and harder against his
gifted fingers
Hajime was fascinated by her response, “Do you like my hand worshipping you,
Goddess?" He furiously vibrated his finger against her clitoris. She screamed
into her pillow and vaulted against his hand. He did this over and over,
relentlessly stroking her. Tokio thrust fiercely against him, her smooth
stomach
muscles jerking in contraction as she tried to slam her sweetly tortured
flesh
into his hand. He could feel each shiver of pleasure reverberated in contraction
around his shaft. He held her tight as she sought her own penetration
ruthlessly; her soft squeals of desperate need nearly sending him over the
edge.
His thick cock slid rapidly in and out of her sheath, her breasts jiggling
deliciously on each stroke, he couldn’t get enough of her. He whispered into
her
ear, “Do you have any idea how good you feel wrapped around me? Any idea
how
sexy you look taking my cock deep inside you?” She rocked against him even
harder in response.
He continued this sweet assault on both her body and her mind until she was
wildly moaning and crying out her urgency each time he thrust forward. Then
he
began to move even more rapidly.
“Oh yes, yes,” she cried, thrashing beneath him now, the walls of her vagina
clenching his hardness on every withdrawal, molding to him tightly on every
thrust.
He tugged at her nipples, her breasts bouncing hard on each thrust of his
cock,
sending jets of pleasure through her. Hajime brought her legs up, “Wrap them
around me,” he instructed, pressing even further into her paradise. “Gods,
Tokio, you’re so tight, so fucking tight!”
He continued to vibrate her sensitive pearl with his fingers. She was well
lubricated and going wild, tossing her head back and forth, crying out against
the approaching storm. Her hands were on the bed pushing her slender body
up to
his in primal sacrifice, hips raised off the bed, straining for release,
Tokio
quivered with need. He knew she was close. His tempo picked up even more
until
he was smacking into her fast, his balls bouncing against her firm ass. “You
feel so good, so fucking good,” he snarled, attempting to keep a tight hold
on
his own fast approaching crest line. He gripped her ass with one hand and
lifted
her even higher, plunging rapidly in and out of her, his shaft working her
up.
She let out a renewed scream of need into his shoulder. “Come on Little One,
come with me, come with me Goddess,” he teased as he rubbed her clit vigorously.
He felt it, felt her clench him tightly and not let go, “Oh gods,” he thought,
“just when I thought she couldn’t get any tighter.” She screamed his name,
and
held onto him tightly. Bucking violently against his hand and cock, she screamed
again. She strained against him; the storm hit shore, her body shuddering
with
the force of her release. Fire licked through her veins, a flash flood of
endorphins slamming through her, vibratory and causing her to tremble
uncontrollably. Shaking with little jolts, her high-pitched cries punctuated
each tremor, and her silken walls clenched his shaft spasmodically. He thrust
into her twice, three times, hammering into her as deep as he could, needing
to
reach her core, and felt the pressure in his balls shoot up through his shaft.
“Tokio! Oh, Goddess, YES!” he snarled loudly, shuddering against her body,
bathing her insides with hot jets of sperm, lubricating his slide as he
continued to thrust, pouring more semen into her twitching sheath.
He slowly ramped down his thrusts. He could still feel her orgasm clenching
him
every so often, wringing out every drop of his love. He collapsed to his
elbows
over her, still deep within her and not willing to withdraw just yet from
her
wet beauty. Her eyes were closed, her limbs completely limp, only her breathing
showed any sign of life. “La petite mort,” he whispered into her silky hair,
rubbing his face indulgently over those gloriously soft strands, letting
his
breathing return to normal.
He finally withdrew from her slowly and watched as some of his semen dripped
down her deliciously abused pink slit to fall onto the red silk counterpane.
She
weakly moaned her protest at his withdrawal but didn’t open her eyes. He
lay on
his side and scooped her up next to him, holding her tightly, securely. He
knew
he should have used a condom. There was no excuse, just an overwhelming
animalistic urge to make her his in every way. They would have to talk about
that later.
“Tokio,” he whispered into her ear.
“Hmm,” she replied, resting boneless against him in the aftermath of her
release.
“Little Goddess, how does a virgin know so much about oral sex?” he had
to
know. Her mouth had been mind blowing.
She gave a satisfied, throaty little laugh, “I read a lot,” she said languidly.
Gods show mercy, he thought wearily.
***
The Guilty Party (author’s notes)
First off, if this chapter is in any way readable it is through the extensive
help of both Mara and Wrappedinplastiq. Any remaining errors (both technical
and
judgment) are my own.
Goodness, this chapter was longer than the last one, but I promised steamy
lemony-ness in this chapter and here it is. Zesty!
Did it make up for the last chapter? I hope so, it was much more difficult
to
craft than I had imagined. Actually, the crafting wasn’t as hard as the bruises
from falling out of my chair so often.
*Bwhahaha* “He can’t say that! SAGE, try again.”
“Why not? George Carlin can say it!”
I still worked in some plot, sorry, it’s a compulsion, what can I say. I’ll
seek
treatment later.
“Hmmm, Zesty?” SAGE thinks, “I think that should be a new category of lemon.
Erotica with plot.”
*SAGE smacks herself* “You’re rationalizing again! Besides, this chapter
bordered between erotica and the smut gutter!”
“But if George ca…”
“Shut-up, you’re in denial. When you have George’s sense of delivery we’ll
talk.”
“Hmmm,” SAGE thinks, “maybe I need to seek that treatment ‘earlier’.”
The correlation between A.G’s work and Tokio’s life are painfully obvious
<insert Author apology here>. I usually prefer putting in things like
that and
NOT telling the reader everything but I had to have something for the Detective
to detect, so there ya go. (PS: A.G. is a Goddess of Pigment, all bow down
and
worship the splatters of her egg tempera!)
Christensen is also a fav of mine. He’s a habitual allegory user (Don’t give
me
grief or I’ll drag out Pisan, I mean it, I don’t have a thesis to protect.
I’m a
layman on the edge). I’m more a fan of his more colorful pieces than the
work
Tokio has in her bedroom, but it fit the theme and the story, you know, giving
everything she had to someone who didn’t appreciate it, deep. (Pass the damn
caffeine!) I can’t believe I’m doing this to you people. I’m worse than
Kanryu.
We didn’t see any of our other couples (sorry, these two didn’t come up for
air
much) but we did catch a glimpse of the evil ex. Obviously our couple has…ah,
coupled, but it wasn’t exactly what Hajime originally had in mind. They did
not
get to play much of their game. Nothing like thinking you’re taking a little
sailboat cruise and find yourself facing the cliffs of Dover during a squall.
Poor guy. Good thing he was up for the job. <snort – apology insert, etc.>
On the subject of OOCness: I try to stay in the general vicinity but there
are
some pretty big deviations for sake of story. First of all it’s a modern
story,
second, there’s a LOT of sex going on, and third…what was third, Oh yeah,
it’s a
romance. For Saitou that means he’ll probably get a little lovey-dovey, that’s
okay, guys are usually different around their gals anyway.
Saitou: *glowers* “I would never say ‘pussy’.”
SAGE: *glowers back* “You might if you’d loosen up, besides, I took it back
out.”
Saitou: “You have me confused with a certain ahou!”
SAGE: “If George Carlin can say it…” *SAGE dodges a gatotsu*
Anyway, as I was saying…
For Aoshi, he’ll probably have to show *some* emotions. For Kenshin….psych,
I
ain’t telling. But like I said, if you make no assumptions we might all live
thru this.
It’s all Wrappedinplastiq’s fault. If it weren’t for that pressure I wouldn’t
have devoured 3 Vivarin ™I disavow all knowledge of this chapter.
SAGE
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Mara:
Unfortunately this is the last chapter so far....
I hope that someday SAGE will continue =^^=
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