Chapter 9: Soku (Continued)

I sent Jessica downstairs at seven in the morning in order for her to be in her room when it was time for the whores to be called. Jirou already told me I would spend the morning with him, and I figured that the men that brought me to this room knew where I would be. I just assumed it was Jirou that arranged for the penthouse suite for Asami and me.

When I came back to the bedroom, Asami was already up. She was nude and all the makeup and wig was gone. When I entered the bedroom, she took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom.

Nobody ever bathed me since I was a young child. Asami treated me as if I was a princess, even shaving my pubic hair ... something I didn’t do once Shirley was born. (Asami was insistent, actually.)

I then turned the tables on Asami, and bathed her, just as she did me. At first, she didn’t understand, but when she did, she whispered, “‘Merican soku,” and giggled.

I took care of her just as she did me.

We spent about a half hour primping each other until we both smelled of beautifully scented cherry blossoms.

“Asami, you are indeed a morning beauty,” I said, kissing her.

I think she understood, because she blushed at the compliment.

When I went to put on my kimono, it was nowhere to be found. I could have sworn it was in the entry studio next to Jessica’s that morning, but it wasn’t there now.

Asami saw me looking, and I simply asked her, “Kimono?” I wasn’t sure if she understood, not realizing I used a Japanese word, so I also mimicked dressing.

Asami smiled and led me to a closet in the main bedroom. It was full of beautiful silk kimonos, of a much higher quality than the ones in the whores’ bedroom. I selected one for me, and then I selected one for Asami. As sex workers, neither of us wore anything under them.

Unlike the single solid color kimonos the other whores were given, these were multicolored and the stitch work was impeccable. These must have cost somebody a fortune!

Asami’s dress was white and purple, with the white on top, a gold lame diagonal going from her right shoulder to just underneath her waist, and the purple on the right side of the diagonal.

Mine was the exact opposite, with the purple on top and the white below, and the diagonal going in the exact opposite direction.

“Yin and yang,” I said.

Asami shook her head. “Yin yang Chinese.”

I sighed. I hated being the uneducated American.

“We match,” Asami said, never losing her smile.

“We match,” I said, agreeing and smiling back.

When the workers came to fetch me, I invited Asami along. My handler looked a bit surprised, but he didn’t hesitate and nodded.

When Asami and I showed up at Jirou’s office, he smiled.

“I see you enjoyed your present.”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman,” I said, bowing in respect. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a friend of mine to our room in the hotel last night. She’s new to the service and she was a bit afraid. I wanted to introduce her to how wonderful service can be.”

Jirou said something quickly to Asami. She never lost her smile as she gave a quick answer.

“Asami says she was young and sweet. Was it the girl that was originally going to be assigned to me? Maybe she and you can start a new tradition among the Americans.”

I smiled and took the compliment. “Yes, master Jirou. It was she.”

Despite the fact there were two whores in his office, Jirou got back to work. I took my spot in my ready position where I was the previous days. Asami took a position against the other wall directly opposite me, so if we both looked straight ahead, we would be looking at each other.

Our silk kimonos were both folded on tiny little tables that I think were put there overnight just for that purpose. For that reason, I knew Jirou was not surprised by my inviting Asami along that day.

Since I was loathe to simply zone out and turn off my mind due to the fact that I just loved looking at the lovely Asami with her amazing eyes, the kind that seemed to communicate without words. The morning didn’t pass as swiftly as it did on previous days, but it was even more enjoyable.

Jirou finished a phone call and walked between the two of us. He turned to me. “I am so lucky to have two lovely matching bookends. My American and Japanese soku. I’ve seen you staring at each other for a couple of hours. Asami told me she truly loves you, and I see you’ve been taken by her. Would you wish to spend some time together? If you prefer a private office, I can arrange that as well.”

I felt no need for privacy. A couple of months as a collared servant makes privacy all but the silliest memory. I doubted Asami would have any desire for privacy, but communication between us, other than our sex play, wasn’t perfect. I could not speak for her.

“Mr. Chairman,” I said, bowing slightly, “I have no need for privacy being of my low stature. However, I am not sure of the customs here and what Asami would assume to be proper. Could you please ask her if she feels a need for privacy?”

Jirou didn’t even utter a word to Asami. He said, “Asami has no need for privacy, either.”

Before I knew it, Asami was in front of me, kissing me. Then she pulled me into a standing position, and took me into the middle of the room where Jirou was standing just a few moments before. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me passionately, using her lips and tongue and even her nipples and pussy to make the kiss as erotic as could be.

I kissed Asami back with just as much passion.

I never felt a love for another woman as strong the way I did for Asami. I’m not sure what it was that I loved about her. She was a skillful love maker, but she was also ... playful. Even if we couldn’t communicate one hundred percent, we were both on each one’s wavelengths.

In fact, the two of us could communicate just by being close to each other.

I was hers, and she was mine. It was the first possession I ever owned since being collared. I knew it was only temporary, but I wanted to spend every moment of my time in Japan being with her, servicing her, and having her service me. Yes, our relationship was based on sex, but that was the majority of the communication between us. We were saying the same thing to each other, “I love you!”

I knew Jirou was watching us, even as he talked on his phone. For all I knew, he was making a holo of the two of us that he could watch whenever he wanted. My only thought about that was that if he was making a holo, that he give a copy to Master so I might be able to watch it some day after I left Japan with only a memory of this remarkable woman.

Asami taught me a lot about making love to a woman. Prior to that, I mainly hugged other women, kissed them, or licked them or asked them to lick me. What an anemic view of love I had! Asami taught me all sorts of little and big things that constitute true love, and just for that, I owed her a lot. I wanted to continue to learn, and there was only a couple of days until I needed to leave back for the USA.

Unlike when I spend time with males, there was never any urgency when making love with Asami. It was as if there was all the time in the world. Nothing needed to be rushed. How many orgasms did I have? I honestly don’t know. Each one was even better than the previous, only because it was the most recent. It wasn’t stronger; it was just better and even more enjoyable. I cannot compare it to being with Master, but that was never the point. I hoped that I what I was doing with her was in anyway a fraction of as good as she was doing with me.

I got that feeling that my attention was needed elsewhere, and I looked over to Jirou, and he was standing close to us, as if waiting for us.

Pulling my face out of Asami’s pussy, I said, “Is there something you need, Mr. Chairman?”

“It’s getting on lunch time, and we have a date, my dear Jess.”

Oh. I was torn. I did promise him a date. I just didn’t want to leave Asami just yet. However, deep in my mind, that voice that taught me how to be a good little whore said, a whore doesn’t abandon her client.

Jirou laughed. “Asami is also invited, my dear.”

Immediately, my face brightened.

“Why don’t the two of you freshen up?”

I took Asami’s hand and we both jogged to the bathroom. We freshened up, and both used the toilet. This was something I lost once I was divorced ... I had a best friend once again! Fuck, I was going to miss her, but I was going to celebrate every moment I was able to spend with her.

We came out, and then found our kimonos and put them on.

Jirou took us to a sushi restaurant, and ordered for all three of us in Japanese. Asami and I sat on either side of Jirou.

I watched the sushi chef with fascination. Jirou explained how long they train, and all the intricate details of the process. I noticed Asami watched the chef as carefully as I did. It seemed as if it was part of a show.

I didn’t even have to ask. I knew the tiny platters put in front of me were vegan, and the sake was nonalcoholic. Why? I trusted Jirou. From what I knew of him, from the way he worked hard, to the way he treated the people he worked with (as well as both me and Asami), he was a good person. The fact he was the chairman of one of the largest corporations in Japan was amazing.

After the three of us returned to Jirou’s office, he asked me if I wanted to spend the afternoon with Asami again, or if I’d allow a third party to be included.

I bowed, and said, “If that third party is you, I would be most honored.”

Jirou smiled at me, and said something to Asami in their native language. Asami kissed me on the cheek as if she was the happiest person in the world, and I knew I gave the right answer.

The three of us spent the next few hours celebrating life together. Over the last couple of days, the only dick I experienced was Jirou’s that first day when he first met me. Now there was a new chance to revisit it, and feel it (full contact!) in my pussy. He was an artful lover. His mouth wasn’t as talented as Asami’s, but he was definitely a giver. Asami and I double-teamed him, both of us licking either side of his cock and taking turns sucking him from the tip and on his balls.

For a guy, Jirou lasted a couple of hours with Asami and me. We didn’t rush him, and he wasn’t in a rush.

We only stopped when we needed to freshen up for dinner.

I wasn’t too hungry, having ate a nice lunch, but it was my job to be there for him (not that I thought it was work!).

The evening’s meal was something called Teppanyaki. This was similar to a sushi bar, as you could watch your meals being made in front of you, except the focus was on meat on a long, flat, and hot hibachi. I think it was a comedy presentation, but the chef only spoke Japanese. Still, I got more than half of the humor, most of it in mime, and found that it was quite a lot of fun. As for the food, the fried rice was very interesting, although I could not eat it (eggs aren’t part of my diet). The chef actually made a special version just for me, and the chef did a really funny mime act in front of me that was half-lewd, and totally entertaining. My meal of perfectly grilled vegetables were just as much in the center stage as the steaks, chicken, lobster, and shrimp were for the other people at our grill table.

Once again, I drank some nonalcoholic sake, and I saw Asami drinking from the same vessel that I was served from. Afterward, I there were some pineapple chunks for dessert.

That day’s meals were the first where I could have considered myself to be a free woman. I wasn’t really free, of course. I guess the term “carefree” would be more apt, except that whenever a situation would arise, I would simply close my eyes, breathe deeply, and the right response would just come to me.

After dinner, Asami and I went back to our penthouse suite, and Jirou went home to his wife. I went downstairs to my original room, but Jessica wasn’t there. The Floozy was there, and I before I could ask if she could come up, I could see from her glazed eyes she wasn’t really in a condition to walk. Somehow, I was glad of that. As much as I identified with the Floozy, I didn’t really want to associate with somebody that pissed off Master.

Back upstairs, Asami and I spent the evening in each others’ arms. We didn’t need sex, despite the fact that the next day would be my last day in Japan.

I was really going to miss that woman.

The next day, Asami was given a different assignment from me, and when I saw Jirou, he told me that there was some important work that Asami needed to perform that couldn’t be avoided, but she would be joining us for Shabu-Shabu at lunch.

That was going to be our last meal together. Master left me a message that we needed to leave that evening back for the states. I was sad that I spent the last night with Asami without making love with her, but then thought about it and thought it might be the best way to say good-bye. It wasn’t just the sex. We seemed to really connect, especially as the “yin and yang” that Asami corrected me as being a Chinese philosophy. We were very different, but in a way, very similar as well. Even Jirou seemed to think we were a matched set, albeit different in many ways.

Alone in Jirou’s office in the morning, it was easy to take off my kimono, assume the ready position, and then close my mind.

I think I need to describe something here. When I say, “close my mind,” what I mean is that I somehow tune out everything happening around me. My mind isn’t blank. Rather, it is going over everything that is important to me at the moment. Despite that, time seems to pass by without my knowledge, and somehow, my mind comes back to reality a bit before my attention is required. I tried thinking about this particular state, but thinking about it makes it difficult to get into that state, and it sets up a vicious circle. Instead, I just accept it and enjoy it. I have a feeling that while I’m doing all this thinking, the collar might be making changes to me. If that is so, then I didn’t have any way to confirm or deny it.

This time, a part of me wanted to cry because I would never see Asami again. I even liked Jirou very much. If I didn’t have Master, I think Jirou would be an excellent one. He is so kind and understanding. I could be happy living as their personal servant.

Another part of me was happy. I didn’t experience any humiliation since the moment I was in service with Jirou. Despite the lack of need, I enjoyed the sex I did have here and learned quite a lot in the subject of love making. Without humiliation, there was no great urgency for Master to relieve my sexual tension I received from it.

In the end, I know that my pleasure with Jirou and even Asami came from Master. He was the one that allowed me full contact for the duration of the trip. This was very fortunate, since I was not able to be with him at all in Japan except when he visited me to reassure me about Shirley, in the conference room, and at the first restaurant I was at.

While I would miss these close associations I enjoyed in Japan, I knew I would be returning to Master. That tipped the scale away from me having to feel sorry for myself. Instead, I was happy to have been with them and would cherish the memories. I needed to show Master my full appreciation for taking me with him on his trip.

Shabu-Shabu is a form of communal soup you make at your table. I just needed to name the vegetables I liked, Jirou would translate, and plates of them were brought to our table, all raw, along with a private little pot with a vegetable-miso broth on a little hot plate that cooked the broth. There was another, larger pot on the table as well. That was where Asami and Jirou’s broth was. From the smell, their broth was definitely animal based. Jirou explained that it was made by simmering bones for up to twenty hours. There were also plates of various meats and fish, meat balls, and vegetables.

When Jirou explained the concept of the meal to me, he asked me if I liked my broth “regular” or “spicy.” I never ate anything really spicy (except the wasabi here in Japan!) since before my marriage ended, so I opted for that. My little vessel of broth contained lots of tiny chili peppers and other spices in it, and it was excellent, but very, very spicy!

I enjoyed making my own supper! It reminded me of making meals for Shirley and Master. I didn’t know that a “chore” could be something I would miss so much, even when every meal I ate was prepared for me by humans. I put in my bok choy, sliced corn cobs, radish, pea pods, tomato, and other fresh, organic vegetables into my pot, and scooped broth and veggies into my little bowl, using chop sticks and these funny little spoons to eat.