2 comments/ 6150 views/ 1 favorites Memories Can't Wait By: KuroshioX A jumper and a skirt; black with red trim on top, red with black trim below. The hemline of the skirt reaches down halfway to my knees and my black socks fall a dozen centimeters short of kissing it. Between the two is a tantalizing glimpse of skin, just enough to tickle the fancy, a gap embodying the facade I'd shed throughout the years. I'm kneeling on my bed, legs together as I stare at the ceiling. I leave the uniform on out of a sense of nostalgia. Mostly on, anyway. The tie goes into my hands, turning into a sturdy knot with a few deft moves and I give it a solid tug to test its strength. The material sings to me with a snap as it deforms but holds fast to the chandelier. One corner of my mouth twists up into a smile as I hold my slept in hair out the way and fit the tie over my head, letting it settle around my collar before I take a deep breath. My hands are sweaty, shaking with anxious anticipation; I wipe them across my tartan skirt in a half-hearted effort to dry my palms before grabbing the tie again and tightening the knot around my neck. I exhale slowly as it comes to a snug fit and rub my hand over the material, feeling the restraint it offered surge my body with ecstasy. It flows down my collar and through my chest, amplifying the beating of my heart as butterflies fill my stomach. My hand quickly follows behind, reaching up under my jumper to circle my belly-button. The feeling spreads out in in every direction, forming tiny waves that wax and wane as I reach into my bra and softly stroke a nipple. The little ripples of pleasure collapse back into a unified whole and continue their journey even lower. My lip is quivering as the feeling reaches my hips and ever so slowly creeps under my panties... then stops. I know exactly what I must do to get the feeling back and I am not afraid. As I pull my hand from the thick jumper and stand, I look at my reflection in the mirror closely, trying to see myself as other people see me: previously mohawked, raven-colored hair splayed out over my temples, wide-set cheekbones and broad nose, unremarkable lips and dark, innocent eyes. I strike a pose, but slump back into my previous state as I realize I look ridiculous. I blow my bangs up out of my eyes then throw the loose end of the tie over the chandelier. I step to the edge of the wrinkled mattress and ball my fists. "Do it, Hideko." I post my foot out and pause, "Just... step." I shut my eyes tight and take a deep breath, "One... two..." *** It was on a train. Not my usual, I had missed that one. This train seemed abandoned compared to the rush hour. The window panes were being pelted with droplets of rain. I had stayed out late shopping with my girlfriend Tara. I was alone in a dark car, thinking about how effervescent she had been as blurry lights rushed by the streaked windows. She had missed me after having spent a few weeks back in Toronto on business. Her total and complete focus on me, on making me happy, warmed me even hours later in that silent space as the ride gently rocked me in place. The illumination in the train car at the next boarding station jolted me out of my reflection. While I held to the pole, blinded, a couple of new passengers brushed past me and settled-in nearby. The overhead lights flicked off just as my eyes were adjusting. I tried to blink away the colorful shapes obstructing my vision when I heard subdued laughter to my right. Her muffled whispers made my head turn before I could see clearly again. Slick with rainwater, their joined bodies were illuminated shadows. The thick aroma of petrichor wafted off their bodies and into my lungs. I could taste her arousal. She was sat atop his lap and his hand was climbing her thigh. He sounded like a full grown man, maybe middle aged, and her high pitched register was that of a girl, not a woman. There was a shape in her hand, something shiny. It looked like a piece of ornate jewelry, freshly purchased. I was struck by the unsolicited realization of what I was watching, but I could not stop my body from reacting. All the heat rushed to my loins as I watched these two daredevils plant kisses on each others' necks, egging each other on. She spread her legs under his ministrations, inviting him in further. I tried to be circumspect at first, but after a few moments gave up the pretense of not watching them. These two were shameless in their breaking of the law. The man's rough, wrinkled hand went up her skirt, to which she opened herself further. She moaned into his ear, whispering things I couldn't unhear. The man lewdly licked at the joining of her shoulder and neck; the slurping noise filled my ears over the wet taps on the windows. I could feel myself blushing profusely. I wanted to look away, but my eyes were fixed, even as my head turned. It felt like they were putting on a show just for me. Their behavior became ever more transparent as a larger cluster of city lights flashed by. He bared her breast, squeezing it with adolescent urgency. Their escalating indecency made me shiver. I realized I was squeezing my thighs together, grinding them against the thin, white barrier housing my eager sex. The soft material of my panties brought me some relief as it rubbed my nub. Her yelp and bucking hips told me the man was servicing her well. I bit my lip and straddled the pole I held on to. I ground my sex against it - the feel of cold metal a most welcome balm for the heat between my legs. Those wet shades flowed together like a boiling ocean: his tongue on her face, her grip on his crotch. Their euphony of sighs drove my pussy up and down the pole in a fever pitch. I set my feet further apart and it split my lips apart through the cotton, the vibration of the train shattering my reserved nature. I stared at the translucent wet spot on my panties and the thin trail of desire slowing sinking down the pole as the train finally reached my station. I looked up and saw the man smiling at me. We locked eyes. The arousal I felt was overpowering: that kind that makes you feel sick in the pit of your gut. The train's doors opened, flooding the car with light again, so I shielded my eyes. The heavy scent of rain was on my lips before I thought to dash away from wet gust the opened doors invited. My hands padded at my legs to dry them and I found my vision filled with stars, despite my efforts. I was distracted, but I never felt them pass by me. The doors closed again as the stars went away. I was soaked, they were gone. *** "...three." I step off my bed and the tie goes taut, swinging me back and forth just as designed. My airway constricts, squeezed shut by my own weight. My hands fly over my body in a flash, one hand pulling my panties to the side, the other furiously rubbing my lips in a circular motion as each breath is choked out of me. I would give my clit some attention, but the sensation of being strangled sends a jolt of pure bliss straight through my pussy. Just a single brush against my hard nub causes me to spasm, my feet kicking wildly. I'm not quite wet yet, but the sensation of being hung forces a mnemonic rolodex past my eyes. Insistent memories force their way into my conscious mind, filling my awareness with past deeds. It ignites the fire in my core and allows me to work my fingers faster, my fleshy lips plumping up fatter with every passing second while my clit protrudes out from under its hood. I try to control the parade of images, sensations, but the stranglehold on my body nullifies my efforts. I am turned into a restrained voyeur, fucking myself to the exposure of my own affairs and cocksure flirtations with danger. And the people, all of them, the big talking flakes, the bastards who take without seeking permission, the amenable fools who indulge me, they all fill me at once. It is overwhelming, but that only forces more blood to my cunt and a growing intensity to my self-pleasure. I feel my cheeks redden and my body dangle. The memory collage begins building a bigger picture, just as my fingers straighten and sink between my folds to explore my pussy. *** "Goddamnit, Hideko." Tara was upset with me. It was my fault. "What?" I should have been upfront with her. I should have done a lot of things. "How is that a solution?" He made me feel more. "It would be fun. Just the two of us like it was before." She felt like home. "I don't like how casually you talk about cheating." Having them both at the same time was transcendent. "It is your fault I like dick." It stopped happening after her business trip to Belgium. "So you're going to throw that in my face?" I fucked him that whole week. "I wasn't the one who met him." He was still dripping down my thighs when I met her at the airport. "And you are trying your damnedest to make me regret it." That was the first time her tongue didn't do it for me. "I don't want you to regret anything. I just want to make you happy." I had spent most of the three months since her return in Aaron's bed, kitchen, laundry room, couch. He was a perfect outlet for me to explore my blossoming perversions. I was falling for him. Before she met him, I was a skittish little sapphist. I wouldn't have been out of place in a Girl's Love manga. My time with him changed me. Or rather it was the things he and I did. It made my ideas for getting back the closeness us girls shared... ill-advised. In my lust-addled mind, it made sense to suggest we troll for cock. Why wouldn't two bisexual women indulge themselves if fucking each other was stale? A tall, busty blonde like her turned a lot of heads in Japan. We'd scour the city for a hot guy - or guys - and bond over some newfound piece of cockmeat. Once we found the right guy maybe we'd tie him up and ride him. Maybe he'd tie one of us up and let the other sit in her face. Maybe Tara would take a strap-on to him while I filmed. It made sense to me. Of course it would make sense to me. Why wouldn't two bisexual women indulge themselves in strange cocks if sex had become stale? Sex is never the only thing wrong. "Do you really? It doesn't feel like you want anything to do with me lately," she said. She danced around the subject of Aaron a lot. And why wouldn't she? However, it had started to become stale with him, too (most of the time). Just thinking about his shovel-headed cock could send all the blood to my nethers, but it seemed like each time he finished I fell further behind. It had been two weeks since I had come - not for lack of trying. "You're right. It's a stupid idea. I did have something else in mind, though." She pursed her lips at my clumsy recovery. "I mean it. It is something new for all three of us." She sighed, flipping her hair back and tying it into a ponytail. It was a tic I knew well. "Hideko, you are gone for weeks, you don't talk to me and when you do show up your idea of spending time together is prurient, irresponsible. And then you blame that on me and Aaron. Should I be concerned about what you do when we are not around?" I shuffled my feet. "I was only teasing." I felt the onset of a diatribe - not the first of its kind. Her tone would be hellishly cold as she surgically examined my faults. She would corner me against a wall, staring at me with those dead eyes. And my step would be to grab her by the head, standing on my tip-toes and pressing my lips to hers in a deep, lusty kiss. It would derail her and put her on the defensive. A flip flopping struggle for control would ensue. It was my favorite dance. And her mouth was so incredible to taste. She had the softest lips and an incredible tongue. Making out was never a chore when it came to foreplay. From the way she grabbed the back of my head and kissed me back, it was clear she felt the same. My neglect of her soft body made her devour me. Her kisses were aggressive, slurping, making me know how much she missed me. Her indelicacy showed me I made the right choice all this time. Our kiss continued for several moments before I finally broke away, both of our faces reddened and our breathing labored. Her lipstick had smeared along the right corner of her mouth. I licked my thumb and reached up to wipe the worst of the damage away. She purred. "I really do have an idea, though." Tara cocked an eyebrow at me. "Alright, what is it?" I ran my fingers from her chin, down along the bottom of her face before brushing my fingernail lazily behind her ear. She nuzzled my arm. It made me giggle. "Call Aaron first, I need both of you for this." She hastily dialed our boyfriend and demanded his presence, her free hand exploring my thigh. He took his sweet time traveling to her apartment, leaving us to our own devices. By the time he knocked on the door, I had her back against a wall, my body pressed against her's while laying siege to her neck with soft kisses and the gentle touch of my fingers. Her pale face was sporting a deep blush that extended down to the top of her big, freckled tits. I continued nuzzling her, even as she slithered along the wall, inching her way towards the door to unlock it. Our boyfriend stepped inside to the sight of one of his girlfriends with her back to the wall, being hungrily licked down by the other and so he did what any red-blooded man would do under the circumstances: shut the door, take his pants off and press up behind me. His hands wandered freely, palms sliding over my waist while he kissed the back of my neck. I could feel his awoken erection slipping between my legs. It prodded at my mound. I laughed and pushed them both away from me, leading them to her over-sized bathroom. They stumbled behind like over-eager kids. I stood beside the tub, facing my lovers. "I want to play a game... a kinky one." A lip dragged across my teeth. Aaron nodded. Tara smirked and asked, "What kind of game?" "I want you to take turns fucking me while you hold my head underwater. Dunk it right under. You can take turns fucking me, just keep my head below the surface." Tara's expression soured. "This sounds like torture." I bit my lip. "That is the fun part... for me." My girlfriend's eyebrow creased deeply, considering my request. Aaron just kept nodding while peeling his shirt off. She looked over to him and sighed. "Alright, I guess we're doing it." I turned on the faucet, plugged the drain and let the tub fill with lukewarm water. Despite her reservations, Tara seemed as excited as Aaron; her delicious breasts heaved and she rolled on the balls of her feet. I perched myself on the marble lips of the tub, looking them over while I waited. My muscles rippled from holding myself up and my legs shook after a while, but I smiled as I watched them grow ever more impatient. My lips quivered at the thought of them taking out their anxiety on my body. I wanted them to be rough. Something about Aaron's expression made me lose my composure and I laughed. My grip slipped and I knocked the back of my head against the tub floor. My black hair danced along my nose as I inhaled the water flowing around me. Hands grasped at my flailing body and pulled me up. I retched over the lip as my lovers hoisted me out of the tub. Tara patted my back and spoke to Aaron, "This is a stupid idea." "W-wait," I croaked, "I'm good. I just slipped." Aaron swiped my matted hair out of my eyes. I could see his erection softening. "Tara is right. We could take this to the bedroom instead. We could just restrain you there, yeah?" I coughed up frothy saliva. "I need to try this. You two will be in complete control. I won't make any more dumb mistakes." They shared a look between each other and I watched Aaron's expression relax, "OK, but we stop when we feel it has gone too far." I nodded and belched, clearing the last of the water out of my system, "OK, get the ring gag and blindfold. I want to be surprised when you do it." He grimaced, but left anyway, slipping a little on the puddle. Tara shook her head and leaned against the counter. She stared at the large puddle around me. "You are going to have to soak this up if we are going to do anything. Or do you want us to tumble as well?" "I was gonna," I stuck my tongue out at her. I must have looked ridiculous, covered in saliva and snot, because she raised an eyebrow at me. "You should get some wire to tie my hands behind my back." "I will get a necktie. Not like we have been using them for much lately." She let her barb sink in before she strode into the hallway, shaking her ass as she went. I sighed, but did as she requested and grabbed a towel from the cupboard, setting about soaking up the layer of water pooling the floor. It wasn't particularly difficult, but I could tell it would be time consuming. My coughing fits were soothed to minor hiccups as I worked. Bent over, I began to feel embarrassed for taking that spill and tried to hide my blushing cheeks from no one in particular. I yelped as a slender hand clapped my up-turned ass. "No slacking, 'Ko!" I growled at Aaron's disrespect. He laughed, "Let's see you move that butt." I giggled and pushed the towel more insistently. My boyfriend stepped over me and bent low, nuzzling my neck as he hooked the ring gag into place. I shook my head insistently and he removed it. "What?" "I thought you wanted me to finish?" I gasped as the familiar white cloth draped over my eyes and was tied tightly around the back of my head. "With the way you move, we'll be here all night. Give me the towel." I clumsily handed it over and sat up on my knees. I listened to his grunts as he went to work, smiling at another little remembrance - one Tara could never know about. My girlfriend - I assumed - stepped through the doorway and took my wrists into her hands. She held them together behind my back and wound the tie around them. When her hands left me, I wiggled my arms. "Tighter. I can still move." She growled behind me and re-tied the knot. "Still not enough." Aaron laughed. I could feel her prickly stare. "This is why I don't do this shit. Why can't you do it?" "I am mopping the floor. You are going to have to learn how to do it right eventually." Her third attempt was tighter, but still a bit loose. "If my hands get free, I am going to take you by hair and bend you over the railing." "Wouldn't that be a change of pace?" She stood me up and walked me to the tub, poking me in the behind with her sizable plastic hard on. Aaron ducked out of the way with the floor having been mostly dried up. He hooked the ring gag back into the place and then took position at the other end of the tub. She lowered me head first, letting my legs dangle over the lip. She held me up by the small of my back. I smiled, feeling my hair float along my shoulders. It tickled my slick skin. "I guess I get the first turn with this piece," Aaron said, running a finger over my slit. I rubbed my lips together, ignoring another sigh from Tara. "You ready?" I nodded vigorously, "No more teasing!" My giggle was stifled by her hand on my mouth. I went under. To Tara's credit, for all of her reluctance and her steely disposition, she meant business when it came to fucking. Aaron had the skill in his stroke, but she was a mean domme. She could leave me staggering for a few days if sufficiently provoked. So I suppose my comment mocking her incited that darker side of her. I had no warning before I went under. I struggled. I choked. My pussy burned. And it felt unlike anything before it. Between his eager cock plunging into me and her vicious dunking of my head, I could feel the pressure start to build. Deaf to the world beyond the bubbling in my ears, all I could feel - all I could focus on - was the cock working in my hole. It was difficult to hide my mental...wanderings while I was in bed with them - even while tied up - but below water, I could think anything I wanted. How could they suspect the woman being thrust under the surface of fantasizing about other people? Memories Can't Wait Not that Aaron wasn't intense when he was into something - or one of us. His thrusting body belayed his earlier unease. He clawed into my thighs like a predator wrangling its prey. After a couple dunks to the bottom of the tub by my enraged blonde, my legs stopped bobbing around his hips. The angle drove him so deep inside me; his crown spearing my folds and his balls slapping my quivering pucker, sending my body into spasms. My cunt squeezed down on him, milking him urgently, and bathing him in my juices. He didn't join me, but I could feel his groan through my body. As the surface of the bath stilled, I could even make out his strained face. My head broke the surface the moment my orgasm subsided and I expelled water from my previously submerged orifices. My eyes were covered in a clear sheen that I struggled to blink away. "-turn." Tara held me up by collar. My ability to see slowly returned to me and i turned to look at her to figure out what she was saying. My mind was too hazy for me to know whether I was looking up at her or at a wall. Aaron ground his palm into my pubis as he retreated from me. I mewled and bucked my hips at him. Instead of returning, he came to the other side of the tub and cautiously took Tara's place holding me up. My eyes were just beginning to focus again when my evil cunt of a girlfriend thrust into me. I remember thinking how much I loved her when my boyfriend seized my hair and thrust my head below the surface. He didn't stand idle like she did. His hand tore at my t-shirt, exposing my breasts, squeezing and pinching them. She pounded my cunt into oblivion, hugging ever closer to my reclined torso. Give an appropriately motivated woman a strap-on and she will wreck whatever is in her path. I would have been convinced my pussy was being destroyed if I didn't feel it burning from her thrusts. She kept me at the precipice of cumming simply by the amount of pain she could cause. On a normal day I wouldn't have cum. I can't really remember the next minute or so after that, not as a full fledged memory, anyway. More like a feeling. I felt everything and, for a moment, I was not in that tub. In the time since that moment, I have become convinced that the sudden warmth, displacement I felt was enlightenment. I knew what I had to do with my life. I woke up beside the tub. They were saying things, but I didn't understand. I was on some ethereal masochistic plane and they were still bound to this vanilla existence. I found it difficult to make them see my perspective with bile and tub water flowing out of my mouth. *** The memory of orgasms I had that day ripples through me, a newfound wave of desire filling my body with a fresh yearning for release. My fingers search for it between the lips of my pussy as I remember those sensations, comparing them to my circumstances now: the fullness, the drowning, the save. I struggle to look down at my feet. The little chair that was to be my saving grace is tipped on its side, a meter to my left and a few centimeters too far down to reach even if it was directly underneath me. Oh no. I panic, trying to scream through the tie's death grip around my throat. One of my hands claws at the knot as the other, against all reason, keeps rubbing away at my slit. My hips buck, wanting to be fucked. My arousal is carried forward without pause, the fleeting brushes with my clit becoming more frequent as my body jerks around. My pussy is gushing, wetter than it has ever been before in my life. Even as the stars begin to form in my vision I can't pretend the fear of death will overpower the desire to feel release. I watch myself swing from the chandelier in the mirror: a pretty school girl in her black and red uniform, skirt hiked up and panties to the side, masturbating her life away. I want to focus. I want to fight through the lustful haze to free myself of my noose. I can see it in the mirror, held fast around my neck. Even with my fingers crawling between my puffed up lips, I can still fight. I need to. My mouth gapes, strands of drool webbing my lips as I try to vocalize my predicament to anyone who may be near enough to hear. No sound comes out. All I can hear is the juicy shlick - shlick - shlick of my finger's ministrations to the pounding in my head. *** Mouth full of water, cum or rope or unobstructed at all, after a certain point I stopped being good at people. I could seduce, tease, flirt, fuck like professional escort, but the more I aged the less I understood emotions. Choices that made sense to me only reinforced the barriers between us. The aggression of our arguments grew exponentially until the arguments stopped happening. There was weeks of tense silence, punctuated only by exasperated bitch fests by Aaron that Tara and I received more than responded to. I thought a real, honest shock was what we needed break the ice away. I suppose not every wine becomes finer with age. I shifted. I no longer felt comfortable bearing my surprise to them. I actually felt exposed with my panties off. I cupped my cunt and attempted to react naturally under his gaze. I tried to think quickly, to invent a believable alibi. Words eluded me. Tara was quiet. She rarely spoke to me lately. Frankly, the arguments stopped happening because she stopped fighting. Anytime I did something that set Aaron off, she sat there on her side of the couch with her face craned forward on her hand. Anytime I did anything that normally bothered her, she didn't react. She could speak up and confirm his suspicions at any time. I would have no defense. Instead, she physically distanced herself from my interrogation as much as she could. That made my heart sting. My fingers silently strummed the lace criss-crossing my labial piercings. I knew I was sweating, but I tried my hardest to look insulted by his allegations. I just needed to tell him something believable. The only thought in my head was my wish that Tara would just get angry again. I took too long. He exploded. He called me a cheating cunt, a liar, a manipulator. He berated me for my carelessness. This was the overture. He really unloaded on me when it came to my unemployment. I had no way of defending myself against that accusation even if I was clear headed enough to dispute the others. All three of us knew I had stopped trying to find a job. It wasn't that I was unqualified. I could easily do an office job. I just didn't see the point when I was in a relationship with two people who, to say the least, weren't unwealthy. Besides, I was earning the money I was using on my body modifications and wardrobe. That was what really spurred this argument, not my new cunt piercings. I don't remember how long I was silent, but I do remember Tara finally speaking up. She told me to leave. She told us to leave. I begged her to reconsider, he just got angrier. I winced as she told him what I had long suspected: she was only with him because of me. We were a package deal and now that she no longer needed me, she no longer needed him. To his credit, it didn't take much convincing beyond that. He left rather gracefully for someone so passionate. I, however, blubbered like a little girl. I pleaded and cried, but she was stone faced. I eventually wore out her patience, though, because she seized me by the back of my neck and pushed me out the door, tossing a handful of belongings out behind me. I screamed and screamed in the hallway, pleading her to give me another chance. Somebody must have called security, because they showed up after a while to remove me from the building. Still bottomless, I tied a cardigan around my waist to regain some level of decency. I sucked them off in exchange for not being handed over to the cops. I never stopped crying. After I choked down their cum, they kicked me out the back entrance minus a cardigan with a warning to never return or they would reconsider contacting the police. I landed in a puddle, becoming slick with dark alley slime. Mercifully there was a big rag hanging out of the nearby dumpster, possibly the remnants of a bed spread. As I wrapped it around me waist, I looked down at my chastity piercings. My gesture of commitment to remaining pure for them had made me homeless. *** I hate that memory. I want to bury it deep in a black hole where it can never return from. I hate my inaction, my inability to understand them. I can't blame them for kicking me out. I have tried to contact them since, but by now I am just some ex that won't let go. A single bead of wetness runs down my finger as I think back on it, imagining other ways that scenario could have played out: with Aaron shoving me on my back and Tara pulling the strings even tighter. With her telling me I'd never feel another dick in my cunt again. With him grabbing two handfuls of hair and using my mouth as a replacement. That would have been nice, if fantastical. My feet keep kicking, causing me to swing back and forth slightly. Not that it does any good. I am not moving fast enough to snap myself free or even tighten the noose to just end it already. All I can do is marvel at the combination of despair and arousal I feel. Dying is certainly the most interesting thing I will do this week, I suppose. *** I didn't suffer long. One of the men I cheated on them with had a connection perfect for my disposition. He set my up at the Good Pink Health Center as one of their "special orders". Pink-haired and oiled-up, I ground my thighs on a fat salaryman's dick while I had my head in another's lap, bobbing up and down with wet slurps as I serviced his cock. It wasn't bad work really, at least not once I'd learned to tune out whatever prattle the customers were going on about. But the customer between my legs in particular had taken a shine to me, in spite of my piercings and flamboyant hair. Actually, it is probably in part because of my eccentricities. Apparently he liked the wild ones. I have to admit, it was a little sexy and thrilling to slide up and down someone else's skin and suck dick for money. There was certainly the taboo nature to ring my kink bells. Then there was the actual physical nature of it; human beings were meant to hold each other close and since I'd been expelled from my last set of cuddle-buddies, this was a nice stand-in. And the guy wasn't too bad, as far as fat, middle-aged salarymen went at least. So when he grabbed the back of my head just as the other guy was peaking, I wasn't too irritated. "So, Aoi-san," he addressed me using my stage name, "What is that stuff between your legs?" I giggled and drug my restrained pussy over his dick, spit dribbling around the corners of my mouth as I took the other man's cock in my hand and began a rapid-fire series of strokes, "Have a guess, Tanaka-san." "Oh, I don't know, such an innocent girl as yourself? It couldn't be a sort of chastity device, could it?" While he asked, I'd reached over with my other hand, gently pulling the other man's balls down, leaning over him and letting a gob of spit land on his prick before picking up into a brutally fast stroke. It drive him over the edge with a gasp and he splashed loads of hot kids over my hands. I giggled again and turned my attention back to the man I was straddling, "Something like that, Tanaka-san." I sat up and really worked my weight onto his cock, sliding harder and faster. I inhaled and moaned softly as my piercings were pressed up against my clit by the gentle up-turned curve of his shaft. Tanaka-san definitely appreciated the noise, unlike some of the other customers who preferred the girls be completely silent while working them over. I didn't mind doing it either; it was hard to deny it felt good on some level, even though it never brought me to completion. But that made me exceptional at the Good Pink Health Center and popular enough with a certain salaryman that when the timer chimed softly he handed me a business card. "In case you ever need a little pocket change. You know, for shopping." I wasn't stupid. It was prostitution, no matter what sort of euphemism he covered it with. But I'm no prude and I could've used the extra cash, so I kept the card, even past clocking-out time. I was surprised by my actions but I actually mulled over his offer as I waited for the train home, flipping the card end over end. On the back, he'd written down the address and room number of his penthouse suite. The smiley face he capped it off with was pathetic, considering his age. Still, it was money and I needed more of it. My phone was in my hand the instant I made the decision, "Tanaka-san, it's me, Aoi." The man was giddy, "Oh, Aoi-san! So nice to -" "I'll do it." My voice was cool but I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. "Two conditions: first, you don't touch my pussy. At all." "...well what are -" "Off-limits. Non-negotiable." "...What is the other condition?" "You invite friends. As many as you can." "I take it that your pussy is off-limits for them as well?" "Naturally." He was silent. "Look, you are a big man, I am sure you can think of other ways for me to entertain you and your friends." Subtle phallic references were always a good way of winning a man over. "Ok, Aoi-san. Do you need directions?" "No, I can find it. I will be there in an hour." "Are you sure? Such a young girl as yourself has to be careful and take care -" I hung up on him. My nipples were already getting hard at the thought of what I'd be doing inside that penthouse. His building was near the next stop (I may have performed services for other clients before in that very same building). I didn't want to show up too early and end up alone in the room with Tanaka-san; that would be a little too intimate for my tastes. Instead, I sat down at a local coffee house and did some people watching: pink-cheeked students fresh from school, harried housewives with children in tow, the occasional friendly policeman and the always present street vendors. The heat and dampness between my legs left me at a low simmer, anxious and ready. At the end of the hour, I picked up my phone and called Tanaka-san again, "I'm here, be ready for me." I ended the call before he could respond. Sure, he could take offense, but that just added to the thrill. I didn't want him to notice my shaking before I entered the penthouse. The simmer in my panties rose to a boil on the elevator ride up and by time I was at his door, my thighs were rubbing together of their own accord. I hoped my facade of indifference would hold fast. I had a reputation to maintain, even under these circumstances. Tanaka-san cracked the door and peered out cautiously, his face breaking into a boyish smile when he realized it really was me, "Ah, Aoi-san, come in, come in!" He shifted the door open, but remained hidden behind it as I stepped inside. The room's look was gaudy, built for the conspicuous consumer... or someone trying to impress people. Maybe both. Everything was trimmed with gold. The carpet was so fine it made me feel barbaric just for standing on it. As I kicked off my shoes, the room's heavy perfume filled my lungs with such virile intensity that I couldn't suppress a cough. The men scattered throughout the room in varying states of undress chuckled at the reaction. They were tanned, pasty, portly and gangly. They leered at me and I felt my skin flush at the sight of several erections stiffen under my gaze. Even though I was expecting the upcoming debauchery, Tanaka-san putting his hands on my shoulders still made me jump. I smiled nervously as the introductions began. Right off the bat, I could tell most of these were pseudonyms or noms de whore, so I didn't pay much attention. Instead I unzipped my tight pants and hooked my thumbs in the hemlines of my panties and pants, slipping them off with a couple pops of my hips, leaving me standing in a puddle of denim. I walked over and planted a foot on the armrest of an occupied chair, presenting my chastity piercings to the crowd. Their leering turned to gasps and the man occupying the chair gaped at the drenched lace running between each ring. Despite being wound shut, but little pussy still made her hunger known. The man lunged forward to lick up my juices, but I cupped my pussy and wagged my finger with several tuts. I turned around and bent over, presenting my well used anus to the crowd. Their cheering and whistling made me smile and feel more steady. "Who's first?" I faced them with my hands on my hips. Tanaka-san's fleshy hands came down off my shoulders and cupped my breasts through my cardigan, pushing them up for the benefit of the other men. I unbuttoned the top and shed it as he tongued my ear. The thin white T-shirt underneath did not hide the color or shape of my nipples and Tanaka-san's tweaking of them was met with further enthusiasm by his friends. I squatted down, Tanaka-san's cock being the first I took into my mouth, my hand wrapping around the shaft as I fixed my lips around the crown and slurped. I teased his dickhole with my tongue, making little circles and figure eights. The rest of the men quickly shed whatever clothing remained and stepped closer, forming a tight circle around me. There were manhoods of every size and description jutting towards me, angry looking dicks and economy-sized peckers, eager cocks and a single pudd that reminded me of a platypus. I reached out and grabbed the closest, running my palm back and forth on the tight, full ballsack while softly moaning around Tanaka-san's dick. It was obvious the man I held wasn't the biggest, but that bother me. I broke away from Tanaka-san's cock, leaving a trail of saliva behind, and twisted my head lower to begin kissing the other man's balls. He croaked out an expression of pleasure I hadn't quite heard before; something like a cross between a satisfied grunt and an earnest prayer. It pleased me to know I pleased him so thoroughly. Before I could get too full of myself, a man behind him grabbed a handful of my hair, wrapping it around his dick and thrusted into it against my temple. He was embarrassingly short from what I could tell, but devilishly enthusiastic. The short cock quickly outgrew its deliberate pace and picked up steam like a runaway train, my pink hair feeling the friction of the oddball fuck just as he came. He splashed me with several watery drops along my forehead, a couple of which dribbled down my eyelids. The other men applauded as he stepped back. One of them lifted me by the hips as I continued my task of kissing and sucking the balls and dicks in front of me, exposing my bottom to the crowd. It came as a surprise when his wet tongue pressed up against my pucker and I whimpered in delight. It was good but he went from straight-forward licks to trying to stab his tongue up my ass in a flash. I had half a mind to relax my backdoor and let him. He stopped after a few moments, leaving my rosebud wet and winking, but apparently that was just foreplay: I felt a thick cock prodding my hole and I bit my lip in anticipation. I wasn't disappointed. The head of his dick pierced into me like a spear, stretching my pucker around its girth and making no apologies for it. My mouth sagged open and someone grabbed my hair before laying their cock on my tongue and thrusting forward. Another someone took my hand and wrapped my fingers around their dick, using my hand as a sex toy vigorously, before my brain caught up. I jerked my hand out of his and controlled the pace and tightness of my stroking of his cock. The buttfucker wasn't very patient or gentle. As his cock hit resistance, his go-to move was pulling back a bit and then plowing ahead even harder. Most other girls would've minded that a lot more than I did, but the pain scrambled into pleasure in my twisted, kinky brain. I bucked my hips back to invite more of him in. longing for the moment his jewels would begin pounding against my restrained cunt. I moaned around the dick in my mouth at the thought. However, not all dicks are created equal and my moaning made the dick between my lips to pop-off, splashing my face with bitter seed. Memories Can't Wait He slapped my face with his messy cock as he withdrew. The next man immediately stepped up to slide his cock in. This one was a bit thicker and I had to actually open my jaw to accommodate his girth comfortably. He was impatient though and thrust before I was fully open, causing my teeth to scrape along his length. "Open wider, whore." He grunted. I looked up at him as best I could, but he palmed my forehead and thrusted violently, forcing my tongue into an awkward position and causing me to gag. I wasn't terribly thrilled by it, but it did bring an additional surge of thick spit to my mouth, making the going much easier. That was welcome, especially when the man fucking my ass stepped up into high-gear, taking possession of my booty and squeezing into my soft flesh. He dug his fingers into my hips and powered his full length into me, his balls finally slapping against my piercings, eliciting a mewl from me and a howl from him. My clit raged, fully erect and unstimulated. My hips took a steady, slow roll, rotating my hole around his cock as I alternated between relaxing when he pushed and tightening when he withdrew, milking his dick with every thrust. He groaned in delight and I felt his balls pull up as his orgasm approached. Meanwhile, the man in my mouth quickly reached his own limit and laid his length fully into my mouth. Feeling my throat stretch was a thrill, but he did call me a bitch, so I rewarded him by teething the base of his cock as he came, turning his orgasm into something as torturous as it was liberating. His cry of release became a hiss of pain and he tried to push my head back, succeeding in forcing my teeth to drag along his shaft and scrape his sensitive glans before he was clear. I had just enough time to give him a wicked smile before his second shot of cum splattered against my face. It was quickly joined by another few splashes of cum, flying from the opposite direction as one of the bystanders blew his load all over my face. In spite of my my rather mercenary reason for coming, I found myself disappointed at having guys unloading without getting the chance to milk them myself. It was an odd feeling. Fortunately, the guy buttfucking me seized up and rammed himself deep a full second before he unloaded a fat wad of cum into my guts, panting like a hungry dog. I loved the deliciously dirty feeling of having my insides painted white by his lust. "More. I want more." I cried out. "What a lewd girl!" someone exclaimed from the back. I turned my head to see who, but a powerful hand took hold of my jaw and brought me face to face with a short, red and rather angry looking prick. I stuck out my tongue, but it remained just out of reach. The prick's owner spoke in a baritone voice, "You're right, Goto. This slut-pig can't get enough of it," before ramming his dick... I can't rightly say down my throat, as that would be ascribing more length than he possessed. A better way of putting it would be pounding the roof of my mouth and middle of my tongue, which he did with a gusto. Whatever he may have lacked in size, he more than made up for in enthusiasm and stage presence, holding my jaw with one hand and pushing my bangs out of my eyes with the other, all while maintaining a steady litany of spoken degradation, "You filthy, wanton slut; you can't get enough can you? Your soul has probably been stained with the disgusting seed of hundreds of men, hasn't it? Are you listening to me, whore? Have you no shame at all? Or do you exist only to feed off the lust of men?" The zealotry of his dirty talk did stagger my arousal a bit, but it kept my motor running until the next man stuffed my butt, a wet squelch announcing his backdoor entry. That dick displaced some of the previous man's cum, squirting some of it deeper into my insides. He was marginally bigger than his predecessor and the way he ever-so-slightly stretched my hole more was a welcome sensation. And since I was nice and loosened up, it wasn't any time at all before he was pounding at my guts like a man on fire. I didn't want either of them to stop and only reluctantly let the talker pull out of my mouth, a thick string of precum and spit dripping between us as he forced my mouth open and pumped his under-sized pecker furiously. I made sure to close my eyes that time and was rewarded with another bitter rope of sperm, hitting my upper lip before finding its mark and coating my tongue. His orgasm quickly petered out and he stepped away, laughing and calling me a disgusting tramp as I closed my mouth and gulped down his offering. It went on all night long, ending only an hour before sunrise. Every man had me at least twice and Tanaka-san got at least three rounds in, possibly more in my mouth after my eyes were glued shut by all the facials. I was taken every way imaginable; pulled into a sitting position and made to bounce up and down, on my back while the man who was railing my ass also sucked on my toes, in a hand-stand, flat on my stomach while a skinny bastard forced my legs together and whispered in my ear about how he wished I were his daughter before releasing the biggest load of all the men that night deep inside me, and kneeling on the bed as one weirdo tongued my armpit before fucking it. I came to with sunlight hitting my face and everyone - including Tanaka-san - gone from the room. I smelled like a teenager boy's cum rag and looked like I'd been through an explosion of donut glaze. But my chastity lace was still intact and my pussy therefore hadn't been touched. MY resulting disappointment surprised me. I idly picked at the lace as I considered what they could have done instead of respecting my wishes. The night had been good but but I still hadn't been brought to completion. Instead there remained the deep, gnawing hunger at the edge of my arousal. My growing irritation was sated after my much needed shower when I realized Tanaka-san had left me a massive tip. *** My vision has faded, my face is swelling up. My kicking has become labored and pathetic. The pain is killing my ability to think. Killing? I am dying. I don't even have the strength to claw at the tie anymore. I can only masturbate until the limpness seizes the farthest reaches of my extremities. The squelching that is produced by my fingers vigorously spearing my cunt is the soundtrack to my doom. I am going to die here and it may be days, weeks before anyone finds me, swinging from my chandelier in my schoolgirl uniform. I will turn into one of those grudge girls that everyone conflates with my country, haunting a bunch of poor fools who dare to enter this place. They might even make me a new Kuchisaka-onna, making wild claims about the victims I leave in my wake, inventing crude stories about the ways in which I taunt them before ending their life. That is all I will ever be to anyone. Why can't I stop fucking myself? It is funny, I guess. Will I know when I die or will it happen before I realize it? It feels like it has been forever already. So much time, months, years has flown by. How can death take so long? Why can't I stop fucking myself? My body slips a little. I am dangling now, hands and feet limp. I haven't cum. I can't even do that. What a colossal waste of time, all for nothing! And yet my cunt rages on. All the blood in my body must be there, feeding my drooling monster. She is always hungry and never satisfied. Everything I have done has been to feed her and it is still not enough. I wonder how my life would have been different had I been born with a cock... I can hear the cloth that is strangling me groan. The floor below me feels...closer. With my last remnants of strength, I try to crane my chin upward. I hit my head on something on the way down. *** The bar I was looking for was completely non-descript, a total hole in the wall about a fifteen minute walk east of Shinjuku station, in the infamous Ni-Chome area and simply called "Hard." I'd dyed my hair electric blue and shorn the sides, spiking it. Combined with my colorful arched eyebrows, lip and nose piercings, it gave me quite the standout appearance. My breasts were accentuated by a scandalously tight tube-top and my leather skirt sported an artificial bulge. My fishnet stockings and flak jacket were heavily studded and my black stilettos sported metal heels. Yes, I deliberately dressed up to look like butchy new-half. My striking appearance was fortunate, because I'd spent several minutes lost in the maze of Ni-Chome and only the fact that I was so distinct led the master-san of a nearby bar to say something, "Oy, girl, you look lost." I turned my head to tell him to fuck off, but the look on his face suggested he was only trying to be helpful and I softened my expression in turn, "Yes, yes I am, master-san. Do you know where the bar 'Hard' can be found?" The master-san, a short, middle-aged man with gaudy earrings and a goatee stroked his chin, eyeing me with lust tinged curiosity. "That place, eh? Around the corner and to the left; it's at the end of the alley." I smiled and thanked him, then followed his directions to the letter, practically falling inside the bar before I realized what it was. It was small even by Ni-Chome standards, serving maybe ten on a good night and there were only two men at the counter, while another sat at the furthest table, leaning back into the shadows with his face obscured. They all looked at me as I walked inside, the master-san eyeing me with an expression of surprise, "Are you lost, miss?" I took stock of the patrons; the one leaning against the counter wore a pair of chaps and little else, showing off a perfectly rounded bottom. I licked my lips and squeezed my bulge, imagining going for the gold deep in his ass. His companion in the seat next to him was a younger guy, head shaved, wearing a leather vest - showing off a nice set of pierced nipples - and tight, leather shorts that packaged goods that gave mine a run for their money. The last man, at the back table, was dressed conservatively, at least by the standards of a leather bar: a simple black t-shirt and biker cap, with side-stitched pants that looked about two sizes too small for his legs. "Miss?" The master-san's voice snapped me back and I quickly replied, "No, not lost. I am where I want to be." I didn't pay him any more attention as I slid into the seat next to the younger guy, "So, are you -" He rolled his eyes and stood, throwing down some money and whispering in his companion's ear as they both left. The master-san glowered at me, but said nothing while he gathered the money and dirty glasses. I felt a flash of embarrassment at the uncharacteristically open rejection. That's when the man in the back spoke up, "Their loss, you know." I turned around on the corner stool, leaning back on the bar. "Yeah?" The man in back uncrossed his arms and let his feet fall off the table, leaning forward with his hand on one knee, "Man, woman, what does it matter? They both have the right hole." A devilish smile spread across my lips. Just the man I was looking for. I spread my legs on the stool and leaned back against the counter, letting him see and hear the tight leather stretch, outlining my plastic cock. He licked his lips like a hungry cat and stood, his leather pants so tight I could see the outline of his cock running down his thigh. And what a cock it was, growing bigger in my view as he stepped from behind the table and confidently strode towards me. I expected him to take a seat next to me and motioned with my arm for him to sit. But he had other ideas, grabbing my wrist and pulling me off the stool, half-dragging, half-carrying me to the the place's only bathroom. I don't know what I was expecting from him exactly, but he slammed me face first into the scummy wall and yanking my skirt down to my ankles. I inhaled sharply. As he pressed my face against the cold wall tile, I saw arcing splatters of cum all over the wall, lines of semen dribbling down to pool on the floor. I wondered how many men all that cum used to belong to as his hot breath bathed my other cheek. He tore my fake cock and flung it across the room, eliciting a confused grunt from me. He slapped my bare ass and explored my laced cunt, picking at the fabric and rubbing around the leaked juices. "What an obscene thing, denying your cunt to the world." He tried to pull the rings apart, but the string stubbornly held on and I moaned in slight discomfort. After a bit of tugging, he seemingly gave up and focused on slapping my exposed cheeks. It was a surprise when he'd produced a pen knife from somewhere, lightly dragged the blade down my mons and cut the string, letting my chastity restraint butterfly open. I gasped, more in shock than any fear, and he used the opportunity to ram his tongue into my mouth. I could taste something vaguely like cum along with the usual spit and the thought of kissing a cocksucker excited me more than it should. I let his tongue run roughshod over mine, pressing it back and filling my mouth. My cunt was outrageously wet and plump, my nipples were poking through my tube top like bullets. Then I felt his cock. I realized that what I'd seen through his pants was just a teaser when he slid his full length between my thighs, forcing both my cheeks and my lips apart with its thickness. He was wielding a bona fide meatbat and there was absolutely no way in hell it would fit. It made me moan thinking about how he was going to try anyway. He was going to stretch me wider than any dick I'd ever had ever taken. He took hold of my throat, grabbing it tight to keep me in place while his other hand gathered lube from a suspiciously convenient bottle on the sink whose faucet was still running. His fingers were coarse and nothing like gentle, first roughly massaging my asshole before drilling a thick finger inside. Even with being something of a buttfuck queen it was uncomfortable, but I didn't go there for an easy fuck. I went to ruin holes. He added another finger and started working them in deeper, occasionally pulling out to gather more lube before shoving them back up my ass. My pussy was literally the leakiest thing in the bathroom by then and I started begging, "Please, give it to me, I want it bad, I wanna be skewered." He obliged me ruthlessly, working the crown of his dick right up against my tiny pucker and giving it a solid thrust for the first try. It didn't go in. I grunted and pounded my fist on the wall while he reset to try again, the next time a repeat of the first. Each time my hole refused to give way, bowing in until his cockhead pulled back without entry. It was a rough sort of frustration and I didn't know what to do. Yet he clearly had plenty of experience getting into reluctant holes and kept trying, grabbing more lube for his cock before making another pass. He pressed on, undeterred by my asshole and growled at me, "Spread yourself, both hands." My hands went to my cheeks, pulling them as far apart as they could manage, my face settling against the wall without their support. He aimed his cock patiently, rubbing the tip against my wet pucker. That felt pretty damned good on its own merits. Finally, he pushed again, this time steadily increasing the pressure. I didn't think it was working at first, but then a sort of mild burning overtook my hole, not quite painful, only... present. I realized that a fraction of his first fat inch was in and I inhaled sharply. That's when his hand around my throat closed up tight. It was quickly followed by his dick performing a maneuver more akin to a battering ram against a castle's gate than anything I had done to me during sex. I would have screamed if I could make a sound; as it was, his hand throttled my voice to nothing but a high-pitched whine just as his super-sized babymaker entered. The gate to Sodom had opened. He worked the first couple of inches in quickly, hardly sparing a moment to let me adjust to his size, but he backed off just as fast. My hole was slow to recover, thankfully and was still quite pliable when he charged back in. I was seeing stars the whole time, my butt throwing up all kinds of red flags to my brain, but somewhere in all that pain, wires were getting crossed. I was incredibly turned on, my abs seizing up in anticipation of each penetration, my pussy positively dripping with desire, my hands refusing to stop holding my ass spread for him. The ecstasy flowing through every centimeter of my body was inescapable, undeniable and overwhelming. I saw heaven and the stars when I shut my eyes. I was going to do what I hadn't be able to do in months. Orgasm. But for every climb, there is an equally great fall. Mine consisted of his hand leaving my throat just as the peak of pleasure was within grasp, the heavenly sensations leaving my body as I gulped down air by the mouthful. It left me abandoned, with only the discomfort of a huge cock buried up my ass for company and I let him know it, "Why did you let go?! Keep choking me, goddammit!" He kept buggering me as he chuckled, using both hands to hold my hips in place, "One of those types, eh? Should have guessed your tolerance would be a bit higher than most." The sheer girth had already stretched my ring beyond what I thought possible, so I kept my hands spreading my ass out of sheer self-preservation. Instead, I tried insults as a technique, "What, too afraid to squeeze a bitch's neck? Huh? Is that it, you faggot?" He reacted by shoving another few centimeters up my backdoor and holding himself there. I moaned like a wounded animal and that's when his hand struck again. This time the pleasurable asphyxia came not by fingers around my neck, but fingers crammed down my throat, filling my mouth with their rough thickness. I couldn't tell how many there were (definitely more than two) and it was so unexpected I didn't have time to take in air before he cut off my air supply. I could taste my myself on those fingers That suited me just fine as my visions of the hedonist's mountaintop returned, along with the feeling of orgasmic bliss approaching. His fingers went deep, to the back of my throat, leaving my mouth pried open as he continued to wreck my backdoor. There was no let-up, no slowing down... no mercy. My high pitched whines came fast and loud, despite the obstruction. I was practically overdosing on the drug of being savagely wrongholed. Then his hips collided against my ass, marking his full length inside me. He pumped large load after large load into me as my muscles seized up and my toes curled. We screamed and grunted together. My shaking intensified as I realized it was finally happening. My vision went white as I felt my guts overflow with his cum. *** I blink at the lights over head. My head hurts and they are so incredibly bright. I try to shield my eyes with my hand but something tugs at my wrist. I try to turn my head but a searing pain around my jaw stops me and I croak out in anguish. It persists for several seconds before subsiding to a sort of dull ache. I'm definitely not going to do that again, but I am willing to give rolling over a shot. Happily enough, that doesn't trigger any excruciating pain and I'm able to see my wrist restrained to a steel bedpost. Wait, what? Where am I? I look around hastily, ignoring the severe brightness of the lights for a few seconds. The room is all white and smells faintly of bleach and rubbing alcohol. I roll the other way and see my other wrist is left unshackled, but is sporting a finger monitor and an IV in my forearm. So I'm in a hospital, why? What was I doing that sent me to the hospital - oh. Oh... I am a fucking idiot. I'm the girl they think is a suicide risk when in reality I was just trying to get myself off without anyone else around. Using my free hand, I reach up to my neck and confirm the presence of ligature marks, feeling painfully sensitive even to the slightest touch.