0 comments/ 7295 views/ 3 favorites Yoko Ch. 01 By: Taunus Disclaimer: This story is science fiction, cast in the future. No resemblance to persons, places, or events is intended or should be inferred. ***** Yoko is a beautiful woman and a talented photographer and artist. Yoko's owner and master is a hoary old curmudgeon named Grunt. Grunt acquired Yoko as a settlement to a legal transaction. In his younger years Grunt was unsurpassed in the physics laboratory. His patent on induced proton decay should have given him the prize; however, a large corporation claimed prior discovery, in house development. It is a true statement and worthy of all men to be received that money talks and cash shouts. It is also true that no BDSM girl, regardless of her disposition, sooner or later will run away from a boring master. That ranks among the worst things a submissive girl can do...that is get bored. Grunt had a ritual for Yoko. Each and every morning without fail, he would awaken Yoko and order her to the Symbian. She would dutifully mount the cruel dildo and allow it to sexually arouse her. She had to cum in no less than one minute or more than two. Depending on her performance on the Symbian and her performance at the Sado-Macho Club would determine the number of bare bottom cane strokes she was to endure. The number was never less than two nor more than six. And so every morning would begin: Masturbation on the Symbian and caning on the caning chair. Following her morning caning Yoko would bathe, douche, and enema. After her multiple enemas she would have to insert an inflatable butt plug deep into her rectum. Once the bulb end was inflated the valve and pump would be removed; this ensured that the indwelling plug would remain inside her bowels, creating a general discomfiture. Sex was uncomfortable. This situation pleased Grunt, knowing that Yoko would have trouble satisfying a robust, lusty young lecher. Her inability to achieve an earth-shattering orgasm amused the club regulars. Here is one of the most gorgeous, gracious girls in the universe and inner pressure on her vagina from a butt plug rendered her frigid for the connoisseur. Yoko yearned to run away from the lecherous, lustful, lascivious, licentious Grunt. But things are complicated. Yoko was sold to a large corporation in a way of satisfying a multi-billion Euro deal. With a prior discovery patent and copyright, Grunt could tie up the energy process for decades. He could spend a lifetime in courts, he should live so long. Every day was the exact carbon footprint copy of another. Every day it was the Symbian, the caning chair, the toilet play, and work in the club either cooking and preparing food or serving. Yoko enjoyed the kitchen since those who work there wear an apron, loosely covering from neck to knees. Those serving were subject to groping, pinching, and being required to serve sexually. It seemed as if every day was a gray day, overcast and depressing. Life was boring enough without a truculent and contrary weather. No doubt the abysmal clouds were the result of global warming. But for a girl never able to venture into the grassy wold or practice her arts, it was intolerable. If only Master Grunt would use her himself, that would help break the trance of repetition. One day a cowboy chanced into the club and was immediately smitten with her perfect poses, elegant transitions, and flawless pirouettes. He was determined to have her, ignoring the caveats from the regular clubbers. They say that love is blind, but it can be stupid also. The cowboy's handle is "Rob." He works construction. In the past he has been a "roust about" in the oil fields, a sand hog in underwater tunneling, and a commercial construction person. He works in high rise construction now, never daunted by the wind or rain. Rob will negotiate scaffolding 300 feet high without a safety rope. "Safety harnesses are for pussies" he would exclaim. Yoko caught his eye and now he makes a daily stop to fill his coffee thermos at the club. The coffee was expensive but the atmosphere enlivened Rob's day. Flashing on a large screen were three minute video clips of the girls. Rob is too interested in the here-and-now to notice the vicarious clips of the girls. He should be advised to stop, look, and listen before becoming infatuated with Yoko. Behind the oriental beauty lurks a lecherous old curmudgeon and pornography monger, Grunt. On weekends Rob found enjoyment taking his evening meal at the club. It was expensive, but the serving girls made it worth the cost. The serving girls were all naked. After an order is delivered, the girl waits at the table while the guest eats. She stands, legs spread far apart and her hands behind her head, fingers interlocked. She expects to be touched, groped, pinched, or fondled. There was no secret among the girls that Rob was hot for Yoko. And he tipped well also. The market for high rise construction workers who were willing to work under hazardous conditions was strong. One day, while being served by another girl, not Yoko, Rob took notice of the streaming video bites. There were three minute segments for each of the dozen show girls who waitressed in the club. Yoko was featured in one of them. In her film clip she is awoken and hurried to the Symbian. Two minute minders are set, one for one minute and one for two minutes. The idea is that Yoko must masturbate and cum between the two chimes. She must climax and have a full sexual orgasm in not less than one minute nor more than two. She manages at a minute-and-a-half, and so avoids punishment by caning. The implication is that at some session, she would fail to climax in a timely manner. As she writhed and squirmed in her orgasm, the camera zoomed in to catch her orgasm face. In the next scene, Yoko appears on all fours with a quarter in willow can held by her teeth. She is prepared to beg for her morning caning. She is to be given no fewer than two strokes nor more than six. Yoko's morning caning is always the most degrading event in her day. She has to appear on all fours like a dog, holding a willow cane in her teeth. When the master takes the can, Yoko takes a position bent over a chair and begs to be beaten. As each stroke falls, she counts, thanks, and begs for more. Her comely supplications include such expressions as "pretty please" and "more please." She is humiliated as the master responds by saying that he is honored to grant her requests and fulfill her wishes as he strikes her bare bottom. She endures in silence save for her responses. Rob is both excited and disgusted with the film clips. Every thirty-six minutes Yoko's act is repeated. Yoko was being forced to give multiple blow jobs to the club's clientele one Saturday night when Rob came in to eat. The men treated Yoko brutally and Rob was growing angry and irritated. The club regulars realized the heat of the moment and worked to remove the spectacle to a private room. "Out of sight, out of mind," as the expression goes. Later, after having been used severely, Yoko was taken over to Rob. It was then that he learned of Yoko's master, Grunt. Grunt could restrict Yoko, should he be of such a mind. It was then also that Rob learned of Yoko's butt plug. He had noticed a flash of bright blue from between her ass cheeks before and was suspicious of it. Now he was prepared to confront Grunt and demand less cruel treatment of Yoko. Sensing a situation, the club closed early for the night and the masters took their serving girls and show girls home. The day to day operation of the Sado-Macho Club was under the guidance and control of Ching Ming, who is referred to as "the Tiger Lady." Rob makes an unusual visit to the club. "I've come to see what it would take for me to keep Yoko," Rob asks Ching. "The girls say that you are smitten by Yoko," Ching comments. "as far as girls go, on a one to ten scale Yoko is at least a 9.99. But she is owned by Grunt. And I'm sure that Grunt will never part with her. Grunt may be a dirty old man beset with health issues, but he is not about to part with Yoko. And don't even think of stealing Yoko." "But what if Yoko wants to leave?" Rob asks. "She was part and parcel of some business deal. The Yacusa have guaranteed her submission to Grunt." Ching explains. "Her trade to Grunt for some quit claims on the major energy system would cause concern and alarm at the highest level of big industry, the military industrial complex, and organized crime." "But she is wearing a butt plug!" Rob complains. "I just learned of its function and usage. And she was being gang-banged the other day. There is no way I can condone such behavior." Ching paused a moment then responded: "The masters bring their girls here to serve and earn money. Surely you've seen girls wearing collars, nipple clamps, chastity belts, and assorted other devices. Several are dressed as pony girls with a tail anchored in their assholes. And they wait at a table and tolerate all manner of use and abuse. It's all about pleasing a man. And there's no accounting for taste. Now a word to the wise: 'Grunt is a shipwreck of a human being. He is totally disabled; however, never underestimate a former sergeant in the U.S. Army Infantry. He is also a master at physics--I would hesitate before crossing him." Rob listens silently. He has little respect for the military; however, he does truly respect the individual solders. "For everyone's sake, you should avoid the club, Rob," Tiger Lady exhorts. Rob smolders under the caveat. Yet he knows that, should he persist, things would turn out badly. Like the bouncer says: "Don't go away mad, just go away." Rob sees the men there as parasites and weaklings. He would love to have a bare knuckles fight with any or all of them at three hundred feet and no safety net. Grunt has heard rumblings and rumors concerning Yoko and an unidentified male. He heard it through the grape vine that Yoko's admirer was dangerous and used to getting his way. He had voice mail on his answering machine to expect a visit soon from a Yacusa lawyer in the near future. This could bode no one good. Yoko Ch. 02 Disclaimer: This story is science fiction, cast in the future. No resemblance to persons, places, or events is intended or should be inferred. It was morning and Grunt goes to arouse Yoko from her straw pile bed and direct her to her Sybian. This is her daily routine: cum, be caned, bathe, douche, and enema. Only this morning is different. Yoko dares to complain. “Master,” she pleads, “not that boring old machine again.” Grunt frowns. “And I suppose you are bored with the willow cane and the bright blue butt plug as well?” Yoko nods and looks down at Grunt's feet, withered and ancient, scarred from endless infantry marches, and calloused. She has no idea of what to expect. Grunt twists and turns around. “Fix breakfast for me girl,” he commands. Yoko hurries to prepare something for him. She expects to be transported to the Sado-Macho Club to work, but Grunt ignores her and reads the news from the Internet. After a while he tells Yoko to get dressed in her finest silks. “We are expecting company shortly, Yoko. Fix yourself.” They wait. After about an hour there is a knock on the door. The doorbell was untouched. Three strong raps and no more. Yoko looks to Grunt who says: “Open the door and greet our visitors Yoko.” Two burly bullies stand at the door. Grunt sighs. He has a pet peeve: overweight men in expensive suits. He considers them better dressed as farmers in denim coveralls. “Do come in,” Grunt speaks. They momentarily consider removing their black patent leather tuxedo shoes, but decide against it and enter. Grunt sits and asks them to be seated. He then asks them to tell Yoko their choice of coffee, tea, or other beverage. They decline. The first thug speaks. “We are here to ensure that our protocols with you are firm, Grunt.” The thug clearly is unused to dealing with intelligent academicians. Yoko kneels silently in the background. “What would give you cause to think otherwise?” Grunt answers a question with a question. The thugs are unfamiliar with such language; most of their visits deal with collecting gambling debts. “This is not our call, Sir,” the second thug replies. Grunt feels bad about how uncomfortable the men must feel, out of their element and wearing clothes that are both expensive and ill-fitting. Grunt smiles furtively at the two. Then he narrows his eyebrows. “I am an octogenarian and a former sergeant in the U.S. Army Infantry. Do not worry about my sensibilities, gentlemen,” Grunt interjects. The two were even more ill-at-ease than before. They both try to speak at the same time and then fall silent while groping for a suitable response. “Are you satisfied with your girl?” Number One asks. “The boss is obliged to ensure that you will cause no patent problems. He knows that you have some prior discover published works, albeit they are theoretical. But you have the capacity to make mischief in the courts.” “Whatever gave your 'boss' such an idea?” Grunt asks. “We are here to make sure that there is no problem. Girls are expendables.” Number Two adds. “I have had the use of Yoko for some time now,” Grunt comments. “I am an octogenarian with Parkinson's disease. If she is not my care giver, then maybe I should have a gynoid to serve my needs.” There is a plethora of drugs, medicines, elixirs, potions, and concoctions to treat the symptoms of Parkinson's disease, but there is not nor has there ever been any way to treat, cure, or arrest the underlying disease. It is irreversible, progressive, and incurable. There comes a time in every patient ceases to be ambulatory. Such images are prohibited on television. Number One fidgets and finally speaks: “We take this girl and bring you another as a 'loaner.' Then we examine this girl and see if she can be re-trained. It would be a tragedy to have her run away. A serious situation should she go to the authorities; an extremely serious situation should she tell her tale to the news media investigative reporters.” Number Two nods agreement and looks to the girl. She is visibly shaken at the prospect of “re-training” by professionals of the Yacusa. Grunt sighs. It is clear that the two have no intention leaving empty handed. The only question in Grunts mind is whether or not they intend leaving with him dead. He shrugs off that scenario as improbable at the moment. For sure his advanced home security would record the event or, at least, issue some caveat to the perpetrators. The two burly goons escort Yoko from Grunt's habitat. On the street they pass by Rob, who was en route to see Grunt about gaining ownership of Yoko. It is clear that this is the only moment for action. Once in a car, her fate would be fixed. Rob picks up a stone from the gutter and hurls it, striking Number Two squarely on the back of his head and incapacitates him. Yoko realizes the opportunity and kicks Number One squarely in his nuts, slowing him significantly. Rob quickly knocks Number One unconscious, removes their firearms, cell phones, and makes off with Yoko. They round the block and enter Rob's pick up truck, leaving the scene by merging into traffic. Rob and Yoko arrive at Rob's apartment glad to have escaped alive. Yoko was fascinated at the world outside of Grunt's home and the Sado-Macho Club. She was also acutely aware of the cramping in her large bowels. She was used to daily enemas. Once in the apartment, Yoko went to the bathroom and with much effort was finally able to defecate. With the bolus removed from her rectum she felt a sensation of comfort in her vagina. For months, years Yoko had been obliged to suffer the discomfiture of an inflatable bulb in her rectum when attempting vaginal sex. She threw herself wantonly at Rob, who reciprocated equally. They climaxed together in an earth-shattering orgasm that left the two exhausted. The two are lying side-by-side when a cell phone rings. It is on one of the cell phones Rob acquired from the Yacusa thugs. Grunt is the caller. He is in bad shape: black eyes, swollen nose, blue jaw, split lip, several teeth knocked out, and his right ear cut off. He warns Yoko and Rob. “Two goons busted into my apartment demanding that I tell where to find your admirer, Rob? Like I even knew his name! They were starting to dismember me when my phone rings with a call from the boss of the Yacusa. He scolds them and tells them to leave at once. Major General Treadwear contacted him via the black Internet to explain what damage would be done should the published abstract of my prior discovery come to light. He also indicated that a black ops wetware unit is scheduled to arrive in six minutes and if Number One and Two were lucky they would be killed outright. They had to admit the loss of cell phones and pistols. I got the cell phone number you are using from General Treadwear's telephone header. It turns out that robust security captured the break in and interrogation. Number One and Number Two are in a world of shit if Yoko gets to CNN or some investigative reporter. It will only be a short time until the Yacusa bring in some additional assets and talk to Ching at the Sado-Macho Club. For sure she will give up credit card, car info, and address. Don't go home, get on the highway. Don't use plastic. Lose the pistols and cell phones and good luck.” Grunt is silent as the first responders arrive. He is taken to the hospital for treatment and “seclusion.” His silence is not cheap; the sex slave girl Yoko was leverage. Rob and Yoko speed out of the apartment just as Larry, Rob's roommate and his girl Yi arrive. Rob turns out and sees two black limousines pull up to his apartment and four burly cretins emerge, with shotguns. Rob realizes that Larry and Yi might easily be mistaken for him and Yoko. And it comes to pass that is exactly what transpired. After Number Three and Number Four have wacked Larry and Yi, Number One tells the two that they have just wacked the wrong couple. Now everyone is in trouble. Before Numbers One, Two, Three, and Four can assest their situation heavily armored vehicles pull up and six black ops fighters emerge in full body armor and heavy weapons. The Yacusa thugs surrender immediately. They know that the lawyers will have them out in hours. What the boss will do with them is another matter. Yoko Ch. 03 Disclaimer: This story is science fiction, cast in the future. No resemblance to persons, places, or events is intended or should be inferred. ***** The old Ford pickup truck rumbled down the highway carrying an unlikely pair from a surreal scene of control, science, power, money, and depravity. One might ask how some senile old fool could come to own a gorgeous, beautiful, intelligent, and artistic woman? The answer is one word: "Energy." The penultimate and quintessential source of energy is not from a star's fusion phenomenon, not from a controlled chain reaction of fission, and certainly not from fossil fuels. The working mechanism is a huge block of titanium alloy incarcerating protons which are subjected to bombardment with electrons traveling at precisely 0.592 c, where c is the speed of light in free space. The result is a plasma inducing proton decay. The number 0.592 c was first published in a secondary science journal by Grunt. Of course his handle is Grunt, hiding his true identity from ridicule, sarcasm, and scorn. Since publication it has become his first life identity. "How did you come to belong to that hoary old curmudgeon, Grunt, anyway Yoko?" Rob asks. Rob clicks on the GPS and the female voice asks destination. Rob says "Campground" and the female voice begins giving directions. "Why does every male ask the same question?" Yoko retorts. "That same question and then a line or two about tits and ass." Yoko is mildly surprised at how shallow Rob is. She is also aware that he is no mere worker at a construction site. He is an acrobat and a fighter. For sure he gets whatever he sets his mind to, and now his mind is set on Yoko. And for her part also, Yoko is in lust with Rob. Yoko can not help but notice all the camping gear in the back of Rob's pick up truck. Obviously he is an "outdoors man" in his free time. That is, when he's not feasting his eyes on Yoko at the Sado-Macho Club. The fact that infatuation is short lived encourages Yoko to firm up her bond with Rob. Obviously he is not aware of the danger that they are obliged to endure. Ayn Rand summed it up well for vidiots and Internet addicts when she said: "You can ignore reality, but you can't ignore the consequences of ignoring reality." With that in mind, Yoko, put Rob to the question. "You know those two thugs that were escorting me away, Rob?" She asks. "Yeah," Rob replies. "They looked like the mob to me." "I have to tell you," Yoko explains, "they are only the tip of the iceberg. Stay with me and, like a video game, you will run out of lives sooner or later." Yoko knows that the video game analogy is necessary to reach Rob's level of comprehension. What would seem like a fascinating fantasy to most role players is soon to become reality for the couple. They pull into a camp site. It is almost noon and Rob assembles a small propane cook stove and opens a large can of spaghetti with meat sauce. This is hardly that Yoko was used to: fish and rice, with sides of gluten-and-dairy free eats. Still the open air thrills Yoko. "You need to put on some other clothes. Run around here in slave silks will only bring unwanted attention." Rob warns. Yoko nods agreement and looks around. Rob digs around in the back of his truck and comes up with some jogging clothes. "There is a thrift store down the road a mile or two. You can pick up some blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a shirt there, Yoko," he informs her. After they had filled their stomachs with canned spaghetti, Rob brewed up some fresh ground coffee. Yoko was always curious about the taste of the brew, but girls were permitted only to drink water or juice. It was bitter and Yoko made a face. Rob added some cream and sugar. "I like mine black," Rob remarked, "Airborne Style." He smiled. The military comment was lost on Yoko. At the church-run thrift store, named after a saint: Judas Iscariot. The duo picked up some necessities. The idea of dressing like some of the teens from a nearby school somehow seemed exciting to Yoko. She used the toilet at the thrift store to try on blue jeans until she got the perfect fit. On the way back to the camp site, Yoko could not help but notice his wallet; he was carrying a wad of currency of large denomination banknotes. "Is Master going to buy a girl?" Yoko joked. It is true that many true words are spoken in jest. Rob made a twisted smile. "We need a nap," Rob suggests, "a 'siesta' even." The morning had been exhausting. To be continued.