0 comments/ 11554 views/ 2 favorites Oyasi: Cock Hungry and Deadly By: cowboy109 Kawaii, cuteness in Japanese culture, is literally translated to adorable, precious, lovable, or innocent. Lolita fashion, a Japanese fashion subculture, combines Victorian clothing from the Rococo period with gothic elements. The Lolita look consists of high heel/platform shoes, stockings, a bell shaped knee length skirt/dress, blouse/petticoat, and a fancy hair dress. Punk Lolita, a style of Lolita fashion, employs tattered clothing, fishnet stockings, safety pins, and plaid. The key to the style is in the layering of fabrics. Confused? Just take a look at me, Tamiko, the 21 year old, Japanese girl. I am the one standing on the right. My cousin Chokichi, next to me, is smiling with his teeth shining and eyes squinting. He is wearing a shiny new suit. On the far side is Kaiko, my older sister. She is wearing Gothic Lolita style. In front of us, with my sister's camera, is the conductor in his stiff and sharp uniform. His face behind the camera is smiling and showing too much enthusiasm. He clearly fantasizes about young, good looking ones like us. So take a look at me, while the conductor still waves for us to adjust our poses and counts down to the shot. My boots are over the calf. The shiny white patent leather contrasts with the black shoe strings that create neat triangles going up the boot. The boot, of course, is oversized. They create a powerful feeling of being able to stomp over anything, including men. The platforms and high heels make it a bit wobbly to walk. Over the knee socks lurk out of the boots. The left one is striped black and white. The right one is stripped black and red. A fishnet covers them both. Above the socks is a stretch of nude thigh skin. My thighs are, of course, stubby, like any short Japanese girl's. I am five feet two inches. The black skirt stands out in a bell shape. That leaves plenty of free air space under my hips. Every time that the train door opens at a stop, the cool fall air is swirling a memory of rainy train platforms and fallen golden leaves under my bare thighs. A thick white leather belt with metal studs hangs around my hips. Fine, little chains hang from one stud to the next in a u-shape. The top is a black blouse with white pattern stitching. The elbows are bare skin. The forearms and wrists are clad in a black and white tube. If you are a guy, you are probably bored by now by all the girly fashion stuff. Chokichi only cared for the leather choker around my neck with the chain that hangs down the middle of my chest. Around my belly button is a ring sized for a middle finger. He tried leading me around the train for the first half hour of the ride. I kept smacking him to make him stop. Kaiko only giggled at my exasperated face. Snap -- the picture was finally taken. "Bye, bye, pervy condi," called Kaiko with an overly sweet smile. Her raising cheeks and squinting eyes made it impossible to talk sweet and see at the same time. The train conductor walked down the train car still facing us and bowing. Every moment that he could spend with us young ones was precious for the slightly gray heard man. "Onsen party is the phattest party of the year. The band 'Blood is the New Black' will play. All the hottest boys and girls will party. There are not rules. The party is on land administered by the Aino People. That's a native tribe from before Japanese people had arrived in Japan. They don't care. The party location, a hot spring is too far up the mountain for them to bother patrol," said Chokichi to me. It was the first year that I was old enough to go. Kaiko led the way into the next train compartment. The train had new and firm upholstery on the benches. Shiny metal poles stood near the next and were everywhere else along the ceiling. I followed curiously looking. The next train compartment was a fashion smorgasboard of other young people traveling to Hokkaido, Japan's second largest island. The windows on the outside were black, because we were traveling 700 feet below the seabed. Any moment, we were going to surface on Hokkaido. That would be my first time. My eyes flurried everywhere. A girl had screaming pink hair. The hair was shaped into straight dagger like strands that covered her face hair line to chin. Beneath the veil of hair, she had a metal mask with spikes. Her eyes had purple and black makeup lines that made her look even more intense. Another girl had two inch long butterfly wings attached to her eye lashes. Neon pink dots covered the butterfly wings. The dots contrasted lovely with the poison green wig. Her lips were painted with pink lip stick to exaggerate the curves of the lips. Her true almost skin colored lips made it easy for the bright pink to create an illusion. Only tracing her lips carefully made the trick visible. Two girls reclined aloof of the crowd to twirl pink mini vinyl sun umbrellas. They were dressed exactly the same in cute Lolita outfits with skirts, large high heel boots, and a hundred details of zippers, buttons, and embroidery. The guys tried to draw attention by playing music from small speakers and passing little artisan crafted liquor bottles around. Some of them also dressed in costumes. Others had spiky hair and sharp suits. The regular people of the commuter train had fled in discomfort. "Kon Ni chi Wa" and "Ha ji Me Ma Shi Te" were exchanged. Puckered girl lips kissed the air, while cheeks softly touched. Cutesy, Japanese eyes smiled at each other with overacted friendliness. Crass guys insisted on drinking shots out of bottle caps. I took shot. My neck tilted back with heft. The guys raised the fists and their mouth drew wide open to cheer. Eager for the same praise, the next girl waved her little hand to get a bottle cap full as well. When the train ran into the final station, police lined up along the train. Row by row, they stood in neat uniforms. Their faces talked of a middle class life and earnest dedication to execute their orders. They formed tight ranks for the festival goers to stream straight to the transit buses without wreaking havoc on the city. Plainly dressed older women paused to look over the wall of police officer at the parade of youth culture from the centers of Japan, Tokyo, Yokohama, and Oasko. The buses were bouncy. The tires were black and uncovered. The paint had peeled. The springs in the seats lowered a foot down. The prefecture had retired the buses for junk yard recycling. The young party organizers had been excited about the deal. We went to the back of the bus. In front of me was an ocean of colorful hair and head coverings. Blues, reds, and greens were popular for hair. Victoria miniature hats were popular as well. An animated guy, about 23 years old, stood in the aisle in the front of the bus. His hair was read and poured over his head like a layered mushroom. He had a black wool coat with many buttons. In his hand, he held a black box with two red wires, and bronze colored electrodes. "Onsen gameshow, come play. I put two wires in your nostril. And, then I shock. The contestant that takes the highest level shock wins. Each side of the bus is one team." A guy with a wide body and thick short hair raised his fist into the air. Ten seconds later, he had two bronze electrodes in his nostril. He was breathing dramatically pressed air. His body leaned forward. The bus chanted "Jiro, Jiro, Jiro." The host wannabe dialed the box to level 2. A click sounded that even I could hear faintly at the back of the bus. After a second of motionless pause, the contestant screamed in victory. The two girls behind the guy got especially excited and bounced high on their seats. He kept pointing the thumb up to receive higher level shock after the next, until he was lying on the floor with a pain torn face. He was waiting for the nose to start feeling normal again. The bus crowd cheered and laughed, while the rain soaked autumn trees of the national forest past by. The contestant of the other side was skinnier and lost two levels too low. As punishment, the first contestant got to sit on the face of the loser. Every bump in the road made the seat bounce a foot down. The bus crowd cheered at the dilemma of the loser sinking under the winner's ass. By the time the contest reached me in the back of the bus, the rules had changed. Girls received the electrodes against their nipples under the clothes. My competitor was a girl with long black natural hair. Her hair was hanging down the side of her face. The rest was twirled in a bun behind her face. She wore a long black skirt and only a python skin tube bra that showed bottom cleavage. Her upper arm had spiral metal ring. She looked like a female sexy Ali Baba. The first electric zaps had a gentle tingling. If anything, it felt strange like biting on aluminum foil. I giggled with excitement as all the faces were looking my way laughing and cheering. I lifted my body a little more erect and showed the okay with my fingers. The next shock took my breath away. It wasn't exactly a feeling. It was a stunning jolt that left me unsure to what had happened. The game host called something out at my baffled open face. My sister had gone one level higher. I gave the okay. The game host's fingers felt my nipples under my clothes. His smooth fingers touched my gentle nipples. The pointed electrodes pushed against my nipples. The game host counted down. I shook my hands rapidly to dissipate anxiety. Zing -- I jumped up to stand on the bus seat. I felt like my chest had been slapped with a leather belt. I held my nipples to let them cool down. The bus crowd was cheering with waving arms. "Tamiko is the winner," cheered the self appointed game host. He held up my arm straight overhead. Chokichi and Kaiko gave me the thumbs up. The Ali Baba like dressed girl lay down on her back with an upset face. Her nostrils were raised up. Then, I sat down on her face. At first, it was purely mechanical. I lowered my skirt over her face. A moment later, I became aware of the smooth light purple panties that I was wearing. I noticed her nose pushing against my sex. The bus crowed anticipated every bounce that would send my butt down on her face with the worn out upholstery. The girl under my ass was naughty. Her tongue licked my beneath with tiny little at like lips. She taunted me. I got up. The bus shortly arrived at a makeshift clearing in the forest. Heavy bus tire had destroyed the grass and small bushes. The lot was turned into a parking lot. Pine trees stood tall and green, when we stepped out into the moist soil. Our shiny sparkling clean shoes had to step through heavy bus tire tracks. The profile of the tires was clearly visible in the pliable dirt. The contrast of crisp new clothing and the outdoor dirt became only stronger, when we ascended a trail up the rugged mountain. Platform patent leather boots had mud spots on them. Occasionally little brown mud spots were found all over people's costumes. The rare girl had fallen with a knee covered in a mud circle. Tears were in her eyes for the ruined clothes before the festival. The trail was a fashion challenge with the rocks, tree roots, and dirt in between. Yet, the air was exhilarating fresh and tasty. An hour in, sprinkles of snow began next to the trail. The trail itself remained snow free from the hundreds of feet stomping along. Farther, a thin snow blanket formed. The trees were already bare for winter at the higher elevation. The fashionably dressed crowd froze on exposed knees and sweated in the back from the steep incline. The party atmosphere drowned into a little core of knowing expectation held close to their heart. Finally, they had arrived. The first tall black sound stage had a band of five playing upbeat music to a small dancing circle. Nestled among the trees were overhead gas heaters. New arrivers clumped beneath them to warm up. From the warmth of a gas heater, I could see that around me were a lot of forest trees, little rock piles, and the like. Every open space had a sound stage, gas heater, food stand, or other surprise waiting. Trees were decorated with painting and colorful objects hanging from them. There were so many choices of either joining the house music crowd with their upbeat bouncing around or the punk crowd with their intensely emotional music. Of course, the specialty of the onsen party was the hot spring. Multiple pools of natural hot water invited for swimming. The monkeys, the year round landlords of the hot spring, had to be treated carefully and respectful to protect them. Yet, the people needed more protection from the ever stealing monkeys. They loved candy and shiny toys. They'd swoop from above onto the unsuspecting and be off, before one realized what had happened. And, the monkeys thought nothing of darting into the middle of a crowd. Among all the stylish party goers in cute costumes with laborious details was one girl completely in the buff. She moved noticeably slower than everyone else. She didn't look around her to take in all the sights. In slow seductive motions, she glided towards her goal. Watching her was mesmerizing. "Kaiko, what is wrong with that girl?" I asked my sister. "She is pretending to be the onsen oyasi. The Aino people, the native tribe here, believe that every thing has a spirit, ghost, or demon. They call them oyasi. A bear has an oyasi. A lake has an oyasi. This hotspring has an onsen oyasi. This onsen oyasi is supposed to be a naked girl with magical powers. Every year a few crazy girls pretend to be onsen oyasis. Tradition says that every boy has to obey every with of an onsen oyasi. Some boys do and some boys don't." I was intrigued. I followed her at a safe distance. What would she do? What would that crazy girl be like? I had seen crazy girls flashed boys under the table in fast food restaurants. Supposedly, some girls tried to kiss their dentist, when he had to come close to look inside their mouth. What would a crazy girl at a part with no laws do? Soft steam came off her skin in the cool forest temperatures. She followed a path higher. We passed a stand with tasty looking ramen soup that I wanted to go back to later. We passed a stage with a Japanese hip hop band. There were less party goers and more organizers setting up, as we ventured to the edge of the festival. I kept following the perfect buns. The naked girl stepped around a large tree and out of sight. I quickly caught my steps across the maze of tree roots to avoid losing her. She stood right behind the tree. Her green eyes with yellow around the green looked directly at me. "Tamiko, how wonderful to see you." "How do you know my name? Did Kaiko tell you to play mischief with me?" "I know your name, because I summoned you here." "Haha, very cute, onsen oyasi." "My name is Aiko. Come take a bath with me." "Is this the women's section? I didn't bring my bathing suit." "Tamiko, look around you. We are alone. Nobody will disturb us here." "Okay." I peeled myself out of the clothes that I had neatly put on. When I was down to my lightly purple panties and bra, I paused for a moment. The material of the underwear was very soft and thing. The air was chilly. Aiko was already submersed in the hot pool of water among big rocks. Clouds of steam hung above the water. A few monkeys with gray fur and fiery red phases hung out on the other side of the pool. Snow crested on rocks not too far away. When I stepped into the water, the heat was at first painfully hot. Letting the water rise up my bare legs was like stepping through a wall. The idyllic, dreamy face of Aiko encouraged me to move on. Standing on tippy toes, letting my bum and sex lower into the water was a heavy barrier of courage. I let the hot water sting my skin. Soft sweat clouds had collected on my forehead, when Aiko embraced me softly with her arms. I felt her smooth skin intimately holding me. Her breasts pushed against my back unabashed. She pulled me closer into the center of the hot spring. Soon, my boobs submerged into the water. My thoughts were on pause. The blood was rushing to my skin to move the heat. Tingling was all over. I thought I had felt a wet kiss from Aiko's lips on my neck. All the body contact made it hard to identify. Her body was wrapped around mine from behind. Occasionally, her knees bumped into my legs from behind as we moved through the blissful water. I felt like re-entering a womb like state from the soft caress of the water. Aiko's movements and touch were very caring and sensual at the same time. It made it hard to deny her little maneuvers of moving me around the hot spring. Her hands changed around my body. She touched my boobs without hesitation to lift me a little to the side. Boundaries were blurred. When she turned around and kissed my lips with a wide open mouth, I protested: "I am not a lesbian. I don't know you." "This is the onsen party. There are no laws. I am the oyasi, you must obey my wishes." I thought about it for a moment, while her tongue explored my mouth. Her tongue was a strong bendy muscle deep between my teeth. I was curious about her. I glided my tongue along her teeth. They felt like ivory guardians. I tasted the underside of her tongue. The saliva was sweater here. I felt her tongue. The upper side of the tongue was a bit rougher. Did the little contact at the mouth also make her whole body feel so good? Feeling permitted as she kissed me, I explored her large round tits. Mine were always small. They felt like a flat brief case rather than a ball. Hers were round and had a bouncy feel. She twiddled my nipples in a sexual and confident way. I was the unprepared lint licker. "This is just party crazy, right? We are not going to have sex," I asked with a worried tone. "Just onsen party crazy. There are no laws," breathed Aiko back in a sultry voice. Then her head disappeared in the water. Her tongue reappeared at my clitoris. In air, there is a slight moment advance warning before being touched. We can feel the warm air that envelops bodies. Under water, the touch is sudden without forewarning. The constant caress makes it harder to make out subtle caresses from another person. So immediately, there was a good pressure and tongue flicking at my clitoris. Her arms wrapped around my thighs to keep under water. I didn't know what turned me on more, her body wriggling against my thighs to stay under or her mouthing of my clitoris. "Okay, you gave me lip kisses, I will kiss you back," I replied. Aiko pulled herself back onto a smooth boulder. Her back was arched across the boulder. Her pussy was slightly above the water. She had almost no hair and then only thin hair, as we Japanese have. Her labia were small and neat. I moved forward through the resistence of the hot water. My hot lips sunk onto her sex. My tongue glided in between her vagina lips, as if they belonged. Everything was so smooth and neat about her sex. A soft taste of almost strawberry pineapple covered her. I lapped my tongue up with extra pressure, when I reached her clitoris. Aiko's body had a smooth belly with lines visible of her abdominal muscles. Her skin was flawlessly white. Her breasts were naturally and dispersed into a small mound on her chest, because she reclined. Soft moans and high pitched shrieks escaped her mouth as I licked her. It felt odd to lick another girl's vagina for the first time. Yet, I really liked her response to it. "I want to feel you," breathed Aiko. Her voice was heavy with sexual tension. She repeated herself again. I let her guide me however she wanted. I was new to this. Soon, our legs scissored each other, so that our pussies could touch. I was a little turned on not a lot. At first, I felt awkward about tilting my pelvis to rub my vaginal lips, clitoris, and pubic bone against her. However, her body was so electric with moans, tension, and twitches that I really want to be part of it. I wanted to drive her more. So, half my pussy strokes were meant to incite more pleasure in her. Yet, as I got into the pussy rubbing, I increasingly pushed in ways to feel my own pleasure buttons pushed. Oyasi: Cock Hungry and Deadly The starting vaginal farts were awkward. Apparently, our pussy lubrication had created vacuums. I tried to pull away. I couldn't. Her pussy was like a plunger stuck to mine. Aiko told me to calm down and go with it. I tried to get away. Yet, her pussy only started sucking harder on mine. I could feel all the vaginal secretion of my inside being sucked into her. A very dry feeling was left inside of me. "I told you I am the onsen oyasi. I feed on sexual nectar. You are my delicate flower. Tonight, I will fly from festival goer to festival goer and feast." Those were the last words from Aiko before I lost consciousness. When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital bed. I was under white bed sheets. I wore a hospital gown with a pattern of tiny blue flowers. All the oxygen pipes and cables for monitors were behind me. My finger had a pulse monitor attached to it. Round discs on my chest monitored my heart. Chokichi and Kaiko were at my bed side holding my hand. A nurse with an actual red cross on her headdress counted pills on a tablet. "Tamiko, thank god, you are awake! We worried about you. A couple searching for a hidden hot spring pool found you a mile away from the concert. You were completely naked lying on rocks. Thank god, you are awake," said Chokichi. "What happened?" asked Kaiko. "I don't know. I was following that naked girl, the onsen oyasi. We went for a swim in a hot spring. I think there was some kissing. And, then I passed out," I replied. "Oh, Tamiko-chan, you have to be very strong. You don't realize what has happened to you," sighted Kaiko. "Is there something wrong with me? I can feel my hands and arms," I replied. "Oh, Tamiko-chan, your face has aged. You look much older now," Kaiko said with a face torn by pain, as if she were near the breaking point. With the help of a mirror, I could see my face. Rather than a 19 year old, my face looked 40 years old. The doctors had no explanation how someone could age within a day so much. After scratching their heads, they suggested that stress can do more than we think. The rest of the day involved getting rolled around in a blue fake leather wheel chair. The middle butt cleft stuck to the plastic of the chair. The back of the almost knee long gown was open. Only a couple strings at the back could have held the hospital gown together. I couldn't reach them. And, most nurses and doctors were too lazy to close them. Submitting to semi-nakedness was one of the many ways that one gets mentally subjugated to follow orders and indignities without resistance. The doctor with the white coat, the deep furrows of a sixty year old, and seriousness of a Japanese was preparing the screen for an ultrasound. I lay on a slightly inclined hospital table. The table was shortened to fit into the small room. So, the table only reached my knees. My calves were dangling off the table. My hands held onto the edge of the table. The doctor raised the lower part of my gown unceremoniously to expose my belly. When he realized my naked sex, he paused and said "oh." While he looked at the nurse with the blue nitrile gloves, I blushed. I tried to ignore him. I tried to look at the shelves with the boxes of gloves, swabs, and towels. I felt the yellow light from the aged ceiling shine down on my nether regions. After starring another two seconds at my vagina, the doctor pressed his lips together, "Ah, we should probably talk about menopause. You are getting to the age, where you will feel changes in your body." Then, he continued ignoring the exposure to put the ultrasound sensor against my belly. He smeared the cold lubricant across my belly. After many ah's, exclamations and squints into the monitor, he explained that all my internal organs were at age 40. My entire body had aged twenty years in one night. The hospital discharged me into the car of Chokichi and Kaiko. On the way home in the train, we had to discuss on how to continue my life. As odd and unexplained as it was, my body was forty years old, yet my life was still at the stage of a twenty year old. I had another year of college to finish. The big question was should I start over at a new college. I would be able to pretend that I am forty years old and started college late. Or, should I chance to deal with the odd reactions of my current classmates. In the end, it seemed like better strategy to keep the familiarity of my current college. We hoped for the best that my classmates would support me. Luckily, the first day back was a visit to a local museum. That way, I could deal with the odd reactions without having to pay attention to class. This would let me focus completely at getting comfortable. Everyone was polite. They greeted me. Yet, they stood away from me. It was like being an adult had put a barrier on between us. They no longer shared silly secrets. Instead of Tamiko-chan, they called me Tamiko-san. What was I supposed to do? I stayed calm. The museum docent did most of the talking anyway. After an hour of standing and making two steps to the next painting, the legs became very tired. The femur dug itself deeply into the hip socket. The museum was very nice with labels and bit walls to present the master pieces. The docent was very earnest about checking his little note cards to tell us every single fact. Yet, the mind simply got drowsy from standing. My eyes would zone out the docent and only run loops along the ornamental golden painting frames. The next time that I shifted my weight onto the other leg, I bumped my butt into Daishiro. He had stood behind me. The neat school uniform of slack pants and a jacket was worn around the edges and had lost its sharp look. The top shirt button was undone in defiance. For some reasons, my thoughts spewed images of perverts in the crowded rush hour subway pushing their loins against young girls' behinds. There was always the pretense of the crowded subway, yet the men knew what they were doing. They were frotteurs. Perhaps, those images shot across my mind, because I was so sleepy at the cross path between awake and dreaming. That explains for what happened next. My mind was intrigued with what Daishiro's penis would feel like in my hands. I vaguely remembered that doing such a thing would be inappropriate. Yet, another thought question: "What really? What makes it inappropriate? I can see his penis in my mind's eye nestled in his panties. It is only inches away from my hands. So easy to reach..." Out of an odd impulse, I reached my hands behind my back. I pretended that I was crossing my hands to rest them. After that movement, everything went on automatic. I lifted my hands. I felt his white shirt. The shirt opening guided my fingers down. The pant top with the belt was the hard membrane that I had to push through. My finger nails quickly poked the penis head. My fingers worked their way in the flat pressed space to wrap around the flaccid penis. A soft male voice whispered, "Tamiko." My fingers held fast around his penis to get the full impression of it into my hand, like a sponge pad takes the impression of a key before duplicating it. Then, my hands followed down to feel his balls. He was wearing loose shorts. There was a lot of space opening beneath. I pinched him beneath the penis head between my index and forefinger. Then, I pulled up his entire penis by the penis head before I started stroking him down. It became an obsession to knead his penis in different ways. It was kind of like unrolling a paper clip and bending it in a million different ways before the tiny wires break from being bent too often. Only his penis didn't break. It was a small five inch penis, yet rock hard. Everyone was quiet, except for the docent talking in a monotone voice. Everyone was in a haze as well. The museum guard was standing idly, yet far away. The teacher was focused on every word of the docent. My mind was obsessed with feeling Daishiro's cock inside of me. I felt myself wet. I felt the impulse foreign to me. A change that the lapse in the forest had brought. What happened next was very easy, too easy. It was so easy, that there should have been a railing or some kind protection against it. I unzipped his pant. I lifted the back of my skirt. I pretended to be leaning against Daishiro. And, then I slipped his cock into my vagina. It went in so fast. Daishiro was eager to help. I was wet as I had never been wet before. How to hump him without being noticed? I decided to pretend bouncing on my feet lightly as if being impatient or trying to stay away. The little bounces didn't give me the stimulation to have sex. Yet, the little bounces did warm me up. With every bounce, I became more heated and more reckless with my acting of innocent reasons to move my hips. I bent forward to adjust my left shoe. Oh, this pushed my vagina fully over his penis. It felt so delicious. I stood up. I stooped over again for the right shoe and to feel the penis plunging into the depth of my belly again. By this time, half of the class had noticed what we were up to. It wasn't just the paper thin acting. It was the intensity that we displayed on our faces. They looked on partly in disbelief and partly in excited exasperation. Too many students stood in front us for the teacher to see. Yet, the unexplained aliveness among the students started drawing the inquiring eyes of the teacher. Obviously, my imagination for faking ordinary movements to get hip motion was exhausted. I was ramming and slamming Daishiro's cock full speed in and out of my slick pussy. My orgasm wasn't near exploding, when Daishiro shot spurts of semen inside of me five minutes after we started. If my behavior was odd, my bodily response was even odder. I felt my uterus moving down to lick up the semen that was deep inside of me in a cavity between his dick and the end of my vaginal hole. The uterus dipped down rhythmically and sucked up semen. Daishiro tried to pull out, yet the suction was so strong that he couldn't. Looking over my face, he looked red faced and frantic. He pulled with large force on his penis, yet my uterus was sucking so hard on his cock that he couldn't pull out. His body went limp. For a moment, his whole body dangled from his penis from my womb. Then, the uterus released him to succumb to the floor. What happened next is only recorded in fragments of my memory. The first fragment is that of a paramedic. I was starring right at the emblem on his shoulder. I vividly remember the blue cross, the pentagon around it, and the letters of the hospital. Then, he called "clear." Paddles attached to Daishiro's chest shocked the whole body. Daishiro's face was full of wrinkles. His hair in the center was gone, shiny bald. The rest of his hair was fully gray. His eyes were motionless. There was a white layer over his iris. The next moment that I remember are the clicks of shiny, silver handcuffs and leg irons. The class was pushed into a side room and blocked by two police officers in large yellow coats with orange reflective beams. My legs had to walk in strange half circles because of the leg irons. I heard stern words like "extreme escape risk and dangerous" said about me. From the point that I had decided to grab Daishiro's penis, everything had felt surreal, like life had ended or I was in a dream. I had given up exposing frames of ordinary life like politeness or thinking about homework. Only two days later, did my consciousness click again to keep up with reality. I was sitting on a cold metal bench inside an armored car. The metal bench was only two feet high and two feet deep. The transport space was dark. Only high near the ceiling was a slotted opening for air to come in. The two officers were clad in especially polished and formal police clothes. Their hat was larger and more square than usual. The creases were sharper. There were medals on the police officers' vests. I was in a gray prison uniform. My hands and feet were both cuffed. A metal chain connected my hand and ankle cuffs, so that I could not raise my hands. My hair had been combed by a prison warden, because a comb may have become a deadly weapon in my hands. The knobs on the ground to avoid slipping were soothingly comforting. I could count three knobs vertically in the space of one horizontal knob. The knobs had four corners. They felt solid. All these little details helped me ground in the moment. They helped me get out of the head and to feel the sharp edge of the bench against my hamstrings. They helped me feel the cool air in my lungs. My head felt hot. I continued my self therapy of focusing on details around me. The face of the police officer in front of me showed a middle aged man, who was very comfortable and a little bit confident. There was something about his placid outside that suggested on the inside, he was waiting to get home to a wife of small stature and two kids. He just seemed like the two kid kind of man. He had something kind and hands-off about him that suggested that he rarely yelled at his kids. So, his kids would grow up to follow their internal instincts and explore the world unafraid. He looked like a daughter kind of father, because daughter fathers are mellower. His daughter was probably slender. She'd walk around the house in her pajamas and lean against the kitchen counter to ask for mochi. From how he cared for his clothes, he definitely seemed like someone, who spent a good part of his salary on furnishing a nice house. She could vividly see the police officers house and his life. It seemed from the little hints of his face she could deduce how he had made his life decisions. Her mind was so deeply into the police officer's head that she felt like she had left her body. It was like an out of body experience. The most bizarre feeling was that when she coughed, he coughed as well. Some kind of link had been created between the two. From the same place in the subconscious that the subway groping images had shot from, shot new images suggesting bukhake. Bukhake is an ancient tradition, where a disgraced woman is taken to the limits of the village. The village elders masturbate into her face and send her off to never return to the village. Bizarre, yet it beats lethal injection for capital crimes. The cop knocked against the front of the transport compartment with his gloved fist. He told the driver to pull over. He explained the other cops that they were going to punish her with Bukhake, because the court system wouldn't. And, they had to stand up for one of their own, another man, being killed. Daishiro had died of a heart attack. The rapid aging had been too much for his body. The armored truck tilted sideways. Apparently, the truck had rolled onto the side of the road. The double doors swung open. A cool temperate forest and rural road was on the outside. The guards were under a spell calling out "Bukhake" every once in a while. Otherwise, they didn't talk. They were four guards in total. They walked her five minutes into the forest. They made her sit down on the semi-frozen ground among the downfall of branches and rotting leaves. They pulled down the top of her gray prison overall to expose her breasts. The pulled down overall further locked her arms in place. Her nipples were stiff from the cold. White mist blew out of the police officers faces. They had large square pants. The jackets were made to make them look bulkier. They lowered their pants to their ankles. The white shirt tips appeared beneath the jacket. The panties were ribbed briefs, police issue. They vigorously pummeled their soft meats until they grew with blood. I shivered from the anxiety of the situation and the cold. The police officer whose brain I had visited was the first to step in front of my face. "Open your mouth, whore," was his order. Then, he shot a load of jelly into my mouth. The last bit landed at my nostrils. Every blow flung a bit of the jelly. Yet, with the overall down my arms, I could not clean my face. The next officer shot his load straight across my face, forehead, and beginning of hair. The salty semen stung in my eye. I kept my eye closed. A hand slapped across my face, "slut." My breasts were slapped expunging little gasps out of my mouth that I kept open with the jelly swimming around my tongue. Nipples were squeezed. I was pushed onto my face. The overall was pulled over my ass. The third police officer fucked me from behind. My face was pressed into the dirt. My wrists were stuck in the sleeves that were at my knees with the rest of the uniform. I could feel the skin of a wide, yet short cock pushing into me. For some reason, I loved it. For some reason, I had been very horny since my lapse in the forest. The tiniest touch or thought could set of a storm inside my body. The police officer heaved under his breath. His movements showed that he was clearly out of his element. There were hints of guilt, another family man. Something had bewitched those police officers. "Take this you dirty whore," hissed the man resting on my back into my ear. He had a premature ejaculation and came right away. My uterus sucked again, sucked up the semen, sucked more semen out of the cock. My uterus seemed to suck so hard that it emptied all the raw sperm material out of the testicles. The man collapsed onto me. When he rolled off, I could feel that the skin on his hands had become very rough, like that of an old man. Bizarrely, the other police officers did not bother with their collapsed colleague. They patiently stood in line like zombies to fuck me from behind. And, one after the next dropped. One after the next had signs of advanced age like rough skin, bad breath, or an ill body odor. When the last one of them had dropped, I was still on my knees and chest. My heart pounded. My skin felt smooth. I felt energy like a teenager pulsing through my muscles. I sat up on my knees. I looked down at my bare boobs. They had received the spring and rosiness they had, when I was eighteen years old. I took a deep breath. My muscles had an impulse to stretch. I stretched and contracted my muscles. That made me feel strong like I had just finished a set of heavy weights in the gym. My body started shaking from the stretch. I let out a moan of strength and relaxation that grew into a loud scream without any effort that hollored and echoed through the forest. My limps stretched straight. The cuffs fractured under the pressure of my superhuman muscles. Freedom! The police officer had aged into old man with gray hair and gracefully aged faces. The uniforms were a bit too large, because their spine had shrunk with age. Strange, I thought for a moment. Then, I had the urge to run. Obviously, anyone trying to get from trouble wants to run. However, my muscles were tingling antsy like a foal in spring time. I started on a light jog. The forest floor crunched beautifully under my sure steps. It felt so good to move. I started moving faster. My lungs were barely working. There was so much strength pulsing in me. I stared running at full speed. With ease, I dashed past the trees, turning and twisting my path, while I ducked under the dead branches of winter. When you are focused on every motion of your feet, legs, and arms, you forget about time. You are in the very instant of anticipating the next touchdown of the foot and your body reacting to that. However, I had a faint feeling that I had been running for two hours at full speed through forests and fields. Warm sweats was running and dripping all over my body. Yet, my lungs were breathing as easy as lying in bed on a Sunday morning. There was so much strength and energy bottled up inside of me. I could overlook the shore of Japan. The sky was dark and gray from the coming dawn and clouds. Rain poured down in the distance over the sea. A second tier commercial port was in front of me. A small hamlet was adjacent to the port for the workers. Escaping to another country, when you are hunted for murder of five men seemed like a good idea. Oyasi: Cock Hungry and Deadly My mind wasn't thinking reality of bullets and blood. My mind was thinking fantasies of movies. In Hollywood movies, heroes run away to Mexico. In Japan, you have to find your own Mexico. The port had large multi lane roads with neglected holes. Grass was growing in the cracks of the road. The yellow gate booth was rusted red-brown. A window was broken. Nobody was inside. Sitting on the broken chair and squalid would have been punishment anyway. The fence around the container yard had many holes and warped fence stretches. Walking through the containers was surreal. The containers towered five levels high. Two giant cranes moved containers around. The controls were fully automated by robots to safe on salaries. The shipyard was a very lonely place. The rust holes in the containers were quite large. Still she carefully snooped around every corner. The sun had gone down almost completely. I spotted a ship with a Chinese flag. It was an old trawler. The bow was raised proudly high to plunge through high seas. The bridge stood over the ship like the shaft of a worn shoe. The plank had been pulled. Only big ropes held the boat to the land. The ropes were large, rough, twisted, and stiff. I could barely get my hands around it. Hanging from my arms and my legs wrapped around the ropes, I pulled myself onto the boat. In any ordinary human condition, the ropes would have ripped through my dandy eighteen year old skin after the first grip. Yet, there was an intense energy and fountain of youth pulsing in my uterus. The ship was dark. I felt my way along board and inside, until I felt that I was hiding in a room deep inside the ship. The many unorganized article in the room suggested that it was an abandoned storage room. I held my legs and arms close to my body, as I felt the slow rolling motion of the sea. I fell into a sweet slumber that nourished my stretched mind. Though, the veil of my slumber, I felt the rumbling in the boat. The horn blue its trailing monotone. The keel left the harbor and met the waves of the ocean sea. Lethargic waves lifted the boat. Complete darkness was around me. All I could sense were the motions of the ocean and the feel of cool, stale air. And, there were the endless images jumbling through my mind and sorting out the recent events. An unknown time passed. Without sunlight and a watch, a slumber could have been twenty minutes or eight hours. The annoying boredom could have been sixty unbearable seconds or an hour of getting lost in fantasies. The only thing that unshakably announced time was the rumbling in my stomach. Getting caught as a stowaway was dangerous. Marine law requires boat crews to provide food and shelter to stowaways. Yet, the food goes away from their plate. Naturally, burly, thuggish sailors don't like to share their food as much as the menacing neighborhood stray dog. Yet, staying without moving was unbearable. My hand reached through the air. Everything was black, yet anything could be a sharp instrument. Leaning back on my heels, I carefully felt the floor ahead with my toes. My hands were carefully sifting the black air for tables and other hard objects. Narrow hallways had faint light from god knows where. The ocean air smelled like rotting seaweed, a putrid, heavy smell. The walls were made of hard iron and thick layers of white paint. The paint was so thick that you'd believe it was melted white chocolate goo. The staircases were so steep and narrow that you'd always have to watch your head. Once, I saw the open ocean through a door. It took me by surprise. My mind drifted to post card moments. Wide open blue sky. The ocean was dark, blue with white foam crescents. The railings reminded of a cruise ship and happy moments. Outside meant being exposed. So, I stuck to the belly of the ship. In the lunch room, I found the two sailors of the ship. The light was stark and synthetic. The laminate floor had a dull gray texture. Cheap metal chairs were put around non-descript tables. Full boxes of salt and sugar packets were piled next to a microwave. The young guy was tall and had a shaved, egg-shaped head. He was dressed in blue workout clothes. Despite his height, his face painted indignation of being the second person. The older guy was a sixty year old thinning gray heard bastard with egg-yolk on his sweater. He sat leaning with a self-effused pouty smile on his face. His pants were wide and shaggy. My pussy started vibrating. I could instantly feel the lubricant pooling like a hungry dog drools at the sight of food. I was washed in horny and terrified feelings. I did not want to kill and fuck anymore people. You may have thought that I loved fucking those four cops in the forest. I did in the heat of the moment. However, with a clear head, all the images roll through my head. They ain't that hot anymore. My breasts were tingling and nipples stifling. With much self-discipline, I crawled away to a safe distance, where my intense lust eased. Like a chocolate addict, I stole glances of the men over the next days, "just a look, a glimpse, not even touching." And, once I was lurking on them, the voice in my head said, "just a little touch, a little nibble. They won't mind." And then, I could see the penis of the tall, young, Russian mate in front of my face: Pale, hard, smooth, delicious with a few rosy highlights. Whenever I visualized his penis clearly in my head with the two little freckles beneath, I saw him getting a real erection. He'd ruffle for magazines in a drawer under the bridge. With his feet on the control board, he'd wank off to the audience of the wide glass window of the cockpit. One time, I imagined him taking me with my skirt on. I saw us both floating in the soft air, the ocean, and white clouds. It was so romantic. Russian guys are so rough in the streets and bars, yet, in privacy, they are so soft. I imagined his shaved head over my shaved pussy with that smooth tongue wrestling my clitoris. With the photo clear in my mind, he started moving in my direction like in a trance. I panicked and ran. There were times aboard the ship, when I wanted to kill myself. I seemed to have turned into a menacing danger, a serial killer, a mind manipulator. My family must think that I am a freak. My body oscillates from 40 years old to 18 years old. In the silence of the belly of the ship, I pondered dying by drowning -- too cold, dying by strangulation -- too much suffering, cutting an artery -- too ghastly to push the knife. After five days, the ship landed in China. Houses, streets, and everything was damaged by the yellow soot. The yellow soot was spewed into the air by factories. There was no security. There were no fences. If you looked closely, the harbor workers had ghastly marks of accidents: missing hands, seven inch long scars, and limp legs. Near, the commercial harbor, I found a little slum area. Nobody would bother me hear. The foundations of a carton shed were noticeable. Someone had built it a few days ago. Even the grass struggled to grow on the hard packed rubble. Old Chinese men with tea stained teeth, if they still had them, were sleeping on the floor. Younger Chinese men had succumbed to alcohol. They were sitting on oil barrels with persistent diarrhea from cheap boot leg bottles. I was depressed. For days, I sat on a piece broken of a wood pallet. I didn't move. After a while, not moving became easy. My limbs kind of froze in place. The synovial fluid in my joints must have oozed out. And, my bones grew together. My world offered me no reason to live. There was an old man nearby. He had a checkered shirt and worn gray cargo pants. The bottom ends of the cargo pants were frayed. He loved making tea every afternoon. He'd walk around looking for scrapes of wood or cartons. He'd fling two metal pieces against each other until the sparks set a small flame. With red cheeks, he'd blow the flame into a modest fire. He is only a person. In a romantic novel, he'd have a loving family somewhere. In reality, those poor slobs are poor lonely slobs all the way. They may have their joys of catching a grasshopper or getting a birthday gift, yet their daddies are a blend of stupid, abusive, socially and emotional inept bastards. I wondered what his dad would have beaten him for. Out of nowhere my mind was very convinced that it was for not coming home from school fast enough. Somehow, I could see the brown wood grain of the door so clearly. He stood in the door, the door just opened and his face slammed, crying bitterly. The whole frame of his skinny boy body was shaking. His mind was furiously swearing to haunt his father to the end of the earth. Those words were forgotten by the time he stopped crying. With nothing to all day, my idle mind wandered through the old man's life like a museum. The old man, we never talked, his name was Bingwen. I am convinced of that. Don't ask me why. He got this trance like expression on his face, when I'd watch him for a while. Then, he brought me food and drink. I wasn't sure, if he was kind or if I had made him my drone. The days of denying the world had to come to an end. Every day, my face and body aged about a year. I was now sixty years old. My bones were frail as glass from osteoporosis. My face felt hardened by the myriad of deep wrinkles. The bounce of my step had been replaced with feet scuffing the floor. Without a plan, I walked in one direction. Somewhere, there would be a commercial sector. Somewhere, there would be normal. Somewhere, there would be a life. So, I walked. After a few blocks, my stomach started hurting. My knees swelled up. My head got a thumping pain. The pain worsened until I stopped. When I walked back to the rough land, the pain lifted in reverse. That's when I learned that I was imprisoned to stay on the rough land by some magical power. Did vampires exist? Where the mystical stories of the Aino People true? I pondered that standing under the only street light, a yellow cone of light. From behind, I must have looked like an attractive girl. Remember, I am short like a little girl. A creepy man had been slowly advancing to me. He paused shocked for a moment, when he saw my face. Yet, he must have been so desperate for tail that he'd even take it from a sixty year old. His pants were blocky. His shoes were blocky. His jaw was blocky. He was a very blocky man. His face had no refinement. There didn't seem to be any schooling in the head, not even the final years of high school. Somehow, I had no mercy with the low life. My hands reached for the zipper of the overall. I pulled it down slowly to reveal my body. I was still thin and cute beneath the crust of age. Yet, my boobs had become even thinner. The skin had many folds with the connective tissue having become loose. My pussy was glowing warmth into my cold body, like a hearth in the center of a giant castle built of thick walls. Without hesitation, he kissed me. He pressed his clothed body against my naked body. The taste buds in my tongue had weakened from age. I could not taste his mouth as much as I used to. My skin sensation was not as high fidelity as it used to be, when I was my own age. Yet, the memory of sex and horniness was more intense than ever. My vaginal lining had thinned with menopause. Now, it was pulsating and seemed to re-grow. My hands fumbled his pants open. I pulled his pants just down his butt. Then, I plunged his penis inside of me. That moment was like plugging into the matrix. My depression lifted. I knew that everything would be alright. The birds would sing again. The savage man laid me on my back. I was completely naked beneath him with the back on the rough street. He was clothed with only his butt exposed to the air. His butt kept lifting into the night air and pushing down inside of me. I breathed. I breathed the air. I breathed his body odor. My pussy breathed in life itself. Everything had been going so well. We had established a rhythm. We had disappeared into our own bubbles of lust. Then, he pulled out. He pulled his penis out. He was apologetic. He had an orgasm problem. My mind was set on fucking the life force out of him. His hang up wouldn't stop me. So, I sucked his dick. My mind had one goal and focus: Get him turned on enough to ejaculate inside of me. He loved it. He loved it so much, the suction of my tongue, the slick sensation on his dick, and the feeling of dominating me. His face painted heaven. With the cum poised in his gonads, he fucked me again. And, oh, it was a celebration. I felt the trickle and the spurts. I could visualize the white jelly among my pussy juice. Then, the uterus dipped down on his penis. The uterus lapped up the semen. The uterus sucked on the opening in his dick, until his gonads were sucked dry. My heart pounded with fresh life force. He was limp and dead. I pushed him away with my consciousness drowned in the good feeling. I poked his body with my feet. I kind of rolled him around a bit, like a spoiled teenager. He was pretty limp being dead. I was now thirty. He had only shaved thirty years of my age. Thirty is a pretty good time in life. You still have strength and vitality. My face was had the increased definition of age. Yet, the skin was still youthful and the smile fresh. All along, I had been watched and observed. My spine had needles running down, when I realized that I was caught. My first thought was that I'd get another man as a meal to reach my real age again. However, an Amazon tall woman 6'3" easily on black high heels elegantly walked toward my like she was parading on a catwalk. Her knees would move first. Her feet would snap forward at the last moment before being planted for the next step. Her knees moved around each other, as if she were balancing on a tight rope. She wore an elegant black jacket over her dress. The jacket was longer than her dress. Many buckles were hanging off the jacket. The black hair of the woman was pulled back into a pony tail. Her eyes were fish eyes. Her lips were painted equally oversized and round. She pulled smoke out of a skinny cigarette. She walked slowly toward me with all the confidence of a mighty army stepping up to a little boy holding a teddy bear. "I see. You have killed for the first time with purpose of feeding yourself." "How do you know that I killed the man? I am a pretty small girl for such a big, rough man." "Don't kid yourself, newborn. We both know that your pussy sucked the life out of the low life." Her observation had been too astute. I could not talk in shock. "You have caused quite a stir with the dead bodies. The boy in the museum could have been a freak accident. Taking out four heavily armed police guards raised uncomfortable attention to our kind. The panel sent me to take care of you." "How can you know all these things?" "Oh, poor little thing! Nobody has told you. They never tell the newborns." I looked at the woman talking with a British accent more enthralled then scared for my life. The energy in my limps made me feel invincible, even though I had been caught red handed. "You are an oyasi. That's a mythical Ainu creature. At the hot spring, the onsen oyasi turned you, remember that cute girl and your Lesbian fling?" We just stood there under the lone street light. I was still naked. She was dressed for an upscale neighborhood in London, yet standing in a Chinese harbor slum. "In Ainu mythology, everything has a spirit. The bear has a spirit. A lake has a spirit. A mountain has a spirit. We are the demon kind of spirit, an oyasi. We have to feed on the sexual secretions of humans. They make us strong. If we don't feed, we age. We don't die. We age." "You my friend, Tamiko, have to learn to stop fucking before they die. It draws too much attention to us. Fuck 'em, take five years off their life, and move on to the next one." "How do you know my name?" "You know. I saw what you did to old gentleman with the tea habit. We can enter people's minds. It's not just your fantasy about the person. You are literally inside their mind. I assume you did the same to the police guards. Those guards are too uptight to fuck a cute chick, even if she dances naked on their dicks." "I can read people's minds and mind control them." "Everything has its upsides. You wanna know what other powers you have, don't you?" "How do I know that I am really an oyasi? What if you are a mental health doctor testing me, if I have gone insane?" She smiled. She smiled this superior smile with her head knocking back. Slowly, she pulled the ear buds of an iPod out and started listening to music with her eyes closed for a minute or two. I could hear the loud music overflowing her ears. Luscious house beats emanated out and reminded me of how wonderful life can be at clubs. Her eyes opened. Her long finger with perfect nail polish pointed straight at a fence post with rubbish leaning against it. "Go there, dear. And, you will find out." My body was so supercharged that I could not walk. Automatically, I started an easy jog. I bounced leg to leg. I felt my muscles and boobs lifting with each step. With a strong exhale, I lurked around the fence post. A vagrant man in his thirties lay under a pile of ripped cardboard boxes. Only a triangle of his face was visible in the rubble camouflage. I pulled him up by his shoulders. My vitality was so strong that I lifted him with ease. I kind of flung him a couple feet by accident. He awake with starry wide open eyes and shock on his face. Yet, his body was still slumbering, while his mind panicked. I jumped on top of him. I straddled his groin. I pushed my boobs against him. I wet kissed his neck, ears, and face. I was ravenous. He eased into my hot kisses, hugs, and embraces. Our tongues meet like agitated bees buzzing around each other. Men are so culpable. The disregard any suspicion as long as they get pussy. His penis was quickly hard. I dry humped his penis hiding under the pant fabric. I rubbed my pussy along his shaft. He probably didn't feel much. My external vagina felt a lot, when rubbing against his rough fabric. The power in me made it so much easier to rip his clothes into pieces than bother with the fine motoric required to properly undress him. He must have been the only Chinese with a large dick. My whole pussy was stretched and wonderfully filled. Rubbing my naked body against his, the skin to skin contact, was so delicious. I was in a fucking fever. I slammed my groin so hard against his body that it must have seemed grotesque like an overdone porn movie. My brain had only one voice hammering: "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck his brains out!" It wasn't that he turned me on. I had this inner fire of lust that I needed to discharge. Like an angry boxer discharges into a sand bag, I discharged biting, sucking, and fucking into the overjoyed vigrant worker boy. When he finally erupted inside of me with his eyes pressed clothed and mouth gaping uncontrollably open, I screamed. I screamed with a surge on the inside. I could hear my voice echoing back from the overhead pillars. Even the harbor itself faintly threw my echo back. My uterus twitched and sucked. The London-esque mystery woman pulled me of the male body. I was strong with the power cursing through me. Yet, she was even stronger. We could have crushed concrete between our hands. We were so strong. Yet, being pulled off the penis hurt like hell. My whole uterus and stomach felt like being ripped out. Panting from the pain, I doubled over five feet away from the unconscious vagrant worker. "So, Tamiko, do you belief a normal human being could act like that? By the way, I like you much more with that innocent 18 year girl look." "I am a monster." "No, you are an oyasi. You are just a young one. You have to grow into your new identity. You will love it. We should go on an adventure. Oh, I forgot you can't." Oyasi: Cock Hungry and Deadly "What is it?" "Well, we oyasi's are supposed to be the spirits of beings and places. (her face squinted painfully.) So, if we stay at a place for more than a moon cycle, we become tight to that place. Unfortunately, you are a Chinese shipyard slum oyasi. Yeah, that sucks." "What? I will never be able to leave this dump anymore?" "There is a rule that could get you out of here. Oyasi's have a second purpose. We are the collectors of Ainu People souls. You have meet Aiko, the onsen oyasi. She is the main guardian of all the Ainu People souls. She stores the souls of dead Ainu in the monkies." "Now, you must have an Ainu ancestor or Aiko couldn't have turned you. Do you know who it is?" "My cousin Chokichi real mother might have been an Ainu. Her father had her as a mistress. It would explain why Chokichi looks different than his mother." "Okay, that's a lead. As you can't leave here, you have to get him here." "What do I have to do then?" "You have to extract a copy of his soul with your vagina. Once you hold the copy inside of you, you are granted passage to bring the soul to Aiko's hot spring. You just make sure that you never come back here or you get trapped again. Actually, never stay anywhere long enough for a moon cycle to complete. And, you should be fine." "Eck, sleeping with my own cousin is so disgusting. We grew up together." "Grr, you Japanese are so uptight. Accept that he probably fantasized about you as a teenager and rubbed out quite a few at night." The London-esque woman was very cold in her demeanor. Yet, I noticed that she stayed with me. Her body was planted firm like she wasn't going to go anywhere with all my hesitations and tempers. "Why do you help me?" "It's very easy. The panel told me to take care of you. After all, we are of the same oyasi kin now. Getting turned is very confusing. So, I know that I have to put up with a few tempers. Let me help you locate Chokichi." She handed me her iPod and told me to listen to it with my eyes closed. The thumping, bass heavy club music streamed through my head. "What do you see, dear?" "Nothing, my eyes are closed." "Dear, everybody sees lights and fuzzy stuff with their eyes closed." "Yeah, I see pulsing light. Big Kermit eyes are looking at me. Now, they are gone. There is a lot of random color moving around." "Keep looking, Tamiko." "There are some circles that keep staying with me." "Describe the circles." "There is a blue circle the size of a penny. There are some green circles further out. They are very clear circles." "The blue circle is me. Oyasi show up as blue. Humans, we call them food, show up as green. You should see three green circles for the vagrants sleeping over there. The music helps you tune into your internal radar. It's not radar. We just call it that." "Oh my gosh. The constellation of the dots totally relates to the location of people around here." "I just told you! Now, zoom out and search for your cousin." "Why I feel like this non-descript green dot is my Chokichi?" "Because it is him! Do you get anything that I tell you? Now, focus on him. Remember, how you get into people's heads. Do the same to the circle." "You know all the dots looked the same. However, this one is fading a bit. It's kind of like Chokichi. He always stands in the doorway, when we play. And, then he fades slowly back instead of coming in. Oh, and the edges of the circle are so sharp. They remind me of Chokichi's hair styles -- always styled and sharp." "Keep going. What's his favorite food?" "He always told us that he loved maple syrup pancakes. But, somehow the green dot seems to prefer Kimchi. I can literally see him walking down the stairs of a little hole in the wall single table restaurant to an old Korean woman." "Yep, getting into the heads of the ones clothes to us is hardest. We have so many wrong conceptions about them that we can't see them for who they really are." My mind read the memorable scenes of Chokichi's mind. He did have a photo of me. I was standing in a neat dress for a school photo. He'd be naked on top of his back. He'd press the photo of me against his erect penis. The definition of his young muscles were evident in the low evening sung. He lay on his back with a pink sock of mine lying across his face. He'd inhale the foot stink of my feet. "Lady, you are right about him." "Now call him. Imagine that he is meeting you here. You are deep enough in his mind. Paint out how he can get the money for the plane ticket and everything. He is a young boy. He might need guidance on that." I didn't tell her. When I painted the photo of Chokichi taking me, I painted an enormous scene. I painted a wooden stage/hill/altar kind of thing. I painted a giant red platform bed on top of it. White curtains were enclosing the bed and flying in the air. We had a romantic love cocoon. When the bewitched workers showed up to build it for real, the woman chided me. Yet, she didn't think my childish extravagance was any real danger. We were in an ignored slum. You could have parked an alien spaceship here and no outside person would have taken notice. The woman's name is Bethany, by the way. We talked for the next few days. I started to understand what my new destiny had become. I learned to control my sexual appetite. I could now nibble on a man and let go with ease. Bethany kept telling me to practice hors d'œuvres. She was funny with how much diligence she trained me. Her big lesson was to blend in. Use the powers only as little touches. Soon enough, the worker's building my dream love next only thought of me as a sweet, sexy flirt. Nobody died anymore. They all just enjoyed and I snacked on their life force. Always remember, hors d'œuvres! The big moment arrived. My cousin stepped into the slum. Without words, I took him by the hand. We walked up the stage. The thirty or so steps felt like stepping to a wedding altar. The towering stage took us out of the slum into another sphere. The white curtains flew in the air above. The red platform bed invited us. His face was in a trance. He sat down. He didn't move on his own. He was under my control. I enjoyed unraveling him out of his fresh clothes. I took my time to undo his short and take one arm after the next out of it. I caressed his chest. I neatly folded his clothes onto a pile to drag out the time for more enjoyment. I put his limb penis into my mouth. That's what cousin penis tastes like. He was really limb. Whenever my tongue pushed on his dick, his dick just vanished like a pile of feathers blown at. His dick tasted pretty neutral. Good hygiene, I guess. For a moment, I got lost in playing with his penis. Coming up from under my mind control, he whispered dazed, "Why am I here?" With him laying on the luxurious bed with the high cotton count fabric, I was in love with the fresh, young, and shapely body of his. His skin was so pale. I decided that out of all the men that I had slept with, I wanted to make this my virgin voyage. The other men did not count. This was the first time that I was going to enjoy making love. Remembering, Chockichi's love for my feet, I placed my small feet onto his face. He started kissing them with tiny little kiss walking along the bottom of my soles. He inhaled deeply a whiff of my feet. Then, he suckled on my toes. He took one after the next into his mouth. Not being able to get enough, he tried to stuff my whole foot into his mouth. He breathed, "Oh, I hoped my whole life for this moment to come true." Before I was getting ready to straddle his rocket, I took one last look at his body. I love the compact shape of Japanese bodies. They are neat and ready to go. I sunk my love hole onto his meat. I was ready to go with my juices flowing. I rode him cowgirl style. He looked up at me with his eyes half closed. I knew that he would be able to remember the whole thing. I hoped that he thought of my body as beautiful. I made love to him softly. We built a sheen of sweet. We rolled around the big platform bed, wrapped our limbs in the soft fabric, and gazed at each other's bodies with abandonment. I made slow love. He wouldn't come any time soon. I learned to let him come up from under my spell just a tad bit, so that he actively participated. He'd roll me on my belly. He'd fondle my breast. He'd kiss me passionately. He even whispered a few "I love you"s. Inevitably, the moment had to come, when he finally did release the semen into me. After all the built-ups and gently releases earlier, his actual orgasm was soft. I let go of his body instantly not willing to harm him. A drop of semen rolled out of his penis. I wiped it with my index finger and fed the drop to my hungry cunt. Bethany walked beneath the white flowing curtains and clapped with sarcasm. As much as she was British, she was tactless. She stood haughty with her high heels and sharp, elegant dress. I was naked and embarrassed to be caught in my erotic abandonment. My face glowed. Chokichi was half conscious from the erotic bliss. "Well done! Let's get out of here. We are taking my G6." G6 that is a Gulfstream 650, the toppest of the line private jet that money can buy. I am sure Bethany didn't pay a dime for it. Or, at least, the dimes were not hers to begin with. The cabin was too low for her to stand up. We were sitting in plush chairs that were on easy to turn swivels. Wood panels raised the ambiance. Champagne was Bethany's way of making things stylish. Chokichi was fully conscious. Well, he was in a frenzy of excitement for being on a G6. He couldn't stop exclaiming how 'rad' and 'super' everything was. He'd look out of the window. He'd read all the bottle labels in the open bar. He'd pace back to the cockpit door. He'd knock politely. The pilot would show him all the controls again with the docile patience of a Doberman, when everyone knows that the Doberman is about to attack, yet the person in front of him is blissfully unaware. When we reached Japan, Bethany waved the chipper Chokichi to take a look out of the window. She showed him exactly the house that he lived in. She pointed out the big soccer field near his house. Then, she handed him a backpack that looked very much like a parachute. She opened the door to a dramatically sucking air stream. She threw him out with the parachute. My mind couldn't keep up with how fast things were going: "Did you just throw my cousin out of the airplane?" "Ha, don't worry about it. Guys love that kind of stuff." "He doesn't know how to sky dive." "He doesn't need to. The second shoot automatically deploys at 2,500 feet. I'd throw a baby out of the plane and know that it lands safe and soft." Somehow, I believed that she had already done it. She was the kind of women that didn't fuzz around with anything. For hours, we sat on the plane. Bethany did nothing. She sat with her legs crossed. I couldn't tell if she was good at waiting or if in her mind she was entering other people's minds. I was impatient. I was bored. I was more out of my element than ever. "Beth, where are we going?" "I wish we were going to London. I love London. Did I mention that I am from London? I have lived in every suburb of London for twenty days. I can't go there anymore. It's that stupid one moon cycle rules about oyasi's. We have to keep moving." "What do you do, when you have been everywhere on earth?" "Your question is not as silly as it seems. Some of us have faced that problem. You can delay the inevitable for a while by spending time at the polar caps. However, eventually even the harshest ice deserts have been used up. Then, we have to make the hard choice of picking a place to spend the rest of our eternity. When that time comes, make sure that you pick a hot spring, metropolitan city, or tropical island. Don't accidentally get caught somewhere, because you didn't keep accurate count of your days there." "That sounds almost sad." "It's our destiny. However, I am taking you somewhere fun." The plane set down in the heart of Africa on a dirt strip. The grass was vibrantly green and bowed under the soft breeze. The dirt was radiantly reddish-brown. A simple hut served as the traffic control tower. A man with a donkey offered taxi services. The hills were rolling softly. "Let's charge up," said Bethany. She sexually seduced the idle men waiting in the shed of the control tower. Seven bare feet simply clothed men in shorts and t-shirts were rallying around Bethany. "See honey, no powers needed. They love my white flesh." The men softly laughed. One was humming a rhythm while watching on. Another held a bottle of golden beer. Bethany and I went into the middle of them. We teased them with looks, kisses, touches. And, of course, we mounted them. We fucked them. They bared their long shlongs without hesitation. Eight to ten inches was the standard African size here. Their black daggers plunged into our bellies. We hors d'œuvred like mad. We even had seconds and thirds. The man took little harm from our nibbling. The experience was sure to grow a local legend: The tall Londoner and the spunky, little Jap. Stepping aside, Bethany told me that we had enough energy. Like in the forest with the police guards, I was filled with energy. We started running across the hills with the knee deep grass. Dark thunder clouds filled the sky. Among the lightening, we were carefree kids running in the rain. Our lungs breathed easy like resting, while our legs were running at super human speed. It felt so exhilarating. Every racing step released a little crescendo in our muscles, a crescendo of endorphins -- feel good hormones. We ran for ours. I remember my anticipation of every little hill. I loved the creeks with our giant leaps across. The creeks were lined by bushes through, which we pushed. I loved the swift hand movements to push the branches out of our way. I remembered laughing off a stinging branch snatching into my face. I loved it of, because we were so high and drunk on life energy. Bethany made sure to guide me into desolate, rural areas. We scantly so a hut here or there, no villages or hamlet. On a hill, Bethany stopped. She stood on a white, square rock. Her gaze was focused on a village beneath us. A few mud huts with straw roofs stood in a circle. "Close your eyes and listen to the iPod." My heart was pounding. My whole body was slick wet with sweat. Sweat was running down my nose, chin, back, everywhere. I calmed down enough to listen to the music. Now, I could immediately tune into my radar. There was the blue circle for Bethany. There were green circles indicating humans moving around the village. Some were close. Some were far away. There was a red circle. "What is the red circle?" "That's the village shaman. It's red, so that you know to stay away from him." "Wow, so all the talk about spirits, heaven, and hell is true." "Don't be silly. Most of these shamans are quacks. They learn a few magical tricks and trust in the placebo effect for their theatrical acts. However, you never know. The one that we face may have actual powers. Always avoid red circles and stay alive." "Can we go? I am scared. What if he can sense us up here?" The cool Bethany was for the first time excited. Her mouth spoke fast. Her gestures were sharp. Amazing! She had been running in her high heels and upper class British outfit through the dirt and fields. "There is a point to being here. I will teach you to stalk the prey. One by one, we will make love to them. Whenever one leaves the group for a desolate area, we will pick them off men and women without discrimination."