"Assholes!" I slam the front door of my parents' new house and storm into the
bedroom. Screw the summer session at Tokyo U. Three days back in Japan and I'm
already thinking of taking the next jet out of Narita. So much for the prodigal
daughter's return to the homeland...
Not only do I get pawed on the subway, but Kenji, the slacker next door, and his
buddies make disgusting comments every time I pass their garage. Today, they
were huddled there, wearing those stupid school uniforms that look like black
kung fu outfits, smoking dope and shouting as I walked by. Maybe traditional
Japanese girls take that shit, but I flipped them the bird. The shock on their
faces was priceless. Yeah assholes, this babe puts out... NOT!
I hadn't been back in Tokyo for six years because my folks sent me to train and
study in Boca Raton, Florida. My parents moved to this house just after I
started my freshman year at Stanford. By Tokyo standards, the neighborhood, an
enclave of homes with land instead of apartment complexes, was ultra posh, which
is why I couldn't believe the shit I had to deal with from the neighbor's kid.
I strip out of my sweat-soaked hip-huggers and tank top, throwing them on one of
the many tennis trophies lining the shelves. It was damn hot and humid.
Gathering my long black hair into a pony tail, I couldn't help but model a bit
in front of the mirror. I play number one singles at Stanford and my teammates
joke I'm the Asian answer to Anna Kournikova. Yeah, I could definitely see
myself making good money in endorsements if I make it to the pros.
"Daisuki-dayo," says a voice from the door. I spin around and see Kenji and
gang, drooling over me. Before I can even think what's happening, they are all
over me, hands over my mouth, pushing me down on the bed, grabbing my ankles.
As I struggle on my back, Kenji walks into view holding a shitload of hemp rope
and what looks like a black doctor's bag.
"Kono ama! Nani teme?" he says. Oh god. I know then that they're going to
rape me.
The one covering my mouth pinches my nose shut. When I open up to scream,
another guy shoves rags in, looping rope around my head to hold it in place. I
lay still; cold steel begins to slide over my skin, its journey only interrupted
by the ripping sounds of my bra and panties as they strip me bare. I hear
obscene comments about my large firm breasts and shaved pussy; more hands come,
roughly squeezing and stroking.
They drag me off the bed into the living room where I see two of them with
screwdrivers putting steel rings in the ceiling. I cry into the gag when my
arms get forced up into the center of my back. Ropes start to cut into my skin
around my wrists and breasts, encircling my ankles, pricking my smooth skin.
Then I feel pressure as I begin to rise, screaming into the rags while the floor
falls away. Three of them are pulling on ropes threaded through the rings in
the ceiling; my hanging breasts bounce with each tug, straining legs spreading
wider as my ankles are forced upwards.
When they stop, I'm hanging like some succulent bronze fucktoy, mouth gagged,
breasts squeezed towards the floor, arms and wrists ratcheted high into my back,
legs bent and spread obscenely pointing to opposite sides of the room. I feel
so vulnerable, so helpless.
They take their time admiring my position. A couple of them walk around,
running their hands across my skin. I jump when one bastard sticks a finger in
my dry pussy.
Kenji steps in front and lifts my head by the pony tail, smiling, flicking his
pierced tongue out over my gagged mouth, coating my lips with his saliva. Then
he's moving behind me as I fight the ropes, swaying in the hot air surrounded by
all these men - grade A prime meat surrounded by ravenous dogs. I feel a warm
tongue slowly glide up over my vaginal lips, the ball of the piercing running
circles around my clit before zigzagging back down. Other hands and mouths
attach themselves to my hanging breasts, licking and sucking on my growing
nipples as they knead the firm flesh. The torment goes on and on, fingers
squeezing my ass while the tongue continues to assault my cunt relentlessly. I
lose it, quaking in mid-air as the most intense orgasm in my young life rips
through my hard body. I'm still twitching as I hear them laughing, my face
burning red, sweaty as they finally withdraw.
"Hajime-yo!" shouts Kenji from between my legs. They strip off their black
uniforms and I'm presented with a circle of rock hard cocks.
Strong hands grab my ass and push backwards, my cunt lips wrapping around a huge
cock that surges inwards. Kenji begins slowly, thrusting in and out, swinging
my suspended body. I moan as the rhythm starts to pick up, hands and mouths
reattaching themselves to my tits, massaging and licking them with greater
intensity. I try to fight the sensations, my hands clenching into fists, but
another orgasm rips through me as Kenji grunts and spurts. Only a few seconds
pass before another penis thrusts in, pounding away.
Kenji reappears in front of me and the cock deep inside just idles in place. He
opens the bag and shows me a handful of chopsticks and wire, but for the life of
me, I can't figure out what it means, until they unwind the rope around my gag
and force the chopsticks between my teeth. I scream into the rags as the hands
and mouths at my tits are replaced by what seems like vices, crushing my tender
nipples. I can barely see them attaching the wires to the ends of the chopsticks
before my mouth gets pried wide open. If I try to move my lower jaw, pain
explodes around my nipples. Kenji reaches in and removes the rags before
forcing his cock through my outstretched mouth. Then I'm being hammered from
both ends while dull pain shoots from my tortured breasts. I swim in a pool of
sensation, the primal lust of these men washing over my helpless form,
transforming me into a shapely mass of raw nerves.
I don't know how many times I'm brutally used before the chopsticks are removed
and my body, dripping in cum and sweat, is lowered to the floor. A telephone
starts ringing, but they ignore it and begin untying me. I can barely hear
Kenji above my groans, telling me they'll post all the pictures on the internet
if I cause trouble. Then, with a final squeeze of my breast, he says they might
be back. After they leave, it's so silent until I start sobbing, naked and
vulnerable in that torture chamber that used to be a living room, because I
realize that part of me wants them to return.
