Stephanie's Trial (12 page)

'You've made
me very hot, Vivienne.'

'No one's ever
seen me like this.'

'You're
beautiful. You're a beautiful woman with a cock. It's the best of
both worlds. All the softness and femininity of a woman, all the
hardness of a man.' It was true. In an odd way the cock seemed not
to belong to Vivienne. It was a thing apart, an afterthought, an
appendage.

'Shall I keep
the teddy on? It looks strange undone like this.'

'Just come
down here and fuck me, Vivienne,' Stephanie said, emphasising her
name.

Vivienne knelt
in front of Stephanie, the cock still entangled in the white lace.
The fluid it had produced made a wet mark on the front of the
teddy. Stephanie pulled the material away and circled the phallus
with her hand.

'Fuck me,' she
said.

Vivienne slid
down on top of her. The cock slipped between her legs and up into
her labia, as nylon stockings rasped together at the top of their
thighs. Stephanie bucked her hips to position it at the opening of
her sex and immediately skewered herself down on it. Vivienne
moaned. The cock felt big and hard and hot. Stephanie wanted it
badly. The whole image of this 'woman' had turned her on. Her hands
caressed Vivienne's thighs deliberately feeling the welts of the
stockings and the long white suspenders. She brought her hand up to
Vivienne's chest to squeeze at her bra. The strange rubbery filling
underneath felt sticky and gelatinous but Vivienne moaned as though
Stephanie had squeezed a real breast.

'You're so
wet,' Vivienne whispered in her ear. 'It's you, you're turning me
on, all this...' she fingered the bra to indicate what she
meant.

Vivienne began
to move her cock in and out of Stephanie's liquid cunt. It felt so
good, so welcoming. She was turned on too, turned on by this
woman's acceptance of her, of what she was. She pummelled faster
and harder.

Stephanie
raised her head to look down over Vivienne's shoulder and watched
her buttocks plunging in and out between Stephanie's thighs. She
could see the white suspenders and stockings pulled taut, she could
feel the silky teddy against her, she could smell the perfume
Vivienne was wearing. She was being fucked by a woman, not with a
cold plastic dildo but by a hot hard cock.

She could feel
Vivienne coming, the cock swelling, the rhythm increasing. She
wanted Vivienne to come because she was coming too, her body
trembling, a long slow build-up as the cock moved in her cunt and
she felt the familiarity of a woman's body against hers and, at the
same time, the unfamiliarity of the woman fucking her like a man.
Her hands caressed the white teddy, the suspenders, the stockings,
their feel turning her on more, emphasising the oddity of it
all.

'I'm
coming...' she moaned, wanting Vivienne to know, wanting her to be
free to spunk too. But it was not before Stephanie's body had
bucked and trembled and locked, not until her orgasm had flooded
every nerve, not until she had felt herself falling into a pit of
absolute pleasure, her eyes rolled back, her body transported to
another plane and then relaxed, that Vivienne's cock slowed then
spasmed, jetting spunk out into the place it had found in
Stephanie's willing sex.

The dinner was
served in a Western-style dining room sitting at a table, not
kneeling, as Stephanie had expected, on the floor. But the food was
Japanese and served with elaborate ceremony by two of the geishas
dressed, this time, in the traditional heavily embroidered brocade
kimonos and traditional wooden sandals, their waists bound in the
wide white silk 'obis', the padded cushion worn, as Kanjii
explained, at the front by girls in training, and at the back by
those geishas who had learned all the secrets of their
profession.

Stephanie wore
a tight black strapless dress, its bodice wired to hold her breasts
in a deep cleavage, the rest of its length clinging to her body
almost as though it had been painted on. Its skirt was very short,
revealing most of her thighs. Apart from sheer Lycra tights and
dark blue high heels Stephanie wore nothing else. She had put her
dark hair up into a chignon and her neck was bare too: it was long
and shapely, its tendons prominent, the hollows of her throat
deeply defined.

Each Japanese
dish was a painting, arranged on various coloured plates, all
shaped differently - squares and rectangles as well as round - as
if a still-life composition for some oil painting. Even the soup
arrived in delicate bowls with little lids on square plates, all
colour-coordinated to make an impression of a carefully constructed
work of art. But as well as the visual aspect the food was
delicious, the soup a lightly flavoured consommé, the sashimi with
green mustard, fresh and light and the beef teriyaki - cooked in
front of them by one of the geishas - a wonderful combination of
tastes unlike anything Stephanie had eaten before.

They drank
warm sake and Kanjii talked about Japan. But it was Stephanie who
brought up the subject of the Seven Samurai.

'So tell me
about tonight's ritual?' she asked when the meal was over and the
geishas served green tea in large earthenware mugs with no
handles.

Kanjii smiled.
'I will show you but I will not tell you,' he said.

'It is a
ritual, like the ones you showed me before?' Stephanie's body
shivered slightly as she remembered the single flower.

'Oh yes. All
these things are passed down from generation to generation in the
geisha houses.'

'They are like
brothels?'

'Yes and no.
Yes, men pay for the attention of women. But it is not always with
money. A man may help a geisha house in many ways, according to his
ability. And once he is associated with a particular house it
becomes a tradition of the family. I took my son. He will take his
son. It is passed on in this way.'

'And it's not
dying out with Western influences?'

'Oh yes, it
is. Now it is mostly for rich men like me. In the old days all
Japanese men went to geisha.'

'And their
wives?'

'The wives
would come to geisha house too. It was not a secret for men to go
there. It was honourable.'

'But your
geishas don't belong to a geisha house?'

'No. The house
my family used was going out of business. I took it over. For my
exclusive use. I will pass it on to my sons. All the old traditions
will die eventually.' He looked sad. 'Not yet but soon. It will no
longer be honourable profession for women.'

They walked
through into the living room and Kanjii offered more sake.
Considering what lay ahead, Stephanie asked if she could have a
brandy instead. Kanjii poured a good measure from a bottle of
Janneau Armagnac into a crystal brandy balloon. He poured one for
himself too. Stephanie did not sit down. She sipped the liquor as
she looked out at the view, the lights of the city sparkling
against a very black and starless sky.

'One Western
custom I find totally acceptable,' he said, touching his glass
against the side of hers.

The golden
liquid was wonderfully smooth and Stephanie felt a buzz of
excitement that the time she had so eagerly awaited had almost
come. Her imagination had run riot in the last two days in trying
to picture what the ritual of the Seven Samurai might involve. If
she cared to think about it, she could still feel the way she had
been laid open on the futon and stretched by the geishas before she
had been closed and bound around Kanjii's cock: it was the
combination of having the nerves in her shoulders and hips so
tortured by being pulled taut while her clitoris was laid open and
exposed and then being bound into a tight neat package, unable to
move, unable to do anything but feel. It was like going from cold
to hot. It was not something she could ever have imagined but being
held like that, stretched on a human rack, then forcibly held down
on Kanjii's cock had made her feel ten times more sensitive. She
shivered again as she remembered how distinctly she had felt Kanjii
spunking inside her. If the Seven Samurai was another ritual of
this sort, it was definitely something to look forward to.

'It is time I
think,' Kanjii said, finishing his brandy. Stephanie did not finish
hers. She set the glass down and followed Kanjii to the garden
door.

They crossed
the wooden bridge. It was a beautiful clear night and the sound of
the waterfall and the chill of the autumn air made Stephanie shiver
slightly in the very scanty dress. The garden was illuminated at
night by carefully placed floodlights and the water splashing up
from the fountain glistened like diamonds as the drops created tiny
rainbows of light.

Kanjii opened
the door set in the grass bank and Stephanie stepped inside, her
heart beating faster. In the white paper hall two of the geishas,
the eldest one who spoke English and another one Stephanie had not
seen before, stood waiting, both dressed only in the white cotton
knickers they had worn before. At Kanjii's arrival they put their
hands together, finger to finger in an attitude of prayer and bowed
deeply. He bowed too.

The eldest
geisha opened the sliding panel and the geishas led the way into
the bathhouse. Their pert bottoms looked alluring in the tight
white cotton that fitted snugly over the cheeks of their arses as
they walked ahead.

Four geishas
waited in the stone-clad bathhouse, all in just the white cotton
knickers. Three of the girls gathered around Kanjii - after an
exchange of bows - and three around Stephanie. She felt the zip of
her dress being undone and the black silk peeled from her body. Her
tights were pulled down her legs and her shoes levered off her
feet. Kanjii too was being stripped.

After the
chill outside, the bathhouse was warm. The six geishas led Kanjii
and Stephanie over to the sunken bath and down the steps into the
waist-high water. Hands covered their bodies with soap and rinsed
it away. As Stephanie felt her sex being rubbed with soap she saw
Kanjii's cock, already starting to erect, being lathered by two
hands under water. Fingers delved into the cleft of her arse and
the crease of her labia, washing every crevice.

The washing
done, Kanjii led Stephanie up out of the bath and they stood
together while the geishas dried them with small white towels, each
geisha holding one towel. Kanjii's cock was fully erect now but
other than drying it thoroughly - an enterprise undertaken by the
eldest geisha - they made no attempt to touch it.

As soon as
they were dry their bodies were powdered with a sweet talcum
applied with the softest of brushes, the powder dusted up between
Stephanie's legs and over her breasts. Next one of the geishas
dripped a strong musky perfume from a bottle all over Kanjii's
body, repeating the performance with Stephanie's. The aroma
reminded her slightly of the scent the black box had produced,
though it did not have the same intoxicating effect.

Kanjii said
something in Japanese and the girls disappeared, filing through one
of the sliding panels one by one.

'They go to
prepare. Now I must prepare you,' Kanjii said, looking straight
into her eyes. He took her hand and led her across the bathhouse to
a small alcove she had not noticed before, set back from the main
room but stone-clad like the rest of the room. The alcove contained
a large, rather low black table about the size of a small double
bed. But it was no ordinary table. In the bottom third a large oval
had been cut from its surface, the edges of the oval padded and
bound in leather. The rest of the surface of the table was covered
with a thin futon mattress into which had also been cut an oval
hole to match exactly the one underneath.

'Intriguing,'
Stephanie said.

'Lie here
please,' Kanjii said, but as Stephanie began to mount the table he
corrected her. 'Your head the other way.'

She swung
round and lay back on the table until her head rested comfortably
on the mattress. With her legs open the hole was positioned between
her thighs. As Stephanie gazed up to the ceiling she saw the
starless sky. The alcove's ceiling was made from glass. As she
looked, one or two stars came into view, the heavy cloud of earlier
beginning to clear slightly.

The eldest
geisha returned first. She wore a red silk Kheong-Sam split so high
on the thigh that it was obvious she was wearing nothing other than
the shiny white tights that sheathed her legs and the white court
shoes. Immediately she came to the top of the mattress and began
unpinning Stephanie's hair, which they had been careful not to get
wet as they bathed her. With a small brush she had brought with her
she combed the hair out, draping it over the edge of the table.
Then she pressed her finger to Stephanie's lips, as she had done
before, to indicate the need for silence.

The other five
geishas returned together, each in different-coloured Kheong-Sams,
each wearing only tights and shoes. One joined the eldest at the
top of the table by Stephanie's head, two stood at the foot of the
table and two on either side in the middle. Kanjii stepped back to
the wall and pressed a small switch, and Stephanie heard the whirr
of electric motors. Suddenly the night sky and the few stars
disappeared and a startling image replaced them: the glass ceiling
had been turned into a mirror and Stephanie stared back at the
image of herself lying on the futon surrounded by the geishas,
their jet-black hair shining in the light. The sight sent a shudder
through her body, a pulse of pure pleasure centred on her sex.

Kanjii spoke
in Japanese. The two geishas at her feet each took an ankle and
spread her legs apart until her feet were at the corners of the
table. Each then began massaging her foot, the arch of her foot,
the instep, her toes and ankles, kneading them with strong powerful
fingers. Most of all they seemed to press their knuckles into the
balls of her feet which produced a sensation Stephanie had never
experienced before. It was as though her feet had suddenly become
not just sensitive but sexually sensitive, sending waves of sensual
pleasure up her legs to her already-throbbing cunt.