Honey Flava

Kazue went to prepare my bathwater. In Japan everyone uses the same water. It’s tradition that guests bathe first, and I thought to myself, Thank goodness I am company! The thought of getting into someone else’s nasty, dirty bathwater was not appealing. That sounded like a good way to get all kinds of unwanted pussy infections. In the bathroom, a sink was outside the actual room that housed the hot tub. The water was a beautiful green that smelled like pine, which was supposed to be good for the body.

Kazue showed me how to scoop the water out to rinse myself off, before getting into the hot tub. The tub was not for bathing, I was told. It was for soaking and relaxing. A timer was set for one minute of soaking. After soaking in the green water, I was supposed to set the timer again to soak one minute in the ice-cold-water basin. After Kazue left, I knew I wasn’t going to do the ice-cold water, so I wasn’t even going to trip about it. I just pretended to get in it, splashing my hand around in the water to make it sound like I was actually rinsing off.

A huge picture window faced the back of the house, which was surrounded by trees. I was pretty sure someone was looking at me. Hell, as big as the window was, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Japan was watching me. The tub was so narrow I had to almost wash up in a fetal position. So I climbed out of the tub and straddled my legs over the sides of it and took the sea sponge and started to trickle green pine water down my pussy. The water gave my pussy a little buzz like it was some kind of Japanese magic potion. The more I rubbed my clit with that sponge, the more my nipples hardened and the more my pussy started to light up. The movement in the bushes began to appear obvious, and I figured it was now showtime.

8

I TURNED MYSELF OVER and lay across the tub so that my legs were hoisted high in the air so that my pussy could be seen from the back. Without trying to fall headfirst in the tub, I opened my legs as far as I could and reminded myself of one of those contortionists from the UniverSoul Circus. I worked my pussy, alternating from the back to the front, until the cum from my pussy mixed with the pine in the water. The combination of the cool night air and the hot pussy juices gave me aftershocks that caused me to turn over and finish myself off by rubbing my clit until I came again. With the little strength I had left, I slid back into the tub and enjoyed the rest of my therapeutic bath.

When I was ready to get out of the water, Masaki’s wife, Meiko, escorted me to my room and started drying me off. I thought she was just going to dry my back, but she dried between my toes, in my ass, and under my pussy. In another time and place I would probably have thought she was trying to jump my bones, but she caressed me in a way that relaxed me and put me in a meditative state. I figured my paranoia was probably just the sake settling in.

Meiko then started to rub me down with some pine-smelling oil that was warm to the touch. She used some hand massager as she rubbed it on me, then she parted my legs to rub it on my pussy. My clit responded in the most inappropriate way. Noticing what she had done, she placed a silk pillow behind me to elevate my hips and pulled out some pink, Japanese-looking “bullet.” She parted my legs gently and used her fingers to pull back the hood of my clit, exposing my swollen knot.

9

SHE USED SOME TYPE of clamp to hold the hood in place so it would not obstruct what she was doing and also had a stream of cold air blowing on it with the other hand. With her thumb she began massaging my clit until I started mumbling some American obscenities, like “Oh, shit,” “Work that pussy,” or something ghetto like that. Good thing she didn’t understand what I was talking about. After acting like a pussy-whipped fool, she started buzzing me with that little pink bullet, and I never saw it coming. By the time she finished with me, it felt like I had undergone some sort of electric shock therapy.

My pussy felt better than it had ever felt in my life, and I knew my pussy lips must have been smiling! I could hardly walk, but gimpy-legged as I was, I managed to hobble over to some sort of chair that had the oddest shape. Seeing that I could hardly stand up, Meiko helped me to the chair. Without even letting me catch my breath, she strapped me to the chair with leather straps and metal clamps. My head and neck were positioned toward the floor. The middle of the chair had my exposed pussy elevated upward. My legs were straddled to the sides, reminding me of those stirrups the doctor uses when you get a Pap smear. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn I was in some kind of “fucking chair.” I knew Japanese technology was advanced, but a “fucking chair,” how fucking great was that?!

The whole time Meiko was drying me off, Masaki and Kazue were watching. Kazue took Masaki’s silk robe off to expose his pink, erect dick, and with two hands he pulled back his foreskin (making the head of his dick look like a cherry Blow Pop), while Meiko lubricated it with some green stuff. I couldn’t get up if I wanted to because the chair had me on lockdown. Meiko applied the same green stuff to my pussy, and when she finished, she bowed to Masaki and he bowed to her, then she took her place beside Kazue. It just hit me that this was what Masaki must have been babbling about back at the temple. Oh, well, I figured, we might not have been able to speak each other’s language, but we were about to break down all barriers and communicate in that universal language of sex.

10

MASAKI ENTERED ME SLOWLY as he stood over me with his hands on his hips, looking like one of those ancient samurai warriors. Handrails and straps were built into the chair, making it easy for him to keep pumping me without coming up for air or losing balance. The way my pussy was elevated, he could go deep inside me without me having to raise my legs. The shape of the chair made it easy for him to rock it slightly, making his dick go in and out of me on every other stroke. He kept mumbling some Japanese jargon, which probably was on the lines of “Whose pussy is this!” or more likely “I’m getting ready to cum!” Just as I was thinking that, he pulled his dick out of my pussy and positioned himself behind me and came all over me, making sure he deposited most of his cum on my face.

On cue, Meiko wiped his limp dick off like it was made of gold, and Kazue helped him with his robe, and he exited the room after taking a long bow in my direction. Together Meiko and Kazue bathed me in the green pine water, laid me on the futon, massaged me with some warm oil, and left me alone for a while to recuperate. When I joined the family in the living room, Meiko was preparing our meal, Sawa and Itasuki were juggling, and Kazue showed me some of her beautiful flower arrangements.

11

LATER THAT EVENING WE all drank green tea and ate rabbit cakes (not real rabbit), and for my last night in the Land of the Rising Sun, Masaki and Meiko presented me with an exquisite black lacquer music box that had a hand-painted picture of a sazanka on it. In Masaki’s broken English he explained that sazanka was a flower that blooms in the winter, even in the snow. It was the strongest of flowers, which maintained its beauty even in the worst weather. I liked the sound of that and decided Sazanka would be my new Japanese name. I was given many more gifts that evening, and as I celebrated my last night with my Japanese family, we all seemed to be speaking the same language!

The Flow of Qi

MICHELLE J. ROBINSON

“SHIT!” MONDAY MORNING, 9:45 a.m., and Tony still wasn’t here. Susan had been here since eight in the morning. This was the third time in six months that he had been late—time to hire another assistant.

Tony walked in at ten, mumbling something about the subway.

“Tony, get J

essica on the phone,” Susan said abruptly.

Some people might have found it a wee bit heartless to have their assistant call the office manager to institute their own dismissal, but Susan wasn’t most people. She had made it crystal clear to Tony that he was to be at his desk on time, ready to start work at precisely 9:30 a.m. each day—not 9:31, not 9:45, but precisely 9:30 a.m. She had also made it clear from day one what would happen if that requirement was not met. Sure, he was a good assistant, but New York City was littered with good secretaries. She wanted—no, she demanded—the complete package. Her law practice was an around-the-clock business. As she saw it, any assistant she had was lucky she didn’t ask him or her to come in before 9:30 a.m. Therefore, she expected Tony or anyone else she employed to be there on time. As far as she was concerned, the minute he walked in at 10:00 a.m. was the moment he tendered his resignation.

After Tony got Jessica Williams on the phone, Susan slammed her office door.

“I’ll just cut to the chase,” Susan said abruptly. “Tony was half an hour late today. I believe I made it very clear to everyone concerned that any assistant working for me needs to be on time—every morning. Did I not?”

“Yes, Ms. Perkins, but Tony is one of our best employees. He does a great job, stays late, and all of the clients and partners think he’s great.”

“Point one—he works directly with me, and my review of his work is adequate, at best. Somehow we’ve become a society that rewards mediocrity. He does his job and gets paid rather handsomely for doing so, nothing more. Point two—he is not always on time or you and I would not be having this conversation, would we? He has been late three times in six months. Point three—he does not work for the clients, nor does he work for the other partners. He works for me. The partners in this firm have given me a certain level of autonomy, not out of the kindness of their hearts, but because I bill over four hundred hours every month and have established a reputation as an attorney who wins her cases. I want Tony out of here, and I want him replaced with an assistant who understands my requirements. Do you understand that, Jessica?”

Susan laughed to herself when she thought of the other reason she was able to call the shots around here. Susan had made it a point to keep her eyes and ears open from day one. Because she was a woman, the partners at the firm had greatly underestimated her. When they finally figured out what they were dealing with, it was too late. Susan knew all their dirty little secrets. She knew who was stealing, who was gay, who was fucking their secretary, whose sexual tastes bordered on the unusual, and who wanted her to disappear. But, Susan was smart and compiled an arsenal of proof, just in case she needed it. She also made herself invaluable, ingratiating herself with as many clients as she could come into contact with as well as compiling her own rather extensive and elite client list. Susan had clients from virtually every sector of the planet, from athletes to actors to leaders in government. She had become one of the most sought-after attorneys in New York City, and not even those who despised her most could challenge that she was damn good at her job.

“Yes, Ms. Perkins, I understand. I’ll start interviewing potential candidates right away.”

Susan watched Tony pack up his belongings and decided that since she didn’t have an assistant for the rest of the day, she would go have a martini and unwind.