Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Happy New Year Everybody

Happy New Year to everyone!
Best wishes for 2011
I plan to continue writing up naughty stuff and hope you continue to read it!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Chameleon is on the Bestseller list

Chameleon made it to the 20th place on the A1 bestseller list!
Makes me glad as I think it is a nice story actually.

Voting has closed

Voting for author of the year has closed at A1adultebooks.
Waiting for the results now.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Last day to vote at A1

Today is the last day to vote for your favorite author at A1adultebooks. (That would be me) so hurry up and vote!
:)

Friday, December 17, 2010

Last days for voting at A1

Last few days for voting for your favorite author at A1 adult-ebooks.
Log into the site and vote for your favorite author. Er yes, that would be me.
You can vote for me in both the BDSM category and the Erotic romance category.
Thank you all!

Monday, December 13, 2010

My next work

I am about half way done with "The Ring" So I expect that it should be completed by January. Keep your fingers crossed.
Meanwhile, The Spider is hanging out nicely in fifth place at A1.
Also the votes are coming in for author of the year at A1 so, if you like my stuff, please go ahead and vote for me.
If you don't, then go vote for your favorite author.
Back to work.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Thursday, December 9, 2010

New work: The Ring

Here is a sample of the new piece I'm working on.

"What do you know about the Guiana club?"

"It is a very private place down in Tribeca," he answered, "I've never been there, of course, that is not my thing, you know."

"Could I get in there?"

"It's probably easier to get you into Hizzoner's bedroom, would you settle for that?"

The idea of a beautiful girl like Miyu sneaking into the Mayor's bedroom at Gracie Mansion threw Bruce into contortions of laughter.

"I don't think Mayor Bloomberg would appreciate that," Miyu answered.

"Oh, I'm sure he would. Thank you dear."

Their drinks arrived and for a moment, which is as long as Bruce could last without talking they drank in silence.

"The Guiana is a private club," Bruce said, "and it does not have a liquor license. The activities that go on in there, I hear, require the members to be quite sloshed, to participate, if you get my meaning. There is a bar just at the corner; 'The Hornet' I believe it's called, where some of the members are rumored to fortify themselves before or after their exertions."

"I might as well start there," Miyu stood up.

"You mean tonight?"

"Why not?"

"Oh sit down, silly girl!" he said.

"First, it is too early; nothing happens there before eight, second, even if you found somebody at the Hornet, don't think they'll let you in just like that, and finally," he downed his Cosmo.

"I'm not letting you go without me."


"They have a great watercress salad here," he added.

So it was not until ten that Miyu and her friend ensconced themselves on a little table by the window, at The Hornet. From there, they had a good view of the entrance door to the club. The smoking ban did not seem to apply to this bar in particular; at least half of the patrons were smoking; some of them even cigarettes.

"If I may make a suggestion," Bruce said, "you should try to meet one of the members here, and develop a relationship with him before trying to get into the club."

Miyu nodded.

The unlit sign over the entrance read simply "Guiana club" and under it a larger sign read "Private, members only."

The cold kept the street empty. After about an hour, a light spilling on the street announced that someone was coming out of the club. Two people left the club and crossed the street heading for The Hornet. Bruce and Miyu sat up a little straighter in their table, like bird dogs on point, ready to flush.
The two persons entered the crowded bar. Two women. One of them wore black trousers, white shirt, and a black sport jacket or blazer under a great coat; she wore her hair in a crew cut, and unsurprisingly, no makeup. The second woman was more interesting. Even on her high heels, she appeared only four nine or ten, voluptuous, but not fat by any means; her blonde hair was cut in a girlish page boy. She wore a brown mini dress and white wool cardigan. They searched for an empty table and finding none, they made their way to the bar where they found two stools, across from their table.

Bruce tapped Miyu's foot under the table. "I meant her," he said.

"You can do a her, can't you?"

"I was wondering that myself," Miyu answered taking a look at the two lesbians.

The blond noticed Miyu's eyes on her and gave her a look over.

Miyu knew herself attractive, she saw the looks random men, and women, gave her on the street. In the genetic alphabet soup of her past, her mother's mixed Japanese and American ancestry mixed with Portuguese gai jin blood, and who knows what else. Her father's contribution was his Spanish Celtic blood. The end result in Miyu was what can only be described as 'exotic': A five foot six woman, with oriental features and light hazel eyes that, sometimes appeared almost blue. Bruce stood up.

"I'll leave you, he said. Call me when you get home tonight or text me."

He left twenty dollars on the table and then he added, "If I haven't heard from you by one AM, I'm calling the cops," as he bent over to kiss her on the cheek.

Miyu felt her blood congealing inside her body.

She'd never been with a woman before.

She looked again at the two women. How was she going to approach them?
The waiter stood at her table, gesturing towards the two women with a slight jerk of his head:

"The ladies at the bar," he placed the faintest stress on the word 'ladies', "will allow you to buy them drinks."

It seemed fate took a hand.

"Certainly," Miyu answered. "Ask them please if they will allow me to join them."

"Yes ma'am," the waiter's look was less than inscrutable.

Butch approached the table; looking down at Miyu she said:

"Don't you know to stand when your betters arrive?"

Miyu promptly stood up, "I'm sorry. I'm Miyu."

"I don't care who you are, bitch," she sat down at the table.

The other woman also came and sat at the table. This left no chair available for Miyu who now had to stand.

Miyu cast her eyes down, whether in submission or in shame not entirely clear.

"Beth," the blonde said, "what do you think of her?"

The blonde sucked on her unfiltered cigarette, "She may do, perhaps."

The waiter brought a split bottle of champagne and two flutes. He served the two women at the table and gave Miyu the bill. In addition to the champagne, the two dykes' bar tab had been added to the total. Beth looked at her out of the corner of her eye. Miyu, silent, handed the waiter the Visa card she'd received earlier.

"Cindy, we might as well test her before we lose any more time."

"What was your name, slut?" the blonde asked.

"I am Miyu."

They both looked at her in stony silence. Miyu swallowed.

"I am Miyu, mistresses."

They downed their champagne, got up and headed for the bathroom.

"Follow us," one of them ordered.

The women's bathroom was empty. Beth took Miyu into a stall.

Her heart thumped in her chest, she was at the mercy of these two dykes; the gun that Thornton had mentioned did not seem unwelcome now. Beth took her into her strong arms and kissed her on the mouth. Miyu's lips opened to receive her. Her mouth tasted of Bourbon and black tobacco. Miyu felt her mouth invaded by the bigger woman's tongue.

She was about to reciprocate when Wham! Beth's fist smashed into her midriff knocking the wind out of her. She doubled over and fell to the floor. On all fours she struggled for breath on the floor of the ladies room. After a few breaths she recovered enough to realize that she'd been lucky the two club members were dykes otherwise she'd be doing this in the floor of the men's room. She struggled to her feet.

Cindy entered a stall and called her.

"Come here bitch."

Miyu followed her.

"Offer me your boobs, slut."

Miyu opened her white blouse and pulled the cups of her bra below her B size breasts. She held them in her hands. Cindy sat on the lavatory so Miyu slid down on her knees, still holding out her breasts to the blonde woman. She meanwhile searched for something inside her purse.
It was a nail file.

An evil grin crept into her face. She leaned over, nail file in her hand and with it she scratched something on the skin of Miyu's breasts.

After she was finished, she stood up, turned on her heels, laughed and said:

"If you dare. Apartment 1105. We’ll be home by midnight. Beth will go first.  She likes to tenderize the meat before we use it. That’ll take an hour. If you last. Then she’ll grind herself onto your face for 4 or 5 orgasms, before going up to bed.  Beth likes her sleep.  I’ll take over from there, and you and me can spend some alone time together.  I’m in an evil mood tonight.  I want to see you cry.  After that, I’ll introduce you to my strap-on collection.  I don’t mind staying up late, because I can sleep in, in the morning.  But for you – well, Beth gets up at 7:00am and I’m sure her pussy will need some attention again.”

She laughed once more. "Ciao!"

Miyu looked down at her breasts. Carved on them was an address:  945 scraped into her left tit; 2nd AV into the right.

She looked at herself in the mirror.  She saw the address on her breasts, written backwards as if by a dyslexic psycho. Tears slid, unheeded, down her cheeks. She replaced her bra, closed her blouse and stepped out of the toilet.



And here is gorgeous Miyo in all her glory.

Chameleon is now on A1

Chameleon can now be bought at A1 adult e books (link below)
Meanwhile, The Spider reached #6 on the bestseller list yesterday!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Spider reaches seventh place!

It's been a very successful run to date for The Spider. It is now on seventh place!
Thank you very much to all my loyal readers!

The Spider reaches eighth place

Yep, it is now eighth in the bestseller list at A1.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Still in 9th Place

The Spider keeps its place, ninth on the bestseller list.
Meanwhile, have submitted Chameleon to BDSMbooks.com where I hope will be up shortly.
Some people prefer BDSMbooks to A1 so most of my stuff is also available there.
For those that prefer A1 don't worry, Chameleon will go up on A1 about two months after it goes up at BDSM.
There is a 2 month delay between one and the other site.
Exception: Short stories only go up at E-1 (like Power of Circumstance or The Surrender)

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

The Spider keeps climbing

It is now on ninth place on the bestseller list.
Alos voting for your favorite author at A1adultebooks opens today.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Spider makes Silver

The Spider has reached 11th place on the bestseller list and has achieved Silver status.
Also, now in December is the time to vote for your favorite authors at A1. If you've ever bought one of my books you are eligible to vote. You can vote once a day.
Vote early, vote often!
Cheers!

Monday, November 29, 2010

Chameleon sent off

I sent  Chameleon off to the new publisher on Sunday November 28th. Now the worst part is the waiting. In a sense it is easier when dealing with purely e-publishers like A1. You know they will accept any reasonable submission, that is then free to stand or fall on its own.
(Small pause to bow and thank my loyal readers)
Print publishers are more picky, since they do run the risk of printing and distributing the material.
Still, it would be nice if they replied faster.

The Spider keeps moving up

Less than a week out it has reached 13th place!

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Saturday, November 27, 2010

The Spider is on the bestseller list

On its third day out, The Spider is in 19th place on A1adultebooks best seller list. Let's see how high it goes.
Check it out at www.A1adulteebooks.com/1663.htm

Looking for a new publisher

With Chameleon almost finished: One chapter or so, and maybe a week or two for revising, I am querying a new publisher to try it out in print in addition to e-book. We'll see,

Friday, November 26, 2010

Days away from voting for your favorite authors at A1

Voting for your favorite authors at A1adultebooks starts December 1st and runs through the 21st.
You can vote for your favorite authors in each category once a day.
If you'd like, I appreciate your support.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

The Spider is up

Finally, the Spider is up for sale at A1.
Chameleon is almost done and the next novel, provisional title "The Ring" is well on its way.



In the Ring, our heroine, Miyu, sets out to infiltrate a band of international sex slave traders. But the results may surprise her, and her handlers.
If she looks a lot like Lana is because, let's say she signed up for another picture...;)

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Chameleon musings

While waiting for "Spider" to be released, Thanksgiving day, (Thursday for all non-gringos out there) I've almost come to the end of 'Chameleon"
One chapter left to go and then some time to rewrite, then its off to the publishers.
Keep your fingers crossed my friends.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Word from the publisher

I got word from the publisher. The Spider will come out next Thanksgiving Thursday. That is November 25 for everyone other than Americans.

Monday, November 15, 2010

The Spider is not out yet

Our arachnid is still in its web. A1 did not release it today. Let's hope for Thrusday.

A Dolcett story in a "mainstream" site

A Dolcett themed novel, with Dolcett in its title has just been published at the A1adultebooks site (link below)
What's funny is that the site specifically forbids snuff/permanent damage, although there are ways around it.
What I find fascinating is that the author got away with putting it in the title up front and center.

Find it here:
www.a1adultebooks.com/1663.htm

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Birthday is now complete at BDSMlibrary

The 5th and last part of Birthday has finally come up at BDSMLibrary.
That took a while.
Meanwhile, Chameleon is coming along at a great pace, but it is still far from done.
Now I'm waiting to see when The Spider comes out.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

The Force of Circumstance

The Force of Circumstance is out today at A1adultebooks.
Get it here:  www.a1adultebooks.com/1663.htm

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Chameleon

Chameleon is the working name of our heroine Lorraine Stapleton. Her main talent is that she can become whoever she wants to become; she trained as an actress. She works for an ultra-exclusive club called "The Network" Here is how one of her assignments begins.

Chapter 2
The Senator

The cell phone’s ring tone told Lorraine that the call came from ‘The Network’ She had only reported as active yesterday and already an assignment was in the works. That was lucky, probably.
She picked up a note pad and answered the phone
“You are to be Senator Raymond Leighton Pacey’s girlfriend,” the voice on the phone said, “You are twenty five, a law student at Yale and a submissive pain slut. You will go to Bermuda where you will stay for a week at his wife’s chalet, at her total disposal. He is handing you over as compensation for his affair with you, which she discovered day before yesterday. Your share is forty five thousand US dollars. Do you accept the assignment?”
“Yes.”
“Her name is Mona Roberts. The pictures and details will be e-mailed within five minutes.”
Chameleon turned the computer on; she no longer thought of herself as Lorraine once she accepted an assignment; from now on, until the assignment was complete she would be Chameleon; any time she was not Mona Roberts. The pictures were already in her in box. She studied them carefully, trying to incorporate the young Yale student’s facial expressions and postures into her own. Additional information on the young girl was in the attached document. She printed the pictures and the document; her printer was top of the line. She made an appointment with her stylist for the next day; her hair had to be a little longer. She would not need much makeup. She called her travel agent. Her first class tickets to Bermuda were already there.
Chameleon shredded the pictures as soon as she finished her hair and makeup sessions. She kept the documents until she had memorized all of Mona Roberts’ mannerisms and favorite word expressions. When she walked up to the plane, she was Mona Roberts
The plane landed at Kindley Field. A lovely young brunette walked from her first class seat to the door of the aircraft not forgetting to thank the flight attendant for a very pleasant flight. Just before exiting the plane, she clapped her hands in front of her face, separating them slowly, like the curtains in a theater.
“Showtime.”
Senator Pacey was easy to recognize. His influence allowed him to wait for her inside the customs hall. A policeman wearing, of course, Bermuda shorts and a pith helmet waved her through customs and into his arms.
“Wow! You do look like Mona.”
“I am Mona Raymond; don’t forget it.”
He accompanied her to the car and sat beside her in the back seat. The chauffeur drove them out of the airport and over the Causeway. They turned south when they reached the big island; Lucia’s chalet was in Tucker’s Point Golf Club. The car stopped at the door, the chauffeur got out and opened the door on her side.
“I cannot go with you any further, Raymond said. Thank you for doing this for me. I shall pick you up in a week.”
He kissed her on her lips.
“You know I’ll do anything for you Raymond,” Mona replied.
As soon as she got out the chauffeur drove off. A black maid, wearing a black and white uniform opened the door to the house and picked up her carry on. She walked in.
“Welcome Madam,” the maid said escorting her into an airy living room. “Mistress will be with you in a moment.”
She took her luggage away leaving her alone. Chameleon walked around the living room. The setting sun gave everything an orange undertone that enhanced the warmth of the place. She glanced at the artwork on the walls realizing that they were original pieces. There was silver and china scattered on two china cabinets. She touched a lacquer cabinet and thought it rather inappropriate for the location. ‘The humidity will damage the lacquer soon’ she thought and smiled. ‘She is trying to show restraint, but cannot keep a bit of the snob from showing.’
“I wonder what Raymond thinks of it,” she said in a low voice.
“What does he think of what?”
Lucia entered the room like an empress surveying her domains.
“That lacquer piece” Mona said,“it is very beautiful; I bet it hasn’t been there too long.”
“You are not here to talk about cabinets,” Lucia snorted.
“No madam,” Mona said submissively.
Lucia wore a dark red blouse over a black satin shirt that reached halfway down her thighs. Black hose and heels seemed rather inappropriate for a subtropical paradise but not, perhaps, for what impended. Mona wore a mauve sundress that left her shoulders bare, a white cardigan that lay on the back of a chair where she had deposited it, white hose and heels and, underneath, matching garter belt, bra and thong.
“Do you know why you are here whore?”
“I am to serve you,” Mona answered, “ you can use me, anyway you want, for a week.”
“Is that all?”
Mona cast her eyes down, “You may hurt me... as much as you wish.”
Lucia examined the younger woman, contempt oozing from every pore on her body.
“Turn around, slowly,” she ordered.
Keeping her eyes downcast, Mona slowly spun in place.
“Follow me.”
Mona followed her mistress in silence.
She led her to a room that had no windows. An air conditioner on one of the walls kept the air chilly. A cot lay on the side of the room and on it was her carry on.
“Strip!”
Mona removed her dress but before she could remove her brassiere, Lucia ordered her to stop. She approached the young woman and her fingers caressed the lacy fabric. Mona found it hard to catch her breath. Lucia misinterpreted the trepidation on the younger woman’s chest.
Her fingers lightly touched Mona’s breasts above the bra, “So you are my husband’s pain slut.”
“Yes mistress.”
“I don’t believe you.” She slapped her face, hard.
Mona did not make a sound, she just looked at the floor and answered:
“No mistress.”
“You are not his slut?”
“I am, mistress.”
“What I don’t believe, you little tart,” Lucia said, enunciating her words with care, “is that you are a submissive pain slut at all.”
Her hand slapped Mona’s face from the other side. Her ears rang from the blow for a few moments. She remained silent.
“Answer me!”
“Whatever mistress wants.”
“Are you, or are you not a submissive pain slut?”
“I am mistress.” Mona went down on her knees.
“My husband put you up to this.”
Mona bent lower, and took one of Lucia’s feet in her hands; she kissed the tip of her shoe.
“He ordered me to come and to serve you mistress.”
Mona rolled on her side, bending over in pain from the kick Lucia gave her in her gut.
“I don’t believe you,” she said turning around, “You will tell me the truth, and I shall greatly enjoy breaking it out of you.”
‘And then I shall ruin him,’ she thought.
She slammed the door on her way out.
The air conditioner continued to hum on the wall.

Publishing titles

The Force of Circumstance did not come out this Monday. Let's hope it comes out tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I'm hard at work on the next two.

Monday, November 8, 2010

A1 did not make the Monday release for A1. Let's hope for the next one.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Upcoming titles

The Force of Circumstance should come out this week, at A1
Meanwhile, The Spider has just been accepted for publishing by A1 and should follow soon afterward, maybe as early as next week


I am hard at work on Chameleon now so I'll leave you with a couple of pictures of Lorraine/Chameleon.

Friday, November 5, 2010

The Spider

I submitted the Spider for publishing today. I anticipate it will take a week or two for it to be available at A1.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The Spider is finished!

I've finished "The Spider" today.
It only remains to edit it some more and I should have it to the publisher by the end of this week.
Next story I'm working on:
"Chameleon"

Details to follow.

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Spider

The spider is in its final stages. It should be finished this week; I'll take a couple of days to edit it some more and should have it to the publisher by the end of the month.

The Force of Circumstance

I got news from the publisher.
The Force of Circumstance will be published by A1adult e-books later this week or early next.
Get it here: www.a1adultebooks.com/1663.htm

Friday, October 29, 2010

The Force of Circumstance


A1 is still undecided about this story so, while they dither, here are two pics of Lana, our protagonist.
Isn't she pretty?

The Spider. A chapter

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter.

Ch 17
Akemashite Omedetō Gozaimasu

I guess I had to expect it; it was to be New Year’s Eve after all and you had to have a party. I told David I did not want to know who was coming or what the plans were other than the fact that I would receive the New Year hanging from my breasts.
Of course that wasn’t true at all. I did very much want to know who was coming and what the plans were since they probably involved me. It may seem strange but, once I told David of my plans, and he told Burt, I began to have second and third thoughts about the whole thing. It was not the party. I hoped no one I knew was there, it would be too embarrassing but I had enough to worry about to be concerned about minor things like modesty. Of course, once Burt was in on it and they began to organize the party I could no longer back out of it. It would make David lose too much face.
True to form, David said nothing about the party plans. My first hint was at lunchtime, at the North Star Mall, when David insisted I have a hearty lunch.
“You won’t get to have dinner, so eat well now.”
Now that sounded kind of ominous, but I knew I’d better follow his advice.
We arrived at Burt’s at seven. I thought it was rather early for a New Year’s Eve party but nobody was asking me. Except for Burt there was no one else there. The men wore comfortable clothes; I wore a purple dress and heels. It did not last long on me.
“Go to the guest room and strip,” David ordered as soon as we arrived.
I guessed the evening was starting early for me. I did as ordered, hanging the clothes in the closet, and returned to the living room; I kept my heels on.
An oriental man, wearing a black and white bandana on his head was setting up his tools in the kitchen. When I entered he looked at me showing no surprise in his eyes. He was expecting me; there was no one else in the room.
“I am Chef Ito. Hurry up, come here and help me,” The man had only the faintest oriental accent.
He wrapped a bandanna around my hair and gave me a short white kimono to wear. He had a large cutting board in front of him and several shallow aluminum pans set up on the counter. He gave me a plastic jug.
“Fill the aluminum pans with crushed ice. Hurry.”
I began filling the jug with crushed ice from the freezer and spreading it on the pans. While I did so, he pulled out several sides of fish and began cutting them into small portions with a Suntoku knife. It seemed like there was sushi for dinner menu.
As soon as I was done, he told me to lay the pieces of fish on the ice, while he placed a large wood tub on the kitchen counter; it was full of steamed rice. I had barely finished with the fish when he ordered me to make little plates of seaweed salad, and after that, I put a pot of miso soup on the stove to heat. I wondered what the boys were doing.
He ordered me to set the table for seven people. The table was rectangular and I was not to use a tablecloth. The only utensils were red lacquered chopsticks, tiny little bowls for the soy sauce, a larger bowl for rice set on the left side, a little porcelain rectangle on the rice, where the chopsticks rested, and a square lacquered bamboo box, for sake.
He gave me no quarter. As soon as one task was finished he had another for me. Slice oranges, little rice Nigiri rolls to put the fish on, and so on. After everything was ready, he ordered me to empty five bags of ice from the freezer outside into the bathtub and fill the bath with water. I wondered what that was about.
Shortly before eight, David and Burt came up from the den. Chef Ito bowed to them and, after he elbowed me in the ribs, so did I.
“We are ready,” he said.
I served the three men sake.
“Sensei,” Burt said, “You may use her, if you want, before the party starts. You will be too busy later.”
My eyes snapped open.
Chef Ito bowed low, “Domo arigato gozaimasu,” his voice was hoarse already.
He turned to me, “Kneel.”
I needed no further instructions. I unzipped his fly and took his hardening cock in my mouth. It rapidly grew erect to its full five inches. His pubic hair was surprisingly long, and straight rather than curly. He smelled very clean. As soon as he was hard, I began to bob on his dick. I easily took all his length in my mouth, and twirled my tongue around the thin dark shaft. I could sense his growing excitement, and felt a little stab of arousal myself; not a whole lot, just a twinge, a faint response to the desire I sensed between my lips. He took hold of my head now and began to fuck my head. Faster and faster he thrust until he grunted and spurted his come in my mouth. It was a bit saltier than David’s. ‘Must be all the miso in his diet,’ I thought.
It had taken less than four minutes.
It was eight o’clock.
“Go bathe,” Chef Ito ordered, “use cold water only; do not wet your hair. Hurry!”
Now I knew. I took off my kimono and noticed that, after all the running about, getting dinner ready, and the chef’s rocks off, I was a bit sweaty; that twinge of arousal released a bit of musk too. Before I got into the freezing water, the door to the bathroom opened and the Chef entered.
“Shower first,” he ordered.
I got into the shower stall and showered with cold water; that was less than comfortable, this being December and all. There was no gel for me to use, only a plain, unperfumed, white soap bar. I used it. As soon as I was rinsed Chef Ito ordered me into the bath. I wrapped my hair in a towel to keep it dry and gingerly stepped into the freezing water. He made sure I got in, all the way to my neck. I began to shiver immediately.
“Stay there!” he ordered and left, leaving the door open.
My shivers turned into violent shakes, I had never been so cold in my life. Through the open door, I heard the guests begin to arrive. I heard the pop of champagne bottles and the clicking of glasses. Spirited conversation wafted into the bathroom although I could not understand the words. I pushed my toes out of the ice water. They were blue.
Chef Ito returned and closed the door.
“Come out!” He ordered.
I was shaking so violently I could barely hold a towel. It wasn’t necessary. He dried me thoroughly with two large terrycloth towels and, once he was satisfied, he gave me a new kimono to wear. It was white, with two large black fish swimming across its length. The fabric was very soft. He gave me two bamboo sandals to wear. I removed the towel from my hair letting it fall free.
“Take small steps,” he said.
Still trembling, with small, measured steps, I followed Chef Ito. There were four men and a young woman, in addition to Burt and David, standing in the living room. They all held champagne glasses and seemed, up to now, very gay, although the conversation quieted down when I made my entry. I did not know any of them.
I followed the Chef to the dining room table where he turned me around, facing the crowd. We bowed to them.
“Let the kimono slide off your shoulders to the floor,” he whispered to me.
For once I was happy to blush; it warmed my face.
I stood nude in front of all this people. I could see they liked what they saw. I wondered how much they knew about what was going to happen afterwards. More than I did, I gathered.
Chef Ito helped me on to the table, where I lay flat, my arms and legs slightly open. Although still freezing, I was no longer shivering.
“Do not move.” He ordered in a low voice.
He began to work at a feverish pace. He took four thin cloth bags and placed one under each of my armpits and one on each side of my neck. I shivered when they touched my cold skin. They were full of ice.
“They will help keep you cool,” he said
He placed two smaller ones on my groins and behind my knees. I almost did not feel the two ice bas he placed under my knees, so cold was my skin.
Then, he began to arrange the different sushi creations directly on my skin. Salmon, Hamachi, Toro, Unagi, all the sashimi he arranged neatly in whorls of seafood around my breasts and on my chest and abdomen. The Nigiri sushi pieces he placed on my thighs and the salmon roe, in a basket of bib lettuce he placed over my pussy. He covered one of my nipples with pickled ginger sliced paper thin. He furiously grated a wasabi root and placed a pyramid of the pungent root on my other nipple. Both the ginger and the wasabi stung my nipple a little. I was grateful for any heat I could get.
He took a picture of his creation.
“I’ll give you a copy,” he said.
“Sit down, kudasai.” He gestured at the table bowing.
As soon as the guests sat down, he brought two large bottles of sake, letting the guests help themselves, and served them a bowl of miso soup apiece. I could smell the fragrant broth, but with my face looking up, I could see very little, aside from the lamp above the table, and the ceiling where a small spider made its way across. I prayed it did not fall on me.
The guests stood up and gave Chef Ito a standing ovation. He bowed twice, said:
“Happy New Year” and left.
I was still freezing from the bath and the ice bags strategically placed at my pulse points were not helping.
Conversation started again, as the sake began to flow. They talked about their studies, their work. They talked about the Olympics next year and about whom would the Republicans run in November’s presidential election. They ignored me completely.
Of course, you do not talk about your host’s china when you are invited to dinner. And that is what I was right now. A very cold serving plate.
To feel the chopsticks picking the pieces of fish off my naked body was, disconcerting. When anyone picked some of the roe from the cup of leaves between my thighs, they could not help but move the leaves a bit and, since they were resting against my most sensitive area, despite the cold, I felt tiny twinges inside me; something similar happened when they picked the pickled ginger or the wasabi from atop my nipples. I was so cold though that they failed to ignite. That was probably a good thing; I don’t think that a river of musky pussy juice would be very appetizing.
At times, one of the guests would let the tip of his chopstick drag, briefly, on my skin; especially if he was picking up wasabi or ginger.
A chopstick accidentally slid under the bib lettuce and was promptly removed.
The worst thing was being unable to move.