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Chapter 3: Nameru
After the explosion of last night, I spent a lot of time thinking before sleep overtook me. It had been my actions and not Meiko’s that caused her ensuing temper tantrum. What I didn’t understand initially was the magnitude of her anger. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a woman get that mad.
The only explanation that made sense was Meiko’s view of her and me. She handled the situation, not as two adults normally went about resolving a conflict. Her attitude was more in line with how a frustrated parent disciplined an out-of-control child. Before I fell asleep I concluded Meiko saw me, not as an equal, but as someone she expected to rule. I know she referred to me as her slave, and indeed, that might very well be her view. I was still struggling with the concept of me being that slave and didn’t want to admit that’s who I was to her. In my heart, I still held hope we might become a couple but that hope seems far-fetched at best.
Rio entered the flat sometime in the late morning hours. She was the last person I hoped to see.
“Put your dick through the bars and pee in here,” she said after putting a washbasin next to the cage.
“You’re not going to let me out?”
“Meiko is pissed. You’re lucky I agreed to come over here. No, you’re staying in there! Now take your piss!”
While I did, she dumped food through the top grates. It spilled all over my blanket. “That’s it for today. Eat it.”
To my horror, she rigged a contraption that reminded me of what a rabbit would use to sip water. Attached to it was a gallon jug of bottled water. Rio emptied the basin and put it by my cage and left.
I spent three entire days locked and alone. The only person I saw was Rio, and after that first encounter, she came and went after spending no more than two or three minutes. She didn’t speak or answer questions. As far as I knew, I was going to be spending an extensive amount of time in my prison cell.
I had time to think – too much time to think. I cried at times and for large portions of the day, I slept and thought of nothing. Eventually, I wrestled with the truth surrounding my current state and where life had taken me. I was in Japan. I couldn’t get home. I committed to staying. At the time of that commitment, Meiko affirmed, and I agreed, to stay forever. At that time Meiko stated I was her slave. Though I didn’t understand the truth of her remark I committed to stay after having been told her intentions. The following day, she changed my name. It reflected her view with me. From that point on, my training began. Meiko had been straightforward and truthful. It was me who wasn’t being honest with myself. Meiko trained me even though I resisted accepting who I was.
Her response after discovering my ejaculation made complete sense. Why wouldn’t a master become furious? After all, her subject did something completely out of line.
I cried so many times after coming to those conclusions and after understanding the ramifications of the aforementioned assessments. I cried at the loss of Tom Davenport. I cried when thinking I would be in Japan forever. I cried at the loss of my independence and ability to make choices. I cried at the death of me as I had known me.
But, despite all of the angst accompanying my current circumstances, I still had an affection for Meiko. I could see the good in her. Yes, she had anger issues but I also knew she wore her emotions on her sleeve. When she was happy it was evident. When she was not, that too, was equally apparent.
On the evening of the second day, the door to the flat opened. It was Meiko. She looked stunning! I watched her approach. As she did, I felt different. Part of me longed to hold her but a part of me now feared her. I don’t think I realized all of how I felt, but looking back, I held a greater reverence for this woman than ever before.
She didn’t say anything. She looked down through the bars while I peered up. We were a series of contrasts. She was dressed and looking gorgeous. I was naked and hadn’t showered for three days. She seemed completely comfortable in her skin while I felt a deep sense of shame and guilt – especially now that we were together. Meiko’s life had order. Mine was a mess. I lived in a cage. I stunk and beside me sat a basin half-filled with piss. I’m sure she could see the remnants of uneaten food. I must have looked pathetic. I know I felt pathetic.
She pushed a folded paper through the grate. “Read,” she said in English. I’m sure Rio must’ve told her how to speak that word. In English I read the following letter:
“Nameru, my name is Meiko and although you may not believe this, I own you. You are my slave and I am your owner. No matter what you do or what you say will change who you are and who I am. If you can’t acknowledge or accept these facts, you can remain where you are until you do.”
“As my slave, I will do whatever needed to help you understand. I intend to use you and play with you and humiliate you. I will do what I want because foça escort I can. Nameru you are nothing to me yet, you are much to me. I am in need of a slave and now I have you. You can make this as hard or easy as you want. But in the end, you will be mine and I will own you and I will do with you what I want. What do you want, Nameru?”
After reading, I looked at the gorgeous Meiko, who stood with arms folded and face hard and expressionless. I thought back to that first night, that night when I was taken and she had gotten her way. I thought about the days that followed and how broken I felt when she hadn’t returned for an entire week. And now here I was, scrunched within a cage and looking at a woman who wanted me, not to pursue a relationship but to own as a slave! How ironic! I wanted her when she wasn’t there and now that she wanted everything from me, I resisted.
Her letter had a sobering effect. This beautiful woman had every intention to follow through on taking me for her own. Nowhere did she leave room for ifs or buts. This letter was a statement of fact. It was my future life spelled out in specific yet general terms. That line about how hard or easy I make this replayed in the back of my mind.
Meiko reiterated the focal point of her letter. “Nameru, Meiko’s slave.” She pointed at me and then did an about-face and left.
In the hours that followed I surrendered – or at least, I hope I did. Realizing I had but one choice – to make this easy for the both of us – I decided to accept (once again) her terms. I only hoped that when intention became real, my heart would follow without further confrontation.
Throughout the night and the following day, I fretted and worried. Sprinkled amongst the worries was Meiko and the times we had together. Even the afternoon when she ravaged my face was wonderful – because it was her. I couldn’t get enough of her.
The following night she came after dark. I heard her come.
“Nameru Meiko’s slave?” she asked in the blackness of her bedroom. I could just make out her silhouette.
“Nameru Meiko’s slave,” I answered.
“Nameru Meiko’s slave?” She repeated.
“Yes! Nameru Meiko’s slave.”
The light came on. Meiko stood before the cage. She was dressed casually in a skirt and top. Bending close, our eyes met. Meiko spat. “Nameru Meiko’s slave?”
“Yes, Meiko,” I answered.
Meiko spat again and repeated her question. When I answered in the affirmative she placed one leg on the cage and squatted until her bottom nearly touched the top grates. “Open, slave Nameru.”
Without waiting she pissed. Some found my mouth. Most didn’t. By the time she was through, I was drenched and felt wretched.
“Nameru, Meiko’s slave?” She asked as nonchalant as ever.
Meiko screamed. “Nameru Meiko’s Slave!!?”
Humiliated and shocked I answered my Goddess. She had won yet again. And yet again she had driven home or point. “Yes, Nameru Meiko’s slave.”
The room went black. Meiko walked out.
Sleep came hard that night. My bedding was drenched. Everything smelled of urine. I was hungry from having not eaten all day and I felt filthy. Last evening Meiko made it clear she was in charge. Unexpectedly, she arrived the following morning. She was in much better spirits. Opening the door she pointed to her foot. “Lick, slave Nameru. Lick owner.”
The word ‘owner’ was one of those new words I had learned from the recording. I remembered hearing Ling telling me I was an owned slave. I bowed before Meiko and licked her toes. I licked the leather straps of her heels. I humbled myself before my owner and gratefully paid homage to the woman to whom I belonged.
Meiko stood watching my every move. She let me worship her foot and heel for some while. In time, she spoke. I thought I could hear actual empathy when she next spoke. My spirit rose.
“Meiko like Nameru. Nameru belong to Meiko. Meiko think Nameru good slave. Beautiful Nameru. Nameru must obey. Nameru must obey Meiko.”
“Nameru sad. Nameru like Meiko,” I answered. Although I never looked up from her foot, I needed to tell her how I felt. I felt her ruffle my hair. Inwardly I smiled. My apology had been accepted. Eventually, Meiko pushed my face away with the sole of her heel.
I saw her point in the other room. “Heel, Nameru!” I trailed close behind with my nose at her heel until reaching the main room. Another set of feet came into view. These were covered in dirt and above them, I saw plump legs and varicose veins.
“Nameru, lick ass!”
Looking up and saw the bare ass of an elderly and overweight Japanese woman. I saw Meiko smile. She was gloating at my impending humiliation. Without pause, she pushed my face into the plump and flabby rump of this woman.
Immediately, I could tell this woman had not bathed in some while. She stunk! Her ass smelled like shit! The lady probably thought the same about me. I felt nasty. I wondered where Meiko had found her. Maybe foça escort bayan she was homeless. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Balancing as best as I could on my knees I licked her filthy ass.
Meiko stood to one side. I’m sure she positioned herself so I could see she was watching. I tried not to look her way but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was waiting for an excuse to punish me again.
I ate and licked ass for a good long while. Meiko had her kneel against the chair back as Rio had done. For the next hour, she kept my face plunged between her nasty crease while I cleaned whatever grime, dirt and debris from her until she no longer wreaked. When Meiko pulled my head back and indicated I was finished, I felt like throwing up.
The act of cleaning her was indeed disgusting. Meiko, however, remained dispassionate throughout the entire ordeal. She showed no sympathy and no emotion. By bringing this woman into her home and making me clean her while being supervised left no doubt her purpose was to reinforce my status. I was quickly learning what it meant to be owned by another.
The fat lady still knelt with her ass splayed wide apart when Meiko spoke. “Nameru bad. Meiko owns Nameru. Nameru always obey Meiko.”
To my surprise, Meiko bent to my level and smiled. “Meiko need Nameru. Meiko want slave. Nameru good slave.” She smiled.
I smiled and nodded. “Nameru Meiko slave,” I repeated. “Thank you, Meiko.”
I understood. I had been bad. I had disobeyed. Not only had I disobeyed her instructions, but I had also embarrassed and undermined her honor in Japanese society. My lack of loyalty and disobedience had brought about a sense of disgrace. By refusing to honor her word, I had dishonored her. My beating and my punishment that followed was the price I paid for disrespecting Meiko – the woman to whom I now belonged.
I watched as Meiko handed the lady a series of bills and thanked her for coming. Meiko sat on the sofa and summoned me to kneel with my ass to my heels before her.
“Nameru,” she pinched her nose and said something which I interpreted as ‘stink’. “Nameru go clean!” She pointed to the bathroom.
I never moved on all fours so quickly. Making a beeline to the shower I washed and re-washed the filth from my body. Meiko threw my bedding in with me which I cleaned and hung over my cage to dry. She even let me use the toilet for the first time in days.
“Heel, Nameru,” she called from the sofa. I came to her feet. “Sit!”
Rising I put my butt against the backs of my feet and looked at her looking at me. She said nothing. I said nothing. Time stretched on. Mostly she stared with emotionless eyes until I could stand it no more. I turned my head away and look down in shame. When I dared to look at her a second time she stared with an intensity that unnerved me. She had won. I looked away and kept my head bowed and waited.
I felt Meiko’s presence loom large. That feeling had steadily grown ever since returning to her flat. I thought about what real ownership entailed. Meiko had become my owner and now I was starting to feel what dependence and helplessness felt like. Ownership was a concept I had never considered, not when thinking of one human owning another.
The idea of slave trafficking had always been an immoral and detestable act. To think I would someday be at the butt-end of this was still a foreign thought. I mean, I accepted my circumstances. There was no doubting I had made a decision that was all but irreversible. But to think that I was the slave of this gorgeous woman sitting here didn’t compute.
Yet, the facts were the facts. I was in Kyoto. I had no possible way of escaping and, to be honest, I didn’t want to risk the consequences should I fail. I had resigned myself into Meiko’s care. Despite the hardships, I had resolved myself to be ‘Nameru’ to the best of my ability. Ever since making that decision the stress I had been harboring slowly faded. In its place, I felt something else. It was a feeling, a compulsion, and I wanted to act on this itch and see where it would take me.
There was a knock at the door. Another woman entered. She appeared to be a little older than me and quite attractive. Like Meiko, she was taller than the average Japanese woman. She stood with perfect posture and her dress was exquisite and delightfully provocative given her older age. I could tell she took care of her body. She was in fabulous physical condition.
Meiko spoke with her for quite some time. When finished with their hushed conversation, the woman joined Meiko on the sofa.
“Nameru, Su,” Meiko said and pointed to the woman.
“Meiko has told me much about you. She has said many good things to me. However, this week, she told me of your dishonorable behavior. Meiko regrets she cannot speak directly to you and so she asked me to speak on her behalf. I am Meiko’s mother.”
“Wow!” I thought. “Her mother!”
Meiko was bringing her mother into the escort foça mix! This knowledge unveiled an entirely new dynamic. My slavery was not Meiko’s secret. I had become family gossip. It caused me to wonder what kind of family dynamic existed in this extended household – or for that matter – what kind of dynamic existed throughout Japan. I had no idea slavery had a place in this land of rituals and manners.
“Meiko told me you agreed to never leave Japan. I am so pleased to hear that, Nameru. Japan women need more men like you to come to our country and submit to a life of slavery. We have far too few to go around. I hope you can remain in Meiko’s good favor and not encounter her wrath. I hope you make Meiko proud. I hope you will never dishonor Meiko again. I ask for your word on that,” she said directly.
Su had never raised her voice. Instead, she spoke nearly perfect English. Her words remained direct and yet compassionate. I could see in her eyes the love she held for her daughter and the concerns she had with my misbehavior. Su had revealed information I didn’t fully understand. What did she mean about remaining in good favor? Why did she mention there were far too few men coming to Japan to be slaves? What kind of culture existed here? I swallowed hard while listening to her stating facts that were now pertinent to my reality. Even though I was scared about what lay ahead for me, I felt as if I could trust Su. I took her to be a woman of her word, a woman of honor and one who was looked upon favorably in society.
“You have my word.”
“Very good, Nameru. Stick out your tongue. Let me see if your tongue is worthy of your name.”
I did as I was told. Su pulled on it and then lifted it. When she saw all the healing wound she said something to her daughter who must have explained what Rio had done. I saw Su nod approvingly and then smile quietly.
My cock hung mostly erect but with a slight downward curve. Su casually gripped it with no more interest then one would have while evaluating a piece of meat. When I grew hard, she stood and wrapped both hands around it. I guess she was feeling its girth or maybe its pulse or maybe something completely different. Su examined my balls. She lifted them in the palm of her hand so she could feel their weight. She kept talking to her daughter. Meiko answered her in words I could not understand.
“Kneel, Nameru. Meiko has chosen well. Your tongue is more than adequate although probably not yet strong. The gods have gifted you and I can only hope your performance will match what they have bestowed upon you. But even if it doesn’t, that too can be taught. You have much to learn but you will learn. You have much to give and you will give it. Someday it is my hope you will be worthy of presentation to others. Whether that happens or not will be up to you, and to some degree, to Meiko’s training of you.”
Su pointed to her feet. “Suck on my toes and make yourself useful.” Her statement was impassive and bordered on being cold. Prostrating my face to her feet I slipped off her sandal and did as she commanded. I listened while Su and Meiko talked quietly. They never raised their voices. I thought about Meiko’s mother. How different she was from her daughter. It was evident that Su was well educated and came from money. It made me wonder why Meiko did not share her bilingual ability. Because Su had been so candid, even veracious with me, I wondered if she ever raised her voice in anger. There was a seriousness and directness about her that both eased my fears and yet unnerved me.
So many thoughts were afoot. Drawing two small toes in my mouth, I simultaneously sucked and ran my tongue over and around all sides. Oddly, I felt comfortable doing this while hearing them chatting in a language I knew little. Because of the name Meiko had given me, might this be a common practice I would be engaging while she socialized with other women? Only time would tell but there was no denying my place in life resided beneath these two women.
Grabbing a hunk of hair Sue pulled my head back so I could see her.”Who are you, Nameru?”
“I am an American. My name is Tom Davenport.”
She shoved my face to the ground in disgust and then yanked it back just enough for her to spit. Her aim was good. I winced when the pellet of saliva struck my eye.
“No!” She vehemently exclaimed. “You will never refer to yourself as that person again! Not ever. Have you not considered the letter from a few nights ago? Are you an idiot? You are no longer who you said you were!” Su leaned forward. Her hand still maintained a grip on my hair. “Let me be absolutely clear. I want to know who you are now. I want to know who you have been from the moment you agreed to remain in Japan. I want to know who that person is and who that person will always be. Who are you?
Any thoughts of this woman being calm and cool were immediately destroyed. She had the same flair for anger Meiko had displayed with me. With Su, I sensed an authority that belied her soft outer features. I was interacting with a woman who didn’t dance around issues. She attacked them straight on. While confronting my ill-thought response, I noticed her eyes narrow. I thought I saw her nares flare with irritation in response to my stupid remark.
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