Chapter 47 Japanese Bondage: The Education of a Sadist
Chapter 47 Japanese Bondage: The Education of a Sadist
Now that the nipple-corsage was firmly in place, Richard Chan gave his
thuggish companion new direction. "Dao, take the string that is hanging from
Miss Wu's hair and pull it down so that it passes through the middle ring."
Qieu had wondered why Chan had had Dao tie her pony tail into a tight knot
earlier. She was now about to find out.
Moment later Qieu also learned the purpose of the third, central ring on
the Kneeler. Dao pulled her head back, so that she was looking upward at the
dingy rafters of the dungeon ceiling and at the jack-o'-lantern smile of the
tall tormentor who stood above her.
Then Dao's face disappeared as he crouched down, pulling at the twine
even harder, as he pulled it through the ring that was mounted on the 'ankle'
side of the Nanking Kneeler. Qieu could feel her back arch painfully as her
head was pulled further and further back.
Richard Chan looked on, his rapacious organ throbbing with desire as his
minion gave the twine that bound her pony tail another strong tug, bending her
even further backwards. Qieu's athletic but sensuous thigh muscles were boldly
defined against her flesh, the curvature of her rib cage pressed more firmly
against the tightly-stretched skin of her midsection, and her perfectly-sculpted
breasts were lifted so that they pointed skyward.
"Tie it off," Richard Chan ordered, and as Dao knelt to secure the knot,
he was interrupted by his master's angry voice. "Bah!! You released the
tension, you fool! I want that cord so tight that she feels it in every strand
of her hair! Do you hear me?!"
"Sorry, sire," Dao mumbled, and he tugged on the thin cord until Qieu
cried out from the pain that she felt in the roots of each of her hundred
thousand hairs. It was as if a thousand demons were pulling at her fine raven
tresses.
"That's better. Now tie it off, without releasing the tension.
Good...Excellent."
********
The Japanese had long been Richard Chan's mentors in terms of
intricate bondage positions. Not long after his graduation from Oxford during
the mid 1860's his late father had taken he and and his brother George on a tour
of Japan. Jiang Shao Chan, a gangster aristocrat himself, had considered it
appropriate that his sons learn the ropes, as it were, of manhood. It was only
proper that the sons of such an august personage learn the proper relationship
between male master and female submissive. And where better to learn such
lessons than in Japan in the last years of the feudal Tokugawa shogunate, a
period of considerable depravity among some of the Japanese nobility.
The highlight of that trip had been a most stimulating week spent at the
great estate of Lord Yamasone -- the Feared One as he was known to his cowering
vassals -- near beautiful Lake Hakone in the shadow of Fujiyama. On each night
of their stay the great daimyo, or feudal lord, had presented tableaux of
beautiful young women and adolescent girls, the wives and daughters of his
vassals, enmeshed in bondage positions of astonishing intricacy.
On their final night at the castle of Yamasone, the Feared One had
entertained his honored guests by offering for their pleasure the punishment of
one Yumi, the comely daughter of one of his tenant farmers. Yumi, a nicely
curved seventeen-year-old, had apparently dared to resist the Daimyo's embraces.
Yamasone's minions had suspended the tempting young creature's nude body by one
ankle from a rafter in the ceiling of the great hall. Then one of Yamasone's
beautiful concubines had spent some minutes stimulating Yumi's nipples by
stroking them skillully with a wing-feather from one of Yamasone's stable of
hunting falcons.
Once the girl's pleasure-buds were sufficiently protruding from her
shapely breasts, the captain of Yamasone's guardsmen used a thin but sturdy
cord to prepare tiny nooses, which he cinched painfully tight around her
puckering nuggets. Then he carefully anchored the nipple cords to the same
rafter from which she hung, thus allowing Yumi to be tortured, in the spirit of
the Japanese art of jiu-jitsu, by the weight of her own slender but shapely
body.
The final refinement of her ordeal had been the application of a dozen
pussy-burning strokes between her slim legs with a six-thonged eelskin whip, one
each by the eight guardsmen and then one each by Yamasone and his three eager
guests. The soft but stinging eelskin whip, Yamasone had assured them, had been
fashioned from eels much like the delicious unagi on which they had just dined.
After the brothers had retired late that evening, Yamasone sent one of
his servants to escort the offending beauty to the room Richard and George Chan
were sharing, with the message that the still-aroused young gentlemen were at
liberty to put into practice the arts they had learned during their brief stay.
After removing Yumi's only garment, a new white kimono with the Chinese
ideograph for "Slave" boldly embroidered in red across the back, they had used
her obi, her red kimono-sash, to tie the young maiden's arms behind her back,
fingertip to elbow. Then Richard Chan had lain face up on the tatami mat and
undone his own kimono, revealing his swollen spear of man-flesh. His brother
had forced Yumi to kneel down, straddling Richard, but facing in the other
direction, so that Richard was treated to the lovely sight of her nicely-cleft
bottom moving up and down while she swallowed his erect organ with her girlish
vagina.
Meanwhile George had armed himself with a yard-long length of Hokkaido
bamboo and ordered Yuki to bounce more energetically on his brother's phallus.
When her response was only half-hearted, George slashed at her defenseless
peach-sized breasts with the knobby cane.
That vicious stroke incited Yuki to greater efforts, and she began to
dance on his brother's manhood as if her life and health depended on pleasing
him. As indeed it did. But even at that young age Richard had been possessed
of remarkable sexual stamina, and after long minutes of bouncing up and down on
his sturdy erection, Yuki's energies flagged, and her movements became less
enthusiastic. She had no sooner committed this unpardonable transgression,
though, than George attacked her breasts with the cane again, this time
blistering her perky brown nipples.
And so the night had gone, with each of the Brothers Chan taking turns
underneath their nubile concubine de soir, while the other flogged her succulent
breasts, belly, and thighs each time she slackened her efforts. By dawn, the
beautiful farmer's daughter was half-crazed with agony, the last foot of the
once-pale bamboo was splattered a brilliant scarlet, and the two sleepless sons
of Jiang Shao Chan were confirmed disciples of the unholy cult of sexual sadism.
*******
Notwithstanding this one unforgettable encounter, however, in Richard
Chan's opinion some of the Japanese bondages he had seen were so complex, with
ropes running in all directions, that a Master did not have the proper access to
his pain-wracked work of art.
Richard viewed this as curious because it seemed to run counter to the
Japanese cultural outlook that generally seemed to subscribe to the belief that
"less is more". An ethos of simplicity that one saw in their rock gardens, in
their origami, the art of paper folding, in their ikebana, or flower arranging,
or in their chano-yu, their refined and ritualistic tea ceremony, which however
complicated in detail, left a guest with an overall impression of austere
simplicity. In each of these aspects, the Japanese seemed to seek simplicity
and harmony in art and culture; but in bondage, at times, some of their
practitioners yielded to an almost baroque taste for artistic and erotic
complexity.
