by: malom_shlasters | Complete Story | Last updated Aug 16, 2014
Michael Barrows, a 21-years-old boy, is sent to Japan as an exchange student. There he will live in a luxurious shogun castle, owned by madam Hiru, a regressatrix obsessed with creating the perfect japanese girl. Gradually, Michael will experience assuming a new identity: the little Kiki-Chan.
Chapter Description: Michael Barrows enters Japan as an exchange student. Living now in a shogun castle, he will meet a new family, including of course, precious women. The owner of the house, madame Hiru, seems so interested on him.
My name is Michael Barrows and I am 21 years old. I was born and raised in Detroit, but after finishing High-School, I decided studying Anthropology. The reason for this was clear for me: Since 15 years old I became a japanophile, and I was really interested in that culture. So, I decided being transferred to a Japanese University at any cost. I studied really hard and finished the first semester with perfect notes; I received a good scholarship and finally I got exchanged to the Okinawa University.
After saying goodbye to my family, I travelled to Asia in a fist class airplane. I was too excited for coming to the samurai and ninja’s country, a nation with a rich story and culture. In the terminal, a taxi driver called me, for taking me to my new adoptive home. In the road, I was distracted watching those Japanese schoolgirls, so sexy, in a different form than the American ones. Finally, I disemboweled my baggage and contemplated my new home: it was a huge mansion, like the ones of the ancient shoguns, a luxury facility. A cute geisha-maid took me by my hand and walked me inside. The house seemed to come from an anime or ninja movie: Wooden floor, slip doors, scrolls in the walls, everything with that elegant and austere Japanese architecture. As I passed through the rooms, I watched a great amount of Japanese women working in different home tasks: mopping the floor, dusting lamps and sculptures or carrying food; those women seemed to be domestic workers, in other words, maids, but they were wearing precious kimonos, and kimono tops for the ones who were washing the house.
My guide was almost quiet, sporadically telling me some phrase in English, and talking to the other maids in her native language. Of course, my Japanese was basic, but I could understand the most part of what she said. When we passed through a room without walls, that would take us upstairs to the reception room, I could watch to the pond garden and there I saw something that made me breathless: There were standing three young Japanese ladies, dressed in luxurious kimonos, and they were totally different from the housemaids.
Those girls were about 14 or 15 years old, but they were almost exactly as anime and J-pop presents the girls: Big shiny eyes, a perfect white skin, long beautiful hair, and amazing stylish body and a gorgeous face; their perfect make-up also highlighted their gloss lips, irresistible eyes and precious faces. I stood watching that direction as we were heading to the stairs, spying the girls as they didn’t look at me; but at one point, one of them turned at me and stared at me in the eyes, with scared look. The girl screamed, and the other girls warned about my presence; my guide held my hand tight and then made me turn round to look her in the eyes. She seemed to be almost scared as the girls in the pond, and some nervous or anxious. Excited, in her native language she told me “You must never—never watch those girls, unless my master permits you”.
I stood thinking about that advice, as we walked the reception room; then I focused in my guide’s identity, to lose fear: She was about 30 years-old, and her body seemed to be elastic and light, like most of the Japanese women; as I was holding her arm, I noticed her extremely soft skin, and her nice fragrance of rice powders… some of her features, combined with her soft silk dress remembered me of my mom. I forgot my thoughts easily as we entered the reception room: the great ceremonial hall was richly decorated in celebration mood; a great amount of scrolls were hung up, saying “Greetings” in big katakana characters; there was confetti, balloons and joy everywhere. Geisha rows were celebrating with the instruments, and I stood enchanted by their talent, and then the administrator –the master of the maids- entered the room.
As Madame Hiru entered, everything got quiet. I was clearly amazed by that woman’s physical appearance. For the Japanese beauty parameters (what am I saying? For every standard on Earth!) she was extremely beautiful: She was a slim curvy woman, perfect white skin, long straight black hair (almost reaching her ankles) and heavily feminine features. In other words: She was the perfect Japanese mistress. She was taller than most of Japanese women, too. Her dress was simple: A kimono top with plain design, in brown colors.
Madame Hiru’s appearance made everybody go quiet. Something in that woman’s eyes seemed to hold a severe law against everybody at home; I stood quiet too, of course. Madame Hiru walked to the center of the room, and introduced herself, then informing everybody at home about my identity.
The geishas bowed solemnly, and I did the same. Finally Madame Hiru talked to me: “This is your home now, and all these maids are at your disposition. I am busy so I gotta go; enjoy your reception and we will see again tonight in your reception party”. The diplomatic speak of that woman contrasted largely with her physical appearance: She seemed to be so serious, almost shady, and most than all, having a severe personality.
After she retreated, I had fun in the reception party; the geishas served me traditional food, and I could talk a little more with my guide: her name was Nodoka, and she explained me all those geisha-maids used to be poor women, but Madame Hiru had adopted them to work in the house. Time came to go to my room, and Nodoka aided me to fit in my new room: it was big, in Japanese terms, and everything was well: I had a bed, TV and a desk with a computer. Nothing could be better. So, I masturbated a little and then went to rest of my travel.
When I got up, the night was approaching: Nodoka gave me a male kimono and I went to the garden, where the party was going to take place. It was a great garden, with a luxurious traditional pagoda, a bridge over the pond and decorated specially for the event. I sat under the cherry tree, whose petals began to fall, and the green fireflies completed the scene. I felt in Samurai Shodown. Then, I gazed at the full moon in the sky… It was a perfect Japanese story. When I lowered my sight, between the geishas groups, I could see Madame Hiru walking to me: Her appearance war even extraordinary than the afternoon; she was wearing a silk cocktail dress, in the Western fashion but with some Japanese motives on it; her long and curvy legs stood bare, like hard wooden logs, and high heels on her feet. That left me breathless for a while.
But there was something that was even more unbelievable: Encircling her, where the three girls of the pond, the ones I had seen that afternoon. They really looked beautiful; of course, in a childish way comparing with Hiru, but they were still precious. They were wearing single kimonos in beige tones, white socks and sandals, and holding curious parasols; the simple style fit them perfectly.
Hiru looked more confident than in the afternoon, and the girls were shy, but they looked joyful, in that well-known Japanese modesty. During the dinner, I sat next to Hiru, as an honor host; the three girls –whose names were Sadako, Mina and Chizune- shared the table with us. They were so curious, asking me everything about my country and about myself; Madame Hiru allowed herself laughing and enjoying the chat, she seemed very interested in me. Sometimes, when I could stop laughing, I could see Nodoka in the next table; she was always looking at me, with a worried expression.
It was almost midnight, and Madame Hiru had offered me some sake; the girls drank some of it too, in matter of minutes they looked like they were dizzy, and later a little sleepy. I really enjoyed her cute voices, reinforced by the unmistakably drunk tone. The girls were taken to sleep by a geisha made, and I stayed with Madame Hiru, watching the geisha’s dance around the bonfire. As the night advanced, I could feel more and more the influence of the sake, but I kept on drinking. My last memories of that Saturday were being taken my Madame Hiru to her room. There, she undressed me, and we laid down on the same bed… It is too difficult to me remembering anything more than that vertigo feeling, where the images of Madame Hiru naked, sharing her lust with me, and then her words as I went unconscious: “Welcome to Japan, Michael Barrows. You will adapt quickly to your new life…”
TO BE CONTINUED
Adapting: The Adventures Of Kiki-Chan
by: malom_shlasters | Complete Story | Last updated Aug 16, 2014
Stories of Age/Time Transformation