#let yuri have pretty fish someday or something

[yuribrd]

At some point in his life, Yuri should totally get himself a fish bowl or two such as these

and fill them with lovely ornate fishies.

[driftwork]

a port story [1]

[ I am reasonably certain I will never go to Lisbon again, the only aspect of Portugal that will come into my life now are humans who have migrated here for social-political-economic reasons, which is the only reason anyone moves anywhere] I had never been to the city before and was intending to spend a few days there before traveling north. The hotel was a nice business hotel, the room anonymous and comfortable. I wandered around the city and was going to a restaurant in one of the nice squares,  neither of the names, the restaurant or the square matter, forgotten as they are, obscured by passing time.  The restaurant I remember  had comfortable chairs, mirrors on the walls, wooden tables, round, square and a few triangular tables, the cuisine was mix of international and local Portuguese.  Some of the international dishes were served with a delicate local reinterpretation, a few clams added, a red wine sauce reimagined with local fortified wine.  Either way I have fond memories of the place.  I think I took a bus from the square the hotel was in, or perhaps I walked, I am unsure. Let's say it was a bus with aluminum poles wrapped in yellow reinforced plastic tape that took me to the district, the square. Which was full of people, adults and children. It was early evening, before seven. I was early as the table was booked for eight. We had agreed to meet in the restaurant at eight, she would be on time, she was always on time, arriving in the district early and meandering slowly so that she would arrive ontime.  I had an hour to use so I went to an old cafe on the east side of the square, the sunlight poured like liquid gold onto the front of the cafe, crawling under the old sun-bleached awnings. The cafe served a vast array of different drinks, it had various types of billiard tables and a pinball machine with images celebrating yuri gagarian’s test flights and a trip around the moon. i ordered  a glass of Marsala and an espresso, and started watching a game of bar billiards being played between two old grey haired men,  one of the old men was using a walking stick to support his weaker left leg, clear blue eyes, his hair cut short and he was evenly matched with his friend,  he was hitting the pins and sinking balls with the sharp eyes of a professional billiards predator. Do you want a game ? He asked. No I replied, I cannot play bar billiards, though if you like and can tell me the rules as we play, honestly, we could play for who pays for the glass of port? He smiled at me, where are you from? Overseas?  A bit, I admitted carefully. Where from, Catus Minor, I said. I don’t know where that is, he said.  The south end of the  Haydes. That’s strange, still never heard of it, but there are so many new countries these days. He said scratching his head and then polishing his cure. So what’s your name? Petr, I said in english with the purely english home counties accent. Petr is the short version that friends and people call me. So youré baptised, a christian he said. Oh no,  we are all atheists in my family and culture. There are lots of deities here, but on Catus Minor there are none, nobody knows why. It's said that gods only exist here in  the entire galaxy… Really? he waved the waiter over and ordered drinks. I know what you need, a beautiful african, good price, about 19 or 20 from Mozambique, just arrived.  No thanks my partner would be upset, and besides I have to meet some people at the restaurant over the square, I said paused, so I have no time for girls or boys either.  So what are you doing here then?  I am meeting a woman and perhaps her husband in the restaurant.  I thought about lighting a cigarette, <cigarettes in those days were harmless again>  but decided not to, i am looking for a man and they may be able to help me. I am just here killing time. Just a second, why are you looking for the man? What for? he asked intensely.  Maybe nothing,  I simply lost track of him and need to connect with him again. I have come all this way from Catus Minor just to look for him,  i would like to speak to him again, its pretty urgent. So i have this appointment in the restaurant, its full of mirrors and memories. I have never been, it has triangular tables,  i  hope we will sit at such a table. I have never been before. Sounds quite exciting, he said, are you paying? no we’ll be splitting the bill, they have money i believe. Is it a place for fascists? He asked. Probably as its expensive, though they aren’t. I left him with the port and walked around the edges of the square to the restaurant…[We met when we were young whilst working in a decorating chain store that sold paint and wallpaper and the usual tools, paint brushes, poisons chemicals and so on. I think we were both about 20 or 21, he had recently got married to his deeply neurotic girlfriend, how could he be married at such a young age you might think, people simply did that in that place at that time.  Later though,  not that much later he became a near-legendary troublemaker primarily in the micro-political realm. At that time to be political, to be a socialist meant that you were focused on the micro-political as the enemy had almost filled the macro-political realm with lessor variants of themselves. Before that he’d originated from the mid-west, in a German high school there, to be in that private school meant you would probably be taught by anti-capitalist teachers and going to the German High school meant you knew of the world, that you’d go on trips across the Atlantic to Berlin, New York and Paris. Whereas people like me going to a Secondary Modern school on the outskirts of London were going to a terrible anti-intellectual school staffed by imbeciles who hated us and themselves  —— in this place we were taught about the history of the local monarchs, the great men of history discourses that the imbeciles liked. Now that I think of it in those days there were still teachers who left to travel to the colonies and ex-colonies to preach and convert. Others who were ex-colonials explaining how good the empire was for everyone.  A few years later, i remember it well, in a cafe in north London, their children were still explaining that American, French and Belgium colonialism was worse, they were children and couldn't count. Not long after that these same people decided to start murdering people again.  Eventually I took the line of flight as far away as I could travel, whilst he continued to drift around europe.  When we  finally separated we still spent a few summer vacations in various cities and seaside towns, Italy, south western France, the Balkans.  He dreamed of painting, his output consisting mostly of windows with shutters, still lives, iron bars, plastic frames and occasionally lace curtains that hinted at humans hiding, mostly from themselves behind the lace.  When he stopped painting or drawing we would go for a walk. It was on the last of these walks, the last time we were together that he said, someday if I kill myself, I'll do it slowly, as if I have a terminal illness over a six month or year long period, saying delirious goodbyes from the hospital bed. Did he do that, is my search in vain?]

When I arrived at the restaurant they were already sitting at a triangular table with a small crystal pitcher full with vodka martini, slices of lemon floating, there were three martini glasses on the table, theirs not quite full, mine empty. She poured some of the perfect liquid into my glass.  Hello, I said, how ae you?  They looked neutrally at my face, you look younger than we expected she said. Its the relativity effect. Time passes more slowly during space travel, even now. A friend is always a friend, he said philosophically. We exchanged small talk, briefly touching on the stories of our lives. The events, music, images and stories, the politics, communities and cultures we had passed through in the recent past.  I told them about the media at home, they told me about how their local right-wing discourse had become dominant by allowing itself to be subculturized, falsified and socialized.  They were, (I remember sitting there sipping the drink,) database animals... their social values and standards were always dysfunctional, which is why they felt a pressing need to  construct alternative values and standards. Eventually this faded away and it had become clearer who we were. Only then, when it may have become impossible, we began to talk about the reason why  I wanted to meet them... Eventually after  they explained about the suicide, the leap from the 22nd floor onto the plaza in the middle of the night. Wait, I said,  where was he buried? where are his remains I asked.  But most of all I wanted to know  what were his motives ? why ? We don't know his personal motives, he never told us about his personal motives for anything.  You must have known something, was he depressed, mad, pregnant, you had eyes to see the state of things?  He stroked his beard and eyebrows,  a strangely neutral and yet erotic gesture directed I thought at her.  He poured some more martini into his glass, ordered some more liquor. But they couldn't say anymore.  They couldn't say where he was buried, nor even how his body was dealt with, did someone inherit his kidney, heart, eyes, liver?  Cremated, buried, frozen... I ate  pan fried fish,  fried sweet potato chips,  some forgotten vegetables, an unmemorable desert.  They disappeared into Brasil.  Days later as I prepared to leave Lisbon  the doubts crept in,  I thought, that perhaps,  I should confirm he was dead by speaking to some other people, perhaps their were some family members still living in the  house in S.Ware,  I couldn't remember the number, the street must look the same though. Perhaps he is still alive.  That's all there is.... I had six months after all before the ship was leaving for home and needed to fill my time with something... [for Armando]

[iohourtime]

Yamada Ryosuke x Nakayama Yuma

Potato 2017.12

Thanks to Momozzz32 on weibo for the clear scans.  Please let me know if there are any errors.

As we worked together, our camaraderie grew.

Nakayama: Long time no see. [We haven’t met] since we ate together in March?

Yamada: I saw you more recently [than that].

Nakayama: No, no, I have not seen you for about half a year already!

Yamada: Oh, is that so? (Laughs)

Nakayama: Lately, Yamada-kun has been so busy, you know. I am worried about your health.

Yamada: Everything’s OK! When was the first time we met?

Nakayama: It’s Hawaii. 2007.

Yamada: That's right, and since Yuma said "he knows everything about pro wrestling", we ended up challenging each other [to a match]. Then I won (laughs)! I was soooo disappointed!

Nakayama: Moreover, even though I used all my skills right from the start, you got out of [the hold] easily and counterattacked; the difference in power was evident. I did not want to do it again (laughs).

Yamada: At that time, Yuma ... was like an imp (laughs). I was seriously thinking, where did they find this kid? Well, you grow up into a beautiful [man]. Johnny-san’s eye for people is amazing!

Nakayama: In contrast, Yamada-kun was already fully formed at that time. I was shocked that "a person with such a beautiful face exists!”

Yamada: No, no. Before I debuted, I was also a bit of an imp (laughs). We started really hanging out after the formation of NYC, right?

Nakayama: That's right. (Looking at the interview from that time) At that time I was still living in Osaka, so I had to come to Tokyo every time we had NYC related interviews ... it took 5 hours to make the trip for a 2 hour interview and photo shoot. I thought “did I really have to come to Tokyo?” (laughs).

Yamada: It was tough to commute, wasn’t it? But at that time, Chinen (Yuri) or I did not know how to talk [in interviews] at all, so we relied on Yuma for the heavy lifting.

Nakayama: No, I feel like I was was just following Yamada-kun.

Yamada: No that wasn’t right, I think you helped us a lot. ... Anyway, I enjoyed NYC's activities. Even now, Chinen and I will say "I want to do that again someday".

Nakayama: It is the same for me! It was such a great experience.

Yamada: As we worked together, our camaraderie grew. Now, when I see a program where Yuma appears, I will go like "Oh, you can do it, my friend".

Nakayama: Since I usually work alone, I am happy to know that you look at me as a comrade! ... From that time till now, we have never once fought with each other, right?

Yamada: No, not at all. Often, I am pretty strict with people, but I have never once said such [harsh] things to Yuma. Yuma is someone who [always] do things properly, and I recognized that. Anyway, because you were getting into the role for the drama "Hokuto", you cut off all interactions with those around you and was living without a television or a mobile phone! There are not many people who can do that. I really admire this professionalism!

Nakayama: Well, I happen to be in an environment that [allowed me] to do so.

Yamada: Also, the director of the drama was Takimoto (Tomoyuki)-san*, who is a perfectionist (laughs). I understand that very well because he took care of me in my movie. However, I do appreciate the tough [love] since it allowed me to grow. Even now, when I met him somewhere, he would challenge me by saying "Nakayama’s performance is sooo amazing" (laughs).

*Takimoto Tomoyuki was the director of Grasshopper.

Nakayama: He did the same thing to me, he told me "had it been Yamada, he would be able to act beyond [my] imagination..." (laughs).

Yamada: We each have to thank Takimoto-san for the definite change in our understanding of acting... Someday, don’t you think it will be nice if Yuma and I can work together in Takimoto-san’s work, in whatever format it will take?

Nakayama: That will be great. It will be nice to co-star after we mature more [as actors]!

I want you to move forward in a peaceful manner.

Nakayama: Speaking of Hey! Say! JUMP, you guys can play instruments and dance and sing ... I think you are an almighty group. It is fun to watch!  [T/N: Yuma actually said almighty, so I am keeping it even though it sounded a bit intense.]

Yamada: I am happy to hear that.

Nakayama: In addition, Yamada-kun is also in charge of the choreography. Really what skills do you have! (laughs)

Yamada: It was indeed hard to choreograph for nine people (laughs). However, I was able to see the group in a new light and I learned a lot.

Nakayama: Also, I like the relationship between members. I hope it will remain unchanged, and that you guys can move forward [step by step] in this peaceful manner.

Yamada: (smug look) Got it.

Nakayama: "Got it" [you say] (laughs).

Yamada: Hahaha, no really, rather than setting some lofty goal and trying to work towards that, as Yuma said just now, I rather steadily work on the things in front of us one at a time. I think something [good] will naturally come out of this.

Nakayama: I will cheer for you. After our talk today, I again realize that Yamada-kun is someone who is walking ahead of me. I want to catch up too, but despite chasing [after you] desperately, this guy will move ahead at an even greater speed (laughs).

Yamada: (smug face again) Got it!

Nakayama: So it is “Got it!” again. (Laughs)

Yamada: Hahaha, but for me, other than the members, Yuma is the only one in the same generation that I recognize!  You are a one and only existence.

Nakayama: I'm glad to hear that.

Yamada: I don’t think our relationship will change. It seems likely we will keep having this relaxed atmosphere between us.

Nakayama: It is usually like this.

Yamada: For some reason, at the moment Yuma meets me, he will switch to keigo (polite form of speech), it is something that never changes~ (laughs).

Nakayama: I guess that is my innocent side coming out.

Yamada: Is this your last ditch attempt at increasing your likeability?

Nakayama: Lies, lies (laughs). Congratulations on the 10th anniversary of your debut.

To Yuma,

I am saying what I usually say (laughs).  Yuma will definitely continue an active role as an actor and I think you will have a work that can be your masterpiece. However, I do not want you to [just] say “I am an actor”, as a Johnny’s talent, please take the opportunity to challenge different genres one at a time!

From Ryosuke

To Yamada-kun,

I enjoyed our talk today as usual. As for me who is in the "Yamada Ryosuke generation", I think it will be nice to work with Yamada-kun, whether it is NYC, or on stage, in movies, or on television. For the sake of that day, I will definitely accomplish the things in front of me! Let's go fishing as well.

From Yuma

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: ¥100 is roughly $0.90 US, for Americans who don't want to have to stop reading and google, which I totally understand. Just approximate ¥100 =$1 for somewhat close conversion purposes.

Also, this is where the story really begins to take off. The setup is complete: let the yuri begin!

CHAPTER FOUR

                                                 ~ x The Priestess x ~

Less than two hours later, I was sitting nervously on a bed in Dogenzaka. Love Hotel Hill. The last place I ever expected to find myself.

Just in case you don't know about it - which I doubt, Sis - that's where all young couples go when they need a night to themselves. Or just a few hours. Maybe the problem is a messy apartment, maybe it's parents… maybe it's just very thin walls in their building. Either way, love hotels do a lot of business - and that little corner of Shibuya plays host to the highest concentration of them in Tokyo. Finding one that would rent to me for a couple of hours without me already having the second person in tow was the easy part, and only cost me ¥3000.

Especially easy considering my disguise.

The hardest part was actually making the phone call. It took every ounce of courage I had, especially because I would be disguising my voice - which was something I didn't have a lot of experience doing. The memory of the call was still fresh in my mind…

"Housekeeping Service Victoria! What can we do for you today, sir?"

"Um… can I have… a maid?" Did I mention I was also the most nervous I had ever been in my life?

"Sure," the woman on the other end giggled. "That's what we're here for! Do you have a special request, or would you like me to describe a few of our top-rated maids and what services they can help you with?"

"I want Miss K-" That had been a close one. "W-what I mean is, do you have a maid named Becky?"

"Oh! I can certainly transfer you to Becky and see if she's available! One moment please."

Some pleasant, inoffensive harpsichord music played in the background until the transfer connected. The entire time, I had been sweating bullets, practicing making my voice even deeper.

"Hiiii! You've reached Becky! How may I help you today, meow?"

"Two hours. How much?" The less I said, the better.

"That will be ¥10000! Are you sure you need me for two hours, Master? I might be able to get all my work done in half that time!"

"Yes." Her calling me 'master' was already giving me nausea. But I tried to power through; I had to know what she was doing. After all, sweet Ann had given me half the money to request her, so the least I could do was follow through. "Hotel Juliet. Here is the address…"

And that was that. She didn't even waste a second hesitating when I gave her the address of a love hotel; just took it in stride. Which already seemed to be confirming my worst fears, but I told myself that I wouldn't back down or make any more assumptions; that would be even worse than confirming the truth.

So I made the room the tiniest bit messy while I waited for her. Then I sat on the bed, shaking like a leaf and sweating bullets. Right up until I heard the knock at the door.

"Housekeeping!" she called in a sing-song.

"Come in!" She came in. And already, I really wished she hadn't.

My Japanese language teacher stood before me wearing the same frilly black-and-white French maid outfit. What parallel universe did I step into?! Her hair was up in pigtails that hung down to her shoulders - or rather, it was a wig. No way her natural hair was long enough for that. A layer of foundation helped to conceal the very slight signs of ageing, making her passable for 21 or similar. Not that I knew how old she really was.

"It is nice to meet you, Master," she said with a playful curtsy. Really, I didn't think curtsies could be playful, but she did it.

"Good evening," I attempted in my best impression of a male voice.

"My my myyyeeow, but you're so handsome," she buttered me up with a flutter of her mascaraed eyelashes. "I'm such a lucky girl that you'll let me get covered in dust for you!"

"Th-thank you." Was I really handsome, though? My disguise was pretty believable. Ann helped me a lot with it, especially doing the stage makeup that made me look like I had a five o'clock shadow. But it was the big bushy mustache and having my shoulder-length hair stuffed up into fedora that made me look different enough that my teacher might not notice.

She stepped out of her Mary Janes and paced a little closer away from the door. "So! Let's just take care of that silly fee and we can get started right away! Victoria said you would pay in person?"

"Oh! Right, um…" Quick as I could, I fished out ¥10000 and handed it over. A double-shift for her. She pocketed it immediately, not even batting an eye. How many times had she done this?

"Thanks sooooo much! You're the best, Master! What can Becky do for you today?"

"U-um, well… get started on this mess. Then we can relax." That sounded really cheesy and sleazy, but it was the best I could do.

"Of course," she said with a huge wink as she fished a laminated card out of her apron pocket. "You can check this out while I get started! Should only take me a few minutes!"

I accepted it without really thinking, then watched numbly for a moment as she began to tidy up the pillows and sheets I had strewn around the floor. Humming a little tune as she worked. Finally, I decided the card might actually be important and took a look.

Hello, Master! Thank you for using Victoria Housekeeping Service! My name is BECKY ! I'm happy to do whatever you need!

Standard services include:

-Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting -Making beds/Airing out futons -Laundry -Light cooking -Conversation

Premium services (additional charge):

-Dancing alone ¥500 -Dancing together ¥500 -Lap kitten ¥1000 -Lap pillow ¥1000 -Tucking you in ¥1000 -Stocking removal ¥1000 -Keep stockings ¥5000 -Foot/neck massage ¥1000 -Deep back massage ¥2000 -Health Massage ¥5000 (Note: maid may refuse at any time) -Health Kiss ¥10000 (Note: maid may refuse at any time)

Prohibited requests:

-Pictures -Kissing the maid -Touching the maid without explicit permission, with any part of the client's body or objects under their control

Our maids are very important to Victoria! Please treat me with kindness and care! ❤

That had me reeling. Just that Miss Kawakami had to specify that nobody was allowed to touch her without her permission… this was her life after school was out. Being constantly hit on by men who had her all alone in their houses. She must have spent a lot of time hating herself on the inside. I had to wonder if that contributed to how weary she always looked, beyond simply being tired. But then I saw the fine print at the bottom of the card:

Our employees (maids) are not prostitutes and are not allowed to participate in sexual intercourse with unspecified persons. Violators of this policy will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All names and locations of clients are noted in our records and employees who do not report in are treated as victims of crime and the clients as the responsible parties until proven otherwise.

Well… at least there was that.

"Soooo," my temporary maid asked as she picked up the condoms I had dumped out of the bedside table drawer - which I now was horrified about since I hadn't even noticed what they were before, "my master seems to have been very messy just for meeee. Was there another reason you called our service?"

The twinkle in her eye when she winked at me said it all: this was a love hotel. Even if I somehow partied so hard in two hours that I trashed the room, no way would I need to call a separate maid when the hotel staff would take care of that.

"L-lonely," I grumbled, trying to seem standoffish.

"Awwww, that's okay. I offer a lot of premium services, but… if you just wanna talk, we can talk. Becky doesn't mind at all." She finished putting them away, then straightened and folded her hands in front of her lap, waiting patiently for my response. Obediently.

"Um…" Glancing back down at the card, I looked up and asked, "K-keep stockings?"

Only when her eyebrows went up did I realise what that meant. But she was already recovering from her brief surprise and saying, "Master, you really want to keep my stockings? I'm so honoured!"

"W-wait, no, I…" Clearing my throat, desperately trying to deepen my voice again, I tried to play it off. "Maybe later. First… what is 'dancing alone'?"

"Ohhh. Oh, I see - you're just trying to decide what you like on the menu. Do you want a little sample?"

At first, I thought she meant a sample of the stockings. Was she going to cut off a piece?! But then she started doing a little sexy dance - nothing extremely lewd, but it definitely made my pulse speed up slightly. Was this really happening? My teacher was dancing for me - like a stripper without the stripping part! But it was over after only about ten seconds, and then she was giggling and covering her mouth.

"Dancing alone… got it. Very nice." As she bowed, an idea suddenly occurred to me. "Tell me about Becky." Maybe if I asked, she would reveal a little bit about herself. Or I would get some made-up story about this character she had invented. Either way, at least she wouldn't be sitting in my lap or any of those things.

"Sure! May I sit here?" When I nodded, she sank down onto the bed next to me, hands folded neatly on her lap. "Do you like Japanese maids, or Western maids?"

"Japanese?"

"Alrighty. So, Becky used to be a little girl whose father liked Western movies. That's how she got such a funny name! And she always dreamed of serving others, making them feel good. She didn't always know how she wanted to do that, but…" She leaned a little closer, and my heart pounded louder in my chest. "Then she one day realised that if she took this job, she would meet Master someday."

"Huh?" Her face was even closer, and my fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly as I fought the instinct to back up. "Me?"

Her nod was completely sure. "My master was going to be the best master. And he would take care of me like I take care of him. That's all Becky ever wanted out of life." Similarly, her smile was warm, and kind. "And I will do whatever I can to make him happy. Okay?"

"Okay. I m-mean… yeah."

"Good!" she sat back with a wider smile, and I let out a sigh of relief. Definitely a made-up story, just to make the client feel gratified in some way. How different listening to that had been from listening to one of her lectures in class; it was like she really was a completely different person.

"Becky," I began as I thought about the list. What was something I could order? I already booked her for two hours, so now I had to find something to do that would fill that time. "What is, um… Health Kiss?"

This shift was obvious, and I could almost reach out and touch the change in atmosphere. Miss Kawakami's eyes dulled for a moment, and she looked through me rather than at me. She took a couple of little breaths. Then a much less genuine smile reappeared on her face - though it might have fooled most of her hornier, less perceptive clientele.

"It's something very special. Becky only gives that to her best Masters, if she can. Sometimes she can't. Is… is that alright with Master?"

"Yes!" I told her right away, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I… it's okay. I just was curious." Definitely something sexual. That was as much as I really needed to find out, but now I felt awful for asking. My teacher was a Delivery Health professional, even if those services were limited to two sexual acts, apparently.

"Of course. Master can ask whatever he wants!" A little of the genuine cheer started to come back, but she was still shaken. "Well, what can we do? I like talking with Master, but it's okay if Master wants something more from Becky. Even just…" She gestured around. "You don't happen to have a broom, do you?"

"No." I thought frantically. Literally everything on the list of special services intimidated me; how was I supposed to let her sit on my lap? Or massage me?! She would feel my curves underneath the random boy clothes! My finger tapped the stockings. "Are you hot in those?"

Kawakami shrugged a tiny bit. "A little, but I want to look nice for Master. Unless… Master wouldn't mind seeing me without them…?"

"Yes. I… wait." I glanced at the card again, then nodded to myself and fished out another bill. There went my allowance… "Here."

She took it and put it with the rest. None of the standard services besides talking were open to me in a random hotel room, and I was running out of things to say. This was the lesser of the evils; taking off her stockings and the sexy dancing were the only premium ones that didn't involve me, so I thought one of those was probably the smartest move. And at least all this would mean was seeing her legs, and I had seen plenty of girl-legs. It wasn't going to matter to me.

How wrong I was.

"Oooh, I really am hot," she giggled as she began running her hands up and down the outsides of her thighs. "Master had me work so hard to clean the room that now… Becky's so warm…" She bit her bottom lip as she slid her hands up her skirt…

This was unbelievable. Both that I was watching Miss Kawakami strip for me, and that it was affecting me. My heart rate was up, my palms tingling, my head buzzing like it was full of bees. She was a woman! She was my teacher! What on earth was wrong with me?!

Barely an inch of skin became visible beneath the hem of the skirt where it rested above her knees when she fixed me with a level stare. "Master…"

"Huh? What?!" Then I cleared my throat, made my voice more 'butch' again. "I mean… is there a problem?"

"You paid to take them off," she breathed throatily, fluttering her lashes again. "Don't you want to?"

Oh no. I thought I was just paying for her not to be wearing tights anymore. Not for the 'pleasure' of taking them off myself.

"It's alright? I mean… I'll be touching you."

"It's what my Master wants, so of course it is. But I trust you not to let those greedy hands go anywhere!" She admonished me with a wagging finger and a big grin, as if we were joking around; we both knew I wasn't going to do any such things. How laughable!

But there was a pinprick of fear in her eye. She was probably always worried she would get a client who didn't understand the way things worked.

"N-no, ma'am," I said automatically. That did get her blinking a few times, but I quickly followed up with, "This is all I want."

And I leaned down and began to push them off. At first, I tried to do it without really touching her, but I looked stupid and she chuckled a little. It was probably 'cute'. So then I pet along her legs a little before trying again, my grip firmer as I began to pull them down.

"Careful!" she warned me. "You'll tear them if you go too fast. Besides… this is all for you. Take your time! I want Master to have as much fun as he wants with my stockings."

Would this nightmare never end?! Not only did I have to do this now that I paid for it, or else she would figure out something was up, but I had to take my time and 'enjoy myself' - even though what I really wanted was to run screaming from Hotel Juliet as fast as my legs could carry me. Trying to take the safe option, I had gone from watching my teacher strip to stripping my teacher in a matter of seconds. Whoops.

Kawakami did have great legs; clean-shaven and smooth, like she spent a lot of time moisturising. It was easier than I expected to whisper, "Very nice."

"Thank you, Master." She scooted back a little further on the bed as I sat back to get the opaque white fabric moving down along her calves. They were heavily-perfumed, probably just for this reason. And the perfume was nice… but I could catch the vaguest hint of something else underneath the floral scent. Probably her natural scent.

Not that I wanted to think about it. Not that I wanted to do this at all.

"Silly Master," she giggled as I teased the fabric back and forth around her ankles, milking the moment. Now it was more because I didn't know what I was going to do once it was over. Rub my face on them? Pet her legs? Just put them on the bed and lock myself in the bathroom? The last one sounded fantastic at this point.

"Am I?"

"Yes." She booped my nose with her big toe and I couldn't help smiling. Why was that so cute? Why was any of this cute?! "Becky's happy you're having fun with her!"

Though I didn't forget to pitch my voice low, I ended up telling her very honestly, "I guess I am. Wow." Then I refocused and slid the stockings the rest of the way off.

"Oh myyyyy. I guess Master has to see Becky's feet now." Somehow, the tone of her voice made it very clear that she was fishing… because she was. Did she think I had a thing? Her little toes began to 'walk' up the front of my button-up and blazer, heading for my neck, but at a snail's pace. I could stop her very easily. She just wanted to find out what I was curious about and if she could cater to those needs in small ways.

"Guess so." I caught them and held on to keep them from moving higher. "I don't mind at all."

Again, she blinked in surprise, her mood shifting. But she seemed a lot more flattered than fearful this time. "You know… if Master decided he wants a Health Massage after all, Becky could use these…" Her toes flexed in my hands. "If you're patient with me. Becky hasn't tried that before."

"I'll keep that in mind," I hedged, trying not to mentally picture whatever that would be. The idea of sitting here, helping my teacher take off her clothes while she called me 'Master' was already enough to short-circuit my brain; I didn't need additional elements.

But then I was distracted for a second. Kawakami was calculating. I knew that look from you, Sis; when you have a case weighing heavy on your mind, it always happens before you either come up with a new angle for a lead, or work through a puzzle that had been giving you a hard time. Then…

Then she knelt down on the floor, suddenly filling my vision. Glancing down, I could see her cleavage — and forced myself to look back into her chocolatey eyes instead.

"M-miss… Becky…"

"Becky will stop if you want," she whispered very quietly. "But if you can pay the fee… Becky thinks she would like to help her master be more healthy. Take care of… whatever he needs." Her hand fell to pet up and down my side…

That was how the game changed. Suddenly it wasn't just about her body being real, and sensual, in a way no one else's had ever been in my eyes - despite my efforts to prevent that. Now she had awakened mine. And even knowing that it was a specific, intentional, targeted attempt to make me give in and pay her that ¥5000… well, I had never been in a position like this before.

"I don't know," I managed to get out, trying to back up but failing to do it well enough - or quickly enough - to convince her. "I might not… be ready."

"I think you're ready," she whispered as her hand slid up the inside of my thigh. "But don't worry. Becky will do whatever it takes to make you… feel…"

Her hand went higher than I expected that soon after she started. And this, more than anything else, sent pure shock into her wide eyes.

"…healthy?"

                                              To Be Continued…