Chapter 5

At breakfast the next morning neither Hyota nor Arora said a word to Niomi. They exchanged comments between themselves but otherwise ate in silence. Both finished, Hyota leaving as usual without even acknowledging his mother.

"And you, husband, where are you off to so early?" she said as cheerfully as she could manage, seeing Arora donning a jacket.

"The village," was his only reply.

"So early?"

"Where I go and when is my business, woman--and none of yours."

"Arora, I am sorry about last night. I..."

"I told you, The discussion is finished. I will return at six. Have my dinner ready."

Niomi started to open the discussion once again, but when Arora said the discussion was finished, there was no use. Even an apology at this point was pointless.

"Yes, my husband,"

He stepped through the door onto the path outside.

"My husband!" she implored from the doorway.

He turned.

"I shall miss you and eagerly await your return," she said with her best smile, a smile which in years past had melted his heart.

However, this time there was no such response at all, only a look of indifference and mild disgust as he turned and made his way down the path leaving his wife in tears.

By early afternoon Niomi has finished housecleaning and was on hands and knees working in the small flower bed behind their cottage. Her mind was troubled and so preoccupied that she was unaware she was not alone until the wife and mother turned to find the stranger from last night towering above her. A chill ran down her spine as she rose to meet the leering hulk.

"Mr. Nagura, how nice to see you again," she forced herself to say even though every word was a lie.

"And it's nice to see you Mrs. Hawasawa -- or should I say Niomi, since we are soon to be on very intimate terms."

Fear struck at her very being, her knees felt weak and Niomi felt as if she might faint.

"Noooooo," she cried turning to run inside and trying to close the door behind. But the brute of a man simply forced it open and stepped inside.

"Wha ... what do you want?" she stammered.

"I would think that is obvious," he laughed, moving toward her.

She tried to get to the hallway, but he cut her off and backed her into a corner.

"My husband will be home soon. He..."

"Your husband has gone into the village to drink himself silly. Your son is at work and the village is over half a kilometer away. You and I are alone, Niomi. Completely alone!"

She sprang to try to get past him and perhaps out he door, but his quickness belied his size and a massive hand caught her by the hair of the head yanking her back.

"Now is that any way to treat the man who's going to make you feel like a woman again?" he laughed.

"I ... I don't have a lot, but I have some money..." she pleaded.

"I don't want your money. I want your body. Now strip. Get naked for me!"

"No, I won't!" she said with conviction but unfortunately without strength.

"You will and I will tell you what else you are going to do. You are going to make be believe you are enjoying every moment of it. If you do I will let you live. If you are not convincing however, I will take what I want anyway and you will not live to see the sun go down. Or I could simply go after your son. Am I clear?"

Niomi was too horrified to answer.

"I said, do you understand?" he shouted drawing back his fist.

" ... Yes, yes, I ... I understand!" she replied cowering.

"Now, where is the bedroom?"

Her hand and voice quivering, Niomi pointed down the hall. "In there."

"Go on," he said pushing her.

Close your eyes -- and keep them closed!" he ordered as they entered the small bedroom.

Afraid to do anything else, Niomi complied and so did not see the man pull a palmcorder from his pocket and set it on a dresser where it was mostly hidden by some framed photos and other personal items, and set it to record. Not that Niomi would have noticed. The thirty-nine year old was frightened for her life and that of hr son, witless and at the mercy of a strange man whose intentions were quite clear. Arora was the only man who she had even so much as kissed let alone have touch her. It never occurred to her to scream for traditional Japanese women acted modestly even if accosted by a stranger and screaming would draw even more unwanted attention. Besides, with the village so far away, no one would hear anyway.

"Now remember what I told you," he said turning back to her. "You can open your eyes now for your surprise."

"I ... I don't understa..."

"Take off your clothes, Niomi. Show me your body."

"I ... can't ... I..."

"Take them off, now," came the powerful voice. "You want me to see your body, don't you Niomi?"

"I..." she stammered, then looking into the man's eyes knew what she must do and say. "I ... yes, I want you to see my body."

"Then... ?"

Niomi slowly slipped out of her geta (shoes). She looked pleadingly to the man who stood out of camera range but his expression told her there would be no reprieve.

"Now the kimono, Niomi."

Her hands trembled, but haltingly she untied the obi and let the sash fall. She closed her eyes as her trembling hands slowly, haltingly pulled open the traditional Japanese wrap.

Arora had forbidden her to wear a bra so her breasts were instantly visible, small but perfectly formed, areoles dark, her nipples stiff with fear. As the kimono slipped from her to fall in folds at her feet she at first made to cover her naked breasts but a "tsk" from Nagura and her hands fell at her sides. She wanted to shrink into the wall, to disappear, yet she was all too aware her torment was only beginning.

"Now, your panties, Niomi. What do you want to show me now?"

Niomi was sure she could never bring herself to say it, but the look in the man's eyes told her he was not bluffing.

"My..." Still she could not say it.

"Your pusshi, Niomi. You wish to show me your..."

I wish to show you my pusshi!" she cried as her hands betrayed her and her thumbs found the waistband and began pulling her panties haltingly downward.

As they fell at her feet, Niomi Hawasawa stood naked before her tormentor and unknowingly before the camera as well.

"Lie on the bed and spread your legs, Niomi."

The terrified woman did as she was bade, her arms coming across her face to hide her shame as her legs opened for the leering man (and camera lens).

Terror was written across her face as she watched Nagura undress, his semi erection already larger than Arora's had ever been.

"NO, please!" she cried as he straddled her chest and his lance, now fully erect dangled in front of her face.

"No, Niomi? Did I hear you say no?"

"I ... I mean ... yes. Please, yes!" she cried.

The huge head of the penis rubbed over her mouth which she at first kept tightly closed.

"You want it don't you Niomi?"

"Yes, I ... urrrrrbbbbb," she choked as he thrusted into her open mouth.

"Yariman!" (slut) he laughed as Niomi attempted fellatio for the very first time in her life. Nagura was rough and merciless. Several times she choked but he kept on thrusting. Niomi's body was shaking and heaving from the near asphyxia and pain. The thrusts grew stronger and twice Nagura rammed it all the way down her throat before withdrawing and allowing her to gasp for breath.

"Ready to fakku, Niomi?" he sneered.

"Please," she whispered, tears rolling from her eyes, "I've never except with my husband."

"Then I have something new for you, Niomi, the fakku of your life!"

"Noooooo!" she cried as he kissed her, holding her nose until her mouth opened so he could tongue her then spit into it. Scooting down, he first licked her nest then began penetrating her with his tongue.

Crying now, Niomi closed her eyes and tried to will the world away, but despite her intentions her body responded, especially when the very experienced rapist/lover began flicking his tongue over her long neglected clitoris.

Whines began escaping her each in synchronization with Nagura's tongue stimulating her clit and unwittingly her hips began to thrust with each penetration.

"You are a slut, Niomi Hawasawa," he laughed as through her tears Niomi began gasping as well, her body's long lost suppressed needs beginning to wrest control from her will.

"And now I will have that fakku, Niomi. You do want me to fakku with me, don't you?"

"I..."

She wanted to say no, run from him, from this room, from this house and never return, but there were two things which kept her there and why Niomi Hawasawa, traditional, conservative housewife instead spread herself for her rapist as he prepared to claim his prize. First, her own life she would gladly forfeit, but she could never jeopardize that of her son. And the second was the timid wallflower of a wife had just had her most powerful of repressed desires suddenly unleashed and was no longer in control of herself or her body.

"Tell me what you want, Niomi!" he teased as he rubbed the head of the massive shaft across her labial lips.

"Fakku!" she cried out. "Fakku!"

He fell on and into her as a leopard might pounce on a small gazelle. She screamed in both agony and ecstasy as he tore into her dripping yet unprepared body. He began thrusting into her with long powerful strokes each of which elicited a grunt and whine from the woman beneath. Niomi was weeping uncontrollably now, half out of agony from the pain and humiliation and half from the guilt from the pleasure she was deriving despite her nest being stretched and abused as never before.

Her grunts and whines became louder which excited her rapist even more, his invasions now faster, deeper and more powerful.

The last thing Niomi wanted was to give him satisfaction, yet her upbringing forced her to feel responsibility in pleasuring her partner no matter who it might be. In addition her passions had been bottled up for far too long and her own body would soon betray her. Her whines were louder now and despite her best efforts she felt the irresistible wave begin to build.

"Noooooooo!" she whined, but it was no use. Her rapist knew exactly how to bring her the ultimate pleasure and he was using every weapon at his command.

"Feel it, Niomi? FEEL IT?" he demanded.

"Yes! Yes! Oh YESSSSSSSSSS!" she cried as the orgasmic torrent swept through her, her toes curling, eyes rolling back in her head and her entire body shaking uncontrollably as in the throes of a seizure.

"Tell me, Niomi! Tell me!"

"I'm cumming!" she cried out in anguish. "I'M CUMMMMMMMING!!!"

"Again, Niomi. Cum again!" he demanded doubling his efforts.

"Yes! Yes! YES! I"M CUMMING AGAINNNNNNN!" she screamed before fainting away.

Still inside her, he slapped her back to consciousness.

"What a whore of a housewife you are, Niomi Hawasawa. A yariman (slut). You parade yourself as a modest woman yet beneath you are nothing more than a depraved whore!"

She could not look him in the face. In her own mind he was right. She should have resisted, allowed him to kill her. But there was Hyota to consider. No, Nagura was right she had not only submitted but orgasmed as well. She was a whore. Niomi closed her eyes but the tears would not abate. She hoped against hope that her torment was over but little did she realize it was only beginning.

"On your hands and knees, yariman!"

Niomi had no more rolled over and assumed the doggy position until her head was forced down onto the bed leaving her nest and anus high and vulnerable.