Chapter 9

Niomi awoke in tears as she now so often did. The lovely 39 year old Japanese mother and wife again felt the hopelessness consume her, knowing that any meaningful life for her was over. Her life over the last few months had been nothing but mental and physical agony. Her husband Arora and son Hyota had betrayed her, the son using her for his and his girlfriend's erotic and sensual amusement while her husband, older and incapable of a normal sexual relationship, now watched gleefully as his wife was defiled not only by their son, but by virtually every man in the village, invited by Arora to partake of his wife. Niomi, her heart broken, and having been raised as a traditional obedient japanese wife, knew nothing else to do but comply with the wishes (directives) of her husband.

Her life had become a perpetual nightmare of allowing herself to be ravished by a seemingly endless parade of strange men and women to the delight of husband and son.

While son, Hyota took his mother to bed from time to time reminding her all the while of what an incestuous slut she had become, Arora would no longer even touch her. The irony of the husband and wife relationship was that it was Arora who forced her to take men and women to her bed and masturbated while he watched, often secretly, then railed against her for her "infidelity" and being such a "whore".

Her self image utterly destroyed, Niomi no longer pleaded with husband and son but simply complied, undressing and spreading herself for the next man or woman who would use and abuse her to her husband's delight.

Miori, the son's girlfriend, obviously no stranger to the art of satisfying men and women had trained Niomi in the subtle and not so subtle skills of sexually pleasing others and so Niomi's reputation in the village had grown.

She dreaded trips to the village where she was shunned by the women and tormented by the men with lewd and lascivious taunts as she did the family shopping. She wondered at times if she might lose her sanity, or if life itself was no longer worth living. More than once she contemplated suicide, but each time she shied away, unable to take that final, ultimate step.

Even the women she considered close friends had deserted her and she was left to live a life that on the one hand was filled with a stream of humanity wanting only one thing from her and on the other shunned, alone and friendless, living a life of emotional solitude, guilt and blame for what she had become. Her other constant companion was hopelessness for it had long become evident that her son and husband held nothing for her but utter contempt.

She had also considered running away, but where could she go. Her parents were long dead and there was no other family to rely upon. Having been a housewife her entire adult life, she had no marketable skills, unless you counted those she had acquired these last few months.

As she lay awake fighting back the tears her thoughts were upon earlier today and, Yujika, an older friend of Arora's and his comments as he was dressing after partaking of Niomi's pleasures.

"You are a beautiful woman, Niomi, with the most pleasurable body I have ever made love to. What I don't understand is why you do this. Why do you go to bed with any and every man your husband brings home? Have you no shame? Have you no self respect?"

Niomi could only hang her head in silence as she pulled the lovely kimono about her. Why try to explain. Arora was her husband. She was obligated to obey his wishes, even those which debased and degraded her.

"I have known you for many years. You were not like this before. Oh, do not misunderstand, I have enjoyed our time together this afternoon. You have brought me great pleasure, but only a year or so ago you would never have dreamed of doing what you are now doing. What has changed? What has changed you?"

Niomi knew he expected a reply. She also knew better than to implicate Arora or Hyota, for a good japanese wife never said anything disparaging about her husband or son.

"I ... I have changed. I am no longer the woman I once was."

That, at least, was the truth, she thought.

"I'll say," he responded, "well, if this is the woman you are now, then I can honestly say I am surprised ... but certainly not disappointed. I shall want that delectable body of yours again."

"And you shall have it whenever you like," smiled Arora, pulling aside the door and entering. "As you have discovered my wife has become a lowly whore who beds any man who shows the slightest interest. She craves sex and implores me to find her bed companions. She shames our household and family, but she is the mother of our son and so to keep our family together I indulge her infidelity."

"It must be very difficult for you," said Yujika.

"Yes, she taxes the limits of my endurance. I am an old man whose fires no longer burn as brightly as they once did, while Niomi is younger, her sexual fires still burning fiercely and she threatens to leave me unless she can be continually satisfied."

Niomi knew there was no point in contradicting Arora. Japanese men saw only the masculine side of any argument, the woman's side irrelevant or at least secondary. So she remained silent, her head bowed in servitude which Yujika interpreted as shame.

"You know the people of the village talk about you?" he asked.