Chapter 8: The Sakurakai Okiya Club Takedown

This can be read and enjoyed as a stand-alone story, but deeper character depth and the effects of the plots, rivalries, twists and turns will be found by reading the chapters in order.

To keep Chiyako onside, plus keep on the good side of Captain Endo, I had donated my Japanese translator, Yui, to Endo. An easy decision as she was surplus to my needs with Chiyako, Susanah and Konomi keeping me busy in the sack.

I was watching Yui and her younger sister, Nanase, sexfighting on stage at the Sakurakai Okiya, Japanese for “Cherry Blossom Geisha House,” before an audience of ex-Kempeitai. During WW2, the Kempeitai was basically a brutal mix of military police, secret police, and intelligence ops, notorious for interrogations, espionage, and keeping “order” in occupied territories.

At their club, they relived memories and enjoyed sex shows like this. Tonight, it was just the two sisters, bound by blood but forced by circumstances, originally orchestrated by me, to fight sexually, knowing defeat meant a gangbang from the baying crowd.

Yui, the 28-year-old once-fierce protector of her younger sibling, circled her like a predator. Nanase was 19 and waited on the tatami mat, her slim body naked and tense, ready to destroy her sister. Yui’s eyes burned with a mix of resentment and twisted hunger: all those years shielding Nanase from Hiroshima’s ruins, only for her to become some Australian major’s slut and drag them both into this hell.

“You think you’re the victim here, little sister?” Yui snarled, her voice low and venomous, stripping off her own robe to reveal her rounded 34C curves, sweat already glistening on her skin. “All this time, I protected you, fed you, kept you safe, and you repaid me by whoring for that pig, Bill? Spreading for him while I fucked him to get him to search for you?”

She lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of Nanase’s dark hair and yanking her close, their bodies slamming together into a standing trib. “Tonight, you learn what real protection costs. I’ll fuck the weakness out of you until you beg to be my slut after the Kempeitai have had their fun”

Nanase writhed, shoving Yui’s legs apart and trying to pull them apart, knowing a standing trib would allow her older, bigger sister to hold her and rake her pussy with hers. She squirmed free, but Yui was relentless, flipping them onto the white mat, and her fingers went for her younger sister’s shaved slit.

“Look at you, already wet like the trained whore Yalina made you,” Yui taunted, her fingers tracing her sister’s cunt lips before plunging two inside. Nanase arched, a cry escaping her lips as Yui curled them and pumped them in and out. She ground her thumb against Nanase’s clit, which, accompanied by her fingering, made Nanase’s hips jerk.

I was interrupted while sitting alone at my table, if you don’t count the glares from the ex-Kempeitai officers scattered around the room, whose eyes glared like I personally dropped the atomic bombs, by Yalina. I knew she was Eurasian from her exotic blend of Asian delicacy and Western directness. I thought she was probably half White Russian, and her background was the chaotic underbelly of late 1930s Shanghai, where refugees and opportunists mixed like oil and fire.

She wore her signature dudou, an old-time Chinese, diamond-shaped scrap of silk that clung to her 32B breasts and flat belly, secured by thin gold chains around her neck and waist. It left her back entirely bare, exposing her smooth skin and the black garter belt that hugged her hips and held up sheer stockings did nothing to hide the prominent mound of her shaved pussy as she wore no skirt. She balanced in high-heeled Japanese wooden sandals, which clicked loudly on the wooden floor as she walked. I knew she was bisexual, an expert in female interrogation using things like acupuncture blocks to strap-on dominance to turn the club’s victims into willing sluts with clinical efficiency.

Yalina leaned over my table and fixed me with that impassive stare. “Major Walters,” she purred, voice low and accented with a hint of Russian growl, “You look like a man in need of real entertainment.”

She licked her lips as she watched the action onstage. Yui was in control. “Look at you, already wet like the trained whore Yalina made you,” she taunted, her fingers tracing her sister’s wet cunt lips before she plunged two inside. Nanase arched, a cry escaping her lips as Yui curled them, then pumped them quickly and hard. “Remember when I looked after you at Hiroshima? Now feel this. Your big sister’s fingers owning you.” Yui’s thumb ground against Nanase’s clit viciously, creating arousal that made Nanase’s hips buck involuntarily.

“They were both quick learners,” Nanase said to me. “I enjoyed breaking the eldest after you donated her to the club.” I felt some guilt, but not much, as donating Yui to the Ultra-Nationalistic Japanese club as a gesture of goodwill also kept my latest Japanese woman, Chiyako, onside.

Yalina moved closer in the semi-darkness as Yu continued her work onstage, where she straddled Nanase’s face, lowering her dripping cunt onto her sister’s mouth. “Lick it, bitch. Taste how much more of a woman I am.” Nanase hesitated, tears streaming down her face, but Yui ground down, smothering her, her hips rocking to force compliance. Nanase’s tongue darted out, tentatively at first, then lapping at the swollen lips and engorged clit that Yui presented like a weapon. Yui moaned, triumphant, one hand twisting Nanase’s nipple while the other reached back to finger her sister’s hole again, syncing her assaults.

Beside me, Yalina, a petite, refined size 6 woman, focused her sharp-featured, elegant face with its high cheekbones, predatory, almond-shaped eyes, and lips curved in a knowing half-smile that promised both pleasure and pain for me. “From what I have heard of you, you would enjoy seeing me at work on the sisters, but for now, we will discuss other matters.”

She lowered her voice confidentially and poured out her thoughts. In short, they were that she was an outsider among this group of right-wing, Japanese ex-military police, that Akiyo, the sex craving Japanese woman, was bitter as Yalina outdid her sexually, while Misaki, the lesbian leader, was fearful that Yalina would replace her. Thus Yalina feared she would, as many did during WW2, when the Kempeitai were involved, disappear.

I had nodded, wondering where this was leading. She spelt it out as her hand found my cock under the table, telling me that she wanted to leave and knew I could give her protection and that I would see her break Chiyako and replace her and become my woman, starting now in a back room. It was a plan worthy of my brain, but I liked to be the one telling someone what I was going to do, not being given a gift horse without any strings attached.

She took my hand to her wet cunt, and that settled it. We stood to leave, and I took a look at the stage. There, Nanase’s body was a quivering, shattered mess of forced orgasms, defeat and submission. i paused as the crowd of ex-Kempeitai erupted as Yui hauled her defeated sister to centre stage. “You lost, little sister,” Yui hissed, pinning Nanase’s wrists above her head with one hand, her knee digging into the small of Nanase’s back to keep her arched and exposed. “Now they will use you,” she gloated, pointing at the men.

The first wave descended like starving animals on fresh meat, 25 of them in total, ready to relive their wartime atrocities. The leader, a scarred brute with a Kempeitai sergeant’s insignia still sewn onto his shirt, immediately grabbed Nanase’s hips and thrust into her slick, abused cunt, his cock splitting her wide. He pounded her raw, each slam jolting her body until he emptied inside her with a guttural roar.

No sooner had he pulled out, cum leaking down her legs, than the next three took his place. One forced his tool into her mouth, gagging her with it while the other claimed her arse, stretching the tight ring with brutal insistence. Yui adjusted her hold, allowing the third to finger her sister. I heard their grunts over the crowd’s cheers.

By the time we had exited, the gangbang had escalated into a frenzy, the ex-Kempeitai rotating in packs of three or four, leaving no hole left untouched. My last sight was a moustached corporal flipping her onto all fours, then mounting her from behind as two more forced their cocks into her mouth and hands, turning her into a human spitroast.

Yalina’s hand lingered on my cock as we slipped through a concealed door behind the stage, leading to a dimly lit back room that smelled of sandalwood and old silk. It was her private lair stocked with the restraints, oils, sex toys and acupuncture kits she used on her women. The door clicked shut, muffling the distant roars of the gangbang, and she turned to me with a predatory smile. “Here, Major Walters, I will show you what Shanghai’s taught me,” she purred. “My skills were honed in brothels where I was taught to turn men and women into sex addicts. Watch me strip, then enjoy me.”

She started slowly, unclasping the gold chain around her neck, letting the dudou slip down inch by inch to reveal her hard 32B breasts with their nipples already stiff. Her fingers traced the silk as it fell, exposing her flat belly and the black garter belt hugging her hips. She kicked off her high heels, then unhooked the garters, rolling down the sheer stockings to bare her smooth legs and present her prominent, shaved mound, already glistening with anticipation.

“In Shanghai, I learnt to tease until they begged,” she whispered, stepping close to press her body against mine, her hands deftly unbuttoning my shirt and pants, freeing my hardened cock with skilled movements.

She pushed me onto a low futon, straddling my waist and lowered her dripping cunt onto my shaft, taking me inch by torturous inch, her inner walls clenching in rhythmic pulses that milked me but made me want more “Feel that? Brothel girls called it my ‘silk chamber’. It means I control your release.” She rode me slowly at first, grinding her clit against my base, building pressure, then abruptly stopped, pulling off just as I neared the edge.

She grabbed her acupuncture kit, inserting four thin needles into my lower abdomen. It wasn’t painful, but it blocked my ability to cum. She resumed the ride, her hips working faster, and normally I would have cum, but now I was on the brink but unable to cum, and my balls ached from the denial.

But this was her show, and she rolled us so that I was on top and wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling my rod deep into her while her hands clawed my back, drawing thin lines of blood. Yalina produced a silk cord, looping it around my neck and tightening it just enough to make my vision blur as she bucked upward, her cunt squeezing my cock in waves that synced with the restricted air. Gasping, I thrust harder, but she controlled the noose, loosening only when I slowed, turning the fuck into a desperate, oxygen-starved frenzy. “Beg for air, Major. It’s what the warlords did in those sex and opium dens.”

Just when I thought I had experienced everything, she dismounted my quivering tool and pushed me back, and produced a vial of warming oil from her kit. It was a brothel secret recipe laced with chilli essence giving a burning sensation. She slathered it on my cock and her own ass, then impaled herself anally in reverse cowgirl, her tight ring stretching around me as the heat built to an inferno, making every thrust a mix of ecstasy and fire. “Extreme enough? Now watch this.” Yalina fisted her own cunt while riding my cock in her ass, her knuckles disappearing inside herself, juices squirting as she double-penetrated her body, moaning in ecstasy.

The needles still blocked my cum, so she rode through her own shuddering orgasms, finally removing them with a practiced flick of her fingers, allowing me to explode inside her arse in a mind-shattering release. She eased beside me, licking the mess from her fingers with a satisfied grin. “That’s just a taste of Shanghai’s gifts. Protect me, and I’ll break Chiyako with worse and make her our slut while I become your queen.”

Later, as she took me gently, she brought up another topic: Susanah McBride, who was freelancing at the club, as not even they could abduct the wife of “Fighting George” McBride, not knowing that I had enabled her divorce. I had kidnapped his Filipina mistress and given her to Susanah, who extracted a confession, which gave Susanah her freedom from her philandering husband. Of course it also gave me protection from my illegal blackmarket activities.

Susanah, as I expected, had proved to be a sex freak, and the club members were incensed at her easily humiliating the Japanese women sexually. Yalina was instructed to put her back in her place in an onstage sexfight. She said to me, “I have heard rumours you fucked her. Is that true?”

I said that I had, and she smiled. “It will give me another chance to prove how good I am by destroying her in front of her, which I will be doing in three nights’ time. I hope you will be there to support me, but to avoid suspicion of our connection, I suggest you bring Chiyako as your partner.”

I had a lot on my mind that night regarding whether Yalina was speaking the truth. My cock said yes, but my inherent caution and self-presentation said proceed with caution. I awoke to a warm, wet feeling on my cock and my eyes fluttering open to the sight of Susanah McBride’s lips wrapped around my hardening shaft. The 43-year-old was nude: her blonde hair cascaded over her slim shoulders, framing her full, pale tits with their stiff nipples.

She’d obviously slipped into my quarters unannounced, her grey eyes locked on mine with a hungry gleam, as she sucked enthusiastically, her tongue swirling around my cockhead eagerly, greedily drawing my baby maker deeper into her mouth. Saliva dripped down her chin as she bobbed, one hand cupping my balls while the other stroked the base, her slim frame arched on the futon to give me the full view of her shaved mound glistening below.

“Mmm, Major,” she drawled between slurps, her Southern accent thick with lust, “I’ve been craving this Aussie cock for too long. Let me drink you dry.” She hollowed her cheeks, sucking harder, her full tits brushing my thighs as she worked me like a woman possessed, moans vibrating through me until I gripped her hair and thrust, her enthusiasm pushing me right to the edge.

With Susanah this fired up, I wanted more and fought the urge to cum. I managed to stop her, pulling her head back gently but firmly, my cock popping free from her lips with a wet smack, strings of saliva connecting us. “Easy, we can go longer,” I moaned, reaching for my cock ring from the bedside drawer. I dipped the Edo period, Higo Zuiki Swallow Japanese Cockring in the bowl of water beside the bed and slid it on when it softened. According to the antique dealer, who had given it to me in exchange for being an approved seller to military officers, it was handcrafted from the stem of a giant elephant ear plant.