Chapter 21: Healing Touch

MIOKO

Three weeks had passed since my anal defloration, and life in New York was starting to feel almost normal.

I’d learned to navigate the subway system without getting lost. I could order coffee in English without stumbling over my words. I’d even made a friend – a Japanese exchange student I’d met at a bookstore in the East Village.

Daniel-san went to work each morning, and I spent my days exploring the city, taking English classes online, and slowly adjusting to American life.

Kioko managed the household beautifully – cooking, cleaning, shopping, making our apartment feel like a home. She was efficient, thorough, and seemed content in her role.

At least, that’s what I thought.

It was a Thursday afternoon. Daniel-san was still at work, and I’d just gotten home from my English class. I found Kioko in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner.

“Tadaima,” I called out. I’m home.

“Okaeri,” she replied automatically. Welcome back.

But her voice sounded off. Strained.

I walked into the kitchen and really looked at her.

Her eyes were red. Her hands were shaking slightly as she worked the knife.

“Kioko? Are you okay?”

“Hai, I’m fine.” But her voice cracked on the last word.

I gently took the knife from her hand and set it down. “You’re not fine. Talk to me.”

She tried to hold it together, but the moment I touched her arm, she broke.

Great, heaving sobs wracked her body, and I pulled her into my arms, holding her as she cried.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

It took several minutes before she could speak.

“I’m so lonely, Mioko,” she finally choked out. “I’m so desperately lonely.”

I led her to the couch and sat beside her, still holding her hand.

“Tell me.”

She took a shaky breath. “I know I should be grateful. I have a beautiful room, a kind master, meaningful work. I’m so much better off than I was with my father. But I...”

She faltered, and I squeezed her hand encouragingly.

“At Master Tanaka’s house, I wasn’t alone. There were other staff. Other people. And sometimes, when the nightmares got really bad, when I couldn’t stop remembering what my father did to me, Master Tanaka would let me come to his room.”

My eyes widened. “He ... he used you sexually?”

“No!” She said quickly. “No, never. He would just ... hold me. Let me sleep in his bed with him and Madoka-sama. Just human contact. Just knowing I wasn’t alone. It helped so much.”

Understanding dawned. “And here, you’re alone in your room every night.”

“Hai. And I know that’s how it should be. I’m household staff. I shouldn’t need more. But the nightmares have been getting worse, and I wake up in the dark in a strange country, and I’m so scared and alone and—”

She broke down crying again.

My heart ached for her. Kioko had been through so much – years of abuse, then the trauma of being sold to a new master, now transplanted to a foreign country.

Of course she was struggling.

“Kioko, listen to me. You’re not just household staff. You’re my friend. You’re family. And I’m going to talk to Daniel-san tonight. We’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden. You’re a person who needs comfort and human connection. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She looked at me with desperate, hopeful eyes. “Do you really think Master Daniel would...?”

“I think he’s a good man who cares about the people in his household. Let me talk to him.”

DANIEL

I came home that evening to find Mioko waiting for me by the door, her expression serious.

“We need to talk,” she said quietly.

“Alright. Let me change and we’ll talk.”

After I’d changed out of my work clothes, Mioko and I sat together on the couch. I could see Kioko in the kitchen, deliberately staying out of earshot while preparing dinner.

“What’s going on, Princess?”

“It’s about Kioko. She had a breakdown today.”

Concern immediately flooded me. “Is she okay? What happened?”

Mioko explained everything – Kioko’s loneliness, her nightmares, how Tanaka had sometimes let her sleep in his room just for the comfort of not being alone.

“She’s struggling, Master. Really struggling. And I think ... I think we need to help her.”

“What are you suggesting?”

She took a deep breath. “I think we should invite her to sleep in our bed sometimes. Not every night – I know I’m your primary submissive and our time together is important. But maybe twice a week? Just so she knows she’s not alone?”

I considered this carefully.

Bringing Kioko into our bed, even for non-sexual comfort, would change the dynamic of our household. It would blur lines.

But it would also be an act of compassion for a woman who’d suffered greatly and needed healing.

“You’re sure about this? You’re not just saying what you think I want to hear?”

“I’m sure. She’s my friend, and she’s hurting. I can share you for a few hours a week if it helps her heal.”

I pulled Mioko into my arms. “You have such a generous heart, Princess. That’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

Her eyes went wide. “You ... you love me?”

I realized I’d never actually said it out loud. “Yes, Mioko. I love you. Completely.”

Tears streamed down her face. “I love you too, Master. So much.”

We held each other for a long moment, and then I called out, “Kioko, can you come here please?”

She appeared from the kitchen, her eyes still red, looking nervous.

“Sit,” I said gently, gesturing to the chair across from us.

She sat, her hands folded in her lap, her posture submissive.

“Mioko told me what you shared with her today. About your struggles.”

Kioko’s face went pale. “Master, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to complain. I’m grateful for everything you’ve—”

“Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.”

She fell silent, looking confused.

“Kioko, trauma doesn’t just disappear because you have a nice room and a kind master. Healing takes time. And part of healing is having your needs met.”

“I ... I don’t understand, Master.”

“Mioko and I have discussed it, and we’d like to invite you to join us in bed twice a week. Tuesday and Thursday nights. Just to sleep, just for comfort. Would that help?”

Her eyes went impossibly wide. “You ... you would do that for me?”

“You’re part of this household, Kioko. That means we take care of you. All of you, including your emotional needs.”

She started crying again, but this time it was relief. “Thank you, Master. Thank you so much. I promise I won’t be a burden, I’ll stay on my side, I won’t—”

“Kioko.” I stopped her gently. “There are no ‘sides’ in this. If you need to be held, we’ll hold you. If you need to cry, we’ll comfort you. That’s what this is about. Understood?”

“Hai, Master.” She was sobbing openly now. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Mioko went over and hugged her friend, and I watched the two women hold each other, both crying.

I’d just agreed to bring another woman into my bed.

This was going to be ... interesting.

KIOKO

That Tuesday night, I stood outside the master bedroom door, wearing my simple cotton nightgown, trembling with nervousness.

I knew Master Daniel and Mioko had said this was just for comfort, but I still felt like I was intruding on something sacred.