Nibiiro no Hana: Chapter 2

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At 8 p.m., Tsurutani arrived at the designated ryōtei. He had been told the three others would begin without him and that he should arrive later.

The place was surrounded by a traditional wooden fence. In front of a wooden gate stood a simple sign with the name “Kaina.” If he hadn’t been told, he wouldn’t have realized it was a ryōtei at all. A middle-aged woman in a green kimono stepped out and led him inside. The moment he stepped through the gate, he entered a world of high-class hospitality. Black stone paving was bordered by carefully laid gravel. To the right stretched a narrow garden with a small stream running alongside it. Stone lanterns were arranged at even intervals, casting a soft glow that created an otherworldly atmosphere.

Voices were distant, and the sound of a shishi-odoshi echoed clearly. Tsurutani nearly forgot he was in one of Tokyo’s prime districts. It was the kind of place he would never visit on his own in his lifetime. Entranced by the beauty, he became acutely aware of the sound of his own footsteps on the stone. The lightness of that sound made him feel strangely out of place—as though it were quietly telling him he didn’t belong there. It frightened him a little.

The building appeared old, with low ceilings. The hallway creaked softly beneath his steps. The room where the president was entertaining the guests was tucked away deep inside the ryōtei.

“Your guest has arrived,” the attendant announced.

From inside, the president’s voice responded, “Please come in.”

The sliding door slid open to reveal a ten-tatami room (about 16.5 square meters), where the president sat across from two foreign men at a low, rectangular table. Fighting off the trembling caused by his anxiety, Tsurutani stiffened his expression so it wouldn’t show.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Tsurutani,”

The blond foreigner offered a warm smile. Tsurutani bowed deeply.

“Thank you very much for inviting me.”

The sliding door slid shut behind him. The sound of it was like a birdcage closing. Tsurutani steeled himself.

At the table lined with a variety of dishes, the blond and light-brown-haired foreigners sat side by side, with the president across from them. Tsurutani assumed he would sit next to the president, but instead, the two foreigners had left a conspicuously large gap between them. Clearly, he was expected to sit there. A cushion had even been laid out. Resigned, he knelt down between them. Wedged between two larger Western men, he felt visually dwarfed and overwhelmed. The scent of cologne mingled with a distinctly masculine odor… likely their natural body scent.

“Manager Tsurutani, the man seated on your left is Mr. Dan Carter, Head of the Asia Division in the Overseas Business Department of Eric & Ronald Corp.”

“N-nice to meet you,” Tsurutani said.

Eric & Ronald Corp. was a major American company known for its large market share in soft drinks. Dan, with light brown hair and green eyes, offered his hand without saying a word. Tsurutani hesitantly shook it. Unlike the friendly blond man, Dan gave off a cold, detached impression—perhaps due to his narrow face and sharply slanted eyes.

“Mr. Tsurutani, I’m Huey Adams. I handle marketing at our New York headquarters,” came a bright voice from the opposite side.

Huey, with golden hair, blue eyes, and a lively expression, smiled at him—a perfect picture of the cheerful American stereotype.

“Here, have a drink,” Huey said, handing him a glass a little forcefully and pouring him some beer.

There was still plenty of food on the table, and it didn’t seem like things were heading straight to sex. Tsurutani, tense and frozen, stared fixedly at the glass in his hands. That’s when he noticed the president watching him with a puzzled look. Why…?

Then it hit him—and his fingers began to tremble. He was the one who should be doing the entertaining, but at this rate, they were the ones playing host to him.

“M-my apologies. I should have poured for you first…”

Flustered, he moved instinctively, forgetting entirely that he had already been served. As he moved his hand—

“OH!”

Beer splashed from the glass he’d swung around, landing directly on Huey’s slacks with a splat.

“A-ah—I'm so sorry! I’m really, really sorry!”

He never imagined he’d make such a mess before even taking off his clothes. His face turned pale. Grabbing the nearest towel, he reached down and wiped at Huey’s knee.

“I—I don’t even know how to apologize…”

Unable to look at Huey—or at the president, who had likely witnessed everything—Tsurutani bowed his head deeply.

“‘Apology’ means to say sorry, yes? No need,” Huey replied smoothly.

When Tsurutani looked up, Huey was smiling gently, his gaze kind.

“I know what you’re thinking. You just wanted an excuse to undress me, didn’t you? I appreciate the enthusiasm, but this time, please allow us to take the lead.”

Then, holding the beer bottle, Huey deliberately poured its contents directly over Tsurutani’s lap. The golden liquid foamed and spread across his thighs, soaking his clothes and pooling beneath him on the cushion—like he had wet himself. Tsurutani could only stare, dumbfounded.

“Oh no, what a terrible mess I’ve made,” Huey said in flat, textbook Japanese, showing no signs of panic.

He calmly pulled a pure white handkerchief from his pocket and gently pressed it to Tsurutani’s groin. The sudden pressure triggered a reflex; Tsurutani’s throat tightened, and he instinctively pressed his knees together to trap the invading hand.

“Please spread your legs, Mr. Tsurutani. I can’t clean properly otherwise.”

As as he spoke, Huey’s hand moved between his legs.

…It felt disgusting.

“N-no, please. I’ll do it myself—”

“But I want to,” Huey said, coaxing him with the bright blue eyes of someone who looked like a harmless boy, even though he had to be in his late thirties.

“Still, this is too…”

“Don’t take this pleasure from me.”

At those words, Tsurutani suddenly remembered why he was here. He had been called to this room to entertain these two gay men with his body. The arrangment had already begun the moment he stepped inside.

Shoving his shame aside, Tsurutani slowly opened his knees. As if waiting for that moment, Huey’s fingers began to move. Pressing the handkerchief into the damp fabric, he rubbed it over Tsurutani’s penis and scrotum again and again, deliberately kneading them through the cloth.

“It soaked through quite a bit, so I need to be thorough.”

Though the hand moving across his groin filled him with revulsion, it also sparked a strange sensation that was hard to define. Tsurutani’s shoulders began to shake unnaturally, and his breathing quickened. His late wife had been a modest woman—so shy that she’d been too embarrassed to kiss him first, let alone touch a man’s genitals. Tsurutani himself had never been one for strong desire and had never sought out aggressive sexual experiences. He had no experience with sex work or brothels. So even though this was still over fabric, it was the first time someone else had handled his genitals.

“Your breathing’s fast. And I only wiped you—yet you’re already reacting.”

“Ah… um…”

Suddenly, Huey grabbed him hard, and Tsurutani yelped.

“Don’t overdo it,” Dan said sternly. “He’s never been with a man before.”

Clicking his tongue, Huey pulled his hand away. Tsurutani pressed his palm to his chest and let out a breath of relief. He was grateful to Dan for stepping in. If he’d been younger, that stimulation alone might have made him erect. But now, while there was some swelling, there was no visible change. If they’d made him get hard in such a brightly lit room—especially in front of the president—it would have been mortifying.

“Tsurutani-san.”

He turned at the sound of Dan’s voice.

“Take off your slacks.”

The tone, firm and commanding—especially from someone who had previously seemed like an ally—caught Tsurutani off guard.

“Huh?”

“They’re wet, aren’t they? There’s no point in keeping them on.”

“But… that would leave me in just my underwear.”

Even though it was a private room, being the only one to remove his pants was embarrassing. And it wasn’t impossible that an attendant might walk in. The entrance was just a sliding door—there was no lock.

“Manager Tsurutani, perhaps you should follow Mr. Carter’s suggestion and remove your slacks,” the president offered, almost gently.

Even with the president encouraging him, Tsurutani was thrown into confusion. He understood now that their idea of entertainment involved his body—but perhaps his humiliation was part of the appeal.

“You should definitely do it, Tsurutani-san. That must feel awful,” Huey added, egging him on.

Tsurutani kept his gaze down, hoping to deflect the moment—but with pressure coming from all sides, he couldn’t endure it. He stood up.

“Ah—then… if you’ll excuse me…”

He walked to the corner of the room and placed his hands on the waistband of his slacks. With nowhere else to put them, he folded them and left them there. Now wearing only his shirt, suit jacket, briefs, and socks, he returned to sit between the two Westerners—his lower half incongruously bare.

The moment he sat down, he felt it—thick, sticky gazes wrapping around his thighs and groin from both sides.

Huey’s left hand brushed his thigh. Tsurutani heard him swallow. The man’s warm, slightly damp hand moved over his skin like a snake. Every pass sent a strange chill rippling up his spine—a blend of stimulation and disgust.

“Such smooth, clingy skin,” Huey murmured. “I thought the same thing when we shook hands. What a lovely palm he has.”

Then, from the other side, another hand touched his opposite thigh—Dan’s fingers.

“Huey wouldn’t stop raving about how amazing you were, so I got curious… and I have to admit, this really is exceptional. I’ve been with Japanese men before, but I’ve never felt anything quite like this.”

Tsurutani was being touched on both thighs by different fingers, moving in different rhythms. The unstable stimulation confused him, and he nearly burst into tears.

“Foreigners often say Japanese skin is especially beautiful. Among them, there are rare individuals whose skin is admired even by fellow Japanese. He may be one of those rare cases.”

The president said this dispassionately, while Tsurutani sat there on display, mortified.

“Japanese people really are a miraculous race,” Dan muttered.

“To think you’ve come to this miraculous country,” the president replied, smoothly redirecting the conversation. “Now, regarding the matter of our technical partnership…”

The president switched to English midway. Dan and Huey responded in kind. Though both were fluent in Japanese, they likely preferred their native tongue when it came to detailed negotiations.

Tsurutani had studied English through college but had never become fluent. If they spoke slowly, he could sometimes catch words and guess the meaning. But at a native speaker’s speed, he couldn’t keep up at all.

As the three continued talking, Tsurutani sat there, utterly excluded. That awkwardness was compounded by the shame of being the only one in the room without his pants on.

As English buzzed in his ears, Dan’s fingers began moving again—still resting on Tsurutani’s left knee. He didn’t look at him, just continued to stroke absentmindedly. Then, as if instructing him to spread his legs, he nudged Tsurutani’s left knee outward. Huey, noticing the movement, pulled his right knee outward as well. With pressure from both sides, Tsurutani had no choice but to open his legs wide while still sitting on his knees.

Dan’s fingers pressed into the soft skin near his inner thighs. Huey traced the waistband of his briefs repeatedly. Tsurutani felt on edge, wondering when the hands would slip inside. Even knowing he couldn’t resist, the anticipation terrified him.

Worse than the physical contact was the dissonance—neither man was looking at him. They continued their business discussion with the president, as if nothing inappropriate was happening. He couldn’t understand how they could act so composed while doing such obscene things.

Their hands grew bolder. Now they were tracing the shape of his genitals through the fabric.

“Ah—”

A sound escaped Tsurutani when his penis was pinched. But no one paid him any attention—the conversation continued uninterrupted. Soon, Dan’s hand slipped inside his briefs and began touching him directly. Thick fingers rubbed the base of his penis, varying the pressure.

Not to be outdone, Huey slipped his hand in as well. Inside one pair of briefs, the two men’s hands jostled like they were fighting—one taking the head, the other the base. Tsurutani’s scrotum peeked out from both leg holes, being pulled from either side. Seeing that, he nearly burst into tears from the sheer humiliation, but he swallowed it down.

If he cried, he might ruin their mood. This was his role—to be toyed with, to satisfy their sexual curiosity.

After thoroughly "playing" inside his briefs, the two finally withdrew their hands, as if bored. When Tsurutani lifted his head again, the room had fallen silent. The English conversation had stopped—it seemed the business talk was over.

“You must’ve been bored while we talked. Sorry about that,” Huey said with a too-perfect smile.

“I doubt he was bored. Between the two of us, we kept him more than entertained,” Dan said flatly, his expression sullen, almost angry.

“Please, don’t worry about me. Feel free to continue your discussion,” Tsurutani said, doing his best to sound polite.

But Dan, still visibly irritated, casually shoved his right hand back into Tsurutani’s briefs and pulled out his limp penis through the front opening, as if it were no more than a bodily function.

“Stand up. Just like that.”

Looking him straight in the eye, Dan issued the command coldly. But if he stood, his ridiculous appearance would be fully exposed to the president. Hesitating, he remained still—until a shout cut the air:

“I said stand up!”

Dan’s irritability exploded in a loud voice, and Tsurutani flinched. He had always struggled with people who had volatile tempers. Even when they weren’t his superiors, shouting made him shrink.

He stood, hands trembling, covering himself as best he could.

“Remove your hands from your groin.”

He couldn’t bear the idea of being seen, so he lifted only one hand, leaving the other in place. Apparently frustrated with his hesitation, Dan slapped away Tsurutani’s left hand, fully exposing him.

Now with no choice, Tsurutani stood with his flaccid penis—awkwardly pulled through the slit of his briefs—exposed in front of the president.

The president, for his part, stared directly at it.

It was the greatest humiliation of Tsurutani’s life. His entire body felt like it was burning.

“You’re shy, aren’t you, Mr. Tsurutani? Your face is completely red. You remind me of a girl who confessed to me back in junior high—she turned bright red, just like you. It was adorable.”

Huey peered up at him from below, speaking with amusement.

“Though now, he’s less cute and more… comical,” the president added dryly.

Both men burst out laughing. A sharp, bitter emotion surged in Tsurutani’s chest, but he bore it in silence. This is work, he told himself.

“You’re a disgrace,” Dan said sharply, his voice cutting through the air.

“You took off your pants in front of everyone and now stand here in just your briefs. You’re even proudly displaying yourself through the slit. Do you want us to see it? To touch it? You’re a hopeless pervert.”

It had been Dan’s own command that made him undress, that made him stand like this. And yet he spoke as if it were all Tsurutani’s doing. The injustice made Tsurutani clench his hands.

“I only did what you—”

“How old are you?” Dan cut him off.

Tsurutani answered truthfully, because he had no choice.

“You’re a shameful middle-aged man,” Dan said coldly.

“Your hair’s already turning white. You’re old enough to have grandchildren. And still, you act like this? You whore. Exposing yourself like that—do you not even understand the meaning of shame?”

Tsurutani trembled, pale with suppressed fury. Don’t yell. Don’t get angry. If I upset them, the deal might fall through…

“Dan, I don’t think Mr. Tsurutani is that kind of person,” Huey said, shrugging lightly.

“Look at this—still completely limp. He’s not even reacting.”

Huey grasped Tsurutani’s flaccid penis and swung it from side to side like a metronome.

“It’s a nice color. Small, but nicely shaped. I was curious how it would look when hard, but it seems he’s not the type to get aroused from being watched or teased.”

As he spoke, Huey hooked his fingers under the waistband of Tsurutani’s briefs and pulled them all the way down to his ankles.

Boiling with rage toward Dan, Tsurutani didn’t even try to cover himself. He let them see everything.

“Your hair is turning gray with that mix of white and black… but your pubic hair is still completely black,” Huey remarked.

As he toyed with the hair under the harsh fluorescent lights, he leaned in close to Tsurutani’s groin and audibly sniffed.

Tsurutani flinched unconsciously, his hips pulling back on their own.

“Japanese people really don’t have much body odor. I can’t tell what you smell like at all.”

Still undressed from the waist down, Tsurutani was made to sit again. His removed briefs were placed to Huey’s right, out of reach. Even if he wanted to ask for them back, it was clear he wouldn’t be allowed to wear them.

Avoiding eye contact with Dan to his left, Tsurutani reflected: Entertaining gay men like this wasn’t just about offering one’s body—it involved being humiliated, degraded. Maybe even psychologically toyed with.

If that was part of it, he regretted agreeing. At his age, being broken down like this was too much. Even if it’s all in play… people can still be hurt.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Huey suddenly said, snapping his fingers.

“I heard there’s an interesting game in Japan—something where they put food on a person. Is that really a thing?”

“You’re referring to nyotaimori, I believe,” the president answered. “It’s the practice of arranging dishes on a nude woman’s body for guests to enjoy while admiring the view. Not common, but there are enthusiasts.”

“Can’t we have Mr. Tsurutani do that?”

Huey’s suggestion made Tsurutani freeze. Predictably, the president gave a strained smile.

“That would be difficult to arrange at this point, I’m afraid. If I’d known in advance, perhaps we could have prepared accordingly.”

Tsurutani couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If Huey had asked ahead of time, would the president really have made him do it?

That kind of arrangement wouldn’t just expose him here—it would mean revealing himself to the chef as well. This wasn’t a joke.

“Well, we may not be able to present it beautifully,” the president added, “but if we placed a plate on Manager Tsurutani and served food there, it might replicate the atmosphere.”

“How exactly would that work?” Dan asked.

The president stood up and approached.

“Manager Tsurutani, would you please lie down?”

Following the command, Tsurutani lay on his back atop the tatami. Compared to being prepared by an actual chef, this imitation seemed the lesser evil. The president removed Tsurutani’s tie, then unbuttoned and took off his shirt.

Tsurutani had heard of nyotaimori before, but never seen it. Still, he could easily imagine how it was done.

Huey let out a sharp whistle.

“Tsurutani-san’s nipples are a lovely shade of pink.”

“Manager Tsurutani’s fair skin really makes the pink stand out,” the president added.

“There’s hair on his nipples,” Dan said, peering down at his chest with a frown.

“Unlike women, Japanese men don’t usually trim that area,” the president explained matter-of-factly.

Dan reached for Tsurutani’s nipple and plucked out a hair with a snap.

“Ow—”

When Tsurutani glared at him, Dan replied coolly, “That hair was unpleasant.”

Tsurutani looked up at the president, silently asking for help, but was met only with a look telling him not to resist. He bit down on his lip and bore the sharp sting. Dan, with a self-satisfied smirk, proceeded to pluck the remaining hairs from both sides of Tsurutani’s chest.

“Dan, you’ve been teasing him so much his nipples have turned red,” Huey observed.

He pinched one of the now-flushed areolas with his fingertips. Perhaps sensitized from the hair removal, even that made Tsurutani’s back tingle. Seeing Dan enjoying his reaction was humiliating.

The president took some remaining fruit from a nearby dish—sliced pineapple, melon, strawberries, peaches—and began placing them across Tsurutani’s chest and stomach.

“This is how the food is arranged—then it’s picked up with chopsticks and eaten.”

Before he finished explaining, Huey was already reaching with his chopsticks to grab a pineapple slice. But the utensils provided at this ryōtei were lacquered and round, not disposable, making them harder to handle. The slice slipped through the tips and fell with a soft plop onto Tsurutani’s belly.

Huey grinned and leaned in to eat it directly. Then, as if it were nothing, he let his tongue slide along the side of Tsurutani’s navel.

“Eek—”

When Tsurutani twisted his body, the fruit arranged on top of him shifted slightly.

“You're not very good with chopsticks,” Dan muttered.

He tried to pick up the peach resting near Tsurutani’s solar plexus. But, just like Huey, he let it drop near his chest.

“Ah…”

Tsurutani let out a small gasp. The chopsticks weren’t gripping the fruit—they were gripping his pale pink nipple. Made sensitive from earlier plucking, the bud had hardened and was now being pinched, shaken, and teased by the lacquered sticks.

Huey laughed.

“Dan, I think the thing you’re trying so hard to pick up might not be food.”

“On the contrary,” said the president, “Mr. Carter seems to understand the deeper enjoyment of this activity quite well. That’s how this game is truly meant to be played.”

The president made no move to stop Dan.

Tsurutani looked away, unable to bear watching his own chest being toyed with.

After tormenting the nipple with chopsticks, Dan—like Huey before him—leaned in to bite into the peach. While doing so, he pressed his lips around the nipple, trapping it softly.

The warmth and wetness of the contact made Tsurutani flinch. Even knowing it was a man sucking his chest, his lower body tingled. A teasing tongue flicked across the sensitive spot, followed by a steady pull that sent a dull ache pooling in his lower abdomen. Then—sharp pain. He had been bitten.

But the pain quickly faded, replaced by another round of licking. Dan’s eyes, watching Tsurutani’s reactions from the corners of his gaze, narrowed with satisfaction.

“It’s not fair for you to have all the fun,” Huey said, a little petulantly.

At his complaint, Dan released the nipple. The one he had sucked and bitten now glistened with saliva, its tip noticeably more swollen than the other.

Perhaps emboldened by Dan, Huey reached for a strawberry resting on Tsurutani’s stomach. Feigning clumsiness, he guided the fruit lower—until he lifted Tsurutani’s flaccid penis with his chopsticks.

“Here’s a nice-looking sausage,” Huey said playfully.

Tsurutani flushed deeply, his expression on the verge of tears. The president stifled a laugh, while Dan shrugged and sighed, shaking his head.

“Looks pretty shriveled to me,” Dan said dryly.

Huey, unfazed, smiled with confidence.

“I’ll make sure it grows into a proper sausage.”

With that, Huey brought Tsurutani’s penis—still held in the chopsticks—to his mouth and took it in.

“H-hiiii!”

Tsurutani cried out and twisted his body. The fruit arranged on his chest and stomach fell to the tatami. Until now, he had never had anyone take his penis into their mouth. The warmth and wetness of a person’s mouth were unfamiliar and overwhelming. When the tongue flicked against the slit, a heavy, numbing jolt shot through his hips.

He could tell—he knew—his body was becoming aroused, hardening, responding…

“Ah… um… ahhh…”

Huey’s lips squeezed around the base, and Tsurutani let out a helpless cry. Even knowing someone was there, between his legs, he couldn’t stop his body from writhing.

“Tsurutani-san, I know it feels good, but could you stay still? You’re making it hard to enjoy.”

But his body wouldn’t listen. His knees trembled. Tsurutani was scared—deeply, confusingly scared. Why was this sensation so intense? It reminded him of the shameful, guilty pleasure he’d felt the first time he ever touched himself. He panted softly, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“Manager Tsurutani, is something wrong?”

The president finally spoke up, noticing the change.

“I’m terribly sorry. I… I’m just not used to this…”

“Not used to it?”

“This is… the first time anyone’s done something like this to me…”

His penis was no longer being licked, and yet the heat in his lower body refused to fade.

“I mean… no one has ever, um… used their mouth down there before.”

The president looked down at Tsurutani with a vaguely sympathetic expression.

“Mr. Adams, if you wouldn’t mind, perhaps ease up a little. It seems Manager Tsurutani has no experience with fellatio.”

Huey’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.” He spread his arms in disbelief.

“But he was married! You’re telling me he’s never had that done to him?”

“Every couple is different. In Japan, many married pairs prefer more restrained forms of intimacy. Perhaps Manager Tsurutani was like that.”

At this, Huey threw up both arms with theatrical flair.

“What a tragedy. To have lived this long and never known what a blowjob is—what unspeakable misfortune. Today, I’ll take my time teaching him what true sensuality—what real sex—is all about.”

Huey let out a sharp whistle.

Rather than making Huey ease up, the president’s well-meaning interjection only encouraged more shameless behavior.

Now that Tsurutani’s penis had tasted the pleasure of being licked, it had grown greedy. Just being taken into a mouth made it twitch shamelessly. No matter how much he squirmed, Huey only continued, wrapping his arms tightly around Tsurutani’s waist so he could keep going uninterrupted.

As Huey gently nibbled the shaft and kneaded his testicles, Tsurutani twisted side to side, unable to do anything about the waves of pleasure rising uncontrollably from below.

“He didn’t get erect from mere touching, but with oral stimulation… look at him now.”

Slick with Huey’s saliva, his now fully erect penis stood exposed in front of both Dan and the company president. Ever since his wife passed, Tsurutani had only relieved himself with his right hand. It was something he did out of restlessness, obligation even—never for real pleasure. He had never felt anything this intense on his own. And he hadn’t even climaxed yet. He was still being drawn out, endlessly teased, with no release in sight.

“The color was pale, delicate—very Japanese in its sensitivity—but now that it’s erect, it’s turned a deep pink. Like a seductive geisha.”

Dan murmured this, then flicked the taut tip with his finger. A faint shudder ran through Tsurutani’s hips, and a moan slipped from his mouth: “Ahn…”

“He’s sensitive to oral stimulation,” Dan analyzed coolly. “Not just the penis—he reacted the same when his nipples were sucked.”

“It’s good to be obedient to pleasure. It means you can let go… And if this really is his first blowjob, then I’m guessing he’s never had this part touched either.”

Huey’s pale fingers gripped Tsurutani’s penis firmly and pressed a thumb against the slit.

“Ah—!”

He drew slow circles around the tip. A wet, sticky sound followed.

As the tip was stroked in slow, circular motions, a wet, sticky sound filled the room.

“Ah… ah…”

“This place, leaking slippery semen like this—has it ever been touched with love?”

Tsurutani shook his head as if in refusal, hiding his face with both hands. But Dan grabbed those hands and pulled them upward.

“Answer honestly,” he whispered at Tsurutani’s ear.

“N… no.”

The reply came faint and weak.

Huey reached across the low table and picked something up—chopsticks. Lacquered, slender, and black, they gleamed dully under the fluorescent light.

“This will probably feel good too. I’ll take you to heaven.”

Even with the chopsticks in Huey’s hand, Tsurutani couldn’t quite understand what was about to happen to him. Not until the rounded tip was brought near the slit of his penis.

“What… what are you doing?!”

“I’m going to pull your inner desires out from deep inside.”

Huey licked his upper lip.

When the tip of the chopstick touched the slit, Tsurutani’s body jerked, and he writhed violently.

“No—no! I’m scared—President, please, make him stop! I don’t want this—!”

Dan, who had been holding down his wrists, shouted into his ear.

“Don’t move. If you thrash around like a child, you’ll get hurt.”

Terrified, Tsurutani shivered.

“S-something that big can’t possibly go in there!”

“I won’t push it in far. Just rubbing the entrance.”

“But—I don’t want this…!”

“Baby.”

The same man who had just yelled at him now whispered sweetly against his ear. Tsurutani’s tear-soaked eyes opened wide in shock.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just relax. Be a good boy—stay still.”

Dan kissed his cheeks softly, chuu, chuu—just like a lover might. While Tsurutani reeled from the gentleness, he felt something thin and wet slipping into the tip of his penis.

It didn’t hurt—but the discomfort was overwhelming. It felt awful.

The sensation of something thin, parting the narrow membranes and creeping deeper with a squish, was unlike anything Tsurutani had ever experienced.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it? Your semen was about to spill out from there.”

Huey murmured with total confidence, then began to slowly move the inserted chopstick.

The sensation of rubbing inside made Tsurutani’s head spin.

Something foreign was writhing around inside his body—and though it was utterly unpleasant, the pleasure that overpowered it was even stronger.

It hit him like a tidal wave, and he couldn’t resist.

“Ah, ah—hiiiii… ah, ah…”

His vision flickered.

“Hiiih—ahh, aah, ah, ah… nooo… ah…”

Tsurutani thrashed violently, twisting his upper body. As he sobbed and writhed, Dan slowly licked the tear-streaked side of his face.

“Help me—ah, no… not that—stop—!”

“Just from rubbing you inside a little, you’re already like this. I’ve done this kind of play many times, but you’re the first one I’ve seen react so much. You’re adorable.”

Huey, delighted, pushed the chopsticks in even deeper.

“Hi—hi… hiiiii… ahh… ahh…”

“How does it feel?”

Dan’s whisper came at his ear.

“It feels so good to have the inside of your penis rubbed, doesn’t it?”

Tsurutani shook his head.

“Don’t lie. Tell the truth and I’ll go easy on you.”

Not even knowing what easy meant, Tsurutani nodded.

“Say it out loud. Say it feels good to have the inside of your penis rubbed.”

His mind was a fog. He couldn’t think. He gave up trying.

“I-it feels good. It feels good. Having my penis rubbed… feels good…”

Dan gave a sharp grin and hissed into his ear, “Pervert.”

“This is what someone like you is called in Japan, right? A pervert who gets off on having the tip of his penis played with.”

Tsurutani hiccupped through a sob.

“At your age, getting that painfully hard—aren’t you embarrassed? You’re lying about never being with a man, aren’t you? You’ve done this before, haven’t you—letting people toy with the head of your cock like that.”

“N-no! That’s not true. I’ve only ever been with women… only my wife…”

“No one reacts like that the first time. You really are a depraved little slut.”

“No, that’s not—haaah, nooo—ahhh… ahh…”

The pace of the rubbing grew faster. Overwhelmed by pleasure that felt like it would stop his heart, Tsurutani screamed in raw ecstasy as he climaxed.

Just before he ejaculated, Huey pulled the chopsticks out and flicked his penis from side to side. Tsurutani’s release sprayed not only over his stomach, but all around him.

The two men leaned down and licked the semen from Tsurutani’s chest and stomach like dogs.

Breathing heavily, shoulders heaving, Tsurutani stared dazedly at the surreal scene, his head still fogged with lingering pleasure.

“How was the taste?”

The president’s voice rang out—cool, indifferent.

“Far better than I imagined. I didn’t expect such a responsive offering.”

Dan gently stroked Tsurutani’s head.

“Then perhaps it’s time we let you enjoy the rest of him, slowly and thoroughly.”

Standing, the president stepped to the right side of the low table behind the two men and smoothly slid open the sliding door screen.

“Magnificent!”

Huey exclaimed.

Drawn by his voice, Tsurutani sat up.

…Beyond the sliding screen lay a single futon laid out in an outdated, almost surreal shade of vivid red. In the right corner, a traditional Japanese lantern cast a dim, vulgar glow in the room.

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