Nibiiro no Hana: Chapter 25

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When Dan had asked for someone to cover his secretary’s duties, he must have already known it would be his former contract lover who showed up—because even when Sagawa arrived at his upscale condo, Dan’s expression didn’t change.

“I’ll be filling in as your secretary for the next two days,” Sagawa said. “I’m still inexperienced, so I may not be much help, but I look forward to working with you.”

Dan gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

There was no obvious sign of displeasure or anger on his face, and that alone gave Sagawa a small sense of relief. They got into a taxi—Sagawa in the front seat, Dan in the back.

The driver, who had been talkative until they picked up Dan, went quiet the moment the foreigner entered the car. He only confirmed the destination and then fell silent. With no music or radio playing, the hum of the engine was the only sound in the cramped space.

There were three people now, but the real problem would come when it was just the two of them. Dan might take advantage of being his superior to issue unreasonable demands or throw verbal abuse at him. The thought made the hours ahead feel heavy with dread. He even found himself wishing for some freak accident—a traffic crash where only Dan got mildly injured, just enough to cancel the whole trip.

They arrived at the airport about forty minutes later. Even in the lounge while sipping coffee, during check-in for business class, and while boarding the plane, Dan acknowledged Sagawa’s presence—but never spoke to him.

He was fluent in Japanese anyway, and could read most business-level writing just fine. There hadn’t been any need for a stand-in secretary so far.

Still wanting to do something that resembled actual secretarial work, Sagawa finally said, “Would you like to review today’s schedule?”

Dan replied flatly, “Has it changed?”

“Oh, no…”

“I know it all already. No need.”

That ended the conversation. Bluntly and completely. Feeling foolish, Sagawa gave up trying to help.

At Shin-Chitose Airport, they were met by the president of the client company himself. It was quite the reception. Their first stop was an Italian restaurant for an early lunch. Normally, a secretary would wait elsewhere, but because some nuances might get lost if Dan missed a word or an idiom, Sagawa was asked to sit in.

The food was excellent, but everyone else at the table was a president or executive. He felt completely out of place. Not once did a difficult or ambiguous Japanese term come up that would’ve required his help.

That afternoon, they toured the client’s factory and listened to the local staff. During the lunch with top execs, Dan had seemed pleasant but distant—like he was keeping a formal line between them. But at the factory, he became animated, asking question after question. The factory’s point of contact was a cheerful man in his early thirties with strong communication skills.

Dan’s type, Sagawa thought. The man’s enthusiasm was suspiciously intense—flirting, almost. By the time they left, Sagawa was convinced. Dan even handed him a business card.

The tour ended by evening, and they were taken to what looked like a long-standing, traditional restaurant. Sagawa was instructed to join the meal again, and finally did something useful—when Dan didn’t know how to read the kanji for "鰊" on the menu, Sagawa told him it was nishin.

After dinner, the client invited Dan to go to a hostess club. Sagawa wondered if Dan would go out of politeness despite being gay—but Dan declined clearly. “I’d prefer to rest in my room.”

At 10 p.m., they arrived at the hotel the other secretary had booked in advance. After check-in, Sagawa carried Dan’s luggage to his room. It was only a small suitcase—nothing Dan couldn’t carry himself—but Sagawa couldn’t bring himself to say, “Could you take it yourself?”

The room Dan had been assigned was an executive suite. It was a tier below the luxury hotels he usually used in Tokyo, but it was compact, well-organized, and appeared comfortable. Naturally, Sagawa, as the secretary, was staying in a lower-ranked room on a different floor.

He had thought that once he set Dan’s suitcase in the luggage area, his job would be done. But Dan began taking off his suit jacket. Silently, he handed it over, and Sagawa accepted it and hung it on a hanger. Dan then loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, settling into a more relaxed state.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he sank into the wide sofa. Watching from the side while smoothing out the tie before hanging it, Sagawa had a strong urge to excuse himself. The atmosphere between them had shifted again now that they were alone in the evening. Dan still rarely looked at him, but the sense of pressure in the air had increased.

“I’ll be here to pick you up at eleven tomorrow morning. Is there anything else you need?”

Dan looked at him.

“What about breakfast?”

Sagawa hurriedly checked the schedule. There was no mention of breakfast. A cold sweat ran down his back.

“Just a moment.”

He called the front desk and was told that coffee and sandwiches would be delivered to Dan’s room at 9 a.m. He relayed that information, and Dan gave a small nod. Now that he thought about it, Dan always had bread and coffee for breakfast. Even on business trips, he seemed to stick to the same routine. The regular secretary probably considered breakfast so obvious it didn’t need to be written down. It had still made Sagawa panic.

“Anything else?” he asked, hoping that was the end of it.

Dan leaned against the sofa armrest and, in a relaxed tone, said, “A man who can have sex.”

“Um… that’s… I…”

His tongue twisted, and he couldn’t get the words out properly.

“Even in a provincial city like this, there must be men you can buy,” Dan said.

To demand that his former lover procure a sexual partner for him—it was outrageous. Was this some kind of punishment? A way to mess with him?

“Well… I… I’m not sure…”

Sagawa stumbled over his words, and Dan narrowed his brow, clearly unimpressed.

“Can’t do it?” he said flatly. “The usual secretary would’ve arranged it by now.”

Sagawa felt a flash of heat rise to his head. Assigning secretaries to handle private, sexual matters was completely out of line. This man had no sense of boundaries. He had to push back—at least a little.

“I… apologize, but I don’t know your preferences.”

“As long as they can be penetrated, I don’t care about appearance. Get one here within an hour.”

With that, Dan stood up and disappeared into the bathroom.

Sagawa’s mind spiraled. Why the hell do I have to do this? There had been nothing about finding a male escort in the schedule the secretary had left. But then again, no one would ever write something like that in a business itinerary.

What if he couldn’t deliver? Would Dan think he was incompetent? That even the stand-in secretary couldn’t manage something like this?

He pulled out his phone. He knew how to handle female escorts, but he’d never once searched for male sex workers. He had no idea what keywords to use. For now, he typed in the city name, “gay,” and “escort.” A few results came up, but far fewer than for female services. There weren’t many options.

He picked the one with the most listed workers and clicked on a few profiles. Each one detailed what services were available—and to his surprise, many of them said “no anal.”

He called the shop. A male staff member answered. Sagawa asked if there was anyone currently available for anal service.

Unfortunately, they were all booked.

Even the place with the most male escorts had no one who could do what was needed.

This is bad, he thought.

The staff member on the phone had said calmly, “Normally we can be more flexible, but it's the day before a holiday.” He added that, if it was absolutely necessary, one man would be available from 2 a.m. Sagawa ended the call for now.

Dan emerged from the bathroom in a bathrobe. Though a familiar sight, it struck Sagawa with an odd vividness tonight, making him quickly avert his gaze. Pretending to check his phone, he lowered his head and reported, “There’s someone available starting at 2 a.m., but...”

It was 10:30 p.m. Dan responded, as expected, with a curt, “Not acceptable.”

“They said everyone’s booked because it’s the night before a holiday…” Sagawa relayed the staff’s exact phrasing.

“So you’re telling me,” Dan said coldly, “you can’t provide what I want, when I want it.”

There was no rebutting that.

“Which means you’re incompetent—not just in your regular work, but even as a secretary. Never mind. Leave.”

Dan drank straight from the beer bottle, and with a dismissive flick of his right hand, waved him off like shooing a stray dog or cat. The rude treatment made Sagawa burn with rage. Calling for a gay escort in the middle of a provincial city at a moment’s notice was outrageous to begin with, and now he was being blamed for not making it happen at Dan’s ideal time? It was completely unfair. This wasn’t even a professional matter—it was about Dan’s private urges. It was the worst.

And to make things worse, Dan had bundled his usual work performance into it too, calling him “incompetent” in the same breath. When he was Dan’s contractual lover, Dan had never asked him about work even once. But maybe Dan had always known—had known that Sagawa’s reputation at headquarters wasn’t particularly good. And now, in this moment, in this situation, Dan had chosen to throw it in his face. It made his blood boil.

After the anger came a wave of emptiness. It was Dan’s fault that he couldn’t have sex with women anymore—Dan had messed with his ass so excessively, so obsessively, that his body wouldn’t respond the same way. This wasn’t some trivial matter—it had long-term consequences. Sagawa had been diligently going to sex workers and clinics, trying to rehabilitate himself little by little. And yet the man who had caused it all was still out there, freely enjoying sex however he pleased. Screw that.

This is all your fault. My life fell apart because of you, he thought.

He wanted to do something Dan would hate. He wanted to see him frustrated. He wanted to mock him, laugh in his face. Dan wasn’t looking at him anymore. And yet, Sagawa knew—knew—that Dan was still aware of him. He could feel that there was still something like emotion, some lingering attachment left. Otherwise, Dan wouldn’t have specifically demanded a Japanese-speaking substitute secretary—someone who, by sheer coincidence, just happened to be the only Japanese staff member stationed at headquarters. That wasn't necessary. It wasn’t logical. And Dan wouldn’t have gone out of his way to ask for it, unless some part of him was still hung up.

The whole thing—the demand to call in a male escort—was Dan’s showy way of saying he didn’t care anymore. A move meant to hurt. A message he wanted Sagawa to hear loud and clear. But Sagawa knew better.

Slowly, Sagawa approached the man who had broken him.

Dan, still in his bathrobe, was lounging on the sofa. As Sagawa approached, Dan placed the beer bottle on the table.

“If looks don’t matter, then would I be acceptable?” Sagawa asked with a practiced, professional smile—the kind he’d use in sales.

Dan’s eyes widened, clearly shocked. His usual aloof composure vanished, replaced by an expression that could only be described as disbelief. They had been close once—Sagawa could read that reaction perfectly.

“Of course, since it’s outside working hours, I’ll be charging extra.”

Dan didn’t answer. Just sat there in silence. And Sagawa observed him closely.

You said anyone would do, as long as they can be penetrated. So why can’t you answer right away? Because it was him, wasn’t it?

Even though Dan had always known their relationship was transactional, he’d also liked Sagawa. And then Sagawa had thrown “marriage” and “a woman” in his face—powerful words Dan could never hope to compete with—and ended it. Dan had probably given up. But now he had a chance to sleep with him again.

What made it different now was that Dan would be accepting the role of second-best—someone buying a body that once was his. A demotion. And whether or not Dan could accept being that—that was the real question.

And the longer Dan hesitated, the more conflicted he looked—the more satisfaction it gave Sagawa. That hesitation revealed how deeply Dan was still attached. It sent a thrill down his spine.

“…How much?”

That dimly lit pleasure spread through every inch of Sagawa’s body. I knew it. This guy is still hung up on me.

Even though he’d known Sagawa now belonged to someone else, Dan had still clung with pathetic longing, resorted to passive-aggressive jabs, called him incompetent. And yet now, the moment Sagawa offered his body again, Dan caved—instantly. Even if he hadn’t, just that hesitation was enough. That alone means I win.

Overcome with amusement, Sagawa laughed. “Haha.”

“Don’t take it seriously. I was joking, obviously. Didn’t I tell you already? I’m never sleeping with you again.”

Dan’s face, frozen in stunned silence, was delicious. Serves you right, Sagawa gloated inwardly.

“I’m just an incompetent secretary, remember? Sorry, but I’m afraid tonight it’s just going to be you and your right hand.”

The verbal slap landed with a satisfying sting. Dan didn’t respond with anger—his face turned to quiet despair. That look thrilled Sagawa more than anything.

“Well then, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

But the moment he turned away, his shirt collar tightened viciously around his neck. He was yanked backward with violent force, pressure closing in on his throat. He couldn’t breathe. A panicked thought—I’m going to die—flashed through his mind as he clawed at the fabric, trying to slip his fingers between collar and skin.

Then, in a single movement, he was thrown.

He landed hard, face-down on the floor. His glasses went flying. The instant the choking grip released, he gasped—a desperate, wheezing inhale that whistled painfully in his throat. Air. Just breathe. That was all that mattered now. The sharp ache in his ribs and knees didn’t even register.

Still facedown, Sagawa gasped for breath, trying desperately to steady his breathing. That was when his right arm was wrenched back behind him. “Ah—wait…” he started to say, confused, only for his left arm to be pulled along and forced into place. His wrists were tied together behind his back—maybe with some kind of cord or belt. He couldn’t move a muscle.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a rasp—probably from the lingering effects of being choked. Then a body pressed down against his back, heavy and radiating heat. Through the fabric of his slacks, a hand gripped his crotch with crushing force.

“—ngh!”

His groin tightened instinctively. He’d been touched there before—but not like this. Not with this kind of aggression. A flash of memory came back to him—Dan, smashing the desk, knocking over the monitor, when they’d broken things off in the president’s office. He was angry. Furious. And now, with that same rage, he was clamping down on him like he might actually crush him.

He could destroy me here and now.

“Stop it! Let me go!”

The man on his back said nothing. Sagawa couldn’t even see his face. All he could feel was the hot, beast-like breath and the oppressive weight pinning him down.

Then he heard the sound of a belt being yanked free. His slacks and underwear were yanked down in one motion. His bare skin met the air, exposed. Vulnerable. He didn’t need to be told what was coming.

Rough fingers gripped his trembling buttocks, spreading them apart with no restraint.

Wait—no, stop—just stop!

The words echoed in his head. This isn’t sex. I didn’t agree to this.

He hadn’t agreed to this. When he’d asked, “would I be acceptable?”—he’d been joking. It was a taunt, a jab, not a proposition.

So how the hell did it come to this?

He knew the answer: he had provoked Dan. And now, he was being overpowered. Pinned down. Forced.

This wasn’t mutual. This wasn’t consensual. This was rape. This was a crime.

Then, without warning, something hard and slender forced its way into him with a slick, intrusive plup.

“—Hh! No…!” Sagawa screamed.

It had been so long. His body reacted like a machine abruptly powered back on after being left idle for years—every nerve down there responded with raw sensitivity, sending sparks directly to his groin. His hips twitched involuntarily.

Shit, shit, shit—this is the kind that feels too damn good—

But…

“No—not my ass!” he yelled, his voice cracking from panic and desperation.

If he let himself feel good here again, everything—everything he’d done to rehabilitate himself would be for nothing. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want to use this place anymore.

But the finger that had forced its way in moved roughly, as if to say, Hurry up and get used to it already, forcibly stretching him from the inside.

“Please. Please don’t put your penis in. I’m begging you…”

He begged desperately, but the hot length pressed against his entrance—and then without hesitation it slammed into him with a violent, gut-wrenching thrust.

“Hiiiiiih!”

Sagawa’s back arched sharply. It was so big—so hot—it made him nauseous. The entrance had been stretched wide, stinging and raw, but the inside... the inside gave rise to a rush of goosebumps, it felt that good. The sensation of being filled, of that massive thing pushing in and pressing against him from the inside—it was unbearable and addictive.

As Dan began to thrust, the movement dragged waves of pleasure along Sagawa’s nerves, stirring him up from the inside. Sweet, broken moans spilled from his mouth—“Ah... hiiiih... hianhh...”—so humiliatingly soft and sweet, he could hardly believe they were his own. He couldn’t cover his mouth. Couldn’t stop the gasps. Couldn’t stop the way his voice betrayed how it felt.

That stubborn, uncooperative thing between his legs—his problem child, the one that hadn’t been responding for so long—was now painfully, undeniably hard. The heat building from deep inside, the syrupy stimulation licking up his spine, had brought it to life. It throbbed—tense and taut, hard as if it belonged to someone else entirely.

This isn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to feel good when inside a woman. That’s how it was supposed to work. But his body wouldn’t listen.

“You say you don’t want it, and yet look at this.”

That pulsing cock, swollen and leaking, was grabbed hard in a wide palm—like a hostage caught mid-escape, it twitched violently in response.

“With a body like this, you’d probably get off even with a stick shoved up your ass. You damn slut.”

Dan’s pace grew more frenzied, jerking Sagawa’s hips as he rocked into him without pause. Just as Sagawa thought he’s going to finish inside, there was a wet schlp, and that thick length withdrew.

He’s raping me. He’s violating me.

And yet—Sagawa was hard. And he wanted to come. He was shaking with pleasure, unsure what to do with this body of his that felt so good even in a situation like this. He wanted to climax. He didn’t know what to do with the confusion of feeling such intense pleasure while being assaulted.

As he lay face-down, Dan grabbed his waist again. Like a piece of luggage, he was hoisted up and thrown onto the bed. Now on his back, Dan climbed over him again, forcing his legs wide open. His aroused penis rubbed against Dan’s stomach—it felt good. But this wasn’t okay.

“I don’t want this—no, please—!”

Dan thrust in again from the front, full force. The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed—smack, smack. Buttons flew off his dress shirt from the force as it was pulled open, and Dan roughly pinched and twisted his nipples.

“Ow—it hurts! I said it hurts!”

It was like Dan was taking out some grudge, violently toying with his chest. All the while, he pounded into him from below and bit into his shoulders, arms, and neck like an enraged dog.

“I’m serious—it hurts!”

Dan wouldn’t stop biting—like a poorly trained dog. Pain and pleasure merged in chaotic confusion. As Sagawa was thrust into, his right arm—still being bitten—throbbed in pain, and even while thinking it hurts, he came.

Why does it feel good?

This is rape. He’s biting me. Why do I like this?

Why does it throb inside like it’s still craving more?

Is there something wrong with my brain?

Apparently bored with missionary position, Dan shifted him onto his side. He lifted Sagawa’s upper leg and entered him in a sideways position. It was Sagawa’s first time being taken that way. The angle was slightly off from the sweet spot—close, but just enough to make him squirm.

His hips moved instinctively, trying to adjust the angle to hit the right place.

Somewhere along the way, the cord binding his wrists had loosened and come undone. His hands were free. He should have tried to run, should have resisted—but instead, he pulled a pillow close to his face and hid behind it, a meaningless gesture.

Dan’s penis felt too good. That scared him more than anything.

Tears welled up.

No. I hate this. I’m scared. I’m scared. I’m scared.

“S-stop… please…”

The first tear that slipped down his cheek opened the floodgates. More came, one after another.

“I’m begging you... please stop. If you keep doing this, my body will be ruined...”

“What’s ruined? Don’t lie to me.”

Dan thrust into him again, still gripping his painfully erect penis.

“...Because... I can’t even function properly anymore...”

Dan withdrew with a slick slide. The hollow ache of emptiness lasted only a moment before Sagawa was flipped onto his stomach. Dan’s weight settled heavily over him. Without pause, he was pushed back inside—like sealing a container with a cork, Dan buried himself deep.

“…Can’t get it up for a woman anymore?”

The whisper near his ear carried a mocking laugh, almost gleeful.

When he didn’t answer, Dan bit down on his shoulder again. The pain made Sagawa cry—and he nodded.

“You’re too sensitive. Once your body learns that kind of stimulation, it doesn’t forget it… It’s like a drug.”

Dan rammed into him again and again. The bed creaked loudly with each thrust. There was something disturbingly comforting about it.

It felt so good—nothing but good. He couldn’t say anything anymore. Just moaned like a machine, reduced to breathy “haah”, “aahn”, lewd sounds.

Then fingers entered his mouth. They tasted salty. And just because they were there—just because they’d entered—he swirled his tongue around them and licked.

He heard muffled laughter from behind. But by then, none of it mattered anymore.

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