Michio's idea

The idea had been growing inside Michio for half a year. It had grown so that it came and took hold of Michio in every quiet moment.

Michio said to her husband Yukio-san, “you remember, my love, that you said your company bonus had been especially good this year, in reward for your special services to the firm, and that to celebrate this you would buy me a new fur coat?”

“Yes my pearl,” said Yukio, smiling. “I have not forgotten my promise.”

“Beloved husband, there is something I would wish for much more than a fur coat. It is not an expensive thing, Yukio-san, but a little thing that would give me great pleasure. You know that I have little to do in the daytime and in the many long evenings when you are away from me, and, I have not wanted to burden you with my complaints husband, but often I am bored by the same old parties with the same old faces.”

“Michio my love,” her husband replied, “I must say I had thought that recently you were becoming tired and feckless. My love, whatever I can bring you to help rekindle the light in your eyes, never mind the price, you can be sure that you will have it.”

“You are the very kindest and most loving husband, Yukio-san,” said Michio, planting a kiss on her husband's cheek.

“So what is this thing that will brighten up your lonely days?”

“You remember last spring, my love, when we visited your cousin Kusama Matsiko, how Matsiko's wife was so proud of her Korean maid, that lovely little thing that we called cherry pip? You remember how cherry pip danced for all of us in the evening under the falling blossom. She delighted the party with the most bashful air of innocence , yet she was so skilfully trained to give pleasure with her sharp little tongue and her exquisite cunt? Isn't it true that for weeks afterwards we praised Mrs. Kusama's great skill in training the Korean girl, and that you observed how lucky Matsiko-san was to have such a talented wife, and so inventive to devise this novel way to entertain her husband and his guests.”

“Yes, my love,” Yukio said, “indeed I remember it well.”

“Yukio-san, since that spring party a seed has been growing within me. I know now that this is something I must do. It is something that as well as bringing me great joy in the doing, will also be for your pleasure, and I hope will bring you great esteem in our circle, as the actions of Matsiko-san's wife brought esteem to her husband. I ask, beloved husband, that you buy me a little Korean or Vietnamese slave girl such as Mrs. Kusama had. Although what I am planning is, I dare say, something very inventive and new that will outshine our cousin's achievement. I am hoping that by the time of next spring's blossoms, I will have transformed our girl slave completely to become a human dog who will perform most obediently and charmingly for our guests. Though she will still, of course, have the appearance of a pretty girl, I will train out of her all human expressions and habits. She will have forgotten speech. She will walk on all fours, eat from a bowl, grunt and pant like a dog, and be for all the world my canine pet. I can picture it all, Yukio-san. Everyone will agree she will be the most captivating pet they have ever seen, and the sight of her will make your friends' sacred members stiffer than they have ever known. Can you not picture it, beloved husband, will it not be the most delightful sight to present to our guests at the time of the falling blossoms?”

“Yes, my love, I believe that you will make it so. Without doubt it is a most diverting notion, to turn a dog-eater girl into a dog herself. Do not their language and manners already make these uncivilised foreign turds already half-way animals? With your skillful touch, my love, I am sure that the transformation can be completed. Very well, I shall procure the youngest and prettiest such specimen there is to be had for you to work on. Though don't think I shan't also buy you the finest fur coat in Tokyo , for indeed your idea pleases me very much and shall be rewarded.”

Four days later, early evening, a black van passed through the ten foot electronic security gates that protected the Yojos' Kyoto villa and cruised up the fifty yards of tree-lined gravel drive, turned to round the building, and came to a stop at the villa's rear entrance. Two burly looking men got out of the front of the van, unlocked the rear doors and shouldered the wooden crate they slid out of the van. Sammy, the Yojos' chauffeur and majordomo, directed the delivery men through the sliding metal door into the main storeroom. Unlocking a second door, Sammy then pointed them down a flight of concrete stairs into the basement while he went to fetch the mistress.

The delivery men had laid the crate on a polished metal bench that ran along the side of the first basement storeroom, and were sipping from bottles of Kirin beer brought them by Mrs. Wabashi, the housekeeper. One had rolled up his sleeves, displaying the Tanaka clan tattoos that scrolled around the knots of his iron arms. Showing respect due to the wife of a senior business partner of the clan chiefs, the yakuza put down their beer bottles on the steel bench, straightened themselves, and bowed as Madame Yojo entered.

Sammy stood behind her, his arms folded in front of him around a crowbar. “Our respects to Yojo-sama ,” said Iron-arm, “and sincere wishes that the merchandise will satisfy. We hope you will accept the animal as a gift from us.”

Iron-Arm took the crowbar and prised away the lid of the crate. He reached inside and took out the girl, lifting her away from the box in the cradle of his arms, and set her down on the steel bench. She was curled up foetal , ball-gagged, and bound with whipcord around her wrists and ankles. Another long length of cord pulled the bindings on her hands and feet together and another then looped around knees, back and elbows bundling her up in a tight ball.

She was a tiny little thing. Michio stroked the wisps of hair that poked out of the tight cleft between the backs of her thighs, and squeezed her finger in between. Then she stroked the girl's hair, which had been shorn into a crude bob, and her face. She ran her long violet nail over the dry lips stretched over the ball gag, dug into the cheek, and played with the eyelashes that fluttered and batted like little wings over bright terrified eyes. When the girl tried to turn her head down and bury her chin in away from Michio's playful hand, Michio slapped her hard, and dug all her nails in hard around the windpipe. The little bitch whimpered and swallowed. Michio slapped her again, once on each cheek. Then she stroked her face softly, and rubbed under her chin, and then ran her hand down to where the girl's little bumps of tits were pressed up tight against her knees.

“Exquisite. So tiny. She is still virgin, I hope?”

“Yes certainly madam Yojo. We made a special effort to make sure it was the freshest and most pure available. This one is not from the city, but a village girl from the Korean jungle, never touched by a man, from an illiterate and stupid peasant family. Of course, virginity has been medically checked and is guaranteed, and it has also been checked free of all diseases and fully inoculated. My men have been expressly forbidden from playing with the merchandise, and from touching the breasts or cunt except for the medical examination.”

“Very good. I wouldn't expect anything less. Now please remove the bindings so I can examine her properly.”

Iron-arm produced a flick knife from the pocket of his cotton slacks, and cut the bindings, leaving only the gag and the red impressions of the tying still on her skin. The girl, however, stayed hugging herself tight in her ball. Iron arm slapped twice, fast, on her face and then on the back of her thighs, and shouted in Korean for her to stand up. The girl shuddered and bit into the ball gag as she was hit, her legs shivering, but she didn't move. Michio and the three men saw a trickle of pee running down her thigh and beginning to form a yellow pool on the shining bench.

“I am very sorry madam Yojo. The animal is completely untrained, of course, and in a state of shock. Even so, I apologise for this inexcusable behaviour.”

Iron arm picked up the girl, this time with his arms stretched out away from him to avoid the pee that was dripping from between her legs. He held her up in the air away from the bench for a second or two, then dropped her on the floor. The girl crumpled but only curled herself in a ball on the floor. Iron arm aimed two sharp kicks at the girl's legs and shouted at her again in Korean. Still getting no result, he grabbed her hair in his left hand and pulled her up to her feet. The shaking girl stood about four and a half feet, her head against Iron Arm's chest. With his right hand he slapped her again on both cheeks and spat some more words into her ear. Slowly, the girl started to straighten up and support her own weight.

“Pretty pretty,” said Michio, who stepped forward to stroke the girl's throat, nipples and belly with her nail. And then Michio reached with her hands to cradle the girl's head and tousle her hair. Michio removed the ball gag. The girl's mouth stayed half open, spittle smeared on the lips, and a raw sobbing sound coming from deep in her throat. Michio pressed her index finger in between the girl's lips, and touched to the inside of her mouth with her long nail. The girl swallowed and closed her lips on the finger, but did not bite.

Sammy let out a breath and said “You are very brave, madam, to put your finger in the animal's mouth. Please madam, we do not know if it will turn wild and bite you. These animals have no sense, they act out of instinct and fear only.”

Michio giggled, and continued to play with her finger in the girl's mouth. “You worry too much, Sammy. I think the bitch is not so wild. I think she will soon be a very obedient good little doggie, I think that already she knows I am her mistress and that she must not bite me. Now Sammy, you must take her to the sink and wash her down so I can put my fingers in her little pissy cunt and see whether that wants to bite me.”

There was a big sink in the corner of the storeroom, at the end of the steel bench. Sammy took the girl's wrist and led her to the sink. Iron Arm came after Sammy and helped him lift the girl up into the sink. Sammy used washing up liquid and cold water on the girl's cunt and thighs, and Iron Arm held her shoulders still as she shivered. After they had washed the piss away, they placed her back on the floor and wiped her dry with tea towels, then led her back to Michio.

Michio examined the girl for a further five minutes, having Sammy turn her round as she ran her hands over front and back, pulled and scratched her skin, pinched her nipples, fingered her cunt and anus. The girl stood shaking but in position throughout the examination. The low sobbing noise was constant in her throat, breaking into a low moan when Michio's fingers pulled and teased, and a squeal as her holes were penetrated.

“Pretty pretty,” said Michio, “very nice.” And she thanked Iron Arm again, bowed and shook hands with him and the second yakuza, and promised them that her husband would remember the good work they had done. Sammy called Mrs. Wabashi to show the two men out. Then, the mistress following behind, he unlocked the door that led along a short corridor, and a second door that was the third to come off the corridor on the right. Inside was a small bare concrete box room, less than ten feet square, lit by a single strip-light. The only furnishing of the room was an iron ring secured to the floor towards the far left corner, and extending from this a length of chain less than a foot long, attached to the end of which was a steel collar. Slapping the girl on the arse, Sammy gestured for her to kneel on the floor. When she had done so, he pulled her down by the hair towards the collar, which he fastened round her neck. The collar locked with a click, pinning the girl close to the ground by her throat.

Shortly after being locked down, the girl started to struggle against the chain and to moan and sob out loud. She moved herself into a crouch by the iron ring and pulled at the chain with her hands.

“No, bitch,” said Michio, who had been watching silently, “no hands. No hands.” To make herself understood Michio bent down by the girl, grabbed her hands and pulled the girl's arms back behind her, twisting her wrists painfully. The girl screamed and started to jabber in Korean. On Michio's instructions, Sammy fetched a length of cord and tied the girl's hands behind her back. Then she told him to take off his belt. Michio positioned the girl with her arse in the air towards her, her head down by the ring in the corner. As Michio beat her with the belt the girl continued to scream and beg in Korean. After the beating, the girl curled up on the floor and sobbed.

“Fetch her a bowl of water, Sammy,” said Michio. “We'll leave her for the night. Training starts tomorrow.”