After dinner, I dragged John to a couple of guitar shops while I told him what had happened. "Geez, Miwa, I'm glad you're so easygoing about that stuff or that likely would have been the end of the negotiations right there if someone was embarrassed." "Yeah. You definitely brought the right girl along for the job, John. But it's going to cost you that Killer guitar on the wall there," I said. John was surprised when he looked at the receipt and it was $6,000 U.S. Then I bought a six string with my own money, a made in Japan Fender Strat. Millions were at stake, so the price tag I just hung on John was so small that even the phrase "chump change" didn't describe it. Plus he got to fuck me.

The negotiations reopened the following morning. Again, it was a snooze fest for me. I wore a pink Japanese office lady outfit (white blouse and heels, pink vest and pink knee length skirt) with white thigh stockings. When the negotiations were adjourned for lunch, we took the Japanese side to a Chinese-Japanese fusion cuisine restaurant. It was killer.

We picked up where we left off during the afternoon until 6 p.m. Then the Japanese side took us to another Japanese restaurant with a private room. I sat on a bench against the back wall with the table in front of me. Nothing was going to be seen by anyone unless they were on either side of me or looking underneath from the other side of that particular table. The food was pretty good, but not nearly as good as the one we took them to during lunch. I guess cost cutting has hit Japan, too. I was wondering if Hasatomine-san and Yoshiwana-san had told their colleagues about what they were doing with me the previous day.

My guess is that they did. The 70 something CEO, Katono-san, sat opposite John and to my left. On my right was the 60 something CFO, Okui-san. Once the food was served and everyone began to get distracted by their individual conversations, Okui-san started asking me personal questions such as if I liked being tied up and spanked, if I swallowed or spit or if I liked older men. The answer to those questions are yes, yes, yes, no and yes. He then asked me my favorite sex position. I told him doggy style because I knew that answer would get him off more. He wanted to know if I liked giving blowjobs. I said I did, but only to my husband. God, what a farce that answer was and I couldn't but help to giggle when I uttered it. Then he jumped to whether I liked anal. I said no. I felt Okui-san's hand on my calf, which he then trailed up to just above my knee. I slapped it away. I was wondering if I should do this. But it was probably better form to put up a little bit of a fight, even with the biggest of the bigwigs there. Then I felt Okui-san's hand slowly pulling my skirt up. I think he was trying to see what color and style panties I was wearing. Again, I fended his hand off. Then he just quickly slipped his hand on to the naked skin between the top of my right stocking and my pussy. "Okui-fukushacho, dame yo (Mr. vp Okui, don't do that!)!" I mewled. Okui was not attractive to me, being a little troll like.

I put my hand on his and tried to move it, but it wouldn't budge. He was also squeezing my thigh, too. "Ii ko nara onsha wo yoku ni mieru zo (if you're a good girl we'll have a more positive opinion of your company)," he claimed. "Hontou ni (really)?" "Hontttouuuu da yo!" he promised. "H-h-h-hai," I fake stuttered. "Ah, ii ko da na (ah, you're a good girl, aren't you)" he said rhetorically and his hand crawled into my panties and then I felt a couple of fingers being jammed into me. He pulled them out and licked them off in front of me. "Oishii ko ja nee ka (well, aren't you a tasty little thing)," he critiqued before he re-invaded my snatch. "Chotto matte," he suddently blurted. He quickly whipped my skirt toward me and looked at my bare snatch before he whipped it back on to my knee. "Underhair nashi da yo ne (you don't have any pubic hair, do you)." "H-hai," I confessed, trying to act all nervous when I was actually just bored with this geezer groping me and wished he would get it over with.

I felt his hand on the waistband of my panties and I lifted my butt a little so that he could slide them down to my knees. He pulled my skirt back again. "Kirei (beautiful)!" "Arigatou," I said meekly. He shoved his fingers into me again and licked them off for another taste of me. "Ne, okusan, kore wo taisetsu ni sureba ii koto ni narun da yo (hey misses, if you treat my cock---he pointed to it when he said the word for 'this'---well it will be good for your company)" he insisted. "H-h-h-hai (O-o-o-okay) I fake stammered. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. God, it was tiny. Even when I got it hard, it was three inches max. It is easily the smallest I have ever seen in the flesh. I put it between my thumb and index finger and started stroking it. I tried not to laugh while I was doing it---and it almost seemed like a mercy handy. When he was ready to cum, I pointed it so that it would all shoot on to his gray dress pants and that is what happened. I got a little on my fingers, but a tissue quickly removed that. He then excused himself to go use the head, having to walk through the entire restaurant with cum stains on his pants. Fucking priceless!

The CEO, I guess maybe he was intimidated by John being half a foot taller and about 60 pounds heavier, never made one move on me. Well, at least that night.

I told John what happened after we got back to the hotel and we laughed our asses off. Now we have an inside joke, calling a small dick an "okui." By the way, the word for "big" in Japanese is "Ookii," so "okui" for a small penis is a pun on that.

Wednesday, there were no meetings, which made for a nice break from the grueling negotiations of the past two days. I acted as tour guide to John and the others for the local sites. Then I hit a guitar shop in a back alley in Akihabara and found a used Tokai Les Paul copy. Score! Those are good axes!

I suggested we go to a kaitenzushi for dinner just to make things easier on the trip's budget. At a kaitenzushi, plates of sushi revolve on a conveyor belt around the counter and what you pay is dependent on how many of what color plates you consume. Yeah, it lacks atmosphere, but it's still good food. When we got  back  to our hotel room, John was too stressed out for sex, so I blew him instead because, well, I like to suck cock and I thought it might relax him. He held my naked self tightly as he fell asleep, which felt nice.

Thursday's negotiations seemed to go well and the mood of the Japanese execs appeared to be quite a bit looser than it was initially. I have no idea why. We thought we were making pretty good progress. At lunch and dinner nobody tried to grope me. Now mind you they were all staring at me a lot, but not even so much as a lewd comment.

Friday morning, I found out why. the CEO of the Japanese firm, Katono-san, or, more formally, Katono-shacho, hadn't tried anything with me when just about everyone in his negotiating party had. He showed up with his personal interpreter and left me with the others outside the door of the conference room, making it just John, Katono-san and his interpreter inside. According to John, this is what was said:  "Mr. Cravelle, we are pleased at how quickly we have been able to move toward a contract. I think your wife has been a great help in explaining the way we do business here and has shown herself to be an impressive team player as well as a beautiful, classy woman. So I have a proposal for you and we can end the negotiations now and conclude a contract or we will have to keep them going on with more intervention by lawyers and such and take up much more time than necessary.."

"When we get into bed with another firm, I REALLY like to get into bed with them. As a symbol of a developing close relationship between our two firms, I want to sleep with your wife." "Well president Katono, that is quite an offer. I will consult with our team and see where we will go with this. My expectation, though, is that the contract will be finalized today."

I saw John exit the room and then call me over to a corner of the hallway. I can't say I was THAT surprised by Katono'san's wanting to sleep with me. What did get me, though, is that the deal was being effectively predicated on my sexual availability, especially since my supposed marriage to John was a whole heapin' helpin' o' shorseshit. I agreed to the proposal and the deal was signed. Katono-san called up a limo and he, John and I traveled to Katono'san's house in Hiroo, Tokyo, where he had an immaculate spread with a big Japanese garden that was surrounded by what seemed like a fortress like fence. I wondered if maybe it was a restored residence of some former feudal lord or other dignitary.

Katono-san's footman let us out of the car and Katono-san ushered us into his home. His wife Sayuri, a small prim woman who, when you looked into her eyes, embodied the famous observation made about Japanese woman by one prominent now late Japan hand, and this is a paraphrase,: "outside, she is all artfully presented sweetness and light and inside is a heart as strong as steel."  Japanese like to take their time getting to the heart of the matter, so we sat around the short table of a typical traditional Japanese livingroom just socializing a bit. Eventually, Katono-san steered the conversation to sex, asking me when I lost my virginity, how many children I wanted, all that shit. Then we got on to BDSM: "so have you guys ever played with rope?" he asked. I jumped in. "I messed around with it in college and John ties me up every now and then just to add a little spice to things," I advocated. "So are you a masochist?" he queried. "Not a masochist, but a submissive and I like being spanked and rough sex," I disclosed. "Yeah, she likes me to call her names when we're doing it," John added. I was obviously trying to walk a fine line between looking like the slut I really am and a respectable wife of a corporate magnate. "Yeah, (nodding toward his wife) this one likes that, too. She's also a hardcore masochist," he let us know.

This was making me a little uneasy. In Japanese BDSM, there are no explicit limits like we have here in the west. Everything is left up to the dominant to decide how far he wants to take things, though there is usually a tacit understanding as to the extent he or she would be allowed to progress. I just wondered how far Katono-san was going to try to push things with me. "I'm really happy that you're going to let me have your wife Mr. Crevelle. I've always wanted to have the young idol singer Suki Hakamada and your wife is the spitting image of her," he explained. "Osukkurisan desu neeee (she looks exactly like her, doesn't she?)," Sayuri echoed. I waved that suggestion off as the etiquette called for, but when Katono-san said he thought it was true I thanked him for the flattering comparison.

"Sate, ikimashou ka (well, shall we get started)?" Mr. Katono announced. "Hai," I assented. "Oh, by the way Mr. Cravelle, while I play with your wife you can have fun with my little bitch, too" Katono-san averred, using the word "mesuinu"---bitch---toward his wife as a form of humiliation. I wasn't sure if John was into women in their 60's, but I figured at the very least he would probably get a bj out of it.

Katono-san took me upstairs and pushed the fusuma of one room apart and bid me entrance. I stepped in and it was basically a dungeon, hooks and eyebolts screwed into the exposed ceiling joists, a bondage rack, stocks like they used in the Puritan days of early America, a table with all kinds of gear on it such as whips, rope, clamps, etc. It wasn't that much different from what Kevin had in his house, except that the floor was tatami and there were no eyebolts screwed into the floor. Katono-san told me to strip and walked around me to inspect me. He groped my ass and breasts a little bit. "Okay, go take a bath and come back here when you're done," he commanded. He didn't think I was dirty. He was doing this because the Japanese associate cleanliness with purity and by having me clean myself it was like displaying respect to the rope gods and the shibari art form as well as to show me that he was very particular about how he did things so that I wouldn't be uneasy about him being some jackoff cowboy who just wanted to beat bitches up like what you see in some BDSM chat rooms and forums in the U.S.

Out of respect for Katono-san and not wanting to defile his ropes and whatever other devices he was going to use on me, I showered and scrubbed myself to within an inch of my life and then got into the hot bath that had been left for me by Sayuri and soaked for about 15 minutes. I got out and dried myself off. Then I took several deep breaths and tried to let my body be limp so that what pain I might experience I might be able to better cope with.

I padded back to Katono-san's playroom naked. I stood at attention and he circled me and grabbed my hair, pulling it into a pony tail and then downward all at once. This was hot and I immediately began to moisten between my legs and my heart was drag racing all over my chest. "You're such a lovely girl Miwa-chan," he remarked. Arigatou Katono-shacho," I countered. Then he told me to call him "goshujinsama---Master." "Hai, wakarimashita goshujinsama (Yes, I understand Master)," I firmly said. "Maa, ii ka (this means literally, "is this good?," but the connotation is, "time to get started").

He told me to stand under the bondage rack, whereupon he tied my arms and legs so that I was in a spread position. He walked around behind me. "You have a really cute little ass, Miwa-chan. Let's see if we can ad some more color to it," he prefaced before striking my right butt cheek with a flogger. I let out a "yip" and then he did it again, followed by five quick strikes in succession. My heart was REALLY beating rapidly now and I could feel myself beginning to board the next rocket for sub space. He put a ball gag in my mouth and a vibrating egg into my pussy. I felt the toy begin to vibrate at about 75% strength. Then he made about 15 more passes at both ass cheeks and it was beginning to feel sore, but also hot and that turned me on. Then I felt the lash of a single tail whip, which carried a much sharper sting with it. The vibrator was cuasing some very nice sensations in my clit and inside me and I was beginning to moan. He stood in front of me and roughly grabbed my vulva, detecting my wetness. "Wow, you're such a dirty girl," he leered. "You like what I'm doing to you, don't you?" I nodded my head up and down. "Yappari (that's what I thought)1" he blurted.

My clit was stiffer than a pencil and feeling hot as the resonance in my pubic area shook it. My vaginal walls were tucked around the intrusive device and it was hard keeping it inside me since I was so oiled up there. He took out a length of rope and compacted my breasts in a harness. Then he untied my wrists from the top of the rack and bound them behind my back. My ass was throbbing like the beat of a drum and that would be joined by the pain in my nipples after he attached some very tight clamps to them that compressed them severely. He then started pulling and pinching my aching milk duds, causing me to emit "eek!" sounds. He bent me over and lashed the backhand tie to the top of the rack, causing gravity to exert pressure on my bound and pinched breasts, which only exacerbated the pulsing I felt in the nipples. He then took another whip out and snapped it all over my ass and thighs, the pain being searing. That is when my starship departed for sub space and I started to cum in grunting exclamations of ecstasy. "Oh, you came did you?' he archly noticed, unloading more strikes of the whip on my ass and thighs. Then he grabbed a small wire whip and slapped my breasts with it, which hurt tremendously, but the endorphins inside me were not only making me high and keeping me turned on, but helping to blunt the pain, too.

My hair was hanging down in front of me toward the floor, so my vision at that point was pretty limited. But I heard him undoing his pants and then the sound of a bunch of clothes hitting the floor. He repositioned himself in front of me, pushed my hair on to my back and pulled it so that my head faced forward, yanked the gag off and then rammed his cock into my mouth. He grabbed my face and began to skullfuck me, the only difficult part of that being just finding a good breathing rhythm while he repeatedly sandwiched his dick between my lips and then pistoned it into my throat. He wasn't all that big, maybe five inches, so once I got a good air gulping rhythm I was able to accommodate him pretty easily. He shot a salty load into my mouth and I swallowed it. "Oishikatta (did it taste good)?" "Hai goshujinsama," I affirmed. "Yappa ii ko da na (you really are a good girl)" he calculated. "Doomo arigatou goshujinsama," I acknowledged.

He wacked up the vibrator to full and I instantly orgasmed, cursing in english as the pleasure conquered me. He strolled around behind me and clamped  my ankles to a spreader bar. He undid the  rope keeping my body bent so that I could straighten up. He slapped my breasts and pulled and twisted the nipples several times, making me see stars. He anchored the back of my breast harness to the top of the rack and then picked up the spreader bar and forced my legs upward, quickly and precisely tying the spreader bar to rings on the poles on either side of the apparatus. I was now fully spread open and facing forward. Katono-san got on his knees and started to suck on my pussy and clit. "Ah, oishii!" he enthused as he distended my clit with his suction and lapped up my juices. I started to cum again while he did this.

"You know what? I think I'm perhaps being too nice. You have strong endurance because most girls would be crying their heads off by now, but still, I'm not happy with the results of our little training session so far," he informed me. He whipped my breasts several more times and then flogged my inner thighs, which stung like a bitch. Seeing my reaction, he did it again. Then he produced a wooden spoon and slapped my clit with it, which was also excruciatingly painful because it was stiff, engorged and slightly distended  from being sucked on. Then I felt several more shots across the ass with a whip and my whole groin region had been set ablaze, making me feel like I had the wind knocked out of me.

He came right up into my face and squatted slightly, withdrew the vibrating egg from me, grabbed my raw red ass hard, which made me cringe, and pushed his cock into my pussy. I let out a long moan and then felt him slap my breasts again before he began to thrust. "God, your pussy feels so good," he told me in Japanese as I felt my love canal  being turned into a cock comforter. The sensations, especially contrasting with the more negative things I was feeling at the time, were wonderful. What he didn't have in length he had in thickness and hardness and I was going to cum again, though the pleasurable sensations from my cunt were interrupted by the stinging and aching from him grabbing my overly sensitive butt cheeks. Finally, he nudged me over the edge and I shouted in Japanese, "Iku! Iku! Iku (I'm, cumming! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!)" while he masturbated himself inside me. He lasted a while and I had three more orgasms before he flushed his balls into my open hole.

He let me hang there while his cum obscenely dripped out of me and on to the floor. After he grabbed a bit of a respite, he untied the ropes and removed the nipple clamps and I shook my limbs out. I thought we were done, but no. He guided me over to the stocks and I put my head and hands in them. He anchored my legs to the base of the stocks so that they would stay open. He slipped the ballgag back in my mouth. He then went about whipping and spanking my ass and thighs again. Finally, my system had enough and I couldn't help but to start crying and begging him to stop. It felt like someone had slathered napalm on my entire lower backside. He continued to punish this area of my body for another 15 minutes. Now if he was going to fuck me again I didn't think he would be able to get it up for another hour at his age. But I guess the sight of me bawling my eyes out got him hard in just a few minutes. Unfortunately for me, the piece de resistance of our encounter was going to be anal sex without lubrication. He had to use my hips for leverage to push himself into me and that hurt a ton not to mention the burning and aching sensations I felt when he burrowed his dick through my backdoor. Because he was an older gentleman and had already cum twice, he was in me for a fucking long while, or so it seemed, before he finally splooged my poop chute with the remainder of what was in his balls.

He released me from the stocks and then commented, "I didn't think I would be able to break you after you withstood the earlier punishment, but I finally got to you," he chuckled. I answered by saying some lame, cliched horseshit like, "Master is just too strong for me" in Japanese. "Go and have a bath and get dressed and then I'll have my driver take you guys to your hotel. Please come over to play again soon if you're so inclined," he said. I thanked him, bowed and went to the bathroom. The hot water felt like it was boiling when it splashed on to my butt,  breast and legs, so I just used cold water, hoping it would lessen the swelling. When I put my clothes back on, it felt like someone was scraping my skin with a cheese grater.

John, Sayuri and the driver were waiting in the livingroom. I thanked Mrs. Katono for her hospitality. On the way back to the hotel, I told John about all I had been through. I also let him know that he wasn't getting anything off of me the next couple of days because my body was just too beat up. As for what he and Sayuri did, as I anticipated, he just wasn't that attracted to her, so he had her blow him and then sucked it up and held and cuddled her, telling her how beautiful she still was. She  stroked his cock and then got on top of him and rode herself to several orgasms. His lack of ardor for Sayuri helped stave off his ejaculation by a good ways, he laughed.

When we returned to the hotel, I had John get a boatload of ice, load it into the tub on top of me with my legs splayed on the edges of the it like there were stirrups on them and then told him to go to a certain bookstore and buy every known recent Japanese guitar magazine he could find. I spent the better part of two days in that tub reading before I was healed enough to want to do anything. I charged John TWO expensive Japanese signature guitars, total of about $15,000, for that. And I also used him as my coolie when I went guitar and book shopping the two days after that.

Mind you, I wasn't mad at John and I was glad for the experiences I had even as hard as many night think they were. The worst of it for me was not being used in the way Katono-san did, but the hour after hour tedium of the negotiating process. When we got home almost a week early, John cut me a check for $50,000 because, according to press reports, the contract his and Katono-san's outfit had agreed to was worth upwards of $10 million a year. "You're becoming my little fix it girl," he said to me over dinner the day we got home. I smiled at that, but the truth was I was acting more like a particularly talented escort. Both things were fine with me. It's all good fun.

Oh yeah, I bought 20 guitars on that trip plus the three I had John buy for me. My GAS (Guitar Acquisition Syndrome) was quenched for the time being. My sexual appetite, on the other hand.