There weren't any requests for Sandra and I to entertain anyone while we were in Aomori, but we at least were able to have some fun playing with each other on those cheap (though by no means bad) Yamaha acoustics we bought in Tokyo.

The day of the wedding finally came and we had to get up at 5 a.m. so that a stylist could make Sena up, her face and neck covered in white makeup with blood red lips and her hair sculpted into an old fashioned form complete with decorative sticks in it. It was then covered by white headwear and a similarly hued wedding kimono. She looked absolutely stunning. Meanwhile, Guy was attired in a greyish blue male wedding kimono and looked kinda dorky, to be honest. Then everybody headed to a local shrine/temple where the actual ceremony was held at 1 p.m. The pace was excruciatingly slow and the atmosphere heavy with the solemnity of the occasion.

Once that part of it was over and Guy and Sena were formally hitched, they took a group photo with the families and then of just him with Sena. Guy was relieved that it went off without him putting a foot wrong. We went to the wedding hall for the reception with Guy attired in a suit and Sena in a regular wedding dress. There were speeches by friends of Sena, her  older brother and her dad, which I translated for Sandra, though none of them were THAT memorable, before dinner was served. When that was over with and it was time for the guests to depart, they were handed small gifts for taking the trouble to attend the festivities. No, I am not kidding, though the gifts were about the level of tchotchkies.

Before getting into the car to go back to Sena's parents home, Sandra and I hugged her and complimented her on how beautiful she looked and how moving the ceremony was. The strain of the affair tired both of them out and they bathed and went to bed as soon as they could. They were back to their usual selves, though, the morning after. However, Sena and Guy had to go to visit the grave site of her grandparents on her  mother's side to, under the Japanese belief system, report her marriage to them. Sena had tears streaming down her cheeks as she prayed since her grandmother had passed only 18 months ago. She also left a framed photo of her and Guy in their wedding finery on the grave marker. The three of us hugged her afterward and she was fine by the time we returned to the home she grew up in.

The day after, the marriage was logged on her family register and she had copies made of it to document the union for immigration reasons. 24 hours later, we boarded our private jet, which landed in Hawaii to drop the two lovebirds and their luggage off and then Sandra and I continued on home. We got into John Wayne at just past 8 a.m.. I rented a car and we picked up my dogs at the kennel. God, it was good to be back home and it was even better to be with my dogs again. Sandra and I took them for a very long walk and then I treated them up bigtime when we got back to my house. Sandra and I both took our clothes off and went to bed and the dogs were all over us because they were so glad to have us back in their safe place. We napped for a while before I got up and ordered a large pizza since I was in no mood to make anything at all that day. I answered the door in a terrycloth robe when the pizza came and then woke Sandra up. Sandra had only three pieces while I scarfed down the rest. Sandra had never seen me eat like that before and jokingly asked if I was pregnant. We went back to bed and watched tv. I dozed off again and slept for a few hours. It was dusk before I finally rose out of my slumber. Sandra was in my music room playing her new guitars. I wasn't in the mood to join her. She had already fed the dogs for me. So I returned to bed and went back to sleep. Sometime later, Sandra woke me up when she slid into bed next to me and cuddled me. I revisited dreamland and didn't get up again until 4 a.m.

This was the first time I felt that lethargic from travel. As it turned out, there was a good reason for it: a couple of hours later, I felt the first cramps of my period. By that time, Sandra was up and getting ready for work. I took an Ibuprofen and went back to bed after feeding my mutts. Sandra was at the office until nine that night getting caught up on the work she had piled up while she was in Japan. I was feeling so shitty that I didn't even eat anything the entire day until Sandra came home with some prepared meals from the supermarket that I microwaved. 

By the time that Sena and Guy returned, though, I was pretty much over it and made them a cake from scratch to welcome the newlyweds home. They had a ball in Hawaii Sena's tan lines were very sexy the way they framed her nipples and pussy. Guy put the wedding band he bought when he fake proposed to me back on. Sena's gold one he wore first on his ring finger before mine, which I was fine with. They retired to their bedroom and just kicked back and watched some Japanese television together. They stayed there for the rest of the night.

The next day, which was a Sunday, Guy wanted to start working out again, so he, Sena and I went to the pool in my development to swim some laps. Sandra tagged along. When he went through the gate surrounding the pool area, to my astonishment, there was John! I hadn't seen John in a long time and he would later tell me that given our ages, he now pushing 60 and me in my early 20's and having an  active personal life he didn't want to interfere.

I walked up to him. "Hey Miwa, how are you sweetheart?" John enthused. We  hugged and I then introduced the others. "This is my boyfriend Guy  and his wife Sena," I began, as he shook hands with them. I could see the question  marks on John's face and so I explained it to him in a low whisper. "And you remember Sandra" I asserted. "Sorry, but I don't,"  he stuttered. I refreshed his memory of the day I did an S&M demonstration in his office and John eventually fucking her. That pricked his memory. "So what do you do Sandra?" he asked, just making conversation. She answered that she was a department manager at her company.. "You're a little young for that, aren't you?" he wondered. Sandra admitted that perhaps she was, but she also started to tell him about her accomplishments almost like she was interviewing for a job with John. "Wow, I'm impressed!" he responded, looking her over. "Miwa has been really good to my company over the years and so anyone who has earned her friendship I'm inclined to view favorably." I thanked John for that.

Of course, Sandra knew who John was. Wall Street loved him because his ability to read people and his "I don't give a shit what anyone thinks" attitude kept his company moving forward into loads of black ink every quarter. John once said to me over dinner that if he is going to fail he doesn't want to do it in a small way, but with loud, fiery technicolor explosions and body parts flying  everywhere, which helped me understand why  he was willing to resort to some of the stuff I did for him.

Anyway, while Guy, Sena and I were swimming laps, Sandra and John were engaged in what appeared to be rapt conversation about corporate matters and he was generous enough to give her some advice about dealing with certain situations that sometimes arise. When I exited the water and rejoined Sandra and John, he turned to me and evaluated, "Jesus Miwa, this is one smart girl here. I wish I had something open for her," he told me. That made me smile because he was right. Sandra, for all of her personal sexual quirks, had an incisive mind and she was driven. That work ethic helped her get a certificate from MI after she had already gotten her bachelor's in finance and she was playing guitar in a band while working her way up to a leadership position in her firm in just three years.

John announced that he needed to go home since he had already been sitting out in the sun long enough and invited Sandra to have lunch with him. The lunch wasn't much. He just ordered some Chinese food while they sat across the dinner table talking to each other. Their companies weren't competitors, which is why she was able to converse so freely with him. She found him to be alternately charming and blunt and the way his mind works struck her as interesting. She had been used by now to some of the often  out of leftfield thoughts that Guy's wide ranging intellect produced, but John was more hard headedly practical and less of a hippie. She also knew he had a nice cock from the time he had rammed her with it during my S&M demo in front of his shocked underlings.

Monday, around 10 a.m., John called her company. One of the receptionists picked up and when he told her who he was, she stammered and asked him if he was THAT person that Wall Street was besotted with. He, of course, replied that he was and she transferred the call to Sandra's office. She picked up. "Hi John! How are you sweety?" she chirped. "Oh I'm doing very well, dear," he retorted. He then asked her out to dinner that night and she accepted.

Sandra didn't have to put in any overtime that day and at just short of 5 p.m., right before she was going to leave, she got a call from the big boss and was ordered to see him in his office. "Oh shit, what now?" she muttered to herself. She knocked on his door and was bid entrance and then to have a seat. Her boss wanted to know what her relationship with John was and whether she was being recruited to move to his company. Sandra told her boss the truth about being introduced to John by her roommate who had done occasional work for him and that the phone call earlier that day was just for a date. "I'm glad to know that, Sandra," her boss expressed. "Look for any synergy opportunities you can in your discussions with him." "Yes Sir," she agreed.

"Listen Sandra, the guy is a real shark. I know him a little bit and even played a couple rounds of golf with him at charity events. So just watch out in your dealings with him." "Yes Sir, I will. Thanks for the warning." It wasn't like her boss was telling him anything she didn't already know about John anyway. Six hours later, after he had taken her to a very expensive restaurant, she was on her back having her brains drilled out by John's thick dick. She didn't come home until 5 a.m. and that was for a change of clothes so she could go to work. Later that week, John invited her to spend the weekend with him on his boat. So now I wasn't only sharing Guy with Sena, I was having my access to Sandra hindered by her dalliance with John. When she returned Sunday night, she was tanned and thoroughly in love. Monday, I phoned John to warn him that Sandra was bisexual and was more or less my girlfriend and to understand that she needs to be with women frequently. "Miwa, I feel I can trust you, especially since you have protected some significant secrets about the way I have done business in the past, so as long as she is fucking you while she's with me I'm okay with it." "Thanks for being understanding, John. I love Sandra and she really is a jewel, so I just want to protect her and I wanted to let you know a little more about her because I want you to be happy, too." "Thanks my little turtledove. I appreciate it. Sandra is becoming more special to me with each time I see her, so I won't hurt her. You have my word on that," he propounded. "Thank you John. You're such a sweety," I replied.

Sandra came home from work that night at 8:30. I reheated her dinner for her and then we went to bed and had sex. She asked me if I was jealous of John and I honestly answered that I was to an extent, but that since I am bisexual myself I have no right to complain. Sena was still allowing me to eat her pussy and she would finger me while we kissed, too, often with Guy watching. So it's not like I was left completely out in the cold. That usually was followed by him boning the bejesus out of her since the sight of what we were doing got him super horny.

Sandra's going out with John started affecting her image at work, unfortunately. While her bosses knew that she was a comer in the company, her being bedded by a much older man and one of the most respected CEOs in Southern California business circles generated whispers that she was a gold digger.Others more cruelly commented about why John would go out with a girl who had such small breasts and attributed it to either underlying pedophilia or "yellow fever." After all, Sandra wasn't the typical "trophy wife" type and, while very cute and exotic looking as an Asian girl, she wasn't as glamorous as, say, newscaster Julie Chen, who married a septagenarian Viacom bigwig in her 30's, or somebody like that.

The other thing was that Sandra often rubbed some of the bigger egos at the company the wrong way. While she was a really sweet girl at heart, she nonetheless talked like a musician. That ugly head rose in one discussion she had with her firm's project manager, who asked her at one point, "well, what would John say about that?" "Well shit, Jerry, I don't know. Why don't you phone him up and ask him, you dick." In her mind, she continued her answer, "if he doesn't cut your balls off first."

Sandra enjoyed John's swagger even if he could sometimes put things in a less than diplomatic way. It made her feel like she was part of the family of the biggest bear on the block and it really played to every woman's need for security. He liked the fact that she never denied him sexually, though that was because he knew what he was doing in the sack and had some staying power. She enjoyed it as much as she did.

In early September, Sandra got called into her boss' office again. Sandra wondered if it was going to be about some of the rumors circulating around the company about her and John. Happily, it wasn't. "So I hear you're not just a musician in your off hours, but a really good one," he opened. Sandra giggled and waved it off with an, "I guess." "You were in a band a while back, right?" "Yes Sir." "Are you still playing with them?" "No Sir. I quit when I got promoted because I no longer had time for it." "What are the other members doing?" "Nothing that I know of right now, Sir. When I left, they weren't able to find anyone to replace me and so for all practical purposes we are broken up." "Well, do you guys think you can get back together and play my daughter's 16th birthday party?"

"Sir, with all due respect, why are you asking me about this? You can find loads of other bands who would love to do the gig." "Yeah, I hear you Sandra, but I can trust you and I don't like the idea of letting tattooed punks I don't know into my home." "Sir, you understand that we're a heavy metal band, right"? "No I didn't. Does that mean you guys sing about Satan and all that shit?" "No Sir. Our brand of metal is more like party type music, but the lyrics can be pretty sexual at times. We're also an all girl band and we do songs by a band called Scorpions. They're melodic and the musicianship is often pretty spectacular. You should see our lead guitarist. She's amazing." "Is that the little Asian girl who sometimes comes to bring you lunch or dinner/" "Yes Sir." "Do you think you can make it happen?" "How much money are we talking about, Sir?" "What do you usually charge?" "If you really want us to put on a show, Sir, we're talking in the neighborhood of $3000 and that includes pyro, the permit and inspection fee for it, lights and a soundman. The only thing we need you to do is build a six foot high stage that can support about three tons of equipment and has all the proper electrical hookups so that everybody will be able to see us."

Sandra was exaggerating some of these facts and figures in the hopes that he would decide not to ask her to try to reform the band, especially as they were going to have to rehearse their asses off to get back into gigging form. "Sounds like a plan. I'll bring in the architect who designed my house for that stage. You bring the band and the rest of the equipment." "Yes Sir. I will have to leave work earlier since we'll need to rehearse a lot over the next month, if that's okay. I can take some of the work home and finish it after we practice." "Thanks Sandra. Me and my daughter really appreciate it." "Yes Sir."

Sandra called me as soon as she got out of the meeting to let me know what had just occurred. I wondered if she had bitten off more than she could chew here. If we couldn't pull off this gig she would be in deep shit with the man at the top of the food chain. I told her I would make some calls and see what I could do. First, I phoned Terry, who was still asleep. "That's a pretty tall order at the moment," she replied when I filled her in on the demands of the gig. "But I could use the money,  too, so I'll do it. Let me call Denise and see what she says," she offered. By the end of the day, Terry called me back and everybody was on board. She scheduled rehearsals for tomorrow, but they would have to be at my house for the next week because they couldn't line up a rehearsal; studio that soon.

Just to make things easier, we decided to do our set from two years ago since we thought it would have the most immediate impact and we could probably do it in our sleep anyway. Boy were we rusty during that first rehearsal. It was UGLY. By the end of the second week, though, we began to click again. At the end of the third week, we were ready to go. In the meantime, I managed to find a pyro tech and he would bring his own equipment . We had him over to our rehearsals, which were now in a proper studio, to go through how he had designed our show. We were also awaiting approval from the fire marshal since Sandra's boss' house, which was on a two acre spread, was in the hills about five miles or so from mine that were prone to brush fires. Terry's brother would run sound and I hired a couple of roadies who had worked tours with a big name band but who were unemployed now since that band was on hiatus. I also brought in an electrician to ensure we didn't electrocute ourselves or blow ourselves up.

We finally got the permit for the pyro. One good thing about doing this gig was that we could load in whenever we wanted. Not only that, the volume of the show wouldn't be a problem due to the size and geographic features of the site. The stage that had been built was very nicely appointed, probably costing in excess of $10,000 just for the materials and labor. The electrical routs were well thought out, too, and we had no problem hooking our amps, PA and lights up. I bought a new talk box just for this show since my old one was shot and we did a soundcheck that demonstrated it was working well.

We went on at seven and as we came out of the first riffs of "Blackout," the flash bombs went off as we went into the main rhythm part, which got a big rise out of the hundred or so people who were there. It was the riding a bicycle analogy again, as we were soon fully engaged and killing massively. For the $500 bucks we paid the pyro guy, he was doing a pretty nice job and when the roadies turned on the fog machines during "The Zoo" and then more flash bombs went off at the end to the tune, it was quite the visual treat on a budget.The marine layer was coming in off the coast and the cool breeze felt good against our leather clad skin. We ended the main part of our set with a medley of "Arizona" and "Coast to Coast" so we could strut our chops. Of course, they wanted more and we came out again amid flashing white light and as we kicked into the harmony part of "Rock You Like a Hurricane," more pyro ascended to the sky and the fog machines came on again. The birthday girl's friends were getting a kick out of the show and, after we rolled out a version of "Winds of Change," there was more demand to hear us again, whereupon we did "Fly to the Rainbow" and then closed things out with "Coming Home."

We played for about an hour and 45 minutes and Sandra's boss was pleased with what we did. We fucking smoked, so yeah, we were elated, too. The kids said we kicked ass and Sandra, who had been stressing out over this, not only played extremely well, as she usually did, but made some brownie points with someone who mattered for her career. Sandra phoned John and told her how the gig went and then we loaded out and left since we didn't want to hang with a bunch of teenagers. She showered at my place and went to John's and spent the rest of the weekend with him on his boat. When she returned Sunday night, I started making out with her and when I went down on her, there was still some of John's load inside of her. I ate it out of her anyway and brought her to a number of orgasms before we fell asleep.

Monday, when she went to work, she got called into her boss' office. "Listen Sandra, everybody here knows how hard you work. I watched how much you enjoyed yourself Friday and if you want to occasionally take time off to do concerts with your band you have my blessing." Sandra was overjoyed about this for two reasons: one, she really had scored big points with her boss; two, she had felt guilty about being the reason the band ceased to be and now that boat anchor was being pulled up and their ship could sail again. She phoned me first with the news before talking with everyone else. At the end of the year come bonus time, she was given a bigger than expected amount. She used it to add more guitars to her collection.

New Year 's Eve, while at a party John's company had thrown for employees and clients, he proposed to Sandra and she accepted. They married three months later. Less than six months after that, he would be dead of a massive coronary suffered in his sleep. Sandra, who kept her job even though she was now the wife of a very rich man, was devastated, especially since they had made love just the night before. She got half of his $200 million estate, including the house, in his will, with the rest going to his son and a couple of charities he favored, including his alma mater. I was sad, too, not just due to my association and work for John, but he also let me have sex with Sandra occasionally because he knew she needed it. She ultimately quit her job because the backbiting in the aftermath of his death just became too nasty, with one coworker, in a moment of anger during a meeting, accusing her of "fucking him into a grave." That got the coworker terminated for harassment, but Sandra had clearly had it with the viciousness and pettiness of corporate life and felt that carrying on wouldn't be good for her mental health.

I lived with her at John's residence a few months after that because she needed someone to be there with her in that big house. She thought about giving it to Sena and Guy, but the tax issues, especially with regard to Guy not being able to afford even the property taxes on it, put the kabosh on that. So when she finally sold it and moved back in with me, she bought Sena and Guy a starter home in Irvine and that is where they live now. Sena was grateful since she could now decorate the home herself and it was in fact hers. She did a beautiful job and Guy loves it. Guy teaches high school now and Sena continues to be his collared slave. I still love him, but it became time to move on with the changes in everyone's living situations. Sandra is my sole lover now and we still gig with the band as a lark.

Sandra continues to use John's last name as a way to remember him, other than the pictures of him she has sitting on one of our dressers. I re-collared her shortly after she moved back in for good and she remains my slave. Our love for each other never faded even when she was married.

Since morphing into a beautiful Asian female thanks to the magic coin, it has been one hell of an interesting life with a lot of twists and turns. I have experienced more profound emotions and obtained access to activities that may have been impossible had I been male. The sex has been fucking spectacular. But even this many years on now with estrogen coursing through my veins, I still think mostly like a guy. Emotionally, life is more satisfying as a female, though I have enough male left in me to not overthink myself into a pretzel as too many women do. I revel in the fact that guys and many women want to fuck me rather than resenting it. Thank God I got to experience the other side of the coin.

The End