YF - Chapter 6

Riley uneasily watches the two maids enter the room holding the ropes. A third follows with a cart. A fourth woman crowds into the room, this one wearing a stern expression and a white apron.

“Turn,” she says, gesturing imperiously at Riley.

Riley reluctantly turns in a circle. The stern woman scowls at her, then leans forward and points a finger at Riley’s flaccid penis.

“Make it hard,” she orders.

Riley takes a deep breath, controls her temper, and tries to ignore the three maids. Maids who work in a house like this have seen some things, but they’re all blushing. Riley doesn’t blush.

She pinches her foreskin and tugs, then pulls on the shaft a few times, remembering what the soap girl did to her. It’s enough. Her cock swells quickly enough that things don’t get awkward.

The woman looks at it critically. She’s tapping one finger against her cheek, appearing to think.

“Your bottom is your best feature,” she says at last.

“Huh?” Riley replies, but the woman is already directing the maids, who swarm Riley with the ropes. Within minutes, Riley is elaborately tied with her hands snugly behind her back. She’s stark naked, facedown, ass up on the cart. Her erection hangs, swaying. The maids gag her with a strip of silk, but leave her eyes uncovered.

The stern woman snaps her fingers, and two of the maids push the cart out of the room and into the hallway. Riley wants to squeeze her eyes shut so at least she doesn’t have to see people seeing her this way, but she can’t do that. It would show weakness. The halls out of the house are bad enough, but it’s worse when they leave the building, rolling the cart into the open air, across a bridge, and to another building.

Riley’s composure is shaken as they reach the highest point of the bridge, which overlooks a garden.

Aki is there, wearing a yukata and sitting on a stone bench, looking idly at her phone.

She looks up. Their eyes meet.

Aki, normally unflappable, looks startled.

But then Riley is rolling down the other side. In moments she’s in another building and there’s a bump as they go through some doors. Mouthwatering aromas engulf her as though she is sinking into another bath. Her temper is so fired up that she barely notices, but she does notice when objects are being placed on her skin.

It takes every ounce of discipline she has to breathe evenly and stay calm as the stern woman artfully arranges delectable sushi, using Riley’s body as the serving tray. Riley twitches when cold rice touches the bare, sensitive skin of her bottom, and the stern woman hisses at her.

Riley holds still.