Kitan Club · Kitan Club, February 1955 Special Enlarged Issue

How I Was Tormented

Author: Hōzuka Mitsuo Printed pages: 112–121 PDF pages: 105 –114

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【PDF 105／印刷112】
ボクの責め方（令嬢浜江の巻）
宝塚二三夫

正月の午後、謹厳実直なる大学教授の令嬢として、盛装で訪問して来たこの浜江。目的は日頃の親交に対する年頭挨拶と贈物である。

「サア、お上りなさい。今日は皆休みの上に誰も居ない。正月ですからボク一人、こんなに炬燵と仲良しで、ウスボンヤリして居たんですよ。サア、とても寒いからお上り。かたくならないで……。誰も居ないんだし、サービスは出来ないが、丁度いい、浜江さんの世話女房のレッスンだとお父さんに云って下さい。ハハハ、サア、早くッ」

おしゃべりもなかなか忙しい。「旧年中は――」の紋切型の何とか小笠原流か。

「でも……」
「でももないよ。今日はいやに変だナ。誰かとアベックの約束？」
「あたし、そんな……」
「サ、ここへお膝をお入れなさい。温かいですよ。ハハハ」
「じゃア、ごめん下さい」

裾さばき美しく、白足袋がすべり上って来る。格子模様のリン[判読不確実]のコートを脱ぎ、白魚の手さばきしとやかに畳むと隅に置き、自分の草履を揃えると、襟前をととのえて炬燵前へとにじり寄って来る。

「ほんとに寒いこと」

と、見上げる目は美しく、切れ上った目尻もきらりとボクを射込む微笑の風。

【PDF 106／印刷113】
「手をお入れなさい」
と、木製やぐらの掛布団をふくらませる。
「ハイ、すみません」
と素直に入れて来る両手。
「きれいだね、それ、和島田？　結綿？」
「何とか島田って云ってましたの……」
「何だ、ハハハ」
「恥ずかしいワ、ホホホ」
「何か知らないが、女ってむずかしいんだナー。芸、舞踊にくらべるべくもないが、素人娘としては全く美しい。お正月ぐるみに見られぬモダンな流行も、赤よし、愉し、美し。どうやらこの殺し文句にもボクは一本参ったようだ」

「人が来るとうるさいから、入口、鍵かけていい？」
「エエ、でも、わたしお邪魔になるといけませんワ……」
「めったにない事ですよ、ボクが一人ぼっちになってるなんか。そう云わずに、いて下さい」

立ち上って障子、縁側、廊下、玄関、間仕切扉、入口の格子戸の施錠をして、戻って来る。
「イヤ、でも……」
と顔を上げない。既に色情街道に乗っている浜江。
「アア寒いッ」
の声と共に掛布団の下へ手を入れるのをチャンスに、やぐらの上に前屈みになった浜江の手を指先から滑り込ませるように、両手の甲をぎゅっと掴み握りする。その突然の行動、彼女がアッともスッとも云わぬ先を越して、
「アア温い……。なんて柔らかい手だねえ」
と手の甲、手首、腕の下部へ愛撫を始める。

彼女は一言もなし。
「食べられたら光栄やワ」
「しびれが切れたの。ハハハ、膝をお崩しなさいよ」
「恥ずかしいワ……」

掴まれた両手を離そうともせず、もじもじ腰をよじらす浜江。
「サ、楽におしよ……」

【PDF 107／印刷114】
[この頁は挿絵と三段組。中央部に濃い汚れがあり、一部判読不能。]

「どう、少し楽になった？」
正月衣裳は実によく似合う。浜江は満足げでもあり、男の下心を察しているようでもある。

「うまい事云って……」
と云いながら、帯のあたりを直そうとする浜江。ボクはその動きを利用し、うしろへ回って両手首を握る。
「いや、少し強いわよ」
と云うと、肉体の反応は早く、胸から上を反らせるようにして炬燵布団の上へ身を預けた。

[中段数行判読不能]

ボクの指は着物の合わせや帯の下へ入り、彼女の身体を探る。浜江は明確に拒まず、かすかな身動きと吐息だけで応じる。

【PDF 108／印刷115】
言葉尻を捕えて攻めの一手。
「まあ……」

片方の白足袋の足が、家から一直線にボクの家へ来たことを証明する何の汚れもない履きたてであるのを目の下にしたボクは、すぐにその足袋に包まれた足へ胸の動きを感じた。今は足首の一部だけしか見えぬのは更に一層の刺激である。片手に持った浜江の手首は、まるで一つに合体したような柔らかさである。

「どうなさるの？」
「あんまりきれいだから、どうしようかとうっとりしてるんだ」

彼女は何を求めているのか、何の反応も抵抗もない。ボクはどっかと坐って、
「白魚をごちそうになろうか」
と、期せずして口走ると、彼女の手の甲から十指へ顔を押付けて唇をこすりつける。

「まあ」
上半身を軽くゆすって形式的に抵抗。それにお構いなく、ボクの舌端は清く活動開始。手首こそ離せ、ボクの両手は彼女の二の腕から肘へとかけて片方ずつしっかりねじり掴み、後手型から崩させない。手首のところは慣れた得意の技術。

「まあ、こそばゆい、堪忍して頂戴、フフフ」
肩先をびくびく動かして云う。
再び片手握りに手首を留めると、片手は裾の下にはみ出した純白の足袋のこはぜを外す。
「じゃ、こっちの白魚でもごちそうになろうか」

やぐらの上へ胸から押しかぶさるようにねじ伏せ、上と下に取り押えたというところ。
「堪忍して頂戴」

入りそうな羞恥に、にじらす身体は徐々に車のスタートの如くずるずると横へすべり、やぐら縁から落ちて行く。掛布団と共に横へ倒れた浜江。両手を後手に掴み替えると、残った白足袋も同様に素足にする。

「堪忍して……」

うつ伏せにして押えつけ、一息吐くのを待つ。まもなく一息入れたのを利用して、ボクのハンカチは彼女の両手首に巻きつく。それはボクが手を離すまで彼女には感じない程度。ボクの手が離れて、又足首を掴んで浅く宙に浮かして、足の小指のつけ根にまずチュッと吸付く。

【PDF 109／印刷116】
「アレーッ！」
実に可愛い悲鳴である。そして初めて、手をくくられているのに気付いたように、足掻きもだえる浜江。
「放して！　Iさん、放して……」

勿論、むき出した無垢のジャコ貝のような素足から、手も唇も離れない。ボクの舌は既に動き、足の甲から土踏まずを撫で、足の五指へキッスというより賞味をつづける。
「アーッ！　堪忍！」
彼女は喘声を一声張り上げる。自然に乱れて、膝が露出する気配に、うんと力を入れて彼女をうつ伏せ気味にして畳へ頬を擦りつける。
「お顔が……汚れますよ、フフフ」
「それでも、堪忍、放して！」

[挿絵の周囲と下段中央は印刷汚れのため数行判読不能。]

足指をくわえられ、舐められるにつれて、浜江は声を殺して身をよじる。涙らしいものが見えるが、それが痛みか羞恥か感激かは判らない。
「泣いてるの？」
彼女は答えず、目を閉じたまま息だけを荒くする。

【PDF 110／印刷117】
純情一途、へたっとした色。そのスタイルのため選んでいる雪の素足は、ボクの家へ来る前に入浴済みとはっきりわかる。無垢の足の裏、その先に並ぶ珠の五指の裏、そして指の根元から土踏まずへのキッスの流れ作業を終えて、令嬢のように彼女の全身を見据える。

くすぐったいからでもあろうが、蝶々のように十指を伸ばし、更に指間をひろげて何の反抗もなく受け入れるようでさえある。足の甲への舌の愛撫を始める。
「アッ！　こそばい！　堪忍して」
笑い声どころではない。自由な片足を、娘らしくない足掻き方は期せずして裾前をすっかり乱して、全く秋風にゆれる風情である。そしてすぐに大きく息を吸う。
「痛い？」
又小さく横に振る。
恥ずかしさを隠すようにボクの胸へ顔をうずめる。乱れ髪が二、三本散る。

浜江のキッスの味は実に清純にして甘い。形容で云えば三盆白でもなく、氷砂糖でもなく、やはりグラニュー糖であろうか。最終的表現としては、つき立ての餅にグラニュー糖をふりかけた味と云うべきであろう。
「良かった？」
彼女は相変らず目をあけない。
「始めて？」
小さくうなづく。
「くくられたのは？」
又小さくうなづく。
「どうしておくくりになるの？」
「……絶対征服のためだネエ」
「そう、いいワ……」

更に一吸いキッスの後、可愛い顔ばかりを見ていた目を下へやると、膝小僧が丸出しになっている。彼女を畳の上へ仰向きにする。唇に唇を重ねながら、着物を乱し、腰から股へかけて露わにする。あるものは体臭だけである。生娘、令嬢育ちである限り、そこまで来ると顔を立て得ず、太腿から根元まで真赤に逆上しているように思われる。処女の羞恥は十分物語っている。

【PDF 111／印刷118】
これからはいくら書いても同形的な筆致があるだけ。ただ歌麿調の描写あるのみ。信じられるのは事後の彼女の姿、それは乱れるだけ乱れた着物という形容詞以外云い方がない。そして、たとえ簡単でも、両手両足を縛られたままボクの前に転がって、晒しものになっている事である。

ボクは屠蘇を一杯だけ引っかけると、後はピース一本。さて味は？　案外平凡な味というべきか。しかし生娘らしい柔順さは十分頂けたものの、文学的なそれらしきものはなし。しかし、この雨にうたれた牡丹の風情は、とても比類なき美しさである。

そして彼女の帯締めを抜き取り、既にゆるんでいるハンカチの細目を解くと、全く無抵抗のうちに、今度は和服特有の袖の振りの開き口へ帯締めを通し、むき出しの両手を一応本格的にしようとした。お太鼓帯では本格的な高手小手は無理でも、彼女の柔らかさを利用し、腰の上に両手を横一直線に載せるように、丁度後手に担ぎ上げる感じで胸から反り上げてしまう。

次にむき出しで転がる白魚のような浜江の臀部を見た時、そして目を下ろして両足首へ移し、締った腰紐まで目を動かしている。どうして仰向けにせざるを得ない感情に走ったか。そして勿論そうする。

さっきからじっと目を閉じたままの浜江。顔色が今度は青くというか、蒼白くというべきか、白く白く、眉まで消えんばかり。その唇のあたりの鮮血は、顎の下、胸のあたりまで一面に紅が延び渡って、ボクの乱暴を物語っている。胸の高息、軽く上げた両脚、くびれた足首、桃色に光る爪の色、あとは七夕の色紙の乱れの如き衣裳。

その姿態の前に、わざと威儀を正して坐ったボク。
「お嬢さん……」
面目な呼声に、はっとしたらしく、ぱっちりといっても丸い目でない細い目を開けて、
「エッ？」
天井を見て、そしてボクを探すようにほんの少しこちらを向いて、ボクの目と合うと、伏目勝ちではあるが、わざとらしい閉じ目でないまま、小さい可愛いピンク色の唇を開けて声を出す。
「負けましたワ……あたし、どうなさるの？」
「いろんな約束事をききたいな」
「どんなお約束ごと？」
「勿論、これから先の話ですよ」
「わかったワ、助けてネエ。あたし負けたの……このまま捨てないでネエ、お願い」
「そりゃ、お嬢さん次第ですよ」
「エエ、Iさんが愛して下さればネエ……」
「私の愛し方はこんなですよ」
「あたし、あなたの心がほしいの」

天井を見つめた瞳には涙の玉が溢れている。そしてうわごとのように言葉をつづける。
「あたし、あなたの心を掴むためなら、どんな事でもするワ。他の女の人の出来ない事、どんな苛められ方でも……」
「どんな事？」
「わからないワ。あたし、された事ないもの」
「例えば、考えてごらん」
催眠術にかかったようなものである。
「わからないワ、けど、今されてるみたいな事……」

【PDF 112／印刷119】
涙ぐむ声は言葉までくずれて来る。
「もっとひどいことよ」
「もっとひどいって？」
「だから考えてごらん……」
「あたし、もう殺されたっていい……」
「そんな事……、裸にされてるんですワ」

「云えないなら、嘘か？」
「ハイ、されます」
「そして……」

[頁上段から中段にかけて版面の欠損と濃い汚れがあり、多数の文字が判読不能。会話は、彼女がさらに強い責めにも従うと答え、羞恥のため泣き出す流れ。]

「もう堪忍……」
完全に泣き出す。
「泣きやんで？　そうしたら許してあげる」
そして唇をかみしめて涙を止める努力をする浜江。

手だけ[判読不能]。やがてボクは彼女の横に投げ出された[衣類／帯締め、判読不確実]へ手を伸ばし、結びを解く。

【PDF 113／印刷120】
細目に結んだ両足を見ると、純情無垢の雪の素足ではあるが、それでも裾前を合わせようともせず、ボクの胸に両手をあてたまま、ボクの身もとにぴったり頭部から頬を押付けて可憐な甘え方であり、心を静めているのであろう。

結髪の髪は相当に乱れている。そして今度は可愛がるキッス。ボクにしては平凡なキッスと云っても、喰わぬよりましなキッス。キッスしながらでもボクの目は、浜江のむき出しの盛り上った臀部から細目の足首、膝のあたり、足掻いて畳に爪立つ足の末端まで、舐めるように眺め動いている。

「足の縄も解いてあげようか？」
「まあ、くくられていたのですワネエ。まあ、フフフ」
少し顔を起して自分の下肢の露出を見ると、慌てて片手で裾をかき寄せて膝頭を隠し、
「堪忍、許してエ……」
と急に慌て出す。ボクの片手は楽に結び目を解くと、すぐ起してやる。
「すみません、有難う……」
あくまで純真可憐である。

そしてボクの顔や口のあたりを見ると、
「まあ、ホホホ」
と、こぼれるように笑う。すばやく袂からハンカチを出し、
「ごめんして頂戴」
とボクの唇のあたりを、しなだれかかるようにして拭きに来る。
「有難う……」
胸をうずかせて拭かすボクの心情は、直ちに次の残虐には進めない。
「お嬢さんも、ハハハ」
「お嬢さんなんて、イヤッ」
「じゃ、浜江ちゃん」

流し目でボクを睨むと、一しきり裾前をかき合わせてしゃんと起き直り、コンパクトを袖の間から抜き出して眺める。
「まあ、ホホホ、とても……ひどい方ネエ……」
コンパクトの鏡と半々で、細い目尻の流し目はボクを参らす。

ボクの見返す悩ましい目の光を見ると、ちらっと下を見た時、ボクの膝の横に皺になったボクのハンカチを見た浜江は、ぱっと再び顔を赤くして自分の膝へ隠し込む。その早さ。そして照れ隠しをして今頃になって膝をかき合わせて、
「ワタシ、どうしよう？　ごめんして頂戴」
いやに姉さんぶった浜江。
「一寸、ごめんネ」
と急いでポンポンとパフの活動を始める。
「待つ間の御駄賃だよ。動くと又縛り上げてしまうよ」
先を越して圧制する。
「だめだって、スケベジジイ」
と案外素直に膝小僧と太腿を出したまま化粧を始める。

「あたし、何もしませんワ。今、縛るっておっしゃったから……」
「縛られるの、イヤ？」
「エエ、それは……でも変趣味ネエ」

【PDF 114／印刷121】
「じゃ、もう縛らない……」
「あら、どうして？」
化粧の手を止めて目を見張る。
「かまわないんですよ、あたし、自分の思う通りする人が好きなんですもの。あたしも、やんちゃするもの。くくられて折檻される人があっていいのネエ。それでも……」
と、休めた手でボクの膝を突くほどに気を許して来る。ボクはむき出しの彼女の[腰／臀部、判読不確実]をつつく。
「有難う。ボクは浜江ちゃんにとうとう参った」
「嘘よ。あたしの方こそ」

鏡を直して化粧を続け、
「もう、あたま駄目……。こんなになると思わなかったもの」
何だかボクへの意味深長に聞える。
「帰り道まで持つかしら、ホホホ、イヤネ。一寸待って頂戴ネエ、直るかしら」
着物をあれこれと着付直しにかかる。

何とか恰好をつけた彼女。
「お粗末！　ごめんネエ」
全く打って変った親愛語で、云わずともボクの斜横に寄って、膝も手も差入れて来る。その手を布団の下で絡むと、可愛い可愛いわけで、そっと摺り合わせる。

ボクが入口の扉の錠を外しに出ている間に、浜江はすり抜けるように化粧室へ消えている。女のわずらわしさだった。もう一度食べたいような白魚の[手／足、判読不確実]。

十指をきっちり揃えて、やはり育ちのよさを表現して名残惜しそうに挨拶したものの、帰りかねる風情。送り狼になるといけないからと帰らす。このあっさりの引際が一番大切なものである点は、既に先輩達の証明済みであろう。

生娘、町娘、女学生とある内、令嬢として本格的なのはこの浜江が唯一のもので、高尚と気品のある女責めとして、せめて一日の絵とエピソードを拾い上げ、詳細に述べたいのである。

この令嬢浜江が、遂にマゾヒストの化身のようにボクの身辺にまとわりついて来るのは、丁度松本と同じケースで、真面目一本の女の変化である。そのことについては、いずれ機会を改めて、その後の変化を詳信するつもりだが、ボクの提唱するコスチューム責めが成功するのも、この浜江のような淑やかな令嬢によってこそ証明される。「どうされるの？　でも、されるだけの事はされるんでしょう」と不貞腐れる浜江等とは格段の差であるということを申し上げておく。

（未完）

Draft Translation

My Method of Tormenting
(The Heiress Hamae Episode)

On a New Year’s afternoon, Hamae came to call in formal dress. She was the daughter of a stern, upright university professor, and her stated purpose was the conventional one: New Year’s greetings in return for our usual friendship, together with a gift.

“Come in, come in. Everyone is off today and there’s nobody here. Since it’s New Year’s, I’ve been sitting here alone, half-asleep, keeping company with the kotatsu. Come on, it’s terribly cold. Don’t be so stiff. Nobody is here, and I can’t offer you much in the way of hospitality, but this is just right. Tell your father I gave you a lesson in how to be an attentive wife. Ha, ha. Come quickly.”

My chatter gave her no room to answer. She began the stiff old formula, “Thank you for all your kindness during the past year,” in some Ogasawara-school manner of etiquette.

“But…”
“No buts. You’re acting strangely today. Were you supposed to meet someone?”
“I wasn’t…”
“Put your knees under here. It’s warm.”
“Well then, excuse me.”

She came toward the kotatsu with graceful handling of her kimono hem, white tabi sliding forward. She removed her patterned coat, folded it with elegant, pale hands, set it in a corner, aligned her sandals, straightened her collar, and edged closer.

“It really is cold.”

When she looked up, her eyes were beautiful. Their upturned corners flashed and shot a smile straight into me.

“Put your hands in.”

I lifted the quilt over the wooden kotatsu frame.

“Thank you.”

She obediently placed both hands beneath it.

“That hairstyle is lovely. Is it wa-shimada? Yuiwata?”
“They told me it was some kind of shimada…”
“What kind? Ha, ha.”
“You’re embarrassing me.”
“Women are difficult creatures. I can’t compare your appearance with professional dance or the arts, but for an amateur girl you are extraordinarily beautiful. Even modern fashion, which one would not expect in formal New Year’s dress, suits you. Red suits you, elegance suits you, beauty suits you. It seems I have been defeated by my own flattering line.”

“Someone might come, so may I lock the entrance?”
“Yes, but I should not stay and inconvenience you…”
“It is rare for me to be alone like this. Don’t say that. Stay.”

I rose and secured the sliding doors, veranda, corridor, entryway, partitions, and lattice door. When I came back she kept her face lowered. She was already traveling down the road of desire.

“Ah, it’s cold.”

As she put her hands farther beneath the quilt, I seized the opportunity. Leaning across the kotatsu, I slid my hands along her fingers and suddenly clasped the backs of both her hands. Before she could cry out, I said, “How warm they are. What soft hands.”

I began caressing the backs of her hands, her wrists, and the lower parts of her arms. She said nothing.

“If you ate me, I would consider it an honor.”
“Your legs must be going numb. Relax your knees.”
“I’m embarrassed…”

She did not attempt to pull away. Instead she twisted her waist restlessly.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

Her formal New Year’s clothing suited her perfectly. She appeared pleased, yet also aware of the intention beneath my words. When she adjusted her sash and clothing, I moved behind her and took her wrists.

“You’re holding too hard.”

Her body reacted faster than her protest. She arched her chest upward and let herself sink across the kotatsu quilt. I used the position of her clothing and sash to explore her body. She never clearly refused. Her only replies were small movements and breath.

I caught each word she spoke and used it to press the attack.

“Really…”

One white-tabi-covered foot lay before me, spotless proof that she had come directly from her home to mine. The fact that only a portion of her ankle was visible made it more provocative. The wrist I held was so soft that it seemed to merge with my hand.

“What are you going to do?”
“You’re so beautiful that I’m wondering what to do while staring at you.”

She gave no response and offered no resistance. I sat squarely in front of her.

“Shall I feast on this white fish?”

The phrase escaped me. I pressed my face to the back of her hand, moved across all ten fingers, and rubbed them with my lips.

“Oh…”

She shook her upper body in a merely formal resistance. Ignoring it, I began working with my tongue. Although I released her wrist, I grasped her upper arms and elbows one after the other, twisting them firmly and preventing her from breaking the behind-the-back position. Handling wrists in that position was one of my practiced techniques.

“Oh, that tickles. Please have mercy.”

Her shoulders trembled as she spoke. I secured one wrist again and used my free hand to reach beneath her hem and undo the fasteners of the pure white tabi.

“Then perhaps I’ll feast on this other white fish.”

I pressed her down across the kotatsu frame and pinned her above and below.

“Please forgive me.”

Her body, writhing from shame, gradually slipped sideways like a vehicle beginning to move. She slid from the edge of the kotatsu and fell onto the tatami with the quilt. I transferred both wrists behind her back and removed the other tabi, leaving both feet bare.

“Please…”

I held her face-down and waited for her to take a breath. The moment she did, my handkerchief wound around her wrists. I tied it so lightly that she did not realize what had happened until my hands released her. Then I took one ankle, lifted the foot slightly into the air, and kissed the base of her little toe.

“Aah!”

It was a charming scream. Only then did she seem to notice that her hands had been tied, and she began struggling.

“Let me go! I-san, let me go…”

Of course I did not release those innocent shell-like bare feet. My lips and tongue continued from the top of her foot to the arch, and from there across all five toes. It was less a kiss than a tasting.

“Ah! Please!”

She gave one breathy cry. Her struggles disordered her clothes and exposed her knees. I put more strength into holding her half face-down, rubbing her cheek against the tatami.

“Your face will get dirty.”

“Even so, please let me go!”

As I took her toes into my mouth and licked them, she twisted silently. Something like tears appeared. I could not tell whether they came from discomfort, shame, or emotional excitement.

“Are you crying?”

She did not answer. She kept her eyes closed and breathed more heavily.

Her bare feet were as clean as snow. It was obvious that she had bathed before coming. I moved in a deliberate sequence over the soles, the pearl-like undersides of her toes, the roots of the toes, and the arches, then drew back to examine the whole figure of this young heiress.

Perhaps because it tickled, she spread her toes like a butterfly opening its wings. She seemed almost to accept the treatment without resistance. I began using my tongue on the tops of her feet.

“Ah! It tickles. Please stop.”

She could no longer laugh. The free leg kicked in a manner hardly befitting a sheltered young lady. Her hem became completely disordered, fluttering like cloth in an autumn wind. She drew a deep breath.

“Does it hurt?”

She shook her head slightly. As though hiding her embarrassment, she buried her face against my chest, with several strands of hair coming loose.

Hamae’s kiss was pure and sweet. If one had to compare the taste, it was not wasanbon sugar, nor rock sugar. Perhaps ordinary granulated sugar. Better still, freshly pounded rice cake dusted with granulated sugar.

“Was it good?”

She still would not open her eyes.

“Was that your first kiss?”

A small nod.

“And the first time you were tied?”

Another small nod.

“Why do you suppose you let yourself be tied?”

“For complete conquest, perhaps.”

“Yes… I like that.”

After another long kiss, I looked down. Her knees were fully exposed. I turned her onto her back on the tatami. While continuing to kiss her, I further disordered her kimono and exposed her body from the waist toward the thighs. Nothing remained between us but the scent of her body. As a virgin raised as a proper young lady, she could no longer preserve her composure. Her thighs and the hidden center beyond them seemed flushed red with shame. Her first experience was written plainly in her body.

From this point, any further description would only repeat the same kind of strokes. It would become merely an Utamaro-style picture. What can be trusted is the sight of her afterward: her kimono as disordered as it could possibly be, and her hands and feet tied while she lay displayed before me.

I drank one cup of New Year’s toso and lit a Peace cigarette. How had she tasted? Surprisingly ordinary, perhaps. Yet her maidenly docility had been ample. There was nothing literary about it. Still, she had the unrivaled beauty of a peony beaten by rain.

I removed her obijime, loosened the handkerchief around her wrists, and used the openings of her kimono sleeves and the sash cord to arrange her arms more formally behind her. A full takate-kote was impossible with an otaiko obi, but I used her flexibility to lay both hands in a horizontal line across her lower back, lifting them behind her until her chest arched.

Then I looked at the pale swell of her exposed buttocks, moved my gaze down to her ankles and the tightened waist cord, and felt compelled to turn her face-up. Of course I did so.

She had kept her eyes closed. Her face had gone pale, yet the redness around her lips had spread down toward her chin and chest, telling of my roughness. Her chest rose with rapid breathing. Her legs were slightly raised, the ankles narrow, the toenails shining pink, her clothing scattered like colored papers from the Tanabata festival.

I sat formally before this sight.

“Miss Hamae…”

At the solemn address she started and opened her narrow eyes.

“Yes?”

She looked at the ceiling, then turned slightly as though searching for me. When her eyes met mine, she remained half downcast, yet opened her small pink lips.

“I have lost… What are you going to do with me?”
“I want you to agree to several things.”
“What sort of promises?”
“Naturally, promises about the future.”
“All right. Help me. I have lost. Don’t abandon me like this. Please.”
“That depends on you.”
“If you will love me…”
“This is how I love.”
“I want your heart.”

Tears filled her eyes as she stared upward. She continued as though delirious.

“If it would let me hold your heart, I would do anything. Things other women could not do. Any way of being tormented…”
“What things?”
“I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever been done to me.”
“Then imagine something.”
She seemed hypnotized.
“I don’t know, but… something like what you are doing now.”

Her tearful voice began to break.

“Something much worse.”
“Worse?”
“Think about it.”
“I would not care even if I were killed…”
“Don’t say such things.”
“But I have been stripped naked…”

“Is that only talk? If you cannot say it, are you lying?”
“No. I will do it.”
“And then…?”

A damaged portion of the printed page obscures several lines. The sense is that she promises submission even to harsher treatment, then breaks into full crying from shame and fear.

“Please, no more…”

She began to cry outright.

“Stop crying, and I will forgive you.”

She bit her lip and tried to hold back the tears. After a time I loosened and removed the bindings.

When I looked at her tied feet, they were still those pure, snow-white feet. Yet she made no immediate effort to close her kimono. Instead she placed both hands against my chest and pressed her head and cheek close to me, taking refuge in a sweet, innocent embrace while calming herself.

Her coiffure was badly disordered. I kissed her now with affection. For me it was an ordinary kiss, but still better than no kiss. Even while kissing her, my eyes traveled from the exposed curve of her buttocks to her slim ankles, knees, and toes digging into the tatami.

“Shall I untie your feet too?”
“Oh, I had forgotten they were tied. My…”

She raised her face, saw the exposure of her lower body, hurriedly pulled her hem over her knees with one hand, and cried, “Please forgive me.”

I easily untied the knot and helped her sit up.

“Thank you.”

She remained completely innocent and charming. Looking at my face and mouth, she suddenly laughed.

“Oh…”

She quickly drew a handkerchief from her sleeve.

“Please forgive my rudeness.”

Leaning against me, she wiped around my lips.

“Thank you.”

With her chest pressed close as she wiped me, I no longer had the heart to proceed immediately to another cruelty.

“You really are an heiress.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Then Hamae-chan.”

She shot me a sidelong glance, pulled her hem together, sat upright, took a compact from her sleeve, and looked into it.

“My… You really are a terrible man.”

Half looking into the compact and half looking at me, the narrow sidelong glance was enough to defeat me.

Then she glanced down and saw my wrinkled handkerchief near my knee. Her face flushed again. She snatched it and hid it against her lap, then, only now, pressed her knees together.

“What am I going to do? Please forgive me.”

She suddenly behaved like an older, composed woman.

“Just a moment.”

She began applying powder rapidly.

“Payment for making me wait. If you move, I’ll tie you again.”

I took the initiative and imposed the command.

“Stop it, you dirty old man.”

Yet she calmly continued her makeup with her knees and thighs still exposed.

“I’m not doing anything. You said you would tie me again.”
“Do you dislike being tied?”
“Well… It is a strange taste.”

“Then I won’t tie you anymore.”
“Why not?”

She stopped applying makeup and stared at me.

“I don’t mind. I like someone who does exactly what he wants. I’m mischievous too. It is all right that there is someone who ties me and disciplines me. Even so…”

She had become familiar enough to poke my knee. I teased her exposed body.

“Thank you. Hamae-chan has finally defeated me.”
“That’s a lie. I am the one who lost.”

She adjusted the mirror and continued repairing her makeup.

“My head is hopeless. I never thought I would end up like this.”

It sounded full of implication.

“I wonder whether it will hold until I get home. How embarrassing. Wait a moment. Can I fix it?”

She began readjusting her kimono in every direction.

At last she restored a presentable appearance.

“Forgive the poor result.”

Her language had changed completely into intimate familiarity. Without needing to say anything, she nestled beside me and slid her knees and hands under the kotatsu. I intertwined my hand with hers beneath the quilt and gently rubbed it.

While I went to unlock the entrance, she slipped away toward the dressing room. Such is the trouble with women. Those white fish-like hands and feet made one want another taste.

She finally placed all ten fingers neatly together and gave a reluctant farewell that again displayed her upbringing. She plainly did not want to leave, but I sent her home lest I become the proverbial wolf escorting a woman. The importance of ending an encounter cleanly has already been proved by our predecessors.

Among maidens, town girls, and schoolgirls, Hamae was the only genuine heiress I had treated in this manner. I wished to preserve at least one day’s picture and episode as an example of torment possessing refinement and dignity.

Eventually this heiress Hamae came to linger around me like the incarnation of a masochist. It was the same kind of transformation as in Matsumoto’s case: a thoroughly serious woman changing under experience. I intend to report that later development on another occasion. For now, I will only say that the success of the “costume torment” I advocate is best proved by a graceful heiress such as Hamae. She is entirely different from a sullen woman who asks, “What are you going to do? Whatever it is, you’ll do it anyway.”

(To be continued.)

Publication Translation

Optional. When this is blank, Publish Translation publishes the current draft. When present, this corrected version is published instead.

My Method of Tormenting
(The Heiress Hamae Episode)

My chatter gave her no room to answer. She began the stiff old formula, “Thank you for all your kindness during the past year,” in some Ogasawara-school manner of etiquette.

“But…”
“No buts. You’re acting strangely today. Were you supposed to meet someone?”
“I wasn’t…”
“Put your knees under here. It’s warm.”
“Well then, excuse me.”

“It really is cold.”

When she looked up, her eyes were beautiful. Their upturned corners flashed and shot a smile straight into me.

“Put your hands in.”

I lifted the quilt over the wooden kotatsu frame.

“Thank you.”

She obediently placed both hands beneath it.

“Someone might come, so may I lock the entrance?”
“Yes, but I should not stay and inconvenience you…”
“It is rare for me to be alone like this. Don’t say that. Stay.”

I rose and secured the sliding doors, veranda, corridor, entryway, partitions, and lattice door. When I came back she kept her face lowered. She was already traveling down the road of desire.

“Ah, it’s cold.”

I began caressing the backs of her hands, her wrists, and the lower parts of her arms. She said nothing.

“If you ate me, I would consider it an honor.”
“Your legs must be going numb. Relax your knees.”
“I’m embarrassed…”

She did not attempt to pull away. Instead she twisted her waist restlessly.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“You’re holding too hard.”

I caught each word she spoke and used it to press the attack.

“Really…”

“What are you going to do?”
“You’re so beautiful that I’m wondering what to do while staring at you.”

She gave no response and offered no resistance. I sat squarely in front of her.

“Shall I feast on this white fish?”

The phrase escaped me. I pressed my face to the back of her hand, moved across all ten fingers, and rubbed them with my lips.

“Oh…”

“Oh, that tickles. Please have mercy.”

Her shoulders trembled as she spoke. I secured one wrist again and used my free hand to reach beneath her hem and undo the fasteners of the pure white tabi.

“Then perhaps I’ll feast on this other white fish.”

I pressed her down across the kotatsu frame and pinned her above and below.

“Please forgive me.”

“Please…”

“Aah!”

It was a charming scream. Only then did she seem to notice that her hands had been tied, and she began struggling.

“Let me go! I-san, let me go…”

“Ah! Please!”

She gave one breathy cry. Her struggles disordered her clothes and exposed her knees. I put more strength into holding her half face-down, rubbing her cheek against the tatami.

“Your face will get dirty.”

“Even so, please let me go!”

As I took her toes into my mouth and licked them, she twisted silently. Something like tears appeared. I could not tell whether they came from discomfort, shame, or emotional excitement.

“Are you crying?”

She did not answer. She kept her eyes closed and breathed more heavily.

Perhaps because it tickled, she spread her toes like a butterfly opening its wings. She seemed almost to accept the treatment without resistance. I began using my tongue on the tops of her feet.

“Ah! It tickles. Please stop.”

“Does it hurt?”

She shook her head slightly. As though hiding her embarrassment, she buried her face against my chest, with several strands of hair coming loose.

“Was it good?”

She still would not open her eyes.

“Was that your first kiss?”

A small nod.

“And the first time you were tied?”

Another small nod.

“Why do you suppose you let yourself be tied?”

“For complete conquest, perhaps.”

“Yes… I like that.”

Then I looked at the pale swell of her exposed buttocks, moved my gaze down to her ankles and the tightened waist cord, and felt compelled to turn her face-up. Of course I did so.

I sat formally before this sight.

“Miss Hamae…”

At the solemn address she started and opened her narrow eyes.

“Yes?”

She looked at the ceiling, then turned slightly as though searching for me. When her eyes met mine, she remained half downcast, yet opened her small pink lips.

Tears filled her eyes as she stared upward. She continued as though delirious.

Her tearful voice began to break.

“Something much worse.”
“Worse?”
“Think about it.”
“I would not care even if I were killed…”
“Don’t say such things.”
“But I have been stripped naked…”

“Is that only talk? If you cannot say it, are you lying?”
“No. I will do it.”
“And then…?”

A damaged portion of the printed page obscures several lines. The sense is that she promises submission even to harsher treatment, then breaks into full crying from shame and fear.

“Please, no more…”

She began to cry outright.

“Stop crying, and I will forgive you.”

She bit her lip and tried to hold back the tears. After a time I loosened and removed the bindings.

“Shall I untie your feet too?”
“Oh, I had forgotten they were tied. My…”

She raised her face, saw the exposure of her lower body, hurriedly pulled her hem over her knees with one hand, and cried, “Please forgive me.”

I easily untied the knot and helped her sit up.

“Thank you.”

She remained completely innocent and charming. Looking at my face and mouth, she suddenly laughed.

“Oh…”

She quickly drew a handkerchief from her sleeve.

“Please forgive my rudeness.”

Leaning against me, she wiped around my lips.

“Thank you.”

With her chest pressed close as she wiped me, I no longer had the heart to proceed immediately to another cruelty.

“You really are an heiress.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Then Hamae-chan.”

She shot me a sidelong glance, pulled her hem together, sat upright, took a compact from her sleeve, and looked into it.

“My… You really are a terrible man.”

Half looking into the compact and half looking at me, the narrow sidelong glance was enough to defeat me.

Then she glanced down and saw my wrinkled handkerchief near my knee. Her face flushed again. She snatched it and hid it against her lap, then, only now, pressed her knees together.

“What am I going to do? Please forgive me.”

She suddenly behaved like an older, composed woman.

“Just a moment.”

She began applying powder rapidly.

“Payment for making me wait. If you move, I’ll tie you again.”

I took the initiative and imposed the command.

“Stop it, you dirty old man.”

Yet she calmly continued her makeup with her knees and thighs still exposed.

“I’m not doing anything. You said you would tie me again.”
“Do you dislike being tied?”
“Well… It is a strange taste.”

“Then I won’t tie you anymore.”
“Why not?”

She stopped applying makeup and stared at me.

“I don’t mind. I like someone who does exactly what he wants. I’m mischievous too. It is all right that there is someone who ties me and disciplines me. Even so…”

She had become familiar enough to poke my knee. I teased her exposed body.

“Thank you. Hamae-chan has finally defeated me.”
“That’s a lie. I am the one who lost.”

She adjusted the mirror and continued repairing her makeup.

“My head is hopeless. I never thought I would end up like this.”

It sounded full of implication.

“I wonder whether it will hold until I get home. How embarrassing. Wait a moment. Can I fix it?”

She began readjusting her kimono in every direction.

At last she restored a presentable appearance.

“Forgive the poor result.”

While I went to unlock the entrance, she slipped away toward the dressing room. Such is the trouble with women. Those white fish-like hands and feet made one want another taste.

(To be continued.)

Article Summary

Translation Notes

The printed Japanese title is ボクの責め方（令嬢浜江の巻）, literally “My Method of Tormenting (The Heiress Hamae Episode).” This does not match the supplied English title “How I Was Tormented,” which reverses the direction of the action. The translation therefore follows the Japanese text while retaining the supplied project metadata in the author field.

The author credit printed on PDF page 105 appears as 宝塚二三夫. The supplied romanization “Hōzuka Mitsuo” has been retained, but the exact reading of 二三夫 is uncertain and may instead be Fumio or another reading.

The narrator uses 責め in the period SM sense of erotic torment, discipline, or sexualized treatment. I translate it contextually as “torment,” “treatment,” or “attack.” 折檻 is rendered as “discipline.” 高手小手 refers to a formal arms-behind restraint; the text notes that a full form is difficult over an otaiko obi.

白魚, literally “icefish,” is a conventional comparison for pale, slender hands or feet. The narrator repeatedly turns that metaphor into a culinary joke by speaking of “feasting” or “tasting.”

The narrator’s reference to 歌麿調 describes the scene as resembling the erotic pictorial manner associated with Kitagawa Utamaro. 三盆白 means wasanbon, a refined traditional sugar. ピース is the Peace cigarette brand. 屠蘇 is spiced New Year’s sake.

The article is written as a boastful, comic first-person anecdote and presents non-consensual or ambiguously consensual conduct as titillation. The translation preserves that historical voice but does not endorse it.

Several passages on PDF pages 107, 109, and especially 112 are damaged, heavily stained, or poorly reproduced. Bracketed notices in original_text mark places where complete transcription was not possible. The surrounding narrative has been translated only where the visible text supports it. Source:

Uncertain readings:
- The author name 宝塚二三夫 is printed clearly enough to identify the characters, but the supplied reading Hōzuka Mitsuo may not be the only possible reading of 二三夫.
- PDF page 105: the material description of Hamae’s coat includes a blurred word after 格子模様の; the transcription marks it as uncertain.
- PDF page 107: several central lines are obscured by severe reproduction noise and could not be reconstructed reliably.
- PDF page 109: the lower central portion around the illustration is heavily degraded; only the surrounding action and dialogue are secure.
- PDF page 110: some descriptive phrases concerning exposed clothing and anatomy are blurred; the translation preserves only the clearly supported sequence.
- PDF page 112: a substantial middle section is unreadable because of dark print damage and broken characters. The translation summarizes only the visible continuity and does not invent exact dialogue.
- PDF page 114: one phrase describing the body part the narrator touches after Hamae relaxes is blurred; it may refer to the hip, thigh, or buttock.

Missing or illegible text:
- PDF page 107: multiple lines in the middle columns are illegible.
- PDF page 109: several lines surrounding and beneath the illustration are illegible.
- PDF page 112: most of the middle portion of the page is illegible, including parts of the escalating dialogue and the exact description of releasing the bindings.
- A few isolated words on PDFs 105–114 remain uncertain because the scan is low-contrast and vertically set in pre-reform orthography.

Research Notes

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Status: Published

Published: July 31, 2026 at 10:58 PM by Zetsu

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