The Woman Who Awakened My Sadistic Nature

The Woman Who Awakened My Sadistic Nature By Shima Shikō One of my former playmates, a woman named Chizuko, had the following sort of “past” before she met me. She was the eldest of three sisters, and because her family operated a small, inexpensive restaurant, she did not need to worry about finding employment after graduating from high school as her classmates did. They would tease her jokingly: “You’re lucky, Chizuko. You don’t have to worry about employment examinations or search for a job. All you need now is to find an opening for permanent employment,” by which they meant a husband. An expressway was being constructed in front of the family restaurant, Maruya. From lunchtime through the evening, laborers working on the project passed continually through its doorway in rotating groups. This was not a road-repair job that would finish in three days or a week. The excavation, pouring of concrete, steel frameworks for the pilings, and other stages meant that the ordinary workers changed as their portions of the job were completed, but the site managers, supervisors, and senior men remained there for a long time. Construction had become mechanized and modern methods had made the work easier than in the past, but it was still physical labor. The workers’ camp and lodgings provided little more than a place to sleep. Men with wives and children and men without them were equally bachelors there. Many relied on commercial women working at Turkish baths and similar establishments for sexual release. They dispersed their accumulated frustrations with alcohol and obscene conversation. The women who appeared in their stories were women they had known in the past, or actresses with whom they wished they could have sex. They understood that actually having an actress was nearly impossible and did not seriously imagine it could happen, but there was no harm in entertaining such desires. Chizuko, who helped at Maruya, did not particularly resemble any actress. Her smile was attractive, however, and despite her small frame she had long, glossy hair and healthily developed breasts and hips that made the men conscious of her as a woman. Some workers came to the restaurant repeatedly in hopes of finding an opportunity to talk to her. Site managers sometimes deliberately ordered expensive dishes in hopes of attracting her attention. Among them was a supervisor named Iizuka. He had noticed Chizuko’s youth and her well-developed body. He behaved grandly, saying, “I’m the man responsible for directing the laborers. I’m not an ordinary worker.” Whenever he appeared at the restaurant, he would call out things such as, “Kondō, how far has your section progressed?” or, “Yoshida, what has happened to your work lately? If you aren’t serious, I’ll replace you.” He raised his voice to impress Chizuko and made suggestive eyes at her. Iizuka was about forty and reportedly carried himself as befitted the man in charge of the laborers. He could not openly molest her inside the restaurant, however, so he apparently watched for any opportunity. One Sunday evening, when Maruya was closed, Chizuko was returning from a classmate’s house when she happened to encounter Iizuka in his car. “Isn’t that Chizu-chan? Where are you going? If you’re headed home, I’ll give you a ride.” Smiling pleasantly, Iizuka got out of the car, placed his hand on her shoulder in a half-coercive manner, and put her into the passenger seat. For an instant, Chizuko apparently sensed, “I must not get in. He may do something to me.” Yet when she tried to open the door and get out, her body would not follow her intention. While she hesitated, Iizuka sat in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove away. Naturally she was frightened. Yet she reasoned with herself: “It would be even more frightening to behave strangely and anger Iizuka. Perhaps he really is only going to take me home.” She could do nothing but remain in the passenger seat. Whether or not he recognized her fear, Iizuka drove silently for a time through the city as dusk approached. Then he said: “The men in the labor camp are rough, but they’re good at heart. People outside look at us as though we belong to a criminal gang. It makes me furious. When people are looked at that way, we naturally protect and help one another more than ordinary people do. We’re like brothers. In yakuza terms, it’s the same as exchanging cups and becoming sworn brothers. Do you understand, Chizu-chan?” Chizuko avoided looking at him and stared through the windshield, praying to reach home as soon as possible. She had no composure to observe where the car was traveling or even to think about its destination. She could only grip the handle of her handbag with both hands. Eventually he turned, made another turn, entered a building, and stopped with a loud squeal of the brakes. “You’ll do exactly as I tell you,” Iizuka ordered in a threatening voice. That brought her momentarily back to her senses, but he held her arm, pulled her from the car, took her in an elevator, and brought her into a room. In the dim red light she could see a futon with two pillows farther inside, and sleeping robes had been set out. The bedroom walls were apparently covered with mirrors. After locking the door, Iizuka suddenly slapped Chizuko across the face. He pulled the zipper down the back of her dress in one motion, stripped her to her chemise, and then removed the chemise and brassiere together. When she reflexively covered her breasts with both hands, he seemed to have anticipated the movement. With her lower body left undefended, he swiftly pulled down her panties. His movements were so practiced that they gave her no chance to resist. Facing the trembling woman as she tried to cover her breasts and sex, he said: “Hey, look at me. What do you think of my body? I can still compete with younger men.” He discarded his clothing, displayed his naked body, forced Chizuko down on the futon, and attacked her. Iizuka weighed close to eighty kilograms. When Chizuko tried desperately to resist under his weight, he struck her again. The moment she heard him say, “Do you want to die?” she gave up all resistance and could do nothing but be handled according to his desire. I met Chizuko, the woman with this past, through a friend. After high school she had helped run her parents’ restaurant. Inevitably, the number of friends she saw had diminished. She had reached an age when she wanted a lover, but unlike a woman working for a company, she had no coworkers, and the restaurant’s customers included no man she considered suitable. Neither the friend who introduced us nor Chizuko had any way of knowing that I possessed sadistic tendencies. After several dates, my intuitive impression that she was “a woman who would submit to my will” grew stronger. Still unaware of the experience described above, I played mood music in my room, made my approach, and gradually drew her into my pace. Some may say that a true sadist would act forcefully, as Iizuka had when he assaulted her. That approach could easily become rape, however. I believed that a woman should be trained progressively if she was to become the kind of masochistic woman I desired, so I approached Chizuko in an orthodox fashion. I began with kissing and moved toward petting. Then she said, “Please, wait a moment,” and disclosed the past I have just described. When she finished, she wept and repeatedly said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Looking at her, I said: “I understand. I understand your past. But you must realize that it cannot simply be forgiven. For the next year, you will obey everything I say. If you can do that, I will forgive your past. Can you do it for one year?” Chizuko answered, “Yes.” “Good. Beginning today, beginning now, you will be my slave. You will obey everything I say. You will not defy me. Your first duty is to obey even the most unreasonable order.” In this manner, I succeeded in bringing her into submission. I then gave her three rules: “First, whenever you meet me, all your clothing must open in front. Second, you must not wear panties. Third, whenever you and I are alone together, you must not wear any clothing at all.” I made her swear to observe these three rules. I removed all her clothes and caressed her thoroughly. Then, as evidence that she had become my slave, I took out a camera, photographed her completely naked, made her assume various poses, and recorded every part of her body, including her genitals. Chizuko was so obedient that I wondered whether anyone could become that submissive. I kept her naked until she was ready to leave my room. Then I said, “Perhaps I’ll let you wear something like panties,” and brought out my favorite cotton rope. I made her stand with her legs spread. First I passed the rope around her abdomen. From her navel I ran it vertically down over her pubic hair, pressed it against her sex so that it passed through the center, carried it over her anus and up her back, and returned it above her navel. I then wrapped it around her abdomen, passed it under the vertical rope running over her buttocks so as to tighten it, and next carried it horizontally around her hip bones. In other words, there was one rope around her abdomen and another crossing the center of her sex. This not only secured the vertical rope but tightened the entire lower abdomen and strengthened the impression that she was wearing panties made of rope. Passing rope around the roots of both thighs made the effect even more pronounced. I made her walk around the room in this condition and spread her legs, satisfying myself visually and doing exactly as I pleased. Yet I decided that leaving her arms and breasts untouched did not constitute training, so I removed the rope panties and began binding her again. In most cases, becoming naked for intercourse is a natural progression and produces relatively little embarrassment. Being stripped for another purpose, tied with rope, forced to spread one’s legs, and made to expose the genitals should be extremely difficult for a woman to endure. Nevertheless, Chizuko offered little resistance as she displayed herself at my command and was tied obediently. Something about her attitude did not make sense to me. Nor had a great deal of time passed since she had been forcibly deprived of her virginity. Could she truly have become this compliant? Even though this was supposedly her first experience of being tied, she showed no obvious aversion to the rope panties, which included a crotch rope. To my eyes, her posture almost suggested that she had accumulated experience and become accustomed to such situations. It was only an intuition that came to me during the short interval in which I removed the rope panties and prepared to bind her again, but at the same moment I thought: “She must have had some other experience. She must be concealing something.” Once I reached that conclusion, I saw no reason to moderate the binding or to familiarize her with rope gradually while avoiding strong stimulation. I crossed her wrists behind her back and bound them. I wrapped rope upward to her elbows and drew them together. This alone pulled her elbows backward and stretched her two breasts outward, displaying them prominently. Next I ran two ropes from her elbows along either side of her neck. I brought them forward under tension, divided them beneath the breasts, passed them over her back and elbows, and again beneath her breasts. I then carried them over her back, this time passing them above her breasts, around her back again, and once more across their upper sides. There I crossed the two ropes and tightened both the ropes below and those above the breasts. The breasts changed shape and bulged outward. Her nipples hardened, and small projections appeared around them. I brought out another rope and ordered, “Squat as though you were using the toilet.” As she unsteadily tried to lower herself, I forced her down, saying, “Hurry up.” I bound her legs separately in the squatting position, ran the rope around her neck, brought it to the front, and connected it to the ropes binding her breasts. This belongs among the extremely severe forms of binding. Her arms were tied behind her from wrists to elbows, forcing her chest to arch backward. Her legs were folded at the knees, making her upper body want to bend forward. It was therefore less simple bondage than torment administered through bondage. Her genitals could not be concealed, and in this exposed condition she was unable to refuse whatever might be done to her. After binding her in this posture, I suddenly attacked her genitals. “Aah! Unh!” Chizuko bit her lip. While tormenting her I questioned her fiercely: “Tell me the truth. Iizuka cannot be the only man who has known your body. There must have been someone else. Tell me. Say it!” When she moved to escape, the ropes bit into her. I continued this torment for ten minutes and then twenty. Anyone who could withstand twenty minutes of it was enduring a great deal. Chizuko still refused to speak. After confirming that she had become wet, I began the real torment and used my free hands on her breasts and nipples. I seized and lifted her breasts with all my strength. Each time I twisted her nipples in opposite directions and pulled them, I could feel the muscles of her sex tighten and grip strongly. I did not myself understand why I felt as I did or why I questioned her, but because the impression had come to me intuitively, I believed it could not be mistaken. The resulting torment must have been severe for Chizuko. I have heard it said that hatred and love stand back to back, and I believe it is true. The sight of Chizuko increasingly irritated me. My irritation only intensified my determination to force her to confess whatever part of her past she still concealed. Turned onto her back while still bound, Chizuko could do nothing but expose everything. Her face had become red, while the wrists tied behind her had lost all color. Even then I did not release the ropes. She had confessed one part of her past but refused to reveal the rest. Because I had truly fallen in love with her, I could not forgive that refusal. My feelings gradually became cruel. I do not know the proper name of the object I brought out. It was shaped like a clothespin and was used temporarily to connect cords on radios or amplifiers. The handles came in black and red, and the gripping surfaces were jagged like a shark’s teeth. I held it in front of Chizuko, repeatedly opening and closing it where she could see, and said: “This will hurt when it clamps you. Tell me everything honestly and I won’t use it. Refuse to speak and I’ll clamp it onto your breast. What will you do? Tell me the truth!” Chizuko looked as though she wanted to speak but believed she should not. Her lips moved, but no voice emerged. Her expression aroused my pity. Yet the thought, “I love you, and because I love you I want you to tell me everything. Lies and secrets are unacceptable,” overcame that pity, and I proceeded. Even when I tested the clamp on my finger, its sharpened teeth dug deeply into the pad. If left there for thirty seconds, it produced something far beyond an ordinary ache. It felt as though the teeth ate through the skin and penetrated to the bone. On a soft nipple, it seemed that careless use might even sever the flesh. I held the handles and showed her the teeth. The moment I placed them around her nipple, Chizuko closed her eyes. The movement with which she had tried to escape the pain of the rope also stopped, although her circulation had been restricted by the long binding. Her expression said she had resigned herself. Although I found something uncanny in it, I applied the clamp. I kept pressure on the handles so that the spring was not yet exerting its full force, but I allowed the pointed teeth to bite visibly into the flesh around the nipple. The pain must already have been intense. As I gradually relaxed my fingers and allowed more of the spring’s force to act, Chizuko clenched her teeth and began to emit a drawn-out, “Tsssss.” Once the jagged teeth bit into her nipple, she could no longer endure it. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. Please take it off. Quickly, quickly!” she said, twisting her body. “Then speak. I want to make you completely mine. I want every corner of your body, your entire past, and your whole heart to belong to me alone. That is why I am asking. I do not do this because I hate you. It is precisely because you are dear to me that I go this far.” After hearing this, Chizuko said: “The truth is that I have been seeing one of my former classmates. I don’t particularly love him, but he pursued me so actively that I could not continue refusing him, and then… But I won’t see him anymore. Truly, I won’t.” “How far has it gone? Does he know all of you? Tell me.” “How many times did you do it? Where?” “How many?” “Not very many. Truly.” “I asked how many times.” “Three.” “That’s a lie. It must have been more. Speak clearly and honestly.” “It truly was three times. I am not lying.” “Very well. I will believe you. From this moment on, you are forbidden to see any man other than me. Do you understand?” “…Yes.” “Why did you tell me about Iizuka but conceal this?” “I was afraid that if I told you that much, you would hate me. I’m sorry.” I learned much later what had been going through her mind when she first became sexually involved with me. She confessed: “I was terrified that you would discover I had already known a man, that you would dislike me for not being a virgin, and that you would leave me. Although what Iizuka did was unexpected, I thought I might still be forgiven if I made it seem that he was the one who had taken my virginity.” It was only long afterward that I understood what I regarded as a woman’s feelings and calculations. Returning to the events of that night, I told Chizuko: “You lied to me, and that cannot be forgiven. As punishment, you will live as my slave until I say that it is enough. Do you understand?” “…Yes.” Only then did I untie her and release her from the torment. Afterward, Chizuko truly did everything I commanded. I made her spend an entire day wearing rope panties. I made her wear beneath her blouse a brassiere that supported only the circumference of her breasts, then walk through the city. Today, transparent clothing and going without a brassiere are fashionable and not uncommon sights, but at that time one almost never saw such things. Many people in the street reacted with comments such as, “Look at that,” “Well, well,” and, “You can see through it.” Chizuko obeyed even these commands exactly as I gave them, and for me she became a precious aidorei, a beloved slave. Chizuko was also the first woman whose pubic hair I shaved. I applied soap and used a safety razor, beginning with the surrounding hair and shaping the remainder into the heart found on playing cards. I thought I had made a beautiful heart, but after rinsing away the soap and allowing the hair to dry, it no longer looked recognizably heart-shaped. Chizuko herself advised me: “Rather than only shaving around it, wouldn’t it hold its shape better if you also shortened the remaining hair, so it cannot lie sideways or diagonally?” She had become such a devoted slave that she could give advice of this kind. She was correct. Once I trimmed the hair with scissors, the heart shape remained visible. She would look at it in a mirror and say, “Chizuko is Master’s slave.” Watching her behave exactly as I ordered was deeply satisfying. Yet, as the saying goes, trouble attends good fortune. When about half a month passed without our meeting, the former classmate appeared and demanded that she resume their relationship. She yielded to his persistence. They reconciled, and matters progressed as far as a formal betrothal. Even I was shocked. Nevertheless, the arrangement had already progressed so far that I withdrew rather than destroy it. It was a bitter experience, but when I remember the more than two years during which I knew Chizuko, they now seem to me an extraordinarily daring period of my life. Someday I hope to record additional incidents from the time of her training.