Oyasi: Cock Hungry and Deadly

The starting vaginal farts were awkward. Apparently, our pussy lubrication had created vacuums. I tried to pull away. I couldn't. Her pussy was like a plunger stuck to mine. Aiko told me to calm down and go with it. I tried to get away. Yet, her pussy only started sucking harder on mine. I could feel all the vaginal secretion of my inside being sucked into her. A very dry feeling was left inside of me.

"I told you I am the onsen oyasi. I feed on sexual nectar. You are my delicate flower. Tonight, I will fly from festival goer to festival goer and feast."

Those were the last words from Aiko before I lost consciousness.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital bed. I was under white bed sheets. I wore a hospital gown with a pattern of tiny blue flowers. All the oxygen pipes and cables for monitors were behind me. My finger had a pulse monitor attached to it. Round discs on my chest monitored my heart. Chokichi and Kaiko were at my bed side holding my hand. A nurse with an actual red cross on her headdress counted pills on a tablet.

"Tamiko, thank god, you are awake! We worried about you. A couple searching for a hidden hot spring pool found you a mile away from the concert. You were completely naked lying on rocks. Thank god, you are awake," said Chokichi.

"What happened?" asked Kaiko.

"I don't know. I was following that naked girl, the onsen oyasi. We went for a swim in a hot spring. I think there was some kissing. And, then I passed out," I replied.

"Oh, Tamiko-chan, you have to be very strong. You don't realize what has happened to you," sighted Kaiko.

"Is there something wrong with me? I can feel my hands and arms," I replied.

"Oh, Tamiko-chan, your face has aged. You look much older now," Kaiko said with a face torn by pain, as if she were near the breaking point.

With the help of a mirror, I could see my face. Rather than a 19 year old, my face looked 40 years old. The doctors had no explanation how someone could age within a day so much. After scratching their heads, they suggested that stress can do more than we think.

The rest of the day involved getting rolled around in a blue fake leather wheel chair. The middle butt cleft stuck to the plastic of the chair. The back of the almost knee long gown was open. Only a couple strings at the back could have held the hospital gown together. I couldn't reach them. And, most nurses and doctors were too lazy to close them. Submitting to semi-nakedness was one of the many ways that one gets mentally subjugated to follow orders and indignities without resistance.

The doctor with the white coat, the deep furrows of a sixty year old, and seriousness of a Japanese was preparing the screen for an ultrasound. I lay on a slightly inclined hospital table. The table was shortened to fit into the small room. So, the table only reached my knees. My calves were dangling off the table. My hands held onto the edge of the table.

The doctor raised the lower part of my gown unceremoniously to expose my belly. When he realized my naked sex, he paused and said "oh." While he looked at the nurse with the blue nitrile gloves, I blushed. I tried to ignore him. I tried to look at the shelves with the boxes of gloves, swabs, and towels. I felt the yellow light from the aged ceiling shine down on my nether regions.

After starring another two seconds at my vagina, the doctor pressed his lips together, "Ah, we should probably talk about menopause. You are getting to the age, where you will feel changes in your body." Then, he continued ignoring the exposure to put the ultrasound sensor against my belly. He smeared the cold lubricant across my belly.

After many ah's, exclamations and squints into the monitor, he explained that all my internal organs were at age 40. My entire body had aged twenty years in one night.

The hospital discharged me into the car of Chokichi and Kaiko. On the way home in the train, we had to discuss on how to continue my life. As odd and unexplained as it was, my body was forty years old, yet my life was still at the stage of a twenty year old. I had another year of college to finish.

The big question was should I start over at a new college. I would be able to pretend that I am forty years old and started college late. Or, should I chance to deal with the odd reactions of my current classmates. In the end, it seemed like better strategy to keep the familiarity of my current college. We hoped for the best that my classmates would support me.

Luckily, the first day back was a visit to a local museum. That way, I could deal with the odd reactions without having to pay attention to class. This would let me focus completely at getting comfortable.

Everyone was polite. They greeted me. Yet, they stood away from me. It was like being an adult had put a barrier on between us. They no longer shared silly secrets. Instead of Tamiko-chan, they called me Tamiko-san. What was I supposed to do? I stayed calm. The museum docent did most of the talking anyway.

After an hour of standing and making two steps to the next painting, the legs became very tired. The femur dug itself deeply into the hip socket. The museum was very nice with labels and bit walls to present the master pieces. The docent was very earnest about checking his little note cards to tell us every single fact. Yet, the mind simply got drowsy from standing. My eyes would zone out the docent and only run loops along the ornamental golden painting frames.

The next time that I shifted my weight onto the other leg, I bumped my butt into Daishiro. He had stood behind me. The neat school uniform of slack pants and a jacket was worn around the edges and had lost its sharp look. The top shirt button was undone in defiance.

For some reasons, my thoughts spewed images of perverts in the crowded rush hour subway pushing their loins against young girls' behinds. There was always the pretense of the crowded subway, yet the men knew what they were doing. They were frotteurs. Perhaps, those images shot across my mind, because I was so sleepy at the cross path between awake and dreaming.

That explains for what happened next. My mind was intrigued with what Daishiro's penis would feel like in my hands. I vaguely remembered that doing such a thing would be inappropriate. Yet, another thought question: "What really? What makes it inappropriate? I can see his penis in my mind's eye nestled in his panties. It is only inches away from my hands. So easy to reach..."

Out of an odd impulse, I reached my hands behind my back. I pretended that I was crossing my hands to rest them. After that movement, everything went on automatic. I lifted my hands. I felt his white shirt. The shirt opening guided my fingers down. The pant top with the belt was the hard membrane that I had to push through. My finger nails quickly poked the penis head. My fingers worked their way in the flat pressed space to wrap around the flaccid penis.

A soft male voice whispered, "Tamiko."

My fingers held fast around his penis to get the full impression of it into my hand, like a sponge pad takes the impression of a key before duplicating it. Then, my hands followed down to feel his balls. He was wearing loose shorts. There was a lot of space opening beneath. I pinched him beneath the penis head between my index and forefinger. Then, I pulled up his entire penis by the penis head before I started stroking him down.

It became an obsession to knead his penis in different ways. It was kind of like unrolling a paper clip and bending it in a million different ways before the tiny wires break from being bent too often. Only his penis didn't break. It was a small five inch penis, yet rock hard.

Everyone was quiet, except for the docent talking in a monotone voice. Everyone was in a haze as well. The museum guard was standing idly, yet far away. The teacher was focused on every word of the docent. My mind was obsessed with feeling Daishiro's cock inside of me. I felt myself wet. I felt the impulse foreign to me. A change that the lapse in the forest had brought.

What happened next was very easy, too easy. It was so easy, that there should have been a railing or some kind protection against it. I unzipped his pant. I lifted the back of my skirt. I pretended to be leaning against Daishiro. And, then I slipped his cock into my vagina. It went in so fast. Daishiro was eager to help. I was wet as I had never been wet before.

How to hump him without being noticed? I decided to pretend bouncing on my feet lightly as if being impatient or trying to stay away. The little bounces didn't give me the stimulation to have sex. Yet, the little bounces did warm me up. With every bounce, I became more heated and more reckless with my acting of innocent reasons to move my hips.

I bent forward to adjust my left shoe. Oh, this pushed my vagina fully over his penis. It felt so delicious. I stood up. I stooped over again for the right shoe and to feel the penis plunging into the depth of my belly again.

By this time, half of the class had noticed what we were up to. It wasn't just the paper thin acting. It was the intensity that we displayed on our faces. They looked on partly in disbelief and partly in excited exasperation. Too many students stood in front us for the teacher to see. Yet, the unexplained aliveness among the students started drawing the inquiring eyes of the teacher.

Obviously, my imagination for faking ordinary movements to get hip motion was exhausted. I was ramming and slamming Daishiro's cock full speed in and out of my slick pussy. My orgasm wasn't near exploding, when Daishiro shot spurts of semen inside of me five minutes after we started.

If my behavior was odd, my bodily response was even odder. I felt my uterus moving down to lick up the semen that was deep inside of me in a cavity between his dick and the end of my vaginal hole. The uterus dipped down rhythmically and sucked up semen. Daishiro tried to pull out, yet the suction was so strong that he couldn't.

Looking over my face, he looked red faced and frantic. He pulled with large force on his penis, yet my uterus was sucking so hard on his cock that he couldn't pull out. His body went limp. For a moment, his whole body dangled from his penis from my womb. Then, the uterus released him to succumb to the floor.

What happened next is only recorded in fragments of my memory. The first fragment is that of a paramedic. I was starring right at the emblem on his shoulder. I vividly remember the blue cross, the pentagon around it, and the letters of the hospital. Then, he called "clear." Paddles attached to Daishiro's chest shocked the whole body.

Daishiro's face was full of wrinkles. His hair in the center was gone, shiny bald. The rest of his hair was fully gray. His eyes were motionless. There was a white layer over his iris.

The next moment that I remember are the clicks of shiny, silver handcuffs and leg irons. The class was pushed into a side room and blocked by two police officers in large yellow coats with orange reflective beams. My legs had to walk in strange half circles because of the leg irons. I heard stern words like "extreme escape risk and dangerous" said about me.

From the point that I had decided to grab Daishiro's penis, everything had felt surreal, like life had ended or I was in a dream. I had given up exposing frames of ordinary life like politeness or thinking about homework.

Only two days later, did my consciousness click again to keep up with reality. I was sitting on a cold metal bench inside an armored car. The metal bench was only two feet high and two feet deep. The transport space was dark. Only high near the ceiling was a slotted opening for air to come in. The two officers were clad in especially polished and formal police clothes. Their hat was larger and more square than usual. The creases were sharper. There were medals on the police officers' vests.

I was in a gray prison uniform. My hands and feet were both cuffed. A metal chain connected my hand and ankle cuffs, so that I could not raise my hands. My hair had been combed by a prison warden, because a comb may have become a deadly weapon in my hands.

The knobs on the ground to avoid slipping were soothingly comforting. I could count three knobs vertically in the space of one horizontal knob. The knobs had four corners. They felt solid. All these little details helped me ground in the moment. They helped me get out of the head and to feel the sharp edge of the bench against my hamstrings. They helped me feel the cool air in my lungs. My head felt hot.

I continued my self therapy of focusing on details around me. The face of the police officer in front of me showed a middle aged man, who was very comfortable and a little bit confident. There was something about his placid outside that suggested on the inside, he was waiting to get home to a wife of small stature and two kids. He just seemed like the two kid kind of man.

He had something kind and hands-off about him that suggested that he rarely yelled at his kids. So, his kids would grow up to follow their internal instincts and explore the world unafraid. He looked like a daughter kind of father, because daughter fathers are mellower. His daughter was probably slender. She'd walk around the house in her pajamas and lean against the kitchen counter to ask for mochi. From how he cared for his clothes, he definitely seemed like someone, who spent a good part of his salary on furnishing a nice house.

She could vividly see the police officers house and his life. It seemed from the little hints of his face she could deduce how he had made his life decisions. Her mind was so deeply into the police officer's head that she felt like she had left her body. It was like an out of body experience.

The most bizarre feeling was that when she coughed, he coughed as well. Some kind of link had been created between the two. From the same place in the subconscious that the subway groping images had shot from, shot new images suggesting bukhake. Bukhake is an ancient tradition, where a disgraced woman is taken to the limits of the village. The village elders masturbate into her face and send her off to never return to the village. Bizarre, yet it beats lethal injection for capital crimes.

The cop knocked against the front of the transport compartment with his gloved fist. He told the driver to pull over. He explained the other cops that they were going to punish her with Bukhake, because the court system wouldn't. And, they had to stand up for one of their own, another man, being killed. Daishiro had died of a heart attack. The rapid aging had been too much for his body.

The armored truck tilted sideways. Apparently, the truck had rolled onto the side of the road. The double doors swung open. A cool temperate forest and rural road was on the outside. The guards were under a spell calling out "Bukhake" every once in a while. Otherwise, they didn't talk. They were four guards in total. They walked her five minutes into the forest.

They made her sit down on the semi-frozen ground among the downfall of branches and rotting leaves. They pulled down the top of her gray prison overall to expose her breasts. The pulled down overall further locked her arms in place. Her nipples were stiff from the cold.

White mist blew out of the police officers faces. They had large square pants. The jackets were made to make them look bulkier. They lowered their pants to their ankles. The white shirt tips appeared beneath the jacket. The panties were ribbed briefs, police issue. They vigorously pummeled their soft meats until they grew with blood.

I shivered from the anxiety of the situation and the cold. The police officer whose brain I had visited was the first to step in front of my face. "Open your mouth, whore," was his order. Then, he shot a load of jelly into my mouth. The last bit landed at my nostrils. Every blow flung a bit of the jelly. Yet, with the overall down my arms, I could not clean my face.

The next officer shot his load straight across my face, forehead, and beginning of hair. The salty semen stung in my eye. I kept my eye closed. A hand slapped across my face, "slut." My breasts were slapped expunging little gasps out of my mouth that I kept open with the jelly swimming around my tongue. Nipples were squeezed.

I was pushed onto my face. The overall was pulled over my ass. The third police officer fucked me from behind. My face was pressed into the dirt. My wrists were stuck in the sleeves that were at my knees with the rest of the uniform. I could feel the skin of a wide, yet short cock pushing into me. For some reason, I loved it. For some reason, I had been very horny since my lapse in the forest. The tiniest touch or thought could set of a storm inside my body.

The police officer heaved under his breath. His movements showed that he was clearly out of his element. There were hints of guilt, another family man. Something had bewitched those police officers. "Take this you dirty whore," hissed the man resting on my back into my ear. He had a premature ejaculation and came right away.

My uterus sucked again, sucked up the semen, sucked more semen out of the cock. My uterus seemed to suck so hard that it emptied all the raw sperm material out of the testicles. The man collapsed onto me. When he rolled off, I could feel that the skin on his hands had become very rough, like that of an old man.

Bizarrely, the other police officers did not bother with their collapsed colleague. They patiently stood in line like zombies to fuck me from behind. And, one after the next dropped. One after the next had signs of advanced age like rough skin, bad breath, or an ill body odor.

When the last one of them had dropped, I was still on my knees and chest. My heart pounded. My skin felt smooth. I felt energy like a teenager pulsing through my muscles. I sat up on my knees. I looked down at my bare boobs. They had received the spring and rosiness they had, when I was eighteen years old.

I took a deep breath. My muscles had an impulse to stretch. I stretched and contracted my muscles. That made me feel strong like I had just finished a set of heavy weights in the gym. My body started shaking from the stretch. I let out a moan of strength and relaxation that grew into a loud scream without any effort that hollored and echoed through the forest. My limps stretched straight. The cuffs fractured under the pressure of my superhuman muscles.

Freedom! The police officer had aged into old man with gray hair and gracefully aged faces. The uniforms were a bit too large, because their spine had shrunk with age. Strange, I thought for a moment. Then, I had the urge to run.

Obviously, anyone trying to get from trouble wants to run. However, my muscles were tingling antsy like a foal in spring time. I started on a light jog. The forest floor crunched beautifully under my sure steps. It felt so good to move. I started moving faster. My lungs were barely working. There was so much strength pulsing in me. I stared running at full speed. With ease, I dashed past the trees, turning and twisting my path, while I ducked under the dead branches of winter.

When you are focused on every motion of your feet, legs, and arms, you forget about time. You are in the very instant of anticipating the next touchdown of the foot and your body reacting to that. However, I had a faint feeling that I had been running for two hours at full speed through forests and fields. Warm sweats was running and dripping all over my body. Yet, my lungs were breathing as easy as lying in bed on a Sunday morning. There was so much strength and energy bottled up inside of me.

I could overlook the shore of Japan. The sky was dark and gray from the coming dawn and clouds. Rain poured down in the distance over the sea. A second tier commercial port was in front of me. A small hamlet was adjacent to the port for the workers. Escaping to another country, when you are hunted for murder of five men seemed like a good idea.