Akari and the Englishmen Pt. B

I wasn't sure if they had planned to finish then, or if my unexpected orgasm had unsettled them, but I was tossed to the floor. No cock was forced up me anymore. Instead as I lay on the cold tiles, shaking as I came down from my cum, they stood over me and showered me in verbal abuse, calling me a whore, warning me to never enter any of that uncle's properties again. Then those men filed out. One came back and gave me three viscous kicks in the ass as a final 'punishment', then it was over.

I lay exhausted in my mess. Sweat. Vaginal discharge. Semen. I was laying in a pool of filth, shivering. I jumped at the sound of footsteps coming into the change-rooms.

"Akari?"

I looked up. It was Tash. I burst into tears at the sight, feeling miserable and sorry for myself.

"Akari. Let's get you up. Get into the shower," he said, helping me to gingerly stand. He took off his own clothes and carried me into a cubicle, standing sobbing under the warm water and steam. I don't know why but I turned to Tash and held him tightly, hanging on like he was my savior. He was surprised when I reached up to kiss his neck, face and lips, but he kissed back. I reached down to tug his erection. I'd never been as sore as I shifted my hips to guide his penis into me. Tash lifted me by the ass and held my back against the cold wall as he slowly drove his cock in and out of me. My vagina had never hurt so much, yet I wanted him inside me more than any cock ever. I wanted to be fucked by someone I knew, by someone young. I wanted his cock to help force all the old man cum out of me, to help cleanse me. It was a bizarre reaction from post traumatic stress.

"Akari, I'm so sorry you had to do that," Tash said, kissing my mouth and stroking into my smashed vagina. "My uncle... he has cameras in the building. I had no idea, I'm so sorry."

I didn't answer. I kissed him desperately. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, begging him to keep fucking me. We slid to the floor in the pouring water. I sat on his lap and bounced. As sore as they were, I put my breasts to his mouth to suck as I fucked him.

As crazy as it was to be having sex after the beating and humiliation I had been through, it was the medicine I wanted right then. I thought I had been left alone in my mess, I was terrified of what to do next. When Tash walked in I'd never been so relieved in my life. I had never been so happy to wrap my vagina around a guy's cock. I felt safe with someone familiar in me again. That he was the one who betrayed me was not important. For the longest time I wouldn't let him leave me. Even after his orgasm, I held him in me, kissing his mouth until our jaws hurt.

"Akari. We can't stay here. We're all wrinkled. I need to get you home."

"How?" I asked meekly.

"I can use my uncle's driver. They won't mind if it means I'm getting you out of here."

I stood up, semen trailing from between my legs and circling down the shower drain. I was already stiff and sore, I couldn't imagine how I would feel later on.

"What's the time?" I asked.

"I don't know. Around seven-thirty."

"Why haven't they kicked us out?"

"Swimming is finished, but the sports centre remains open until nine."

"I was screaming. Why did no one come to help me?" I asked, shuffling to the mirror. My face was dour and tired. My breasts were covered in bruises from the beating and hickeys. I turned around. My back and ass were even worse.

"I shut all the doors," Tash admitted. "My uncle's company owns all this. The building. The centre management. Even the security company."

"But why? What did I do wrong?"

"They think you're a whore."

"But I'm not. I didn't take money. Did you tell them that?"

"It doesn't matter. You're Asian. You come and go at the same time all the time, only on Saturdays. Your clothes come off as soon as you walk in. They think it's an appointment. They think my cousin has offered you something."

"That's not true. Tash, you know that's not true."

"I know," he agreed.

"Then why did you let them do that to me?" I flared at him.

"Let them?" he laughed. "Nobody lets my uncle do anything. He does what he wants, he thinks what he wants. He thinks I'm just making excuses for you. Thinks I'm soft."

If I didn't feel so sorry for myself, I may have felt more empathy. I picked up my bikini top from the floor. It was ripped and unwearable, I threw it in the bin. I went out to the deck to get my bikini bottoms from the equipment box, but the whole box had been cleared away. Back in the change-room my bag was there but the clothes pulled out and taken.

"Why?" I sighed dejectedly.

"I don't know," Tash shrugged in empathy. "Shame the whore probably. Make you walk out of here all messed up and naked."

I shook my head and picked up my bag. Even the towel was gone. What a mess.

"Who were all those men?"

"I don't know. He has buddies, a group of them. They are like a grandpa vigilante gang."

"They are not very brave," I sneered.

"No. But they are rich. And the law won't touch them. Not for someone as small as us, anyway."

"Us?" I squinted.

"Well... you," Tash said more accurately. He gave me his t-shirt, it covered my pussy and most of my ass. Tash walked me outside with his own chest bare. He made a call. We waited by the curb for the car to come in silence, him wearing only his pants, me wearing only a t-shirt. A Mercedes arrived, and the back door opened automatically, making me jump in fear that someone may get out.

"It's okay. It's just us, no one is here," Tash assured me, sticking his head in the back. Inside was a large leather seat with huge legroom. A panel separated us from the driver.

"What's your address?" he asked. I hesitated, and Tash read my mind. "Okay. Somewhere nearby, if you're worried. Next street over."

"It's okay," I said, giving it. Tash pushed a button and relayed it to the driver. "Can he hear us?"

"Only if I press this."

"Are you sure? There's no camera?"

"No, this is my uncle's car. No way would he want anyone looking in at himself."

"Okay," I nodded. My vagina stung, so I pulled off Tash's t-shirt and sat on it, spreading my legs wide to give my pussy air. I dabbed at it, trying to feel if anything seemed different or broken.

"Is it okay?" Tash asked, watching.

"Can you take a look?"

"Umm... yeah. What am I looking for?" Tash said meekly, getting onto his knees and turning on the torch light on the phone.

"I feel like it's bleeding," I worried.

"Hmm, can't see any blood. Let me dab it with a tissue."

There was a box in the console. It stung when Tash touched me, but he showed me there was nothing but clear mucus on the tissue, even after sticking it up me.

"That's good," I sighed. A small relief.

I spent the ride home holding Tash tightly. His pants were on, but other than that we were both naked. He apologized so many times that I kissed him to keep him quiet. It was an intimate sharing of tongues, Tash did no more than grip and fondle my breasts as we rode along. When we arrived the only space for the car was down the road from the Ostle house, which was good. I didn't want questions about how I came home in a limo. I put Tash's t-shirt on and kissed him goodbye. There was no mention of how I would give his clothes back I think we both know I would be keeping it, there was little chance we would see each other again.

I managed to get inside and up into the bathroom without running across any of the other three. I looked in the mirror. The condition of my face wasn't bad, I could cover it in makeup, but my body was a mess. In the car Tash had suggested that if I really needed to show my tits to guys, that I should say I wasn't wearing the right protection at paintball. I suspected he'd given that advice to others before, but I didn't ask.

So, when Josh came in while I was taking a shower, I managed to turn his shock into laughter. He was happy to leave my body be for a few days to recover, allowing me to take him in my mouth instead. He liked that I swallowed, and I let him film it to show his buddies. He was a legend among them again.

Chapter 22

Bobby and I never messaged or spoke after that. Tash kept me updated that he was taking it badly, and deeply ashamed. He had made himself out to be someone on top of everything, and it all crumbled down in a day. It's difficult to love others when you hate yourself. Tash said he would keep an eye on him, I wasn't to worry. In my mind, I wondered why it wasn't Tash feeling miserable, not Bobby. Bobby did nothing wrong. I guessed Tash was accustomed to the behavior.

I myself had some bad dreams about the time in the pool change-rooms, but thankfully it didn't last. I didn't feel guilty for it happening to me. It wasn't my fault, nor was I to blame. Those men were bad people. I refused to let them push their oppression of women onto me. Tash had said they wanted me to walk out of the change-rooms naked and bruised to intensify my feeling of guilt and shame. No. I don't believe it was to make me feel guilty and repent. They were using piety as an excuse. I believe that in the back of their mind they wanted to gang-fuck a beautiful young girl and found a moral excuse to do it. The contradiction was staggering. It's like protestors that smash things up -- they aren't really protesting, they just like smashing things up.

By the time the Professor had me alone, the bruising was light and my vagina back in working order. The paintball excuse was holding up, even with Jordan back home; what else would cause so many little-dot bruises? I'm not sure if it was my imagination, but the Professor seemed to be getting more brutal with me. He literally threw me around as he fucked me, smashing my pussy with each thrust. It was like he was more and more frustrated with his wife or his work or the lockdown or maybe life in general. I was the one person he could do what he wanted to, without question. I asked him to choke me with a scarf, thinking it may help relieve his anger and frustration but it made him go even harder. When Bobby had got me to the edge of passing out, it was entirely for my pleasure. When I nearly blacked out for the Professor, he was completely getting himself off. If he hadn't cum in me just at the moment things started to go black, I worry what may have happened. After his orgasm he was calm again, at least. We lay in his bed kissing and holding each other intimately. I liked being naked with him when the rage hormones had left him, deposited deep in my vagina. The way he gripped my bare ass and held me to his body, it was manly.

Mrs. Ostle was the opposite. The very next day I was back in their bedroom with her. With the Professor out and Josh at school, she asked me in to try some clothes from an old box.

"I need to see what is appropriate to donate. Come and try them on. I don't want to be sending something too see-through to charity, do I?"

It was entirely a rouse. Mrs. Ostle put me in her bath and sat on a stool washing me. As ever, I was never to touch her. I was her doll to play with. She massaged as she cleaned, literally polishing my breasts to a shine. She dried me, and fingered soothing oils into my vagina. I was put in and out of a number of outfits, not one of them remotely appropriate for charity -- which she would have known before we started. Mrs. Ostle felt me up and kissed my body, before finally laying me naked on the same bed her husband did the day before to bury her face into my pussy.

Oh, Mrs. Ostle was good. She had a way with her tongue and her fingers that kept me constantly on edge but not over it. Even when I screamed at her to bury her hand inside me, to give me relief, Mrs. Ostle backed off until I calmed down. Then she started over. She played me like an instrument. Her husband had the same skills once he had lost his frustration. They were clearly meant for each other. Or perhaps they weren't, perhaps they were too alike?

And at night like every night, Jordan got up early in Japan and watched me fuck Josh over the webcam, directing him sometimes on what to do to me. Josh's hands were small, he did put it all the way in when asked, unlike his mother. He did let me get off, to have my screaming orgasm into a muffled pillow.

"Jordan," I said, laying on my bed one morning with my pants off. It was starting to get cold. I was alone for once, and it was evening for him. I had been sticking my toys up myself for him to watch. "Can I come home?"

"What? When?"

"Now."

"Why? How?" he asked, wiping his cum away with a tissue. He had ejaculated watching me bring myself to orgasm.

"I've had enough. My study is nearly done. It's been so long since I've been home. You and I haven't had any sex at all for more than a year."

"You've got Josh. Tomoko stays here each weekend. We've had people to fuck."

"It's not the same. You're not falling in love with her, are you?"

"Ha!" Jordan laughed. "No. She makes me use condoms all the time lately. Getting sick of that, I can tell you."

"I wanna give it to you myself. I want you to cum in me," I said sadly.

"Can you just leave, though? Your course?" Jordan said, throwing the tissues in the bin.

"I'm going to ask the Professor. I want to finish remotely. We've all been off campus for so long, even if we're back a bit now, remote is not as strange as it used to be, right?"

"Maybe. It'll be strange hours, if you're in Japan."

"I don't care. I don't even have friends here. I can't visit anywhere. All I do is campus twice a week all social-distanced, and have sex up here in the room with Josh. I wanna come home."

"Lucky you've got him, at least. I'm grateful you get to be fucked at least. Imagine you didn't have that?"

"I wanna come home," I said again. I really was over it.

The Professor was hesitant. I couldn't tell if it was the interruption and exception he would need to grant to his course, or if he was losing free pussy six months early.

"I want to be home for Christmas," I said.

"I thought Japan doesn't celebrate Christmas?" he countered.

"My boyfriend does." He and I had rarely mentioned Jordan.

"Go home and come back?"

"I wanna go and stay. I don't have any friends. I only know your family. I love being here, but it's time for me to go home."

I could see that it was heart-wrenching for him to let go. So, I tried to make the transition easier.

"If I do go home, if I can... could we spend some time first? Could we go away somewhere? Together? Sleep in the same bed? As a goodbye?"

Clearly the prospect brightened the Professor. He warmed to the idea of the bribe. I would give him a week; he could do what he wanted to me. It was too tricky to go abroad, we would need to stay in the UK -- somewhere he didn't know anyone. The plan was I would 'leave', and the Professor would take me to the airport. I would stay in a hotel for the night by myself, the Professor going home, supposedly never to see me again.

Then the Professor would make a trip to the university in Edinburgh. He genuinely had a research session that had been delayed for almost a year by the pandemic, and talked them into allowing him to come in a COVID-protected manner. He would drive, not fly or take a train. He would stay at a hotel off-campus, rather than the University Hall. He would limit the number of hours he spent on campus to the absolute minimum number of hours required. And he would take more Viagra than was healthy to maintain his ability to fuck the hell out of me at each available moment.

"The perfect farewell," he sighed as we put the finishing touches on our scheme. The irony was not lost on me, and I wondered if he felt it, too. I had to fuck the Professor to be able to stay on the course, and now I was going to fuck him to be allowed to leave.

Chapter 23

Mrs. Ostle didn't show any emotion at me leaving, but I knew she would miss me as an outlet for her lingering sexuality. She would miss me as her toy. Josh, though, he showed plenty of emotion. He was a teen boy with a black storm-cloud over him, as if I was going away as a way to hurt him. He actually said 'not fair', and I made it worse by bursting out in laughter. In the end I had to be a stern teacher and tell him he could fuck me for ten more days, or he could sulk in his room for ten more days - either way, I was going home.

Josh chose to keep fucking me, but the last evening was tough. I was glad when it finally came to an end. Men showing emotion and crying is attractive to an extent - but Josh overdid it. It was all I could do to resist slapping him and telling him stop being pathetic. I giggled to myself when I play-acted in my mind how he would react to being told 'man up!'

As much as the Professor wanted to see me into my hotel room and relieve me of my pants, he resisted for one day, going home quickly and not smelling of vagina. I had to confess to Jordan that I may not be able to speak with him for a week before I caught my flight.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "It was the only way I could convince him to let me finish the course remotely."

"Wow, he gets you 24-7 for a week?"

"I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me for it."

"Akari, come on. You I know I don't mind that you give your cunt to guys. He must be over the moon. You've been in his house all this time, and finally he gets to sink his cock into you."

"He does seem pretty excited," I smiled.

"Give him a good one then, let him do all the weird shit he's probably been dreaming up."

"He is strong," I mused. "I'll probably be bruised when I come home."

Jordan shrugged. "As long as there's no permanent damage."

"I won't let him do that," I promised.

The next morning, I left my big bags in storage at the hotel and climbed into the Professor's Range Rover with the smallest of travel bags.

"No underwear. No pajamas. No sex toys. Just me and you," I said as we kissed deeply.

"Take your clothes off," he told me.

"All of them? In the car?"

The Professor nodded.

"I'll just take my pants off. It will be safer."

"All of them."

"In the daylight like this. People will see."

"Everything. Off."

"Okay... you better turn the heater up."

My nipples stood hard as we drove along, gorgeous winter sun pouring in through the entirely glass roof of the car. It shone in on both of us, there was nowhere to hide from any driver or passenger that was in a bus or a truck or any vehicle high enough to see in over the ledge of my window. Even the low cars would have been able to see my bare shoulders and neckline. The front of the car had a big box and armrest between the passenger and driver, to give him a blowjob as we drove I had to get up on my knees to lean over. It wasn't very practical, and the Professor wasn't in a quick-cum mood. My nudity was too obvious, and I couldn't keep the seatbelt on, so we found a quiet lane to stop and get the Professor's sexual anxiety dealt with. It was toasty warm in the car with the sun pouring in from above. I'd never sat on the gear lever of a car before and push it all up me. The Professor loved it, filming as I fucked his car. It was weird, but felt strangely nice in there. And no premature ejaculation, I could keep going until I came! The Professor wouldn't let me clean my gunk off it afterward, nor stop the sperm he put in me from leaking onto his leather seats.

"I hope it stains," he said, "It will be a lovely memory."

It took more than eight hours to drive up, stopping twice for food and fuel and bathroom. I put my big coat over my body to go out. In the car I was nude, though the second half of the drive was cloudy and then dark, so I felt less exposed to people outside. The hotel in Edinburgh was remarkable of course, given the Professor's upbringing. The porter offered to take my coat when we got into the room. The Professor smiled and nodded. The porter didn't bat an eyelid as he hung it in the closet along with The Professor's.