Oyasi: Cock Hungry and Deadly

My mind wasn't thinking reality of bullets and blood. My mind was thinking fantasies of movies. In Hollywood movies, heroes run away to Mexico. In Japan, you have to find your own Mexico.

The port had large multi lane roads with neglected holes. Grass was growing in the cracks of the road. The yellow gate booth was rusted red-brown. A window was broken. Nobody was inside. Sitting on the broken chair and squalid would have been punishment anyway. The fence around the container yard had many holes and warped fence stretches.

Walking through the containers was surreal. The containers towered five levels high. Two giant cranes moved containers around. The controls were fully automated by robots to safe on salaries. The shipyard was a very lonely place. The rust holes in the containers were quite large. Still she carefully snooped around every corner.

The sun had gone down almost completely. I spotted a ship with a Chinese flag. It was an old trawler. The bow was raised proudly high to plunge through high seas. The bridge stood over the ship like the shaft of a worn shoe. The plank had been pulled. Only big ropes held the boat to the land.

The ropes were large, rough, twisted, and stiff. I could barely get my hands around it. Hanging from my arms and my legs wrapped around the ropes, I pulled myself onto the boat. In any ordinary human condition, the ropes would have ripped through my dandy eighteen year old skin after the first grip. Yet, there was an intense energy and fountain of youth pulsing in my uterus.

The ship was dark. I felt my way along board and inside, until I felt that I was hiding in a room deep inside the ship. The many unorganized article in the room suggested that it was an abandoned storage room. I held my legs and arms close to my body, as I felt the slow rolling motion of the sea. I fell into a sweet slumber that nourished my stretched mind.

Though, the veil of my slumber, I felt the rumbling in the boat. The horn blue its trailing monotone. The keel left the harbor and met the waves of the ocean sea. Lethargic waves lifted the boat. Complete darkness was around me. All I could sense were the motions of the ocean and the feel of cool, stale air. And, there were the endless images jumbling through my mind and sorting out the recent events.

An unknown time passed. Without sunlight and a watch, a slumber could have been twenty minutes or eight hours. The annoying boredom could have been sixty unbearable seconds or an hour of getting lost in fantasies. The only thing that unshakably announced time was the rumbling in my stomach.

Getting caught as a stowaway was dangerous. Marine law requires boat crews to provide food and shelter to stowaways. Yet, the food goes away from their plate. Naturally, burly, thuggish sailors don't like to share their food as much as the menacing neighborhood stray dog. Yet, staying without moving was unbearable.

My hand reached through the air. Everything was black, yet anything could be a sharp instrument. Leaning back on my heels, I carefully felt the floor ahead with my toes. My hands were carefully sifting the black air for tables and other hard objects.

Narrow hallways had faint light from god knows where. The ocean air smelled like rotting seaweed, a putrid, heavy smell. The walls were made of hard iron and thick layers of white paint. The paint was so thick that you'd believe it was melted white chocolate goo. The staircases were so steep and narrow that you'd always have to watch your head.

Once, I saw the open ocean through a door. It took me by surprise. My mind drifted to post card moments. Wide open blue sky. The ocean was dark, blue with white foam crescents. The railings reminded of a cruise ship and happy moments. Outside meant being exposed. So, I stuck to the belly of the ship.

In the lunch room, I found the two sailors of the ship. The light was stark and synthetic. The laminate floor had a dull gray texture. Cheap metal chairs were put around non-descript tables. Full boxes of salt and sugar packets were piled next to a microwave.

The young guy was tall and had a shaved, egg-shaped head. He was dressed in blue workout clothes. Despite his height, his face painted indignation of being the second person.

The older guy was a sixty year old thinning gray heard bastard with egg-yolk on his sweater. He sat leaning with a self-effused pouty smile on his face. His pants were wide and shaggy.

My pussy started vibrating. I could instantly feel the lubricant pooling like a hungry dog drools at the sight of food. I was washed in horny and terrified feelings. I did not want to kill and fuck anymore people. You may have thought that I loved fucking those four cops in the forest. I did in the heat of the moment. However, with a clear head, all the images roll through my head. They ain't that hot anymore. My breasts were tingling and nipples stifling.

With much self-discipline, I crawled away to a safe distance, where my intense lust eased. Like a chocolate addict, I stole glances of the men over the next days, "just a look, a glimpse, not even touching." And, once I was lurking on them, the voice in my head said, "just a little touch, a little nibble. They won't mind." And then, I could see the penis of the tall, young, Russian mate in front of my face: Pale, hard, smooth, delicious with a few rosy highlights.

Whenever I visualized his penis clearly in my head with the two little freckles beneath, I saw him getting a real erection. He'd ruffle for magazines in a drawer under the bridge. With his feet on the control board, he'd wank off to the audience of the wide glass window of the cockpit.

One time, I imagined him taking me with my skirt on. I saw us both floating in the soft air, the ocean, and white clouds. It was so romantic. Russian guys are so rough in the streets and bars, yet, in privacy, they are so soft. I imagined his shaved head over my shaved pussy with that smooth tongue wrestling my clitoris. With the photo clear in my mind, he started moving in my direction like in a trance.

I panicked and ran. There were times aboard the ship, when I wanted to kill myself. I seemed to have turned into a menacing danger, a serial killer, a mind manipulator. My family must think that I am a freak. My body oscillates from 40 years old to 18 years old. In the silence of the belly of the ship, I pondered dying by drowning -- too cold, dying by strangulation -- too much suffering, cutting an artery -- too ghastly to push the knife.

After five days, the ship landed in China. Houses, streets, and everything was damaged by the yellow soot. The yellow soot was spewed into the air by factories. There was no security. There were no fences. If you looked closely, the harbor workers had ghastly marks of accidents: missing hands, seven inch long scars, and limp legs.

Near, the commercial harbor, I found a little slum area. Nobody would bother me hear. The foundations of a carton shed were noticeable. Someone had built it a few days ago. Even the grass struggled to grow on the hard packed rubble. Old Chinese men with tea stained teeth, if they still had them, were sleeping on the floor. Younger Chinese men had succumbed to alcohol. They were sitting on oil barrels with persistent diarrhea from cheap boot leg bottles.

I was depressed. For days, I sat on a piece broken of a wood pallet. I didn't move. After a while, not moving became easy. My limbs kind of froze in place. The synovial fluid in my joints must have oozed out. And, my bones grew together. My world offered me no reason to live.

There was an old man nearby. He had a checkered shirt and worn gray cargo pants. The bottom ends of the cargo pants were frayed. He loved making tea every afternoon. He'd walk around looking for scrapes of wood or cartons. He'd fling two metal pieces against each other until the sparks set a small flame. With red cheeks, he'd blow the flame into a modest fire.

He is only a person. In a romantic novel, he'd have a loving family somewhere. In reality, those poor slobs are poor lonely slobs all the way. They may have their joys of catching a grasshopper or getting a birthday gift, yet their daddies are a blend of stupid, abusive, socially and emotional inept bastards.

I wondered what his dad would have beaten him for. Out of nowhere my mind was very convinced that it was for not coming home from school fast enough. Somehow, I could see the brown wood grain of the door so clearly. He stood in the door, the door just opened and his face slammed, crying bitterly. The whole frame of his skinny boy body was shaking. His mind was furiously swearing to haunt his father to the end of the earth. Those words were forgotten by the time he stopped crying.

With nothing to all day, my idle mind wandered through the old man's life like a museum. The old man, we never talked, his name was Bingwen. I am convinced of that. Don't ask me why. He got this trance like expression on his face, when I'd watch him for a while. Then, he brought me food and drink. I wasn't sure, if he was kind or if I had made him my drone.

The days of denying the world had to come to an end. Every day, my face and body aged about a year. I was now sixty years old. My bones were frail as glass from osteoporosis. My face felt hardened by the myriad of deep wrinkles. The bounce of my step had been replaced with feet scuffing the floor.

Without a plan, I walked in one direction. Somewhere, there would be a commercial sector. Somewhere, there would be normal. Somewhere, there would be a life. So, I walked. After a few blocks, my stomach started hurting. My knees swelled up. My head got a thumping pain. The pain worsened until I stopped. When I walked back to the rough land, the pain lifted in reverse. That's when I learned that I was imprisoned to stay on the rough land by some magical power.

Did vampires exist? Where the mystical stories of the Aino People true? I pondered that standing under the only street light, a yellow cone of light. From behind, I must have looked like an attractive girl. Remember, I am short like a little girl. A creepy man had been slowly advancing to me.

He paused shocked for a moment, when he saw my face. Yet, he must have been so desperate for tail that he'd even take it from a sixty year old. His pants were blocky. His shoes were blocky. His jaw was blocky. He was a very blocky man. His face had no refinement. There didn't seem to be any schooling in the head, not even the final years of high school.

Somehow, I had no mercy with the low life. My hands reached for the zipper of the overall. I pulled it down slowly to reveal my body. I was still thin and cute beneath the crust of age. Yet, my boobs had become even thinner. The skin had many folds with the connective tissue having become loose. My pussy was glowing warmth into my cold body, like a hearth in the center of a giant castle built of thick walls.

Without hesitation, he kissed me. He pressed his clothed body against my naked body. The taste buds in my tongue had weakened from age. I could not taste his mouth as much as I used to. My skin sensation was not as high fidelity as it used to be, when I was my own age. Yet, the memory of sex and horniness was more intense than ever. My vaginal lining had thinned with menopause. Now, it was pulsating and seemed to re-grow.

My hands fumbled his pants open. I pulled his pants just down his butt. Then, I plunged his penis inside of me. That moment was like plugging into the matrix. My depression lifted. I knew that everything would be alright. The birds would sing again.

The savage man laid me on my back. I was completely naked beneath him with the back on the rough street. He was clothed with only his butt exposed to the air. His butt kept lifting into the night air and pushing down inside of me. I breathed. I breathed the air. I breathed his body odor. My pussy breathed in life itself.

Everything had been going so well. We had established a rhythm. We had disappeared into our own bubbles of lust. Then, he pulled out. He pulled his penis out. He was apologetic. He had an orgasm problem.

My mind was set on fucking the life force out of him. His hang up wouldn't stop me. So, I sucked his dick. My mind had one goal and focus: Get him turned on enough to ejaculate inside of me. He loved it. He loved it so much, the suction of my tongue, the slick sensation on his dick, and the feeling of dominating me. His face painted heaven.

With the cum poised in his gonads, he fucked me again. And, oh, it was a celebration. I felt the trickle and the spurts. I could visualize the white jelly among my pussy juice. Then, the uterus dipped down on his penis. The uterus lapped up the semen. The uterus sucked on the opening in his dick, until his gonads were sucked dry. My heart pounded with fresh life force.

He was limp and dead. I pushed him away with my consciousness drowned in the good feeling. I poked his body with my feet. I kind of rolled him around a bit, like a spoiled teenager. He was pretty limp being dead.

I was now thirty. He had only shaved thirty years of my age. Thirty is a pretty good time in life. You still have strength and vitality. My face was had the increased definition of age. Yet, the skin was still youthful and the smile fresh.

All along, I had been watched and observed. My spine had needles running down, when I realized that I was caught. My first thought was that I'd get another man as a meal to reach my real age again. However, an Amazon tall woman 6'3" easily on black high heels elegantly walked toward my like she was parading on a catwalk. Her knees would move first. Her feet would snap forward at the last moment before being planted for the next step. Her knees moved around each other, as if she were balancing on a tight rope.

She wore an elegant black jacket over her dress. The jacket was longer than her dress. Many buckles were hanging off the jacket. The black hair of the woman was pulled back into a pony tail. Her eyes were fish eyes. Her lips were painted equally oversized and round. She pulled smoke out of a skinny cigarette. She walked slowly toward me with all the confidence of a mighty army stepping up to a little boy holding a teddy bear.

"I see. You have killed for the first time with purpose of feeding yourself."

"How do you know that I killed the man? I am a pretty small girl for such a big, rough man."

"Don't kid yourself, newborn. We both know that your pussy sucked the life out of the low life."

Her observation had been too astute. I could not talk in shock.

"You have caused quite a stir with the dead bodies. The boy in the museum could have been a freak accident. Taking out four heavily armed police guards raised uncomfortable attention to our kind. The panel sent me to take care of you."

"How can you know all these things?"

"Oh, poor little thing! Nobody has told you. They never tell the newborns."

I looked at the woman talking with a British accent more enthralled then scared for my life. The energy in my limps made me feel invincible, even though I had been caught red handed.

"You are an oyasi. That's a mythical Ainu creature. At the hot spring, the onsen oyasi turned you, remember that cute girl and your Lesbian fling?"

We just stood there under the lone street light. I was still naked. She was dressed for an upscale neighborhood in London, yet standing in a Chinese harbor slum.

"In Ainu mythology, everything has a spirit. The bear has a spirit. A lake has a spirit. A mountain has a spirit. We are the demon kind of spirit, an oyasi. We have to feed on the sexual secretions of humans. They make us strong. If we don't feed, we age. We don't die. We age."

"You my friend, Tamiko, have to learn to stop fucking before they die. It draws too much attention to us. Fuck 'em, take five years off their life, and move on to the next one."

"How do you know my name?"

"You know. I saw what you did to old gentleman with the tea habit. We can enter people's minds. It's not just your fantasy about the person. You are literally inside their mind. I assume you did the same to the police guards. Those guards are too uptight to fuck a cute chick, even if she dances naked on their dicks."

"I can read people's minds and mind control them."

"Everything has its upsides. You wanna know what other powers you have, don't you?"

"How do I know that I am really an oyasi? What if you are a mental health doctor testing me, if I have gone insane?"

She smiled. She smiled this superior smile with her head knocking back. Slowly, she pulled the ear buds of an iPod out and started listening to music with her eyes closed for a minute or two. I could hear the loud music overflowing her ears. Luscious house beats emanated out and reminded me of how wonderful life can be at clubs.

Her eyes opened. Her long finger with perfect nail polish pointed straight at a fence post with rubbish leaning against it.

"Go there, dear. And, you will find out."

My body was so supercharged that I could not walk. Automatically, I started an easy jog. I bounced leg to leg. I felt my muscles and boobs lifting with each step. With a strong exhale, I lurked around the fence post.

A vagrant man in his thirties lay under a pile of ripped cardboard boxes. Only a triangle of his face was visible in the rubble camouflage. I pulled him up by his shoulders. My vitality was so strong that I lifted him with ease. I kind of flung him a couple feet by accident.

He awake with starry wide open eyes and shock on his face. Yet, his body was still slumbering, while his mind panicked. I jumped on top of him. I straddled his groin. I pushed my boobs against him. I wet kissed his neck, ears, and face. I was ravenous.

He eased into my hot kisses, hugs, and embraces. Our tongues meet like agitated bees buzzing around each other. Men are so culpable. The disregard any suspicion as long as they get pussy. His penis was quickly hard. I dry humped his penis hiding under the pant fabric. I rubbed my pussy along his shaft. He probably didn't feel much. My external vagina felt a lot, when rubbing against his rough fabric.

The power in me made it so much easier to rip his clothes into pieces than bother with the fine motoric required to properly undress him. He must have been the only Chinese with a large dick. My whole pussy was stretched and wonderfully filled. Rubbing my naked body against his, the skin to skin contact, was so delicious.

I was in a fucking fever. I slammed my groin so hard against his body that it must have seemed grotesque like an overdone porn movie. My brain had only one voice hammering: "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck his brains out!" It wasn't that he turned me on. I had this inner fire of lust that I needed to discharge. Like an angry boxer discharges into a sand bag, I discharged biting, sucking, and fucking into the overjoyed vigrant worker boy.

When he finally erupted inside of me with his eyes pressed clothed and mouth gaping uncontrollably open, I screamed. I screamed with a surge on the inside. I could hear my voice echoing back from the overhead pillars. Even the harbor itself faintly threw my echo back. My uterus twitched and sucked.

The London-esque mystery woman pulled me of the male body. I was strong with the power cursing through me. Yet, she was even stronger. We could have crushed concrete between our hands. We were so strong. Yet, being pulled off the penis hurt like hell. My whole uterus and stomach felt like being ripped out.

Panting from the pain, I doubled over five feet away from the unconscious vagrant worker.

"So, Tamiko, do you belief a normal human being could act like that? By the way, I like you much more with that innocent 18 year girl look."

"I am a monster."

"No, you are an oyasi. You are just a young one. You have to grow into your new identity. You will love it. We should go on an adventure. Oh, I forgot you can't."