Rika's Menagerie

Nota Bene! this story depicts light lezdom, anal play, and adult breastfeeding. If you're cool with all those things then please enjoy!

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Big shout out to Jay626 for helping make this story better! He's another great author on Literotica. Go check out his works!

I was the only American working at the Tokyo office, and the only tall, white, red-headed woman. In the sea of grey suits and black hair, I stood out like a poppy.

Rika stood out too. Not like a poppy, but like a fire. As the young secretary of Takahiro Sato, the senior partner of my unit, you'd expect a quiet, timid eager-to-please 'office lady' but Rika was different.

With her black pixie-cut hair fringed red at the tips and her tattooed arms brazenly bared in short sleeves, you immediately knew she was a cut apart from your typical Japanese 'office lady.' She always wore a slightly mischievous smile that made her seem like she was up to no good or someone had just told her a dirty joke. She had perpetually narrowed eyes that observed without fear and haughtily invited you to say anything to her and receive a salvo of sharp wit in return. A sullen Bushido rebelliousness about her made her difficult to approach. I guessed she would have a tough time finding work elsewhere in the corporate world, but Takahiro adored her for her subversive aesthetics. He wanted this firm to break from the traditional corporate Japanese mold. I suppose she embodied that spirit, or at least she was a distillation of it.

She might have been ten years younger than my thirty-five, perhaps more, but that age difference, nor our stark hierarchical divide didn't change the fact that I secretly crushed on her. I often caught myself glancing at her like a high school girl fawning over a cute classmate sitting across the room. It was an infatuation I was surprised at myself for having, not the least because she was my boss's secretary but also because she was certainly not my type by any stretch of the imagination. I couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it my loneliness that did it. It didn't help that, in spite of her Edo-punk aesthetics, she was very easy on the eyes. Unusually for Japan, she was adorned with bountiful breasts that protruded prodigiously from her chest, giving her small frame a voluptuous shape even if she wore a sweater. But besides her sexiness, there was an air about her I couldn't quite put a finger on. Perhaps it was that, because like me, she stood apart from the sea of grey and black and because I had that commonality with her, she was something I could latch onto. A substrate for a connection to this city despite not having shared more than a few words of greeting since Takahiro first introduced her to me.

It took a month before I would have my first conversation with her, but when that conversation happened, it would launch me on a course I would never guess I would take in a million years.

That fateful conversation occurred in a cocktail bar at the top of the Ritz-Carlton in Shinjuku during a company outing. I spotted her out on the terrace alone, a Manhattan in her hand, staring wistfully at the distant outline of Mount Fuji, which glowed like a silver eclipse against a velvet purple sky. Despite her petite frame and young face, she held herself like the queen of the Yakuza.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said as I went out onto the terrace.

I wasn't really paying attention to the view. I was eyeing her. Mostly because of the way she filled out her black cocktail dress. She turned to me and gave me one of her famous mischievous smiles as she brushed her flame-tipped pixie-cut hair from her eyes to look me up and down.

"Gorgeous," she answered. She might have been talking about me. So, I blushed. She gave a barely perceivable bow. "You're Jen Williams, right? The new partner?"

"That's right," I said. "And you're Rika."

"Yes, I am. Are you having a good time in Tokyo so far, Williams-san?"

"I'm having an alright time," I answered honestly. "And call me Jen when we're out of the office. I hate feeling like I'm at work all the time."

"Ok, Jen it is. So, just alright, Jen?"

I glanced back at the men that lined the cocktail bar. Their red faces laughing at a joke that probably would have been beyond me. Jokes that, if I were there right now, I would be making a stilted effort to join in the laughter.

"Still trying to get my bearings," I replied.

Rika smiled. "So am I. Come watch the sunset with me?"

My heart began to patter. I glanced over my shoulders to the men at the cocktail bar again. It was an involuntary act derived from a gut instinct that told me that joining her would be taboo. But of course, it wouldn't be. I was allowed to watch the sunset with the boss's secretary.

Rika saw my trepidation. "Don't worry, I don't bite, Jen," she teased.

I blushed.

"I know that. Sure, let's watch the sunset,' I said, my heart pattering.

Rika's Manhattan looked nice, so I ordered one. She finished hers quickly and ordered a second. We got pretty tipsy as the stars appeared in the glittering night sky. The moon hung above Mount Fuji, making the snow-capped peak glow pale blue. We ordered more cocktails as the others filtered out, and the moon disappeared behind silver clouds. Before long, Rika and I were the only ones left beside the bartender and the waiters. It was near closing time, but I didn't want our night to end. Neither did Rika, apparently.

"I know a place with good live music. A band I think you'd like is playing tonight," she said.

"Ok," I said. At that point, I had thoroughly convinced myself there was nothing wrong with hanging out with Takahiro's secretary for just one night. It had been so long since I'd had a friend to go out with. I was in dire need of a girls' night out. If Rika was the one to give me that, then so be it. Sato-san would understand.

The place was in Kabukicho, a district known for its distinctively grungy nightlife. We took a taxi and rode in silence. She sat close to me and smelled wonderful. Her warmth made my heart melt and my body rigid. A part of me was very cautious about crossing any lines, but another part was curious to know if she liked girls. It didn't take long for Rika to satiate my curiosity and cross all sorts of lines simultaneously.

After the taxi dropped us off near the bar, Rika pulled me out from the streetlights into an alley.

"What are you doing?" I chuckled.

She didn't respond with words. She leaned in to kiss me. My eyes went wide. I stood rigidly as she put her lips on my mouth. For a moment as fleeting as a firefly light, I wanted to lean right back into that kiss. I wanted to put her against the alley wall and put my tongue into her mouth. She tasted so wonderful. Her lips were so soft. But that desire lasted only for a fleeting moment. I managed to pull away from her before she could suck me into her arms.

"Woah! Rika. You don't do that!"

I chided her like I used to chide my cat for bringing in a dead bird. She watched me like my cat used to. Hearing, but not listening.

She laughed. Wiped her mouth. A smirk twisted onto her lips. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me," she said innocently.

"We really shouldn't be doing that, Rika," I said.

Words uttered without any heart because my heart wanted her to try that kiss again. And she could tell. But she didn't try again.

"I understand, Jen. I hope you forgive me."

"Forgiven. Let's just forget that happened and check out that bar, ok?"

She nodded. "Sure, it's just right around the corner."

A '90s grunge cover band played at the bar. I told Rika I was from Seattle. She was a fan of Nirvana. It wasn't my thing, but the band was pretty good, and the energy in the bar was fun. We ordered whiskey highballs, a Tokyo staple, and went into the packed crowd with our drinks in hand.

While we danced, we were constantly pushed against each other. It was hot and packed. We became sweaty. Our bodies touched tentatively at first. Nervous grazes, at least on my part. By the second whiskey highball, all my inhibitions evaporated away. We danced like a pair of sticks rubbed together for friction to make a fire. Her grinding against me caused a crackling fire inside me. Her ass against my pussy made me dripping wet.

After the bar, we took a stroll through the streets. I lived nearby, so Rika offered to walk me to my place. I accepted. Before I knew it, she was with me in the elevator. By the time the elevator reached my floor, I had thoroughly discarded all pretenses. I threw myself on Rika. The loneliness that made me do it.

We left behind a trail of clothes starting from the entrance to my apartment. Our coats were left in rumpled piles atop our shoes in the entranceway. Our cocktail dresses were crudely peeled from our bodies and cast aside in the living room. Our bras were cast onto the living room couch. Our panties were left mingling at the foot of my bed.

Before I knew it, she had her head between my thighs and her tongue lapping against my clit, and her unwavering Bushido eyes fixed on mine. I couldn't help but think about how wrong this was yet how hot it was.

I moaned loudly. I thrashed and heaved on the bed like. The intense ecstasy that saturated every one of my nerve endings caused my back to arch.

She slid two fingers inside me and pumped them as she continued licking my clit. My pussy clenched her fingers with involuntary contractions. Oh, how wonderful it felt to have her fingers inside me. How wonderful it was to have anyone else beside me doing it, but especially Rika.

I tried my best to muffle the sound by clasping my hand tightly against my mouth (I wasn't sure yet how thick the walls were), but I was still very loud when I came.

Then it was my turn. Even before I gave the dust a chance to settle, and the quakes to finish, I was on top of Rika. I went straight for her breasts, eager to suck on her inordinately large brown nipples. I was met with a surprise when I did.

The first hint was the strange smell. A rich smell. A tangy aura that hovered around her breasts. I didn't make much of it, until I had my mouth wrapped around a hard nipple and sucked. An unexpected fluid flowed out her nipple right into my mouth. Not expecting it, I choked on it and coughed and wheezed. Milk.

I sprang off her. She sat up. There was that mischievous smile again.

"What's wrong, Jen?"

"You're lactating!"

"Yeah," she answered sheepishly, giggling.

"Do you have baby?" I asked, a gutted fear overtaking the shock.

She shook her head with her tongue stuffed into her cheek.

"Nope. No baby. It's induced," she said matter-of-factly, as if it were obvious that she should be.

"It's induced," I repeated, confusion now overtaking the fear.

She nodded her head slowly.

"W-why have you induced lactation?"

"Nope. Not going to say. That's a private matter. You have to earn my trust before I tell you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious? We're both naked on my bed, and I just sucked milk from your tit. Haven't I earned your trust?"

"Not even close."

"Well, um, ok then. What do I got to do to get you to trust me enough to tell me why the hell you're lactating if you don't have a kid?"

"For starters, make me cum."

I smirked. "OK. I think I can do that."

I thought about the taste of her milk. It was the first time I ever had another woman's milk, even including my own mother, who bottle-fed me right from the start. The milk was creamy. It was sweet. I decided that it tasted better than cow's milk. That was disconcerting to me. But maybe it shouldn't be. Is it really all that strange to drink human milk? Any stranger than cow's milk? As exciting as I found Rika to be already, I was more excited by how much more there was for her to find. Despite feeling disconcerted, I enjoyed her milk. So, before embarking on the mission to make her cum, I put my mouth back on her nipple to have another taste of her milk.

A smile of satisfaction grew on Rika's face. The milk pooled into my mouth. It was wonderful tasting. It was hot. I felt the tightening pain of arousal in my pussy. So strange yet so intensely gratifying drinking Rika's milk, watching the pleasure twist her face.

I would have been happy suckling her more. But I needed to go down on her, too. It was time to earn her trust, and discover the mystery to her milky tits, and besides, I was eager to taste her pretty little pussy.

Her pussy was hot and wet. She had a bush trimmed like a lawn. A black triangle neatly covering her mound. I parted her lips with two fingers in a V to get to her clit. She clasped her hands against my head and pulled me into her. The sharp taste of her sex entered my mouth to mix with the rich taste of her milk left lingering on my tongue.

"Yes, Jen. Just like that, she moaned."

It had been so long since I've had sex, but eating pussy wasn't exactly rocket science. A gentle persistent pressure of tongue against clit accompanied by kisses, sucking on the labia, and a bit of penetrating of the vagina with the finger if the mood calls for it. Curl the finger to rub the tip against the g-spot. Keep licking. That's all. Easy as pie.

"Oh yes!" Rika cried. I kept my rhythm in sync with the motions of her hip. The faster she moved, the faster I licked, the wetter her pussy became. Her muscles tightened around my finger, her clit grew plump like a ripe fruit, until,

"Fuck!"

Rika arched her back and convulsed as she exploded, making a mess on my face.

As pleased as I was of making her cum so hard, my only thought now was that I did as she asked, so now I get to find out the mystery of her induced lactation. I was eager to dive deeper into her depths.

After a few minutes of silent cuddling, we showered together and made out some more in the shower. Afterwards, we lay in bed clutching each other, staring into the blankness of my city light-illuminated ceiling, our hands languidly grazing each other's skin. It was on the cusp of sleep that I remembered her milky tits.

"So, are you going to tell me now?"

"No."

"No?"

"You still haven't earned it. Not even close."

"Didn't I make you cum?"

"Yes, but like I said, that's only the start. You still need to prove your worth. I still need to know I can trust you."

"Prove my worth? You make it sound like I'm pledging into a sorority."

She cocked her head. "Pledging into a what?"

"It's a thing we do in college in the States. Never mind. What, pray tell, do I need to do to 'prove my worth'?"

She gave me a crinkle-nosed smile. There was a fiery glee in her eyes that made me tense.

"Not sure you'd be up for it," she said teasingly, her eyes wandering innocently to the ceiling.

"Of course, I am. What do you mean by that?"

"I don't think you're kinky enough to do what you need to do, is all I'm saying."

That challenge piqued my interest. If there was anything that could get me going, it was a challenge. She might have been right, though. I'm pretty plain Jane when it comes to sex. I couldn't think of anything I've done that was kinkier than a light spanking. And that was really pushing it for me. Her assertion that I wasn't kinky enough made me somewhat frightened of the possible reasons for her lactating. But besides being frightened, I was also fascinated and turned on by it. I had never been with a lactating woman before. I was also offended that she'd have the gall to say I wasn't kinky enough, which sounded a hell of a lot like I wasn't good enough. Me? Not good enough? Hah, I beg to differ. I'm always good enough.

"I can be kinky," I said.

"Oh really? What are your kinks?" She sounded skeptical. She called my bluff.

I swallowed nervously. My head rushed with possible answers to the question. Truthfully, I didn't know. But I had to give an answer.

"Sexy underwear," I blurted.

She snorted a laugh. "Sexy underwear?"

"Um yeah. That's kinky... no?"

"Sure," she said skeptically. "But you'll have to get a lot kinkier than that if you want to know any of my dirty secrets."

"Oh? Ok, I get what you mean by proving my worth, then. You're going to give me a kink test."

"I can see why Takahiro likes you. You're very sharp. Yes, kink test. That's a good word for it. I'll give you a kink test. If you pass the test, then I'll tell you everything you want to know about me."

Tests I can do. Tests I've always been good at. SATs, GMATs, CPA licensing exams, whatever it was, I was always up for the challenge. No reason why I couldn't pass this one with flying colors, either.

That voice in the back of my head sounded off with a warning. "Remember Jen, she's your boss's secretary," said the voice. But right now, I was in the mindset to ignore the voice. I was already in her warm arms, and after being so long without touch, without bonding with anyone, in such a lonely city, I wanted, no, Ineeded to be with Rika.

"Tell me what I need to do," I said.

"Are you really up for it?"

"Sure, why not?"

She pressed her breasts into mine. I could feel how full of milk they were. Her nipples grazed against mine. So torturously pleasant they were.

She read the desire in my eyes.

"You really liked my milk, didn't you Jen?"

"To be honest, yeah. It tasted very good actually. I wasn't expecting that."

Her grin grew.

"Soon, I will give you the test. Then, as a reward, I might let you have some more milk."

Rika left in the morning after we enjoyed a light breakfast and coffee together on my sunny terrace. The whole of the following week, I didn't talk to her except for work-related stuff. Certainly, I wouldn't be the one to broach the subject of the 'test' at work. But neither, it seemed, would she.

After the height of unrestrained ecstasy of that night with her, we had settled back into the routine of professionalism like the Amish returning from their Rumspringa. The hot sex was nice, but we had a reality to pay heed to, so all the better that nothing came of our little pillow talk. Still I couldn't stop fantasizing about the tests Rika might put me against. Fantasies fed my excitement. Fantasies invaded my thoughts, and I had to constantly fend them off while I worked. Even if there weren't any tests, I still wanted Rika.

Her desk was stationed outside Takahiro's office, on the opposite corner from mine. My office was a fishbowl. The glass partition was frosted above head level when I sat at my desk, offering privacy. But when I stood, I could spot Rika sitting at her desk, often working diligently. I took plenty of stretching breaks to catch a glimpse of her, wondering how often, if ever, she thought of me. But I never caught her glancing my way.

Every night, when I was alone, I was tempted to text her, ask her for a drink or dinner, or go dancing. But I didn't give in to that temptation. I just couldn't. I was a partner after all. And this was my dream job. I couldn't let an illicit office fling ruin what I had worked so hard to get.

The second week after our night together, and only shortly after my interest in Rika had started the aching process of waning away, she started the ball rolling. And by ball, I mean giant boulder.

At 8 am, Monday morning, I emerged from the elevator with an Americano in hand. It was a gloomy day. Rika was already at her desk. She smiled as she greeted me like she always did to everyone who passed by. That smile did nothing to foreshadow what I would find when I arrived at my desk.

Resting atop my keyboard was an A4-sized manila envelope. It was addressed to me. The 'From:' line was blank.

It was one of the courier envelopes we used to deliver paperwork to each other, often when a document needed a signature. Nothing out of the ordinary, though it was strange not to see the sender's name. Perhaps they had simply forgotten. It was bulky, so contained in it, not the usual paperwork but an object. I had never seen that before. Curiously, I unsealed the envelope and pulled out a thin black leather collar.