Rituals

6-4-15

Rituals

Back And Forth

The teakettle on the stove was just on the brink of boiling, little wisps of steam beginning to leak from the spout.

Perfect.

The girl pulled the smaller ceramic teapot out from under the running hot water in the sink and replaced it with his cup, letting it warm while she dried the outside of the pot with a dish towel.

Now she had to move quickly.

Quickly, but carefully. He would be extremely displeased and disappointed if she burned herself or broke something. Especially a piece of his tea service.

There was no time for idle musings now. Everything had to be absolutely perfect. She had to concentrate.

Grasping the handle of the stainless steel kettle with the quilted white linen pot holder, she lifted it and very carefully poured boiling water into the smaller pot, filling it just to the center of the spout. Not a single drop spilled, which made her smile with pride. The kettle went onto a cool burner and the stove was turned off. The linen pot holder was folded carefully and put back in it's place.

One step to the side and she turned off the water, wiped the warm cup dry and placed it on a saucer on the little wooden tray. One more step as her hands went behind her back to untie her apron, pull it up over her head to hang it on the little hook then a quick pat of her hair to make sure there were no loose strands. Her long black luxuriant hair was still secured in it's bun on the back of her head, secured in place with the little wooden sticks.

Just the way he liked it.

One fleeting moment taken to survey the items on the tray. One teapot. Two cups on saucers. Bamboo whisk and tongs. Two tea strainers. Two linen napkins, folded just so.

Everything exactly in it's place.

Perfect.

Her shoulders rose and fell as a breath went in and out with a small huff to calm her mind and find her center. Unconsciously one finger went up to push her glasses further up her nose. Then her hands wrapped around the handles of the tray, lifted it and walked slowly towards the living room. She walked with her eyes forward and her back straight as she had been taught.

He waited as he always did. Silently, with his eyes on her body, a little smile on his lips. Even after all this time... all these months... she felt her cheeks burn just slightly while he looked at her. In all of her twenty two years previous she had never been completely naked in the presence of a man. Not even her father when she was an infant.

Even though it embarrassed her, she felt her nipples grow even harder under his gaze.

Trying her best to concentrate, the girl knelt carefully at the small low table and placed the tray exactly in the center. His cup and saucer went onto the little woven mat and the strainer went into the cup before she tipped the ceramic teapot and poured the water. Eyes on the cup, she counted silently for two minutes before removing the strainer and placing it on a linen napkin. Then she stirred it with the bamboo whisk exactly twelve times.

Two hands underneath the saucer as she turned slightly to offer him his tea. As usual, he sat for a few seconds to look at her before he took the offering. She waited patiently with her eyes down and head slightly bowed. It wasn't something he had taught her or demanded, this subservient posture. The girl sometimes did things her own way for her own reasons and he was more than agreeable.

For one thing, her bowed head and lowered eyes showed her submission to him and her willingness to serve him in any way he wished. Secondly it prevented her from looking into his eyes. Something which, even after a year in his service, she still found difficult.

"Thank you, sweet Nanao. Perfect, as always." After he took his cup she bowed acceptance at his praise and turned to pour her own tea. She used the same steps and timing with her own cup before raising it to her lips.

While they both sat and sipped their tea in silence, she pondered her life as she often did at that time. It was a good quiet interval they shared together three times a week. Though it was not exactly the traditional Japanese tea ceremony, there was something deeply philosophical in the ritual.

It gave Nanao time to think and clear her mind. She could sit and drink her tea and think without distractions.

Even if she was kneeling naked before this strange American man whom she called Master.

He'd been strange from the very first moment they had met and hadn't changed one little bit in the interim.

When she was born Hinami Kurosaki was stricken with a condition called apraxia, which had left her without the ability to form speech. The condition never affected her mind, which grew sharp and strong. Her parents sought out all the treatments they could and when it was determined to be untreatable they turned instead to ways to make their daughter's life happy and complete. At five years old she was enrolled in one of the country's best schools for the deaf where she spent the lions share of her childhood.

Though she wasn't deaf, Hinami learned sign language and discovered the joys of being able to finally communicate her thoughts and feelings with others. It opened up a whole new world she hadn't really imagined and she discovered within herself a treasure trove of emotions which poured from her fingers, both in sign language and in the written word. Poetry and art soon became her passions and she soon won several district prizes for both and had several of her poems published.

Then one day her life changed.

Hinami and her two best friends from school, Yachiru and Rukia, had been out shopping in the local district mall and were in the park drinking hot tea from paper cups watching the snow fall among the trees. Hinami watched her breath form from her lips in the cold crisp winter air and imagined it was the same way she formed words with her hands and her pen. She marveled at how silent the world became when the snow fell and imagined the world must be like that every day for her two best friends who had been born deaf.

Taking out her notebook and pen, she stopped in the middle of the path and began making notes. Her two friends, used to this sort of thing, just smiled and waited until she was finished.

A tap on her shoulder scattered her thoughts and she turned to see who it was, dropping her pen and notebook into the pocket of her winter coat.

At first, all she saw was black leather.

Then she craned her neck upwards to look into the man's face. He was very tall. He was older. Somewhere in the neighborhood of the age of her father, though she couldn't be sure. The man wore big boots and blue jeans and a great leather coat which seemed well worn and comfortable with use. Under a knitted cap he had short graying hair which used to be brown, much like his thick bushy mustache. The most striking thing about him was a pair of bright blue eyes which seemed to be looking all the way into her soul. They were knowing and caring but also commanding at the same time and she found herself unable to meet his gaze. Her eyes dropped immediately though she wasn't really sure why.

"Excuse me, miss." The man spoke in English with a definite American accent. "My name is Alex Cable." She bobbed a bow at him and ended up looking at his extended hand. Yes, Americans did shake hands... When she put her small hand in his to shake he covered it with his other and held on for just a moment. She tried to spell out her name with her other hand but it seemed to be shaking badly...

Large rough but gentle fingers came up under her chin and tilted her face back up to his. Something about hose eyes made her feel funny. Warm inside and tingly all down her tummy and in between her legs, which made her blush and want to turn away to hide her face.

"I have read all of your poetry. It is amazing. You stir my soul with your words." She tried to get her hand free to reply but what he said next sent her mind reeling. "You are the most incredibly beautiful and talented woman I have ever met. I would like very much to make you my wife."

Hinami had been technically speechless all of her life. But his words left her mind and her fingers numb and unable even to stammer. Behind her, the girl could hear her friends giggling. They were both quite adept at reading lips.

Then he did something even more startling.

Still holding on to her little hand in his large one, the man went down to one knee in front of her. She heard her friends gasp.

"Hinami Kurosaki, I have seen your heart and your dreams in your words and I will make them all come true."

He turned her hand over, placed something in her palm and curled her fingers closed, giving her only a small glimpse of some shiny object. Then he kissed her fingers, that brushy mustache tickling her skin.

"When I make you my bride it will make us both happy until the end of our days." It wasn't a question. He stated it as a fact.

The strange man released her hand and stood, one hand waving towards a park bench nearby.

"Come to this place tomorrow afternoon. 3pm. We will speak again."

Then he turned and walked away into the falling snow. She watched until he disappeared.

Yachiru and Rukia gathered around, their fingers chattering.

"Who was that man? Do you know him?"

"Will you marry him?"

"What did he give you?"

Hinami slowly opened her fingers, remembering there was something in her hand. It was a small silver ring. On closer inspection she saw it had tiny little chrysanthemums etched into the metal around it. It was beautiful.

Stunned but feeling a little daring, she slipped the ring onto her finger.

It fit her perfectly.

Nanao smiled to herself, hiding it behind the wisps of steam rising from her cup. She never came right out and told him directly how crazy he made her. Especially in those first few days. He had put her in such a spin she barely knew what to think.

A quick glance sideways allowed her to see him watching her, as he always did. That little smile on his lips. Even on the rare occasions when she was wearing clothes in his presence he never seemed to tire of looking at her.

He made her feel special and beautiful.

He also made her want to play the role of the dutiful and obedient wife.

More than just play the role. To live it. To be it. To give herself utterly and submit to this man who had dominated her from the first second they had met.

It was why she loved him so.

Another glance in his direction. The smile was still there, grown a bit wider and making his mustache curl up on the sides.

When they were done with their tea and she had cleaned up and put things away, he would be wanting her again. Nanao could see enough of her Master's mind enough to read his expressions and body language. Just knowing he wanted her... would take her as he wished... made her whole body tingle and grow warmer with desire.

What she didn't know was where and how. Whether he would lead her (or carry her over his shoulder) to their bed, or have her sitting atop him in his big wide recliner, or bent over the dining room table or even right there on the kitchen floor, it didn't matter.

The choice was totally his and his alone.

Another reason Nanao was totally dedicated to the man she called Master.

Back

Rituals and traditions. Hinami had been raised with them as an infant and they carried through all of her life, forming the foundation of her entire existence. It was something she could always count on to be there if she desired stability in her life.

Her father was a Shinto priest and took his work quite seriously, tending to the gods and the spirits and well being of the people in their district. Both the living and those who had passed on before. The eldest male of the family taking this as his calling was a family tradition which went back many generations. Even if he wasn't working at the temple, he could often be found before the little shrine in their home, head bowed in prayer or contemplation.

As soon as his daughter was old enough to understand, he sat her in his lap in front of the shrine and told her how the spirits were always smiling down and looking out for her and how important it was to thank them properly for their care and the good fortune they caused in their lives. Each time before leaving the house she prayed for them to keep watch over her and after each time she returned she thanked them for their diligence.

Each and every time, without fail.

Even if she was born without the ability to speak, Hinami loved her life and was grateful of every day and the opportunities she was afforded.

One of the traditions her parents had was thirty minutes before dinner was set aside to discuss the events and happenings of the day. To facilitate being able to communicate effectively with their daughter, Father had remodeled the kitchen so Mother could look into the dining room while she cooked. Hinami sat on one side of the table facing the kitchen. Father at the head of the table as was proper, and her younger brother Toshiro on the other side.

On this particular day, Mother noticed right away something was preying on her daughter's mind. The girl sat quietly with her hands in her lap, looking down at the table. Mother tapped on the side of the pan with a wooden spoon to get her attention.

"Hina-chan... tell me what is wrong." The girl sighed.

"A very strange thing happened this afternoon." All of them could read her sign language and they could all see her movements were unsure. Even Toshiro could tell she was disturbed and set aside his cell phone to pay attention. He was sixteen and fiercely protective and proud of his older sibling.

"A man approached me in the park and asked me to marry him. No.. wait.." She waved away her words as if they were smoke. "He didn't ask me. He told me he was going to marry me." Both Father and Toshiro frowned at his bold move.

"Did this man... accost you, daughter?" She shook her head.

"No, Papa-San. He was very polite. He did... hold my hand... but not by force. He was quite gentle and proper."

"Who was this bold man? What did he say, Hina? Do you know him? What did he look like?" They all spoke at once until Mama rapped on the side of the pot again, bringing them to a halt. While Mama generally deferred to her husband in all things, when it came to her daughter she was as protective as a she-bear over a cub.

"What did this man say to you?"

"He held my hand, went down on one knee and said: "I have read all of your poetry. It is amazing. You stir my soul with your words." Then he said: "You are the most incredibly beautiful and talented woman I have ever met. I would like very much to make you my wife."

"Then he gave me a ring." Mama raised an eyebrow. Toshiro made a snort of disbelief.

"He probably says the same thing to every girl he meets."

Papa held out his hand. "Let me see this ring, daughter." She pulled it from her finger and laid it in his palm. He held it between his thumb and forefinger and brought it close. Then he reached down to get his reading glasses from where they hung down the front of his kimono.

"I recognize this work. It's from Mr Yamamoto's shop in Rukon! Very expensive. Three hundred thousand yen or more!" He was astonished. His eyes squinted. "And see! There is an inscription on the inside. Shiro, your eyes are younger. Read it to us."

Hinami was startled. In her confusion, she had never thought to look inside. Her brother squinted and leaned into the light.

"All of my heart for my beautiful doll forever. Love, Alex." The words made her own heart skip a beat. Mama frowned again.

"Lovely words. And quite a present. But who is this man?" Hinami had to think back.

"He said his name was Alex Cable. An American, I'm pretty sure. He was quite tall and quite a bit older than I am. Most of his hair was gray."

At the mention of the name, Toshiro set the ring down in the center of the table and pulled out his phone. He began typing and swiping pages back and forth. The girl looked at the ring laying there and thought about what it represented. She also found herself really wanting to grab it and slip it back on her finger, which startled her somewhat. Just thinking about wearing the ring again made her tingle warmly inside.

"American all right." Her brother muttered. "Artist of some sort. Works in wood and metals..." He turned the phone this way and that reading and looking at pictures. The expression on his face went from dubious to almost admiring. "Some very good stuff... quite expensive... semi famous..." Both of his eyebrows crawled up his forehead. "Quite rich. You could do worse."

"Father..." Mama sounded concerned. "We need to meet this man before this goes any farther." Papa nodded sagely.

"I am to meet him again in the park tomorrow afternoon." Hinami said.

Toshiro set down his phone and announced. "I will go with you."

While nobody was looking, she snagged the silver circlet and put it back around her finger. Once again she was astonished the way it made her tingle all the way down between her thighs.

That evening she climbed out of the bath and dried herself off then wrapped her body in her towel to go to bed. Hinami usually used her time in the bath for reflection but this evening she seemed too distracted to really enjoy it. Her meeting with the American was bubbling through her mind and the thought of meeting him again had her both nervous and aroused, which made her blush.

Such an older man....

Such a big older man...

Who dominated her so naturally...

Whole she wasn't able to form words, Hinami could still make sounds. A sigh of desire fell from her lips. Under the sheets, one hand passed over her small breasts and she could feel her nipples hard and tingling at her own touch. She pinched them lightly and the sigh turned into a moan. Her other hand crept down over her belly.

While she imagined the big man laying atop her body taking her, one finger slipped in between her pussy lips and rubbed lightly. The moan got briefly louder before she stifled it between her teeth.

The thought of dedicating her life to that man brought her to her peak faster than she would have imagined.

Alone in her bed, Hinami really wished she could have said his name out loud as she thrashed and whimpered in joy.

Before she dropped off into a satiated slumber, the girl raised her hand and spelled out his name in the air.

"Alex."

Forth

So... warm...

So... full...

So... happy...

Nanao sat astride her Master's hips with his big prick stretching her pussy to it's limits. Master was so big and filled her up so much she often had difficulty breathing, as if he were displacing her insides and pushing them up out of her mouth.

Her whole body throbbed and tingled all over beneath the sheen of sweat and her long hair clung wetly to her back as she lowered her head and panted weakly. She had lost track of how many times she had reached her peak, just washing along with them over and over again like a loose piece of seaweed caught in the tides. So worn out her hands ceased to tug at the soft cords which held them behind her back.

His hands had left her breasts and traveled down to her hips long minutes ago as he had gripped her tightly and thrust up into her body but she could still feel the imprint of his fingers on her tender flesh. Her nipples ached and throbbed from his rough touch.

Master was often rather rough with her while they were making love. Sometimes rougher than she really wanted, but he never hurt her. Sure, he often left her sore and aching, but it was almost always aching in a good and contented way. When they were done Nanao was left with absolutely no doubt in her mind who she belonged to. Who owned her mind, body, heart and soul.

Who her Master was.

And who she loved.