tagBDSMThe Training of Kiva

The Training of Kiva


The white, worn, low sofa stood beneath the wide window. The window overlooked the apartment complex courtyard with many handrails and fences circling around a deeply blue swimming pool with a red brick rim. The neighbor stood halfway in the apartment. She was low and round with many bulges. She looked a bit like an old gnarled tree trunk in a distant desert, where the harsh wind and sand had kept it from growing up. Her skin color was deeply red and brown. She was breathing heavily and smiling intent on making a good impression.

"Hi neighbor, how are you? Yes, beautiful day. My daughter turned eighteen today. Please, come to party this evening. We need man to celebrate."

The girl just outside the doorway moved side to side. She was tall and gangly with her soccer socks in blue with white rims all the way up to her knee. The fluttered soccer shorts were around her hip. Her long dark brown hair fell down her back.

"My ma is inviting you over for my birthday party. Because we immigrated by ourselves, my dad is no longer with us. She would like to have a man present, so that we can do our traditional coming of age rites. We are desert people from Mexico. We are from the countryside."

"Yes, sure, I will be there. It would be my pleasure."

Later, in the evening, he walked across the court yard. Their apartment door was in the corner next to a dirt patch of dried plants and rubble. He stared at the worn blue paint, as he waited for the party noises in the inside to respond to his doorbell ring. The door opened to a warm room with many bodies sitting around and moving. Photos were on the wall. Relatives or friends were sitting on the couch and chairs. Food was piled in a calico assortment of plastic containers with half removed aluminum foil and saran wrap. Two particularly old and gray haired women were pushing around little dumplings in a pan, while debating. Her little brother was sitting on a patch of thick carpet on the floor toying around with a cell phone. Her mother came running like a duck. Her upper body wobbled softly, while her legs moved like mad. She hugged and kissed me on the cheek.

"So, wonderful that you came, mister! Try cake!"

The daughter was standing in the distance by herself leaning against the wall. She looked at him with a long glance. She was wearing a long t-shirt and a tiara. Her arms were wrapped around her chest. The breasts were quite unpronounced in the oversize clothes.

The cake was a layer of brown fluffy crust interrupted by white layers of cream. A shiny red sugar pipeline wound around the top of the cake: "Happy Birthday -- 18 -- Kiva." A green plastic fork was put on the paper plate as well. Spanish rice was boiling in a large pot. One of the two old women pointed at chicken in the oven and made 'ma -- ma -- ma' sounds.

He ended up on the couch next to a cousin with a very green blouse and stiff skirt. The skirt would stand up a little and flash the shoes standing at the door. There were laces falling down on each sides of a shoe running into opposite directions on the floor. There was a healed slip-in shoe with worn surface that had a brown color that obviously belonged to one of the elder women. There was a black shiny leather boot with strings slowly rising up woven through dozens of tight eyelets. It was like out of a fantasy dream. Finding out the true wearer would surely disappoint.

The cousin talked about the latest Mexican soap opera. He started feeling uncomfortable and out of place. When the mother noticed it, she brought over a shot glass of liquor made from a desert cactus. It tasted clear. It burned. It had a hint of a novel taste that must be unique to that cactus. The mother left him with the cousin.

"So, you are really going to do it. Respect! Deep respect! Do you know anything about our people? No? You are crazy! Well, we are people of the desert in Mexico. In a very remote place is a strong river. The river is dry on the surface and runs underneath the ground. If you follow it, you will come to a very tall waterfall. The water falls down steep and smooth sandstone. The rock forces the water over ground. Many adventurers have died vainly attempting to climb up. That's why we have been safe for many centuries until the first helicopter landed on top."

"Above the waterfall is place so beautiful like paradise. There are trees, bushes, and many fruits. The water is clear and has tasty fish. The water has carved caves into the rock. Those caves are the houses for our tribe. Can you imagine, getting up and having fresh food simply for the picking. We had so much free time. Some people would play. Some people would create art. Heck, some people made alcohol and were drunken bastards. The thing that our people are most famous for are ceremonies. It requires a lot of creativity to come up with the symbolism and rites. Oh, am I boring you? You will find out!"

The mother brought over her daughter and a photo album. The daughter sat down on the armrest next to him. She folded open the photo album. A photo of a sports team mascot smothering her followed a clam girl sitting in the corner of rowing boat in an apparently cold ocean. He remembered her when she first moved on. She was one of the older kids. As the days passed, she started getting womanly curves. She started standing taller over her mother. She started sitting behind the steering wheel of the family car. It is funny when you look at little girls. It is so hard to imagine that they may one day become sexually eager women in rubber skirts with whips, tyrannical bosses, or dumb helpless overweight wastes of space.

"My ma will take you soon to start the ritual. We don't have much space here. It will be in the bathroom. The old women speak no English. They may not be able to explain you what will happen. Understand, that the traditions are a bit weird for an American. We are indebted to you to come as a man. Oh, my father died on the way to America. Or, we think that he did. We never heard from him again. Only the women succeeded with the journey. Please, don't think weird of me."

Her mother appeared. She took my hand and led us to the bathroom. The two old women were sitting on the floor Indian style. They were seemingly discussing the lighting. A few tea lights were flickering shadows on the white wall. The washing counter was filled with cosmetic bottles. Their shades were jumping around. The daughter was sitting on the toilet seat with her knees together and the feet spread out. Her mother looked at him intently.

"We sing. We initiate you. We bless Kiva with adulthood."

The old women and mother started singing. The older of them with the blue sweater spat a huge one in her hand. She started spreading the spit in a circle over her palm. She hesitated for a moment. Then she smacked him on the cheek. He was startled and embarrassed. The mother pleaded. The second old woman smacked him the same. The daughter told him that they were exorcising any spirits that he may have, so that he was pure for the ritual.

The oldest woman got up now. She pulled the worn pink socks with cotton dots off the daughter's feet. Her t-shirt went over her head and lifeless arms. She was wearing a dark blue bra that pushed her young boobs into a round shape. They pulled down her pants to reveal the tight fighting panties with ribbons on the side. He was too afraid to say something wrong or miss out on seeing more of this. He froze. She did nothing as her bra was unhooked and dropped down her front. The goose bumps around her nipple betray her apathy. Her panties went down. They revealed a young smooth pussy. She shaved. There was some white sap between her intimate lips.

Black sharpies were grabbed from the bathroom counter. The woman started drawing on her body: a teddy bear, a lollypop, a children's bicycle. He motioned to another sharpie pen. His mind was feverish to get a chance to touch the young naked skin. She was in a bit of trance from all the touch.

"No, you can't. You have to wait. They are drawing the symbols of childhood. You will draw the symbols of womanhood."

The six hands let her to the bathtub. A big dollop of bubble gel from the 99 cent store brought a warm scent into the room. She lay in the water. Her arms were wrapped tight to her body to fit into the tub. Her knees and boobs broke above the water's surface. The six hands of the women joined her in the water. Hands were massaging the sharpie off her thighs. Another hand rubbed the Winnie the Pooh of her forehead. She looked solemnly at the ceiling. They got her out and rubbed her down friskily with a thick towel.

"Now, it is your turn to mark me for womanhood. Please, my ma makes me do this. You have to draw fertility symbols. Draw a penis on my stomach."

He rested his hand on her stomach. Her navel was an innie. He could feel the smooth skin under his hand, as the pen glided to create a crude penis with two balls under it. The idea of defacing a young girl with such symbols gave him a strong hard on. People in the room must have smelled the musk smell from his erection. Yet, nobody said anything. He was shaking a bit. He looked down at her snatch to see, how the outer lips were hiding the inner lips like in a young body. He drew a short skirt and high heels on her chest. As his hand moved, he touched on her nipples. She inhaled and shivered a bit. He drew the outline of lips to suggest a kiss on her side. He reached down to her moist feet. He held them looking at their sexy shape, before he drew a tampon on it. He drew a belly with a baby inside on the side of her groin. He could feel the V that the groin forms. He could feel the bubbles or knots under her skin. His left hand was hovering over her pussy as he stretched the skin taught for him to draw with the right.

"I didn't think that you would go this far. The women will not stop. They still believe in tradition."

The mother jumped up and hugged and kissed him profusely in gratitude.

"You come back tomorrow to continue."

The next day, his heart was pounding. The blue door with the worn paint seemed to wobble in front of him. He was intrigued by the young naked girl that he saw last night. He was afraid about the unusual nature of the encounter. He loved the ways that these people found it normal to show him a naked eighteen year old. He was afraid that he may do something wrong according to these different rules and get in trouble. The mother opened the door as warm, friendly, and enthusiastic as when she had given him a Happy Valentine's heart oblivious of the lover meaning of the holiday.

"Today, Kiva learn to be with man. She grew up with women. She needs to learn, what is like to live with man. For one day, you two will be together. Don't take opportunity and kiss or sex her."

"Ma is saying that on the first day of womanhood, the women of our tribe learn, how man hunt and what they smell like. In our age, it means that you'll take me around to watch baseball, repair cars, or whatever you normally do. We get to sleep in the same room, so that I can smell, what a man smells like at night. Don't try to do anything funny. We are very open people. However, you are not to think that you can kiss me or have your way with me."

He contemplated, if it was a gift to have a hot young girl with him or a curse tempting him horribly? How, had she become hot? She used to be a kid. She used to be a neighbor. Seeing her naked last night and touching her had turned him on. It had raised her in his eyes.

The mother gently reached for his left hand. She raised it. She reached onto the table. She handcuffed him to the girl. He was dazed. The daughter looked at the floor. The mother shoved him out of the door: "Do what you normally do. Ignore her." The daughter staggered behind them drawn by her arm.

The worn blue door was shut again in front of him. Everything was exactly as it had been five minutes ago, expect for an eighteen year old girl chained to his wrist.

"Do you want to grab a coffee?"

"No, remember, this is for me to learn, what it is like to be around a man. A coffee would be entertaining me. Do what you normally do!"

"Honestly, I can't think like that about what I normally do on a Saturday. Maybe, go to the gym."

"Let's go."

She was happily bouncing up and down at his chain, as they walked down the concrete sidewalk past the houses with the pretty plants. He could not figure out how to drive a car with Kiva being chained to his left side. So, they walked. His mood lifted having her around. There was excitement in the air. He got to show her something. Every glance at her showed him youth, woman, beauty, boobs, legs, feet, smiles, cheeks. It made him happy. He almost started singing.

"Whatever rocks your boat! Just don't try the treadmill. It's too easy for you two to knock each other down," said the gym attendant.

Luckily, Venice is an eclectic playground. Wearing hand cuffs in public is only as odd as the bald guy in a full body spandex suit yelling at this client to push one more time. It is as odd as the girls in the group exercise room in lingerie practicing pole dance moves to empower themselves.

It was nice to have a companion around. He was lying on his back on a thinly padded bench amidst a chaos of metal arms from fitness machines and mirrors reflecting everything. She leaned forward to softly hold onto the barbell that he was pushing. Her blue t-shirt sacked forward. It created an airspace that would have been large enough for her body twice. He wondered about her breasts. Breasts leaning forward generally hang. The sides become a bit puckered in a sexy way. He wondered how her hanging breast would look like as every fiber in his body exploded to push up the barbell. It felt good to grow his muscles grow thick on his chest and back from the contraction.

They walked over to the stretching area with the dirty mats on the ground. They started doing sideways pushups. He put the free hand behind his neck. He twisted his torso up and to the side. He saw her. He saw her face. She had warmed up on the inside. She was enjoying to move her body. There is this beautiful innocence about young people. They are not made bitter by the world yet. It is like a rare nectar, like a fountain of youth to be around them. She is quiet. She rarely talked. It is like she was lost in her own world. He wanted to spank her butt, her tight young butt. He remembered that he was told not to take advantage.

At home, they were brainstorming in the bathroom. Both of them were sweaty. After the scene last night, getting naked may not be so embarrassing anymore. However, getting the sleeves of the clothing over the cuffs seemed to be a geometrically unsolvable problem. He could have twisted the shirt of his body. However, then it would only be stuck between the two. Another problem was that they needed to pee.

"That's part of the lesson. Let me see you pee. You got to see me naked yesterday."

She opened his pants. He opened the toilet. He reached in to get a hold of his penis. He hesitated until she encouraged him. She squatted next to him. Her lips were soft and pink. Her eyes had dark lashes. She looked at his penis. The shaft was slightly swollen and the head glowed red with air rushing in. She intently looked at the urine streaming out of his penis. He even thought that he caught her licking her lips. They were like a holy triangle. She stared at his penis. He stared at her face holding the soft member in his hands.

She flushed, put the seat down, and squatted on the toilet. Her knees were pressed together as her white panties were rolled a little bit lower in a bunch. She leaned forward clutching a couple sheets of toilet paper in her hand as the hissing stream emptied itself into the toilet bowl. She was so coy.

The rest of the evening passed in laughter like a mirage. They were so in the moment that only later they realized what had happened. They were cooking food together and watching the tele. Only at night, did he start paying attention again. It was dark outside, safe for the courtyard lighting. Everything in the room was pretty clear in black and white. She was still lying on his left biceps. She had found a nice pillow in it. She had insisted that she needed to learn the smell of a man at night. His left arm gave him an idea about the small and light size of her body. She was so tender. She lightly snored. She was a bit smelly in a very mellow way. His penis was ragingly hard from the feeling of her body on his. It was electric. He reached with his other hand for his penis, simply to hold her in one arm and his penis in the other. The firm and stout staff felt good in his hand.

The next morning, sadness was with him as he waited in front of the worn blue door. She was not a friend of his. He knew that all the pleasure of the last two days was only because of the coming of age ritual. He would probably not see her again.

The daughter had disappeared to her room. The mother was overly joyous. He was rubbing the skin irritation on his left wrist. The cousin was there, too. She was wearing a stark blue blouse and leggings with carpet print. It turned out that the lace up black leather boots belonged to her. She was wearing them.

"We are almost family now! Don't worry; our people have very different moral ideas than the prudent religious settlers of this country. The next step is for you to fuck her. Rosa invited me here, because her English would not allow her to explain you well. Now listen, most of you Angelino boys don't have any clue in that department. There are four ways of copulation. You will have to teach her all four of them. Oh, fool, your face tells me that you have no clue."

"Honey" and she grabbed him to lead him to Kiva's room. Kiva was sitting on her bed brushing her hair. The pants were thrown off before the bed. A poster with a boy toy vampire with air brushed muscles hung next to the window. She was still wearing the same white cotton panties.

"Go ahead and kiss her." He moved onto the bed. He felt like he was moving back into a teenage secret room. He put one arm around Kiva. The other touched her cheek. His lips reached for her lower lip. It was a bit sticky from freshly applied lip gloss. He nipped on her lower lip a bit. Then, he reached his tongue in to feel what he would find. After diving through her lips, he found teeth and an elusive tongue. After a bit of moving around, the elusive tongue came forward to gingerly greet his. Her tongue was compact, small, wet, and dart like. He grabbed her whole body now, squeezing his body against her, as his jaw opened wide to get the most mouth. His penis was raging hard. He pressed it against her hip bone. He was so turned on that he did not care anymore about being found out.

"Hey, hey stud, take her top off and start kissing." Kiva raised her arms straight up like a good girl. The t-shirt ended up somewhere in a corner. Her body was like the map for a kingdom. He was excited about exploring it all. He started down her cheeks to her armpits. They were shaved. He was curious, what they smelled and tasted like. He could find her true odors in her armpit. He loved it. He loved her. He went for the breast and nipples. He alternately pinched her nipples with his tensed lips and his teeth. Then, he circled his lips around the areola. He wrapped his lips around her tummy and sucked the air in hard, as she moaned and raked back. His arms glided around her hips to her side and to hold her up, before his head dove back onto her body.

"Oh, ho, you read an article about foreplay in Men's Health. Now, pinch her nipples hard. C'mon, don't be a pussy, pinch harder than that. Yes, harder than even that. Pinch so hard that you think it will hurt. Then, you are starting to get it right. Don't let up, it is simply a foreign sensation." Kiva squealed and twisted. He was biting his lip hard feeling what he assumed was her pain. She paused and her eyes opened: "It actually feels good. I can feel it all the way down to my vagina. Try harder."

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