***
This story belongs to a series that explores Tokyo locations as settings for BDSM stories.
In particular, this is set in the Ohta ward, just out of the most central areas of the city.
However, the name of the pond is fictional and is an homage to the AV actress Kawakami Yuu.
***
Mutsuki passed a finger between her neck and the leather burgundy red choker - a dog collar, really, that her owner had bought for her as a birthday present.
When he ordered her to wear it, straight away, in the crowded restaurant, at lunchtime, she had felt all eyes on her.
She had continued to blush while they walked in the busy Omotesando streets, avoiding meeting the eyes of the other passersby; yet the collar made her proud, proud that he had bothered to claim her as his own.
Now she knew that people didn't care or know, conveniently classifying the collar as a fashion statement.
The same was true for the beige Uniqlo trenchcoat she was wearing now, perhaps too light for the winter season, but wasn't normal to see bare-legged girls, the short skirt hidden below?
At least her legs were covered by sheer, black stockings.
She arrived at the train station, crossed the street, and immediately saw the Kawakamiike pond, just as he had said.
She took the street by the library and continued walking by the side of the shores.
Even at dusk, the park was busy. Mothers were returning home, after having taken little children for a stroll in the pram, young women around her age were walking their little dogs, some chatting.
She found easily the meeting point, and then waited, her hands on the wooden banister, looking at the pond's black waters blurring into the shadows of the cherry and pine trees, and then into the anthracite sky, where the yellow full moon and the white artificial lights of the lampstands and house lights broke the darkness.
Only some distant hushed voices and the sound of steps walking on pebbles broke the silence.
With her intent, expressionless face, she could seem just like any other person, taking a walk in the evening to relax after a busy day at school, at work, or home.
How this was far from reality excited her...her anticipation was so intense that she had to control herself not to tremble.
Finally, she felt a hand slipping below the coat and grabbing one of her naked buttocks, claiming his possession.
"Good evening" he whispered - "Good evening Sir" she answered smiling, closing her eyes, as his other hand unfastened one of the coat's buttons and slipped below, to cup her breasts and pinch one of the thick nipples.
"Come" he whispered again, and finally she turned to him, and looked at him passively, as he took a steel chain leash and attached it to the collar.
The silver leash shined in the night. Was it safe? What if somebody saw her, led by the leash, like a dog?
She still asked herself this type of questions and admittedly took her thrills out of them, inexplicably exhilarated at the idea that strangers could see how submissive she was to him.
It was just a moment of absence; yet enough for him to recall her by pulling the leash.
"Let's go," he said, and after a moment of unbalance she followed him closely so that a stranger could barely see that he was leading her by the leash, and anybody could mistake them for a standard couple.
When they reached it, she looked with curiosity at the public toilet. It was a small building, which looked like a small hut, with the usual separate entrances for men and women, in this case, they led to a small pathway running parallel to the two areas, the pathway separated from the exterior by a simple fence.
He stopped just before entering it and faced her.
The thumb of the hand that held the leash penetrated her mouth, while the other hand unfolded her pussy lips, ascertaining her wetness. She sucked the finger eagerly, until he slipped it out, while the other hand left her vagina, leaving her disappointed.
He tugged the leash again and led her into the toilet's man space.
Inside the neon light was white and strong and she couldn't help to think that the authorities used the brightness, that couldn't hide anything, to avoid that perverts, used the place for their wicked games; yet it hadn't worked for them.
"Sorry for the smell," he said smiling - she shook the head, signaling she didn't mind the male pee's smell coming from the urinals - "Take off your coat" he ordered soon after, and she started unfastening the remaining buttons, quietly but swiftly - the thought that any man could enter the space, or that even a woman could take a peek through the pathway barely registered.
When she finished, she waited for the next order, not taking anything for granted, a strip of flesh showing from her neck to the cleavage, to her flat stomach, to the hair on the mound, to the shaved plump nether lips.
"Give me the coat" he ordered, and she handed it to him, so that she remained naked, hands on her sides to give him an obstructed view, the stockings stopping at half thigh, under the unforgiving bright light.
Like so many other times, he examined her body without hurry, as if they were in a hotel or a private house's room.
Like so many other times she desperately wanted him to like what he saw.
She could see his eyes on her small tits, that she wished could be larger, on her thick brown nipples, which protruded so easily through a T-shirt if she didn't wear a bra.
Then he looked at her trunk - she knew she was slim, but she hoped her waist could be a little thinner, enhancing the feminine curve of her waist.
Finally, he stopped to look at her pussy, who, she knew, betrayed her like the shameless whore she was.
She hoped he could forgive her for being such a slut: but how different could it be, with her plump, large labia, easily moistened by her own juices?
There was no point in disguising it, and that's why he wanted them shaven, to avoid any concealment and to give her the extra thrills of rubbing raw against the panties' fabric or feeling directly the breeze when she was pantiless.
"Squat now"
She obeyed again, the urine smell stronger as she got closer to the ground.
With his foot he opened her thighs wider, as much as she could stretch them, forcing her to hold them with her hands to keep her balance.
Her pussy was fully opened now like a blossomed flower, the entrance hole visible through the flesh foldings.
He rubbed his leather shoe against her pussy and she felt she could cum any moment.
Yet she resisted because of course only by his explicit permission she was allowed to cum.
He retracted the shoe, shining with her juices.
He smiled and she smiled back, and then he rubbed the other shoe against the pussy.
Through the excitement, the cold of the night had started to descend on her.
Her nipples had become icy, hard, and painful.
Waves of cold went through her body, stopping only around her aroused sex.
He retracted the other shoe and then asked: "Do you want to cum?"
"Yes Sir!" she answered eagerly.
"Touch your clit then!"
"Yes Sir!" she answered while rushing to stimulate herself.