'Masutā' means 'Master' in Japanese. I own a beautiful old stately home in rural Japan. To my servants I am their Masutā.
First let me tell you a little about myself and how I came to own this house. I'm English and in my late thirties. Ten years ago, I started a tech company that was a runaway success. But work took its toll, I had worked 80-hour weeks for over a decade and felt completely burned out. Also, I had to accept that the company had grown too big for me to handle. I appointed a top management team and a new CEO to run the company for me and I decided to take a break.
I was still young, very rich and suddenly had time on my hands. I decided to 'backpack' around the world with my then girlfriend. I say 'backpack', but I was probably one of the world's richest backpackers; It was first class flights, top hotels and Michelin stared restaurants all the way.
Being in very close proximity with someone for weeks on end and living out of suitcases, would put a strain on any relationship. It became obvious that although she was attractive, my girlfriend wasn't a very nice person, that we had nothing in common and that she only wanted to be with me for my money.
My pet hate about her was that when we were in a restaurant, she would insist on ordering something not on the menu. It was a pathetic power trip; she would bully the waiters as they tried to give her what she wanted and when they did, she would complain and gripe anyway. She was embarrassing to be with and I'm sure the waiters were spitting in my food as well!
We had made it across Europe, India and Thailand and had started our tour of Australia. However, everything came to a head during a very acrimonious row in Sydney.
I had tried rekindling our relationship with a romantic evening, flowers, jewellery, a lovely meal, and a tour Sydney harbor on a private yacht. Later in our hotel room I thought that we were making love, to discover that only I was really involved! We were having sex and I was behind her. When I glanced over her shoulder, I saw that she was more interested in flicking through Hello magazine. Not good for my ego and it finally proved to me that this relationship was going nowhere.
I continued in first class to Japan, and, rather vindictively, I sent her packing back to the UK flying 'cattle' class.
---
I was on my own but determined to continue with my adventure. I fell in love with Japan as soon as I arrived.
Tokyo was huge and impressive, the Manga district was crazy, the food was great, and I found the people reserved but welcoming.
I journeyed around the usual tourist destinations such as Kyoto and Osaka, but I wanted to go off the beaten track as well. I journeyed to Takayama region, situated in the 'Japanese Alps' and fell in love with the beauty of the area, its preserved traditional houses, narrow streets, and old-world charm.
I stayed in Japan for much longer than I had intended. I was enjoying the country so much that I was in no hurry to continue my around the world trip. So, I investigated renting a villa for a few months.
I visited a couple of estate agents and saw some properties for rent. Then I noticed in an estate agent's window, the details of a beautiful traditional Japanese manor house and gardens. It wasn't for rent it was for sale, but on impulse I asked to visit it anyway.
I loved the place immediately; it was a large and very impressive traditional house built around a courtyard garden or 'Roji'. The structure had graceful gently curved sloping wooden shingle roofs with overhanging eaves. The outer walls were made of strong wooden beams. It had great views of the hills and mountains and the whole house was set several acres of meticulously maintained gardens. There were manicured bushes and trees, a lake filled with huge golden coy, little bridges and temples and even a Zen Garden.
The old man who owned it had died a few months before. His only living relatives lived in Tokyo and wanted to get rid of it. It required a large staff to run and, being a very old and historic building, had the potential to be a total 'money pit'. However, I had more than enough money, so I brought it.
---
I remember the first day I walked up the house as its new owner. The staff were all there to greet me, standing in line and bowing deeply. My Japanese was poor, and I found it a very hard language to learn. The staff who worked at the house spoke only a little English. I rather optimistically hoped that I could get by using translation apps until my Japanese language skills improved.
There were eight gardeners, a handyman and a cook all of whom lived in the local village. There were also three women who lived in the servants' quarters in house itself; Yui and Kaori were very beautiful young maids, and the housekeeper Moriko was an attractive woman in her thirties.
The women were all dressed smartly in navy blue robes. They looked a bit like the robes of a geisha but knee length and more practical. All the women wore their hair in a traditional Japanese bun, pinned up with long rigid hair pins and a row of small lotus flowers above one ear. They all looked very pretty and feminine.
Everyone was very welcoming and friendly except for the housekeeper Moriko, she looked angry. She didn't make any attempt to hide her disgust that her beloved home was being taken over by some lumbering 'foreign devil'.
I toyed with the idea of dismissing Moriko as I didn't want any conflict spoiling my new house. But I read her employment file and found out that she had lived here for her entire life. Her mother had been a maid at the house and Moriko had been brought up here.
I took pity on her and decided to make the best of having her around. I also quickly realized that she was crucial to the running of the household and would be very hard to replace. This change couldn't be easy for her, and I hoped that she would mellow towards me over time.
---
I settled in over the next few days, enjoying my new surroundings. It was such a calm and idyllic place to be, that I felt the stresses of the last decade melting away. I tried to embrace the local way of life, enjoying the local cuisine and culture. In the evenings I even started relaxing in the traditional robes that someone had thoughtfully placed in my wardrobe.
One thing that I thought a little odd was that at exactly 9pm each evening, one of the maids would come into the little reception room outside my master bedroom, kneel submissively and ask me if they could please me?
I assumed that the odd turn of phrase was due to their poor English, and that they were just asking me if I wanted a drink or something before bed. When I declined, they left without a word.
One evening I was rifling through a closet in the reception room looking for my spare mobile phone charger. The maid Yui came in and asked if I needed any help searching, but I had already found what I was looking for.
She knelt as usual facing the far side of the room. For the first time I was situated behind a kneeling maid when she assumed her position.
Her bottom was in the air, her head bowed and her forearms on the floor. On this occasion her knee length robe had ridden up and Yui made no attempt to pull it back down.
From my position, kneeling by the closet, I could see her legs. Being male, my eyes subconsciously moved up, and I caught a glimpse of her pussy! I froze in surprise; she had no panties on under her robe. I thought that I must be mistaken so I risked another quick glance. I could clearly see the puffy lips of her sex peeping out from below the hem of her robe.
Then came the usual question: "Can I please you Masutā?"
I quickly got up and moved around in front of her. I was in a state of shock, but I tried to act as if I hadn't seen anything. My mouth was dry, and my pulse was racing. I tried to act calm, but my voice came out in a bit of a squeak.
"Erm... Yui, I had been meaning to ask; when you say can I please you, what exactly do you mean?"
