Choto Temple Ch 09

The content of the message:

call me.

There was Cy on the other end of the Skype line. Her hair was in even more disarray than last time, and a towel was hanging around her neck.

"You're lucky I picked up," she said. "I've just been at the beach."

"Of course. What else is an Australian to do?"

"Dan-o," she said, "you owe me big time, and I don't mean sexual favors."

"What did you find? I'm very intrigued!"

"You sure as fuck should be! Exactly nothing like this has ever come out of the Choto Temple. And it's fairly bizarre that this just did."

"How did you come across it?"

"A friend with Fukuleaks."

"The folks who are trying to expose corruption within the Japanese nuclear industry?"

"Yes, those are the ones," she confirmed impatiently. "One way or another, they swept up a lot of data from various computers, including on your mountain there. My friend tells me this file looks like it's never left the hard drive of the laptop it was typed on.

"He said they were actually just going to get rid of it, since it's not related to exposing corrupt politicians. He said they 'had no interest in exposing anyone for participating in unusual sexual practices.'

"But he knew I'd be interested. They had bothered to translate it already, and he figured it couldn't hurt to share it with me.

"It's written anonymously. And there's no hard proof that it's real. But he's sure it came off of a laptop from your mountain. For whatever that's worth. Definitely makes for interesting reading anyway."

"I was already going to give you research credit for this piece. But now your name will be in caps."

"Yeah, right. You're welcome."

It was a very revealing document indeed. Well worth quoting at length.

Diary of a Choto Girl

Day 1

I'm riding on the Shinkansen from Tokyo to Yamaguchi. I thought I'd keep a diary about the experience that I'm about to have. Though I suppose it started when I sent in my application, almost a year ago.

I was intrigued when I first heard about the Purification Temple. It seemed so very Japanese.

You want something. But rather than fighting over it, you just make yourself so attractive that what you want comes to you.

It also fit so well with our notions of exchanging gifts. Receiving longevity and giving joy seemed like a fine exchange.

And then the rumors spread of the smaller, Choto Temple, and I was really intrigued.

I have known for a long time that I was different. I have recently learned there are words for this difference, too. English words, as they so often are.

I find great emotional contentment from service. Especially service which involves abdicating - giving control to someone else.

The specifics are unclear to me now, sitting on this train. But the general idea is clear. The founders of the Choto Temple wished to go beyond the framework of the Purification Temple.

For Choto, offering the purity of youthful beauty for the Donor to inoculate was not going far enough. They sought to create the ideal. That is, to understand this one man and the peculiarities of his earthly desires. And crystallize those desires in human form.

The idea of being an ascetic has always attracted me. But I don't believe in any gods. So becoming a nun of some kind always seemed a bit disingenuous.

But to serve this Temple of a different sort, the idea fills me with fascination. So here I am. Unknowing but ready.

Well, not entirely unknowing. I know there will be an unusual combination of service to a cause, and sex with one man. I can't imagine there will be very much sex, though - given the ratio, with one man and scores of women. Unless we women are to have sex with each other. Who knows.

Day 2

It's beautiful here in the mountains of Yamaguchi.

I had only read about this prefecture. It's the home of the samurai who led the revolution against the old regime at the end of the Edo era. The home of modern Japan, but a very traditional-feeling place today, compared to Tokyo.

It was also so interesting to meet the other members of the Choto Temple.

The founders are a bit different, and older. But all of those of us in the Temple, the members, are similar in many ways.

There was an immediate feeling for me of doing something important, and strange, among other people who seemed to really appreciate both the importance and the strangeness.

Day 3

There were interesting orientation events today, involving members of both Temples, where we discussed a wide variety of subjects.

Cancer rates, nuclear power. Concepts of service, and concepts of sexuality. And different kinds of sexual orientations.

It was interesting to note that for the Choto members, even the very new ones, everything was so familiar, and agreeable.

For the Purification members, particularly the sexual stuff was new to them. They are very young, and often very traditional. Although they have voluntarily signed up for this unusual procedure. And generally at least, they don't seem to feel ashamed of themselves. As far as I can tell.

Day 4

Today was the last day of orientation before the ascetic practice begins, only for Choto members. Which I have learned involves getting piercings and a sort of implant. The instructor explained that no one has to go through with this or stay in the Temple a minute longer than they wish to. But no one left.

The topic today was about specific sexual practices within the BDSM spectrum.

I was once again impressed at how familiar all the Choto girls seemed to be with this subject. It turns out that all of the ones I've talked to, like me, were already consciously involved with kink.

I had assumed all of us had met some number of qualifications in order to be here. But it was today that I got a better idea of how many.

I asked several girls who I've been getting to know how they responded to the questions in the application to join the Choto Temple. We were asked for photographs of ourselves, our ages, and more general things like that. But also many more interesting questions.

Have you heard of BDSM? Do you identify as a submissive? Do you enjoy giving control to others?

Do you masturbate regularly? Do you have clitoral orgasms regularly? Do you ever have vaginal orgasms?

Have you ever been attracted to the idea of joining a convent? Do you like living in community?

Do you believe in the mission of the Choto Temple? How do you feel about the concepts of self-sacrifice and self-denial?

There was essentially no variation in how any of the girls answered these questions. The Temple only seemed to take those who answered them all the same way. Our age range seemed to be from late teens to early thirties. And universally very attractive girls.

Day 5

Other ascetic practices involve fasting or giving up sex.

Choto girls abdicate their orgasms. And for all practical purposes, we give up the ability to have them.

Among other things, I have gathered, none of us are among the one-third of women who are capable of having vaginal orgasms. And none of us have access to our own clitorises.

The Donor is the only one with access (until one leaves the Temple).

The founders emphasized, though, that this was an access given to him by the Temple, not requested directly by him. The Temple may have created itself in his image, but it was not created by him.

Other girls had already explained what was going to happen today. They explained with what looked like a combination of excitement and horror. A familiar combination for me, too, I thought. A welcome one.

I was taken to a building that had the antiseptic quality of a small medical clinic.

There were two women with smocks, masks and gloves, who warmly greeted me and had me sit down on a table. Once I had removed the necessary clothing, they shaved my pubic hair, put some ointment in that area - to the left and to the right of my clitoris - to dull the pain.

And they made two piercings. Through the piercings they put two metal rings.

Once they cleaned up the area, they introduced me to the Device. A small sort of metal lid with a rubbery coating, containing a tiny battery.

They placed it over my clit. There was the whir of a small electronic mechanism, as the Device attached itself to the two rings.

Water can get in, just barely, and air. But for all practical purposes at this point I have no access to my own clitoris.

Now I think I understand that combination of excitement and horror, in this context.

Day 6

There are two ways the Device can be removed, they say. The Donor can remove it with the push of a button, or a code, or something. The other way is for the rings to be cut with wire cutters.

This is the first day in my 29 years that I have ever not had access to a part of my body, and it's very strange.

I keep thinking of what it might be like for a very small baby, who is unable to get its hands inside its diaper, because the diaper's elastic is too strong. I've seen that happen, and wondered how those babies felt, who wanted to put their hands down there but couldn't.

Normally, I often go several days without touching my own clit, and think nothing of it. But now that I can't, touching it is almost all I think about.

Day 7

Mostly the Device just prevents access to this spot. But it also can vibrate. We can't make them vibrate ourselves.

There are scheduled activities each day that girls participate in. We have shifts in the garden, cooking in the kitchen for the community, cleaning, and so on. One of the times the Device vibrates is when it's time for one of those activities. There is a different pulse, depending on the activity.

There are also the activities that aren't on a set schedule. Which generally involve visiting the Donor.

If there are three longer vibrations in a row, it means it's time for a visit. Depending on the time of day, the mission probably involves talking or other social activities, or a massage session. Or one of a variety of sexual activities.

The Donor made a brief appearance on the fourth day of the orientation. But I haven't really met him yet.

I feel fear, but mostly excitement.

Day 8

I had been told of the possibility of a long, sustained buzz from the Device. Which, I was told, doesn't signify the need to do anything, other than to have this random experience.

Today it kept happening to me and, I noticed, at the same time to everyone else. A total of 14 times.

I don't know how different other girls are from me in terms of this experience. But for me, each time it did that, it didn't go long enough to get me to the edge of coming. But it did get me excited each time. And each time, a little more excited than the last time.

The last buzz happened at 9:30 pm - a half hour before many girls are going to bed.

I don't know how well they slept, but I slept fitfully. I kept squeezing my legs together, which causes a very slight sensation in my clit, even with the Device on. Which just made things worse in terms of the arousal, and fitful sleep.

It was only through focusing very hard on breathing exercises and other forms of meditation that I was able to eventually sleep for a few hours.

Day 9

Today some of the girls seemed a bit subdued. Most didn't. But it wasn't that they were normal. They were acting a bit extra demure. As if to show how much they enjoyed the previous day of being so tantalized. There was a subtle kind of competition going on among this group of submissives. Who could submit more.

Day 10

There was something about the intensity of the three buzzes in a row, and the length of time between the buzzes, that was especially arousing.

It happened this morning at 9 am. And by the end of the third buzz, my clit was completely awoken, and felt very hard and bloated. If it had kept going for six such buzzes, I probably would have had an orgasm.

Given the time of the buzzes, I knew I was meant to meet the Donor, for a nonsexual purpose.

It was strange to go meet this man, about whom I had heard so much. After being at the Temple for over a week, and wearing this ever-present Device, I was ready to do whatever he wanted. Well, I was ready before then, too.

But we only talked. He was warm. He seemed warm in front of the group before. But somehow, on an individual basis, I didn't know if he would be.

His Japanese was excellent. He was very interested in Japanese politics, too, and more knowledgeable about them than me. Though I think I faked it OK.

He told me I could ask him anything, if I had any questions about him, or anything else I wanted to talk about. Which was very nice, but I was too surprised to think of anything to ask.

When it was time for me to go, he said he looked forward to our next encounter. And he kissed me on the cheek.

Day 11

Today was another day of no buzzing. Other than the very short pulses reminding me about meals and work duties.

The almost complete lack of stimulation was perhaps as distracting as the day of the fourteen long buzzes. My clit ached. I breathed, and tried not to think of it too much. But in truth, it really dominated my mind.

Day 12

Today was the hardest day yet. The buzzing began just before breakfast. At first it was a long, sustained buzz every twenty minutes. I looked at other girls once when it was going on, and it didn't seem to be happening to them. Just me, I guess...?

The interval between buzzes kept decreasing throughout the day. And into the evening. After 12 hours, when it stopped, it was buzzing once every five minutes.

It was completely distracting.

A combination of arousal and frustration unlike anything I've ever experienced. By evening I had to focus hard not to tear at the Device and rip it off of me, just to have a chance to touch my throbbing clitoris. Which felt like a more important part of my body than it had ever felt like before.

Day 13

It was another fitful night of sleep.

I dreamed of a large, mean, hard insect that had attached itself to my clit, and I couldn't get it off of me. When I awoke, my hand was between my legs.

At 10 am, there were three long, sustained buzzes. Which was three times as long as anything the previous day.

And getting past that first buzz brought me into a different realm of arousal, that I realized I had been longing for the day before. Not very close to the edge or to any kind of orgasmic release. But further. Closer.

Given the time (between the hours of 10 and 11 am) I knew exactly what was expected of me.

I walked in as another girl was leaving. Robu-san (as he asked me to call him) gestured for me to come into the living room with him.

I knew he wasn't going to say anything, or to tell me to do anything.

We had been told. He was not interested in commanding anyone. Maybe he used to be, but no longer. He was the honored guest of the Temple, and I am a Choto girl.

But it was strange. It felt so bold of me to just start doing things without being asked. It helped that he sat down in such a way that he knew what to expect. And he certainly showed no look of surprise as I did what he knew I would do.

I took off my dress, my bra, my panties, and sat down on the couch.

That part wasn't so hard, although Robu-san sat in his seat, fully clothed. The hard part was spreading my legs while sitting naked on the couch. But I knew that was what I was supposed to do. So I did.

I sat there, naked. Legs spread apart, looking at Robu-san. I wanted to look away, but knew that I couldn't.

I believe he was enjoying my inner conflict. In any case, he sat there and looked at me for perhaps a full minute. Which seemed like a very long time. I knew that my job now was to wait.

Robu-san touched a smart phone or some such thing several times. And the Device that had been attached like a barnacle to my clit for more than a week now suddenly became unhinged from the metal rings, and fell gently to the couch between my legs.

Robu-san reached over between my legs and took the Device. I felt flustered throughout my body as he reached his hands so close to that spot, but I didn't move.

When he sat back down again, I looked at the clock. With the Device removed, I knew that what I was to do now was to touch myself as much as I could in the space of ten minutes. Without coming, of course.

Normally, I could easily do such a thing. Usually I don't come all that quickly, even if I'm trying to. This time, the feeling of touching my clit for the first time after so much sensory deprivation, alternating with stimulation, it was almost too much. Each time I pushed into my very swollen clit with my finger, it sent shock waves down my legs and up my spine.

I thought of the time I broke my arm as a kid, and had it in a cast for weeks, unable to move it at the elbow, unable to touch it. This was only very distantly related to that experience. Clits, it turns out, are not arms.

It was only two-and-a-half minutes before the waves of an impending orgasm were pushing against my clit, from somewhere just behind it. I gasped, and stopped touching.

I felt like I was doing something wrong to stop, even though I knew that's what I was supposed to do. Robu-san looked pleased, though, and smiled reassuringly. He had a sort of sympathetic look on his face.

"So close?"

These were his first words since I had entered his house today.

"Yes," I replied.

We had been told that if he asked any questions, the best reply was an honest one.

"Does your clit hurt?" he asked.

"Yes. But it's supposed to."

"Do you want to come?" he asked.

"I think I do. But Choto girls don't do that."

After that brief conversation, that brief respite from the shock waves the direct contact of my finger was causing, I thought I could touch myself a bit more without going over the edge, and I did. It was only a minute later that I had to stop again.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said. "You're very good."

Being told by him that I was good sent more shock waves through my body. Even without any physical stimulation.

I returned to touching myself again. Each time, I had to stop sooner than the last. At the end I was panting like a dog. Then I started laughing because I was panting. And Robu-san thought it was funny, too.

When ten minutes was up, I was sitting on the couch, legs wide apart, hands on my inner thighs, unable to touch my clit for more than a few seconds without coming. My clit was throbbing rhythmically. Presumably along with my heart, which was racing.

Robu-san was watching it intently as it bobbed up and down with my pulse, hard, swollen. The very image, I thought, of desperation.