(NOTE: this is a story based
loosely
on the
Futanari
archetype, without, hopefully, the grotesqueness and general story lines usually associated with this type.)
I recently went to Japan, and being an American of mixed ancestry (half Romanian, half Japanese) I found it a little difficult to adapt.
Well, at first at least.
I decided I wanted to stay a little longer and for that you have to go through the whole visa thing and work permits and whatnot, but I went the proper route, am old enough to work (23 years), and well, I finally got a job in this establishment in downtown
Kabukicho,
which is renowned as one of the reddest of the red-light districts around.
âWhich was fine for me because, well, I'd been a
good girl
for so long it made me sick!
My job was in an establishment calledâwell, translated asâ
Ultra-Sexing Legs, International,
and I was one of the many attendants that made sure the antiseptic misting machinery was working properly. You walk into this place and it's a long, wide walkway that branches off and becomes a sort of maze, but all along the walls on each side of every walkway are pairs of bare female legs sticking out. They're spaced maybe 10 feet apart. At first I thought they were mechanical legs because they moved and everything but then I started to notice (on the tour my new boss gave me) that each pair was different. All really pretty I have to say, but individual. Now with technology the way it is that's obviously possible, but at first I assumed they were robotic.
Then the boss left me to walk around a little bit to familiarize myself with the layout and as I strolled along through the crowd (it was a very popular place as I found out), I tried to get used to the sight of adult menâeverything from construction guys and shop owners to really expensively dressed business typesâstanding before the pair of legs they'd selected (and paid for at the door), and basically having sex with them. They'd be jerking themselves off on them or rubbing their things against them till they gushed, and sometimes the legs would lift up and the men would put their dongs between the pretty feet and ram back and forth until they spurt.
Running along the floor, and against the wall was a grated trough to catch all this semen, and above, concealed with the lights that shown down, were the tiny misting heads that were automatically activated a few moments after the client stepped away; sort of like those automatic hand wash things in bathrooms. They'd spray down to rinse off what the client had just left.
Then one of the attendants would rush up and make sure all the jiz was gone and then wipe the legs dry. There was a hose blowing warm air down on each pair of legs for drying, but apparently it took too long for most of the clientele. And before the cleaning cycle was over another tiny misting nozzle would spray a tiny bit of nicely scented oil down on the legs so (I guess) they didn't get chapped.
And that was the part I didn't get, really. Plastic legs getting chapped? Anyhow, that's where I came in; being one of those attendants.
Right after the noonday rush, I went in and got my white, freshly starched coveralls on, my boots and gloves and mask (I looked like a disaster relief worker), and went out with one of the older attendants and got right to work.
At first my assigned area was a little empty; just one guy standing there running his hands slowly up and down one pair of pretty legs, while another guy on the other wall was squatting, holding one of the feet of another pair of legs in his hands, sucking on its toes. I sorta spaced out on that one for a few moments, wondering what it would be like to have a guy suck on my toes. I mean, it's sort of sexy in a weird, kinky way. I'd done things to myself while masturbating, including touching the tops of my feet and caressing my legs and stuff, and it had been wonderful, but having someone
else
doing itâthat was the fascinating thing.
See, on top of everything else, I'd never actually had sex with anyone, so pretty much anything that wasn't masturbation was really interesting to me!
So I watched and then my coworker tapped my shoulder and pointed at a guy just finishing up what he was doing. He was halfway around the curve in the tunnel-like walkway so he'd been a little hard to see, but now he was walking past us smiling as he zipped up his pants. We finally got to the legs and I stood back watching the mist spraying down and washing all the guy's sperm off the legs, and then waited while the warm air started up. The coworker motioned for me to go ahead and start drying but the moment I put the towel on the left leg and started to rub, I almost fainted!
It was real!
Through the beautiful tiled wall (that was really artsy and cool looking I might add) I heard a voice softly saying "Thank you." It was in Japanese, but I understood that much at least! Then there was a tap on my shoulder and I shook off the shock of the discovery and went back to drying the leg off.