One Night in Toyo

The fact that this story takes place in a Japanese temple is meant as no disrespect to any particular religious persuasion. The idea was sparked by a visit to a Tokyo temple, but just as easily could have taken place in any cathedral, synagogue or mosque.

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The Temple was the final stop on our daylong bus tour of Tokyo, and though we'd very much enjoyed the sights, my wife, Amber, and I were quite spent by the time we piled from our bus with the thirty-six other tourists into the crowded temple courtyard. It seemed to us that anything sacred or religious about the place had been lost in crass commercialism. Dozens of tiny shops hawking troves of useless plastic knickknacks lined the courtyard leading to the temple steps, and for 100 yen you could get your fortune told or have a sip of healing water. None of those milling about seemed to pay much attention to the few who were there on a meaningful pilgrimage.

We wearied quickly of the circus atmosphere and decided to rest on a bench in a small, quiet garden area off to left side of the main temple building before heading off on our own to find some dinner. After a few minutes resting in the shade, a priest who was dressed in traditional Buddhist robe came out from an unobtrusive doorway near the rear of the building and up the few concrete steps toward us.

The man, with a clean-shaven head and a long goatee, approached us directly and spoke in broken English, "You come foddo' me. See sacred temple chambah. P'divate tour fo' jou."

Without waiting for our answer he turned and walked back toward the doorway form whence he came, stopping only briefly to look back and beckon us with an urgent waving gesture.

Amber and I looked at each other inquisitively. I said, "This is our chance to see the real temple - not the fake stuff they show for the tourists. Let's go."

I grabbed her hand and we stepped quickly toward the doorway, almost catching up to the priest by the time he had shuffled to the entryway. We followed him down the steps and through a locked, heavy door that clanged loudly behind us once we were through. The single candle held by the priest barely illuminated the long narrow hallway with a rather low ceiling. The cool subterranean air was a refreshing respite from the oppressive Japanese August heat we'd been experiencing all day.

A minute later we made our way through a second and much more ornate door, which led to a long winding staircase with intricately carved balusters and a heavy wooden railing. Brightly colored tapestries of semi-naked women and men lined the wall, but it was too dark to make out much of the details of the depicted scenes. After what seemed like a descent of several hundred steps the priest stopped in front of the third door. He turned toward us and spoke for the first time since we entered the temple.

"Jou wait hea'. I come fo' jou."

He unlocked and pushed open the massive door, handed the candle to me, bowed deeply, and shut the door behind him. We heard the key jangling in the door from behind and assumed the priest was locking it. I wondered for a moment whether he was locking us in or locking us out.

Amber broke my train of thought. "This is really creepy. Maybe we should go," she said nervously.

"It's OK," I assured her. "It's supposed to be creepy. It's a temple." I didn't bother to mention that we probably stood little chance of getting through either of the locked doors through which we'd already passed. She was jumpy enough.

Suddenly there was a strange odor and a mist began to rise from a small grate in floor near our feet. We looked at each other with a mixture of shock and fear.

"Matt, what the hell is that?" Amber cried out.

"OK, we're getting out of here," I exclaimed as I grabbed Amber's hand.

We didn't get more than two steps before we both blacked out.

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I must have hit my head when I fell, because it was my throbbing forehead that I noticed first when I awoke. That was followed by the immediate awareness that I was bound fast to a chair, my hands tied behind me, my feet tied to the legs of the chair. As my head began to clear I started to take in my surroundings.

My chair was against the wall of an enormous circular room, about eighty feet across, with at least a twenty-foot high ceiling. A ring of a dozen hefty columns, each three feet in diameter with flutes of gold, formed an inner circle about half way between wall and the center of the room. The only light in the room came from a tall ten-foot wide shaft going up to who-knows-where from the center of the room. I assumed it was the fading daylight shining from above, and from the damp cold it seemed that I was still somewhere deep down below the temple. Thirty or more brightly colored tapestries filled the walls floor-to-ceiling and bore the same kind of naked people scenes I had seen on the walls of the stairway, only now I could clearly make out the wide variety of sexual acts blatantly depicted upon them.

Suddenly recalling our descent down the tapestry-laden stairway and the circumstances that preceded our passing out from the gas, I called out for Amber. No answer came. I called out more loudly. Still no answer. I struggled against the bonds that held me fast. No luck. Damn. What the hell is going on? I thought to myself. Was this a robbery? Was the priest we followed a fake? What was a temple doing involved in this kind of activity? What did he want with us? Where is Amber? Is she OK? What is this place?

As these questions shot rapid-fire through my mind, muffled voices coming from the far end of the room startled me. One of the tapestries, which showed three kneeling, topless women all engaging in oral sex with the man standing over them, slowly rolled up from the bottom, revealing an oversized arched wooden door with a carving in the dark wood that mimicked the tapestry in front of it. The door creaked open slowly to reveal dark passageway behind, from which a silk-robed priest entered the room. He had a shaved head and goatee like the one that had lured us into the temple, and he was holding a lit torch. He was followed by a second, identically robed, torch-bearing priest. The pair stepped just inside the room and turned to face one another from either side of the doorway. A third priest appeared with his torch yet unlit. In contrast to the first two, his robe was plain brown and made of cotton or wool, though he was bald with a goatee like the others. The first two, apparently some kind of high priests, bowed toward one another, touching their torches together, allowing the third to light his torch from theirs as they chanted something in what I assumed was Japanese. At the completion of the chant they stood upright again and allowed the plain-robed priest to pass into the room before bowing to light the torch of the next priest. The procession of plain-robed priests continued in this fashion until twelve priests had taken their place, one in front of each of the twelve gilded columns of the inner circle, each standing like a statue and holding a lit torch.

Fascinated by the spectacular pageantry unfolding before me I sat dumbstruck until the priests were all in position. Jarred back to the reality of my situation, I called out to them loudly, frantically insisting that they untie me and let me go. I screamed empty threats and vainly ordered them to bring Amber to me. All my pleas went completely unheeded. None of the men so much as gave a glance my way, each of them staring blankly toward the empty center of the room while the two torch-lighting high priests made several long, slow processions around the outer circle, one in clockwise direction, the other moving counter-clockwise. I called out to them as they passed near me without effect. After shouting myself hoarse I finally gave up my appeal.

The torch-lighters disappeared through the doorway through which they had entered while the others stood still as statues, all eyes remaining fixed on the empty space at the center of their circle. I heard what I thought to be the sounds of an unintelligible female voice. Amber? I thought.

Seconds later the two priests entered the room with a squirming and squawking Amber between them. Her wrists were bound in front of her, she was blindfolded and gagged, and the men were forcing her along roughly by the elbows as she fought them futilely, causing the long silk cape she wore to gape open in front.

"Amber," I yelled, my voice raspy from my earlier shouting. "It's me, Matt. It's going to be OK. We'll get out of this somehow."

Of course things were anything but OK, and I had no idea how things might turn out or how we'd manage to get out of this situation, but I felt compelled to reassure her. She was obviously terrified, and knowing her as I do, I knew hearing my voice would provide her a modicum of reassurance. Of course she could only respond with more muffled cries and unintelligible pleas. Seeing my poor wife helplessly bound before this room of creepy men grew a rage in me I could barely contain. I knew from the tapestries and the way she was scantily dressed that they had ill intent to use her vilely. I fought with renewed vigor against my restraints until the ropes cut deeply into my flesh and I lost the feeling in my hands, all to no avail.

Amber was obviously outmatched against the two tall men, who managed to wrestle her to the center of the circle, where they lowered her to the floor in a sobbing heap. One of the two made a beeline for me and I recognized him as the one from the garden. He had fire in his eyes as he looked down at me.

He spoke in broken English. "No more sound or she be hurt. Watch quiet now or we hurt her. We hurt you bad."

Without another word he turned and went back to the center of the circle. I believed his threat. We were in the middle of some bizarre ritual that very well could turn to human sacrifice if we weren't careful. I chose silence.

The one who spoke to me, perhaps the one among them who spoke the best English, said something in Japanese to the other silk-robed one and he walked to the wall and opened a small box in the wall about three hangings down from my chair. He pressed a button and a whirring noise echoed through the room. From overhead high up in the center shaft that disappeared above us a length of heavy rope was lowered to the floor. Something metal on the end of it clanked loudly onto the floor near Amber's feet. The garden priest opened the metal jaws on the device and clamped them over the bulbous knot in the short length of rope between her wrists.

The whirring noise started again, raising the rope up and causing Amber to be pulled awkwardly to her feet, only stopping once her hands were winched high over her head. Her brightly colored silk cape now fell freely open, exposing her entire front to the circle of men, who were now all fixated upon her. With the click of another button, the floor vibrated thunderously as a twelve-foot diameter circular section of the stone floor under Amber rumbled upward, forming what looked like a raised stage beneath her. When the platform jarred to a stop at about four feet above ground, Amber stumbled, dangling and swinging awkwardly like a fish caught on a hook.

The priest in the center stepped up the stairs that formed in concentric rings around the platform and quickly steadied my staggering wife. Once she was stabilized in the center of the stage, I watched his hands push aside the opening of her cape and slide deftly over her naked breasts, down over her hips, and then as he knelt in front of her, one hand each brushed down her thighs and calves. He flipped open a metal plate just to Amber's right and removed from the opening in the floor a length of chain with a leather ankle cuff on the end. He shoved her right foot over to where the cuff would reach and buckled it to her ankle. He did the same with her left foot, forcing her to stand spread-eagled.

The winch was raised another several inches until Amber's body was stretched out tight, her legs spread wide by the cuffs and arms held overhead. The high priest stood again and tugged open the knot that held the silk cape about her neck, allowing it to slide off her body to the floor and exposing her fully to the room full of gawking men. Amber sobbed quietly through her gag. Next he removed her blindfold, and because she'd been bound facing me, I could see for the first time the terror in her eyes, and I'm sure she saw the complete helplessness in mine. I silently mouthed the words "I love you," heeding the priests threat.

The priest on the platform walked slowly around the rim of it and shouted a brief instruction to the men, who were still standing like statues in their circle. One man pulled a small bundle of what looked like incense sticks from his robe and lit the bundle from his torch until it began to smoke profusely. He sniffed it deeply for a minute as he slowly approached the stage area, placing it in one of a series of small holes that ringed the edge of the platform. As he returned to his place he set his torch into a bracket on the pillar, clearly placed there for just that purpose. He then removed his robe, revealing that that he was completely naked underneath and sporting a raging hard-on. He carefully hung his robe on a hook next to the torch and returned to his statuesque position.

One at a time, with military precision, all twelve men did the exact same routine until the twelve burning bundles formed a ring around Amber, causing a thick, steady cloud of smoke to enshroud and obscure her entire body. After five or maybe ten minutes, as the incense began to burn low, another verbal signal was given. All twelve priests retrieved the smoldering sticks from the altar and began processing in line around the platform, inhaling the remnants before climbing the steps together and extinguish them into a golden urn that had been placed between Amber's legs.

As smoke began to clear from around my naked and bound wife the change in her demeanor struck me immediately. No longer was she thrashing about or fighting her bondage, and gone was the look of terror in her eyes. In its place was a look that I could only describe as kind of hazy, wild-eyed, drug-induced lust, which gave me my first clue as to the magic erotic potion she had been just forced to inhale.

Her sobbing had ceased and her eyes now cast wildly about at the room full of parading naked men. I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked to me like she was staring straight at their rigid cocks, following them around the room as they marched before her. It dawned on me, as I watched the procession, that each of these twelve men was extremely well endowed. I was intrigued by the remarkable size, which was rather out of proportion with each man's typically small Japanese frame.

I now saw clearly how Amber's breasts were swollen and full, the way they do when she gets turned on. Her nipples were harder and more distended than I'd ever seen. Clearly, whatever it was they'd given her was stirring new levels of lust from deep within my dear wife, who was normally rather sexually reserved. The lips of her womanhood were swollen as well, even to the point of being parted and pouting open, and I could see moisture glistening on the inside of her spread thighs. Whatever potion they had given her, it was clear that my wife had been turned into a raging nymph.

The two high priests, who had also disrobed and joined the procession at the head and tail, finally climbed the stairs of the platform and approached Amber simultaneously from the front and back. The one behind her removed her gag and tossed it to the floor. His hands then reach around in front of her and pinched both her nipples simultaneously between his fingers while the other man unceremoniously stuffed two fingers into her gaping pussy. Immediately Amber's eyes clamped shut and she cried out loudly, but it wasn't a pain cry. No, she was clearly coming, gasping, moaning and writhing with pleasure in instantaneous response to the fingers of the two men. I'd never seen such a thing. Her pleasure cries filled the room and her body thrashed against the bondage on her wrists and ankles, her orgasm lasting the entire thirty seconds or minute that the men were fingering her pussy and tweaking her nipples.

After her noisy orgasm subsided the two men freed her arms and legs from their bonds, apparently satisfied that the incense had taken full effect both in heightening her sexual sensitivity and in muting her resistance to whatever was about to take place. However, her hands were still bound together in front and they left in place the leather cuffs on her ankles.

The men led Amber down the steps toward me, their huge stiff cocks and her heaving breasts bobbing up and down as they bounded down the steps toward me. Involuntarily I felt my own cock stir from watching my wife in the throes of sexual ecstasy. Eventually Amber's eyes drifted up toward mine, casting only a brief glance my way. She smiled at me and then licked her lips, but didn't speak. I wondered if she was even able to, whether the drug had pushed her into some kind of semi-conscious state, or perhaps they had threatened her to silence as they threatened me.

I soon learned that I was not their intended destination when the men led my wife before the priest standing by the pillar just a few feet to my right. I knew they started with the priest nearest me with intention, as this afforded me the best view of the proceedings. Without provocation she sank to her knees in front of the naked man. Immediately her bound hands clasped together around the man's thick member, and she slowly, lasciviously stroked him up and down while staring ravenously at his enormous cock. I watched as she licked the shaft while cupping his heavy balls in her hands, working her mouth up it's tremendous length to the bulbous purple head. She stretched her jaw wide open and engulfed as much of his meat as she possibly could, which was a little less than half its twelve-inch length. Her hands went to work making up the difference, stroking furiously in counter-rhythm as her mouth plunged up and down upon the man. I'd never seen my wife suck cock in such a vociferous manner - like a woman possessed. I was always lucky to get an occasional one-minute, half-hearted blowjob, and that only after much persistent begging on my part.

I was awestruck as I watched her perform with absolute abandon. In less than two minutes the priest she was sucking let out a small groan, and I knew he was going to come. Having always staunchly refused to taste my semen, I was shocked when Amber's lips clamped desperately around the man's shaft as it began to convulse in her mouth, flooding her throat with his load, all of which she readily swallowed. After he'd finished emptying into her mouth, she spent several minutes eagerly licking every hint of come from his shaft, while continuing to stroke his shaft and caress his balls.

Amber had to be forcefully removed from the man's cock and brought to kneel at the next priest's feet, his ample meat waving in her face. She gave his cock a ravenous gaze and quickly engulfed all she could, milking his full load into her hot mouth in mere minutes as well. Though my view of her performance on the third and fourth priests was somewhat obstructed by the wide columns, she made quick work of them, obviously sucking down every drop they offered her.

She continued moving around the circle undirected and unassisted by the high priests.

It seemed to me that she was becoming more eager with each cock. By the time she knelt at the fifth's feet, she seemed crazy with lust. As his member spurted deep in her throat, she dropped her bound hands between her legs and touched her clit, exploding in immediate orgasmic delight. Her whole body seemed to convulse wildly as she came, which only seemed add to the priest's enjoyment of her oral skills.