An Illusion of Control

Whips, chains, pain and other trappings are often associated with BDSM, but some cultures use a variation of these to facilitate some difficult social aspects of their culture.

As always, I take full blame for all errors and omissions in its content...

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Being a 34 year old bachelor is somewhat a rarity here in Mayport. I manage to have better than average luck getting dates whenever I was feeling a bit 'antsy,' and hold a quite respectable position as a project manager for an IT consulting firm. The name is Mark and physically, I am a little over 6 ft tall, but a little underweight at 190 lbs. I keep in pretty good shape by running about 3 miles each day during lunch, and just generally watching what I eat.

All in all, my life as a single professional is quite satisfying, if not a little monotonous. Did I say monotonous? Well, just hear me out, and you'll see what I mean by that comment.

Hobbies? Oh yeah, I cook; sometimes to the acclaim of both workmates and local chefs! Surprised? You shouldn't be. Without a wife or mother to cook for me, and my reluctance to play out the bar/restaurant scene, I had to learn how to cook or be doomed forever to bland, crappy sustenance. And, my other not so secret vice; I absolutely love to dine! Hear that? DINE! Not just eat! Christ! Pigs can eat, but people... we can dine!

Well, the end result of my rather unique lifestyle is regular invitations to various homes of associates to cook up something special for them and a few select guests. Sometimes I bring a date, most often I don't, preferring the luxury of freedom to do and behave as I wished!

However, whenever I do bring a date, a few drinks would loosen lips among the guests to the point of drawing comparisons between my current companion, and the ones before. Definitely awkward, to say the least.

Since I'd been invited to most of the homes of the associates I worked with, I was fairly familiar with their families and lifestyles. Additionally, even though I didn't particularly care for the bar scene, oftentimes on assignment I'd spend long evenings bonding with my project crew at local hotspots. Knowing what to expect out of my team members both on and off the job was very important for me as a responsible manager.

Granted, when my associates got a little too lubricated on the local sauce, I'd get more personal information than I cared for, but even that situation allowed me to assist the team members in reaching their full potential on the job. Maintaining a tight level of discretion regarding that information allowed me to retain their confidence, and ensured a pretty reliable level of communication amongst the group.

Now, the reason I share all this with you, is the curious situation that I found myself in one evening a few months ago. My cooking exploits had become the stuff of legend, (Ok, how about just gossip and rumor?) and I was usually booked up for a weekend at a time when I wasn't already on a client site working. Great for the ego, but sucks for a decent social life.

A few times while on assignment, I shared a pitcher or two with one of the younger programmers, who was still taking graduate courses online. William (yeah, that's right; not Bill) Stanton is a proto-typical 'geek,' but a damn nice guy. Shy in person, he is a killer online. He is also a self-styled gourmet, and has the physical attributes to prove it. Probably 5'9", and weighing around 220 lbs, he seldom misses any of my cooking sessions, no matter where they are held, and became one of my biggest fans.

'Pride goes before the fall,' the old saying goes. Well, pride apparently goes before the adventure as well, as I was soon to find out...

William has the poor judgment to do what I'd never have done; he brags about my cooking online to his friends. Me? I'm satisfied to attend an occasional party and cook with friends, not expecting a whole lot other than companionship. The praise for a good cooking effort is just 'frosting on the cake.'

William had been corresponding online with a certain schoolmate of his; for quite some time, it seems. He'd mentioned her to me from time to time whenever he was in his cups. She is Japanese, a graduate student in Data Security Systems, apparently interested in mild bondage, and a self-styled chef in Asian cuisine. He had never met her personally, but she had shown quite an interest in my cooking skills throughout their many messages. But apparently, with a "Yeah, right..." attitude.

Other than having what I'd call a 'natural' attraction to Asian women, and a sorta-kinda curiosity about 'mild bondage,' I was pretty content with the life I was leading. I was in 'the groove' so to speak. No real complaints, but just a little monotonous. You see...? Jus' gettin' along...

All of this was about to change of course, but I didn't know that then. My weekly routine was completely predictable, interrupted only by the demands of my work. Life was good!

Then, one Sunday when I was checking my online schedule for the following weekend, I noticed that William had reserved the following Friday for a cookout. That itself was nothing extraordinary of course. I'd set up this scheduling system for just this reason. The unusual part of the request was; it was not to be held at one of our usual associate homes, and it had to conform to an Asian theme.

Always up for a challenge, I immediately checked out my personal cookbook notes for Asian style dishes, and found about 6 or 7 that might fill the bill. Also, suspecting that William had somehow gotten his online school mate involved in our routine, I called him and verified that he had indeed, taken this opportunity to meet her at last. Since the guest list also included a few of our close associates and their spouses, I accepted the invitation at once.

I can't really say that I wasn't a bit intrigued with the prospect of meeting this little oriental gal, but I am a pretty conservative guy after all, so I didn't set too much importance to it. I

was

interested in meeting her, but simply as a means of satisfying my curiosity. Or so I thought.

So, armed with a tentative guest list and a menu, I began to collect donations for supplies from our staff, and left it up to William to pay for his friend's share. He hinted at a surprise whenever I got to her apartment, but assured me that I'd be up for it. Hmmm... This made me a bit more than intrigued, and I was really beginning to look forward to this soirée. Besides, never having met her, her being Asian, and the theme for the cookout being Asian, I was determined to do my best to make sure that this party was a culinary success!

Just before I was able to accumulate the donations needed to get my supplies, William told me that the attendance was going to be about half of what he'd originally predicted, and to shop for that reduced number, assuring me that there would be plenty of snacks and drinks available at the apartment to make sure that no one went away hungry. No problem I thought. I might even end up with enough free time at the gathering to relax and enjoy myself completely for a change. I was passionate about cooking, but I also enjoyed just kicking around at parties as well.

The rest of my week leading up to Friday evening was uneventful, but I found myself getting distracted at work thinking about the cook-in to come. That hadn't happened to me in a long, long time, as the associates with whom I worked held few surprises for me anymore.

I had to make sure that I set up the pot for creating the soup stock for the Ramen noodle recipe that I'd chosen well ahead of time; two days of cooking the pork bones were the least amount of time required to get it just right. This wouldn't be your local grocery store ramen noodle pack!

As was our custom, I put together the menu on small "mini-menu's" to be passed around to the participants. We had learned the hard way to anticipate allergies and personal dislikes among our food adventurers, and it helped me stay focused. Most of the time, I kept the foods that I prepared 'tuned' to the American palate, and tried to avoid the more exotic, controversial recipes. I don't like a lot of leftovers!

My mini-menu for Friday night was as follows:

Japanese Pork Fried Rice Tempura Shrimp/Fish/Veggies (tempura batter made from scratch) w/ground ginger and daikon radish Tempura Dipping Sauce (made from scratch) Ramen Noodle Soup (made from scratch) Chukamen noodles, shiitake mushrooms, leeks in a pork stock made from slow cooked pork bones, topped with a slab of slow-cooked pork loin.

At last Friday rolled in, and despite spending more time than I should have trying to coax that 'little surprise' out of William, he refused to give me even a hint. Asshole! At least he was available to give me some help getting my supplies to the lady's apartment. Actually, I had no idea where her apartment was. He, at least had the foresight to get directions. Stepping up to her door, with William and I staggering under the load of our gear and supplies, he was just about to knock when the door swung open. There, standing in the light from the living room beyond, stood the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen! Even William was smitten, not being able to utter a word, beyond "Uh, uh, Hi?"

Barely 5'2" tall, dressed in a red cocktail dress that caressed her body down to her knees, a figure that spoke directly to my groin, and a voice that came directly from heaven looked directly into my eyes and said, "So YOU are the famous IT chef William has raved about so much!" Ignoring William completely, she seemed to know instinctively which of us was which.

Her beautiful face, framed by shining black hair that flowed nearly to her waist and her almond-shaped eyes held me captivated; literally nailing me to the spot. My head was spinning, and everything south of my belt was tingling!

Fortunately, William recovered before me and hesitantly went into the introductions. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't even know the name of the hostess whose apartment I was using for our latest party! I had focused so intently on the process, I'd forgotten all about the participants! Jeesh! Nikki! That was her name. That's all I could remember for the moment! And the fact that she was smiling brightly at me did nothing to help my memory faculties a bit!

There were already a couple of guests at the apartment, friends of hers no doubt since I didn't know them, and they were kind enough to assist William and me carry my stuff into Nikki's kitchen. During all this time I had great difficulty keeping my eyes off her, unconsciously memorizing each curve, her sultry smile, even her perfume! Instead of satisfying my curiosity regarding Asian women, she was taking it to a new level with me!

Nikki kindly introduced us to her friends, a couple of young Asian ladies, who offered a lovely contrast to herself, one being somewhat on the slim side, even a bit skinny (Hiromi); and the other showing a bit more flesh than one would consider perfection in a figure (Keiko.) But to be perfectly fair, they were both beauties in their own right, and carried their particular shapes most attractively. In fact, William soon began staring at Keiko, and eventually started following her around like a little love-sick puppy.

I set up my operation quickly, once Nikki gave me a brief tour of her kitchen, and soon I had some pots and pans busy sending wonderful food aromas into the air. I had carefully pre-packaged the sauces and batter mixes that I'd assembled back at my apartment so that I could get the meal into the party without a lot of mess and bother. After all, I wanted to enjoy the camaraderie of the party as well as everyone else.

Nikki, apparently anxious to be the perfect hostess, stopped in to the kitchen from time to time to offer me hot sake, which she'd prepared on a small burner. I didn't want to admit to her that I was a lightweight in consuming alcohol, so I sipped very slowly. I couldn't help but notice that she'd press her tits into my back and side whenever she looked over my shoulder to observe my activities. That, with the scent from her soft jasmine perfume, was having an awkward effect on my cock, and I had to make a point of keeping my crotch aimed away from her line of sight so that she couldn't see my plight.

The last three couples from our regular group arrived, and William and Nikki shared the duties as host and hostess. By the time that I was able to let the kitchen take care of the food for a bit, I was able to join the group for a bit of chit-chat and all around gossip. Soon however, it was time to begin the feeding of the group, and everyone helped me set up for the Asian-style feast.

A deep-fat fryer was provided by the hostess, and I began preparing the prawns, fish chunks and veggies for the frying. Folks were already lining up on the fryer, and dipping into the cauldrons for healthy portions of the pork-fried rice and ramen soup. Generous quantities of warm sake, imported beers and wine were flowing as well, and I'll have to admit that this was turning into one of our more successful gatherings.

I'm not saying that just because of the buzz I was experiencing from the copious little cups of sake that I'd been plied with by Nikki, or because she felt so good rubbing up against me, or because of the wonderful way she kept looking at me under those lovely long lashes. No, I was really in heaven! That is, until William and Nikki dropped the bomb!

Only then did I understand what the surprise was that William was alluding to. Stepping to the center of the now satiated group, Nikki re-introduced her two friends, but not as friends. The two ladies were actually members of an exclusive Japanese-American club, and their specific function in the group was the judging of Japanese cuisine throughout the state. It appears that Nikki was rather renowned as a Class-A amateur Asian chef, especially in Japanese cuisine, and had just won a state-wide contest the previous week not far from here.

They were here at Nikki's request to judge my culinary offerings, and render a verdict comparison to Nikki's presentation at her last contest! Despite the fact that everyone in the room except Nikki and me had been given scorecards to grade on, only the Japanese judges' verdicts counted. It was also mentioned that the winner between our two efforts would win a prize (unspecified.)

I found myself beginning to sober up, and I felt a bit intimidated and ambushed by my buddy William. A set-up I thought. I wondered though, if I'd have done anything different had I known what was going to happen tonight. William, with great fan-fare, escorted Nikki and me back into the kitchen, where he told us to await the verdict.

Alone together in the kitchen, I looked cautiously over at her, discovering that she was staring at me with a bit of a smirk on her beautiful face. She finally said, "Your friend William had praised your culinary talents so much, so often, that I had to see for myself! Now that I've met you, I feel bad that I'll have to embarrass you in front of your friends with this little contest. Just so you know; I never lose!" With that final comment, she slowly walked up to me, and simply stood there a moment, looking directly into my eyes.

A small frown began to form between her beautiful eyes, and she reached her right hand up to the back of my neck, and began pulling my face down to her level. By then, my cock had totally taken over my body, and had produced a quite impressive tent in my jeans. As her lips met mine, I was totally transported into Heaven, Valhalla, Nirvana, whatever you want to call it. I was wishing that this night would never end; I didn't give a shit what the contest results were. I didn't do this for competition. But here, now, with Nikki's lips stuck to mine, and her tongue... Damn!

We had held that pose for just a few moments, when a noise at the kitchen door broke us apart with a jolt! William was standing there, politely clearing his throat, and asked us if we were ready to follow him to the dining room for the verdict. Nikki smiled, took hold of my hand and led me into the dining room behind William. We entered to see the whole party surrounding the scene of the crime, so to speak. There were two small stacks of note-papers sitting in the middle of the service table, and everyone appeared to be a little nervous, apparently about the outcome of the contest.

Our friends had been asked to judge my presentation against previous meals prepared by me; so I was really being judged against myself, which didn't bother me so much. But the two lone slips of paper, lying by themselves on the table, looked as friendly as scorpions, and both Nikki and I couldn't help staring at them apprehensively.

Nikki had a 'death-grip' on my hand, which indicated to me that she might not be as sure of the outcome of the competition as she'd let on in the kitchen. Perhaps she'd had second thoughts after sampling my menu, or more likely she was just a consummate competitor, and felt this way before any contest. Whatever the reason, I was relishing whatever contact I could have with her, no matter the cause! The warmth from her body was having a most electrifying effect on me; I felt my whole crotch tingling most disturbingly.

One of the wives from my group was appointed to read the results from the two slips that actually counted, and as she stepped up to the table, I heard a giggle burst out from the cluster of ladies, including our judges, at the side of the room. Looking down to where their eyes seemed focused, I noted that I had been sporting a most appreciative erection, pushing at the front of my jeans. Embarrassed, I quickly stepped behind Nikki, but I did NOT release my hold on her hand!

The results of the first note were announced quickly, to bring the group's attention back to the matter at hand, and surprisingly, Nikki and I had tied! There was the smattering of applause, with cheers on both sides, but I noticed an increased tenseness in Nikki's attitude. She disengaged her grip on my hand, looked about the room and seemed to brace herself for the final verdict. As for myself, I found that I had gotten caught up in the excitement of the game, and while the outcome was of little matter, I was having a blast! Suddenly, the whole room seemed to be holding its breath, and the reason was quite simple.

Another of the wives was given the task of reading the judgment of the last note, and as she stepped up to the table to retrieve the note, I noticed that the eyes of the entire room, with the exception of Nikki and me, were focused on my groin. Fortunately, I had still managed to use Nikki as my shield for the most part, and the distraction of the contest had finally allowed my rudeness to diminish somewhat.

Once the announcement was made, you could have heard a pin drop in the room; shortly changing into yelling and cheering on my behalf! I had beaten Nikki's scores on her last triumph by just less than a point! Still in shock, Nikki accepted the deep bows from the two Japanese judges, and turning to look at me, didn't even notice when they in turn bowed to the assembled guests and took their leave from the party.

William and a couple of the others rushed up and began slapping me on the shoulder and congratulating me for the win! Some had gathered their jackets, handbags and such, and began to make their way towards the door to depart.

Nikki was soon caught up in acknowledging the praise and thanks from the guests, bowing to each couple as they left for their homes. Soon there was just William, me and Nikki remaining in the doorway. William shot a quick look my way and waving a note that he had in his hand, winked at me and nodded towards the departing guests. I saw that it contained a name and phone number on it; and as he gave Nikki a quick peck on the cheek, he made his departure as well. But not so fast that I couldn't notice that the name on the note read Keiko!