Choto Temple Ch 13
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Choto Temple Ch. 11 free porn video
When I was interviewing Zerzinski this afternoon, I was once again thinking about the vastly different reactions people can have to the whole Donor X phenomenon. As well as to Zerzinski’s specific kind of sexual orientation, and how people respond to that.
The evening’s readings were a fascinating exercise in contrast.
Rie never came over that night. Presumably, Zerzinski was keeping her occupied. Though I didn’t know, and kept trying not to care. It was a different, though equally beautiful young woman who knocked on my door.
She wasn’t wearing the loose dresses so many of the others there wore. She had tight jeans on, and an equally tight top. All of which served to emphasize each perfect curve of her lean little body.
I glanced between her legs. Trying to be subtle about it, in a brief moment when she was looking somewhere else.
If you didn’t know, I’d imagine you wouldn’t notice anything amiss. But with those jeans on, it was easy to see the slight bump around where her clit would be.
Either a very unusually large clit, or the most convincing trans woman on the planet. Or a Device. My guess was the latter.
‘Dinner, Danu-san,’ she said, as she entered the cabin, putting a tray of delicious-smelling food on the table.
‘Arigato.’
She made no pretense of sticking around to keep me company. I don’t think she spoke much English, anyway. As soon as she put the tray down, she said two things. Which I believe were something along the lines of ‘itedakimas’ and ‘oyasumi.’ Have a good dinner and good night.
Alone, I swung my laptop around next to the tray of food, and began eating and reading.
Before reading the document attached to Cy’s most recent email, I wanted to finish reading the Choto girl’s diary entries that I had begun earlier.
Day 21
Sleeping last night was difficult. And then my pussy hurt all day today.
For the most part, it was a good kind of pain. Like the way your muscles hurt after going for a run. Or maybe more like the way they hurt after a boxing match. Not that I would know about that from direct experience.
Trying to distinguish that pain from the pain in my clitoris is difficult. My clit seems to have achieved a new level of hardness. Like the blood that keeps flowing into it is just going to stay there. Maybe it will harden further. Then shrivel up and fall off.
I’m glad to have had the opportunity to do what I have done over the past three weeks, though. Now I have to decide what to do next.
Most Choto girls leave at this point. Of course they have lives to go back to. Jobs, rent, boyfriends. I still stay at my parents’ place, and don’t have any of those encumbrances to consider.
Of course, as well, and probably more to the point, most Choto girls might be happy to serve the Temple for a few weeks. Knowing they will be inoculated at the end of it. It’s only some that want more. Or perhaps less.
To which group do I belong?
Day 22
The tradition here is the Choto girls leave at this point for three days. And then either come back, or stay gone, depending. We may remove our Device. But if we remove it for more than 24 hours before putting it back on, we’re done with the Temple.
I don’t want to go home now. So I made plans to visit a friend who lives not far away, in Fukuoka. Sitting on the train again this morning, feeling it vibrating gently beneath my seat, my hand wandered between my legs. And to the familiar object that was still keeping my clitoris in a state of sensory deprivation.
Having the ability to remove it is new, and strange. Knowing that at any moment, I could take it off. And then it will send a signal into the ether. And if I don’t put it back on soon enough, I’d be out of the Temple.
I’m really not so concerned about being in or out of the Temple, though, really. More just paralyzed with indecision about what to do with this thing between my legs. Now that I have more of a choice.
Of course I always had a choice. To walk away. To get some wire cutters. But now it is more of a choice.
It is a choice given to me. With the express purpose of me making a decision.
Day 23
It’s been good to visit Keiko. She knows where I’ve been, and she also knows I can’t talk about the details. She seems curious but not resentful that I have to withhold things.
Even if I didn’t have to stay quiet, would I want to talk about this with her? She’s a close friend, and we know each other well. But I don’t know if she would relate to me on this one. Not sure how many people would. They’d think I’m crazy. A masochist, for sure. Which is automatically assumed to be a bad thing, of course, in the world of normative behavior.
Day 24
My clit woke me up several times last night. It felt like blood was rushing in and then rushing out, and it was tingling. I almost removed the Device. I wanted to touch it so much. But the wanting made me feel so alive, too.
Each time I almost removed it, I thought about the consequences. What would it feel like? It would be good to have an orgasm. I’d probably have several in a row at least, once I got going. And afterwards, would I feel fulfilled? Or empty and drained?
Is a moment of pleasure, or even many moments of pleasure, better than the continual rush of desire, combined with the knowledge that I am serving a purpose? It feels good to serve a purpose. The feeling isn’t like the rush of an orgasm. It’s much more subtle.
I do want to go back to the Temple, I’ve decided. But I think I should test myself further, and see if I really want this. It’s been very hard to keep the Device on when I’ve constantly known I could now remove it at any time.
But then, it occurred to me, what would be harder still would be to remove it, while maintaining the same discipline.
I’m now going to take it off for the night.
Day 25
Last night I questioned everything. My sexuality. My sanity. My idea of what gives life purpose. Probably other things, too.
I took off the Device before I went to bed last night. As soon as I did, it was as if all I could feel was the air rushing to meet my clitoris.
I lay down. And still, the only part of my body that seemed to be feeling anything was my clit. I cupped my fingers around it.
Pushing against it sent shocks throughout my body. Raising my fingers so they formed a cover, with my clit in the middle, bereft of physical contact, felt familiar, sort of peaceful.
But then pushing my fingers down upon it again was impossible to resist. I just kept on going back and forth with that. Until, just from being held, without rubbing it at all with my fingers, my clit was ready to explode. An orgasm pushing out from within me once again. It had been so long.
When that happened the first time, I squeezed my legs together to hold it at bay. Which itself almost made me come. I quickly pulled my legs apart. But the sheet on top of me fell down between my legs, and brushed against my clit. More waves throughout my body. Pushing me again towards the brink.
I pulled the sheets away. Laying still on the bed, legs spread apart, nothing touching my clit. I focused on breathing. Eventually, slowly, painfully, the throbbing in my clit lessened. My breathing became less forced. And my body relaxed just slightly.
The idea of sleeping seemed completely off the table. I was exhausted from the pressure. The kind of exhaustion that feels good and terrible at the same time.
There is the inherent sense of purpose within it, as well as the sense of desperation. What is this desperation? It’s that sense that any second now, everything could go wrong, in some undetermined way.
Once the danger of the orgasm I was keeping at bay subsided, my clit, still throbbing, still so tense, so lonely, needed the company of my fingers. Which
it had not had for a long time – and then only under Robu-san’s watchful eye.
When I held it again, once again the shock waves. And the building tension that had, I realized, just barely gone anywhere. Within a minute or so of holding it, I had to remove my hand again. And make sure to keep the sheet from falling between my legs.
I gave up on relaxing. On sleeping. And focused only on making it through the night without coming. Which ultimately meant without touching. Barely moving, lying still. Becoming more tired by the hour, with no chance of sleeping.
By the time the sun came up I was full of self-doubt. Voices of self-criticism ringing between my ears. Making no sense, but causing pain nonetheless.
The emotional pain and exhaustion of my body was eclipsed by the pain between my legs, however. This was the pain that gave me focus. And focusing on it somehow brought me calm – though a very tense, tired calm.
I had made it through the night. I touched my throbbing, hard, purple clit one more time. Felt the shock waves one more time, before putting the Device back on. The sensory deprivation it brought with it was a welcome relief.
As I write this, I am on the train back to Yamaguchi. I want to go back. I want to give back of the Device again. I don’t want the control.
Day 26
Being back on the mountain, everything seems so familiar. The landscape, the trees, the houses. The girls everywhere. Some familiar faces, many new ones, always.
By now all the Purification Temple members have turned over several times. Most of the Choto girls, too. The ones left are mostly now others who have stayed past their inoculation.
I slept well last night. I had been so tired from the night before. My clit hurt, but in a reassuring kind of way. The urgency was mostly gone. My powerlessness to do anything about it helps a lot with that, I think.
Day 27
Robu-san took me for a walk today. He was very open in terms of the things he said during our walk.
‘I’m in awe of you,’ was how he put it.
‘The Choto girls who stay past their inoculation,’ he said. ‘You guys are nuts.’
‘Probably we are,’ I said. ‘Are you?’
‘Oh, for sure.’
He was quick to respond to that question.
‘We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other now,’ he said. ‘I hope that’s OK.’
‘I think,’ I said, ‘the English expression is, ‘I am at your service.”
I searched his face as I said this. And was pleased to see nothing but the purest smile.
Day 28
I’m learning now what Robu-san meant by seeing me more often.
I had noticed before that he spent time with Choto girls during the day, and Purification girls at night. I had also noticed that his weekends were often spent with different visitors from other places. Who were as often men as women.
What I hadn’t noticed is the fact that his first meetings of each weekday were not just with Choto girls. They were always with Choto girls who had stayed, like me. And there were only a handful of us.
Day 29
This morning, again the familiar three long buzzes that tell me I’m wanted.
When he removed the Device it was thrilling now. To know that whatever I did now was purely for him. Purely for the Temple. Free of any potential ulterior motives.
I enjoyed performing for him even more than the last time.
Though again, it couldn’t last long. The tension built up so quickly. And in the end, I could only have my hand nearby, but not touching. Or else I would do what Choto girls don’t.
When he put the Device back on he just started fucking me right away.
Whatever I’m doing, it seems to be working. My entrance was as tight now as it had been before. But I was more prepared for the pain this time. And my cervix seemed more ready for the repeated jabs from his very erect penis.
When he stopped fucking me, he stopped quickly, and breathed in deeply when he did. He slowly withdrew from me, without coming inside me. I felt disappointed, but I don’t think I showed it.
‘I need to save my energy,’ he said.
Day 30
It’s funny, now, seeing the Purification girls. They seem so distant from me now. They’re here to get something. They may also be here to serve, or they just know they have to, in order to get. They seem lost, compared to how I feel now. Which, I realized today, is a bit the opposite of lost.
I feel found.
The diary continued, but began to seem more repetitive after that. And my interest drifted more in the direction of Cy’s most recent email.
It was blank, aside for the subject line. And an attachment. Which appeared to be a number of screen shots of a LiveJournal page which was listed as ‘private.’ Only so private, apparently.
Unlike the Choto girl, this one wasn’t posting every day. More like when she had something she wanted to make a note of. Her posts each had a subject line.
A letter in the mail
This whole thing has been awkward from the beginning.
I skipped a grade, so I was only 16 when I entered the Purification Temple lottery. Which is basically just open to girls like me – still in high school, from Fukushima Prefecture.
The age of consent in Japan is 13, however. So I don’t see why they require everyone to get parental consent. Even just to apply. But they did.
Luckily, although my parents are basically very traditional, they are both government workers. Civil servants. They already knew about the Purification Temple. Which was, after all, a local government initiative. Though definitely one of their stranger ones.
So they said yes. Of course there’s less than a 0.1% chance of getting picked. So they probably didn’t think much about it, after that particular dinner conversation when I asked for their permission.
But now that the letter has came in the mail today, it all seems much more real.
I know I should be excited. And I’m sure preventing cancer is a good thing. Especially for us here in Fukushima. But I really just did it because everybody else was doing it.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate this Temple. But the guy sounds weird.
And the whole thing is just so ridiculously Orientalist. Really – have submissive sex with the white man and get cured? Come on. But I guess I’ll do it.
Training
I had to sign another thing. Which is basically a gag order, agreeing not to talk about anything that’s related to the Temple.
Everything after that was basically a daily lesson via email on Donor X’s sexual practices. In great detail.
If the very existence of the Purification Temple is Orientalist in nature, the fact that Donor X is obsessed with denying women orgasms is that much more Orientalist.
I realize for those of us doing this it’s just an act, like playing a part in a porn video, and then it’s over, thankfully. But what a reality it must be for him. It’s creepy.
Mostly the lessons have just been basically about how to play your part in a porn video. They’re very direct about that. Which is kind of refreshing.
We actually are supposed to watch porn. And they send us links. We’re supposed to make our own porn, but not for putting online or anything. Just for practicing.
They say it’s good practice, since we’ll be doing things like this in front of an audience. Even if it’s just an audience of one guy.
I may be a school girl, and I may have a cute school girl dress on six days a week, but I’m not exactly innocent. I first watched porn when I was like ten or so.
I have in fact heard of all of this stuff, more or less by accident. It’s not actually very popular, as these things go. Not many views on those videos.
The stuff that is really popular is mostly pretty revolting. So it could definitely be way worse.
Why aren’t there more guys who are just into normal sex?
Arrival in Yamaguchi
It’s a beautiful place in the mountains. My first time in this part of Japan. The people seem nice. It’s clean. The food is good.
The Choto girls are a mysterious bunch. I guess I can imagine why a woman who’s not from Fukushima might want to join this Temple for the necessary duration in order to get what they need. But some of these girls stay beyond that. That’s scary.
Our training has actually involved lifting up our dresses and demonstrating our edging abilities for a couple of the women who run this place. Doing this was very difficult. It seemed much more humiliating than doing it for a man. I don’t know if that was supposed to be part of the point.
But eventually I got over that feeling enough to do what I was supposed to do. The feeling of wanting to come in front of this woman was weird, too. Then I was really glad I wasn’t supposed to come. Because not coming in front of her seemed somewhat less humiliating, in comparison.
We also had to demonstrate our fellatio skills with a dildo. Which is gross. It’s not the same. They’re rubbery. It’s like putting a tire in your mouth.
They haven’t made us have sex with the dildos. I guess they figured we knew what was involved there? I guess nobody ever went in for an inoculation here without realizing that sexual intercourse was on the agenda. The word was sufficiently out on that one.
Inoculated
Until this evening, I had never seen the white guy, the gaijing, in person. I had been so prepared to sort of be his performer, that I was very nervous. A sort of performance anxiety perhaps. It was a relief that he was warm, and seemed nice.
Also a relief that he spoke Japanese. I can read English OK, but I can’t understand a thing the gaijing say when they talk. Even after studying English the past eight years in school, and getting good grades…
He was a fairly fit, older man. The hairiest man I’ve ever seen up close, for sure. But until tonight I had never seen a guy up close who wasn’t Japanese. And we’re not a very hairy people.
Plus, the guys I’ve been with are barely past puberty. So if they’re going to end up with any body hair, they haven’t started on that yet.
He showed me to a bed, and he sat on the bed next to me, as I lay down. He was dressed in a robe, with a loose cloth belt holding it together.
On the wall there was a clock, and Robu-san pointed to it. It read 10:00. Then it started counting down, and I realized it was a timer.
I knew what to do. And actually it was by now like the knowledge was in my fingers. Which just automatically went towards my dress, lifting it up. And then under my panties.
As I started touching myself under my panties, Robu-san gently pulled my panties off. I guess I still feel pretty cynical about the dude, but the way he pulled my panties off so smoothly was pretty hot.
After about two minutes I was about to come. Which was definitely faster than usual. When I pulled away for the first time, Robu-san put his hand on top of my pussy. It was funny.
On the one hand, whatever, he could do what he wanted to during these ten minutes when I’m supposed to be denying myself an orgasm.
On the other hand, my body started moving up and down a bit. And I realized I wanted him to remove his hand, so I could get to the edge again. That was the first time I ever saw a point to this thing, and it didn’t last long.
Oprah
- 17.12.2021
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