Shame thickens around me as Yutaro wraps his hand around mine, forcing me to rub the shaft. “You move like this.” With every stroke, he goes quicker, and I begin to feel sick.
“You’ll perform the act until your husband orgasms,” Yutaro says. “Now suck the shaft into your mouth.”
“What?” I gasp.
My question earns me another slap. “Do as you’re told!”
Tears sting my eyes as I take the weird-smelling rubber head into my mouth.
“Suck it as deep and hard as you can,” the clinical order comes.
When a tear escapes my eye, Yutaro nods. “Some men like it if you cry. If you see it’s a turn-on for Mr. Vitale, then you can fight, but if it angers him, you have to be submissive and hold back the tears. You have to please him. You will not bring shame to the Yakuza.”
I pull the dildo from my mouth, but when Yutaro glares at me, I quickly begin to suck the thing again.
“Take it deep until you gag,” he demands.
Another piece of me shrivels and turns to ash while I learn how to perform a blow job, and by the time Yutaro is satisfied with the progress I’ve made, I feel violated.
“Time for your cooking lesson,” he says, and when I follow him to where a chef is waiting, my stomach growls. “Practice with the dildo every day until it becomes second nature.”
I nod as we enter the kitchen. The instant my eyes lock on the pieces of steak, potatoes, apples, and other ingredients, my stomach lets out another loud grumble.
Learning to make food while I’m being starved has been downright unbearable. I never thought I’d miss the days when I had to pretend to be Ryo. At least, back then, I was able to eat and drink whatever I wanted.
“Today you’re learning how to make hamburgers and fries, and apple pie.”
For the next hour, I’m taught how to turn a steak into a burger patty and make perfect fries. I’m even shown how to make fresh rolls before we move on to the apple pie.
The instant Yutaro and the chef have their backs turned to me, I grab one of the botched burger patties and shove it into my pocket.
By the time I’ve successfully recreated the meals, I’m being tortured by the mouthwatering aromas hanging in the air.
“I need to use the restroom,” I say before hurrying toward the doorway.
“Meet me in the laundry room when you’re done,” Yutaro orders.
I nod, and after darting into the restroom, I shut the door behind me. I dig the burger patty from my pocket and pick the fluff off it with trembling hands. Even though I know I’m going to be sick from eating the greasy meat, I take a bite and almost moan, but swallow the sound down.
I hope I don’t vomit later and manage to keep the meat down.
There’s no time to savor my stolen meal, and after I’m done, I wash my hands and make sure my mouth and teeth are clean.
My eyes lock on my reflection, and once again, I’m shocked by the face staring back at me.
It’s going to take a long while before I get used to what I look like.
Leaving the restroom, I go to the laundry room for another lesson in washing clothes and ironing.
As night creeps closer, I have a pounding headache from all the slaps Yutaro’s given me throughout the day.
An hour before midnight, Yutaro finally says, “Go eat and sleep. Be up at five. Tomorrow, you have to learn about Western culture.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I probably know more than he can ever teach me, but I swallow the words back.
I return to the kitchen where the bowl of steamed rice is waiting, and as I eat my single meal for the day, I try not to think about what life will be like in New York.
Augusto
