Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Author: Hungry Guy Title: Japanese Man Face Restaurant 2 Summary: Tom and Yuki become face chairs in a kinky Japanese restaurant. Keywords: F/MF oral humil rough het Fdom Msub Fsub Mpov Fpov caution Language: english, japanese This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. You may copy it, create derivative works, and redistribute it for any purpose provided that you attribute the original author (Hungry Guy) and provide a link to the original story. To view a copy of the license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ This story was inspired by this drawing on Pinterest by Kunihiko Takeuchi saved to ~川ナナミ,: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/457959855835531543/ Additional drawings by this artist can be found here: https://www.pinterest.com/takeuchikunihik/%E6%98%A5%E5%B7%9D%E3%83%8A%E3%83 %9F%E3%82%AA/ ******** All the following month, Yuki walked past the Man Face Restaurant every day during her lunch break. Then she noticed the "Help Wanted" sign was down one day. She returned to the restaurant for dinner after school that night. The hostess at the top of the stairs recognized her. "Welcome back! How many in your party?" "Just me," answered Yuki. "Would you like the table where your friend is?" "Yes, please, if he's available, but may I speak to the manager for a moment first before being seated?" "One minute please." The hostess picked up the phone and spoke quietly for a minute. The manager appeared a few minutes later. "You again? I told you he's not for sale." "I know. You told me that first day we met that you'd consider hiring a woman because you can't get enough permanent men. Is that still true?" "Yes, I'd consider a woman." "Then I offer myself in exchange for Tom. Let Tom go and I'll take his place." "Perhaps you'd prefer to find a different job, then. If we had a vacancy, we'd accept a woman if we couldn't find a man. But we wouldn't want to give up a man to replace him with a woman. And we're currently at maximum employment." "Okay," said Yuki. "But the next time you have a vacant position, you'll consider hiring a woman?" "Yes," said the manager who then turned without bowing(1), and returned to the restaurant. "I can show you to your table now," said the hostess. "Can I have a different table? A different man tonight?" "Oh," the hostess seemed surprised at the request. "Of course. Variety is nice." A few minutes later, the hostess asked Yuki to follow her to the changing room where she stripped naked below the waist and put on one of those paper skirts. She was then taken to a table for two. She caught the man's eye for a moment before she sat on him. His terrified look made her shudder. Yuki adjusted herself to get comfortable while sitting on what felt like a bowling ball, letting the man's nose slip into her vagina. She already felt herself getting wet. In typical Japanese efficiency, a waitress handed Yuki a menu within a minute of being seated. She checked the time on her phone then looked through the menu. The waitress stopped at her table a few minutes later. "Are you ready to order?" "I can't decide," said Yuki. "It all looks so good. May I have a few more minutes to decide." "Of course," said the waitress. "I recommend the Ramen. And please remember to let your man take a breath once every few minutes." "I will," thank you. The waitress bowed and walked away. Yuki decided on the Ramen after all and ordered it when the waitress returned. Glancing at her phone, she saw that five minutes had passed since she sat. She leaned back and put her ear to the wall where she just heard silence. "I'm very sorry, whoever you are," whispered Yuki and sat waiting for her meal to arrive. Her Ramen arrived about five minutes later, ten minutes since she sat. She ate slowly, not truly being aware of the taste of the food at all. Despite the chill air conditioning, she was perspiring heavily. Japanese prisons are not as civil as in most other Westernized nations. Yuki finished her Ramen and the waitress arrived promptly to remove the bowl. "How was it?" asked the waitress. "Very good," said Yuki though she never even noticed the taste of the food as she swallowed it. "Dessert?" asked the waitress. "Yes, please," said Yuki. A different waitress rolled a dessert cart to Yuki's table. She chose a slice of creamy chocolate mousse. Trying to enjoy the mousse, or at least taste it, she ate slowly. After she finished that, Yuki waited patiently for the waitress to deliver the bill, rather than call her over as is the custom in Japan. The waitress finally left the bill in a tray on the table about ten minutes later. "You may pay on your way out." "Thank you," said Yuki and waited about ten more minutes. Looking at her phone, about a half an hour had passes since she sat. She stood to leave. Then, lifting her hand to her face, she kissed her fingers and touched them to the dead man's lips. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "But thank you." ******** Yuki stopped to use the toilet at school before leaving for her lunch break. Walking past the restaurant, the "Help Wanted" sign was back up. She climbed the stairs to the hostess. "How many in your party?" asked the hostess. "Actually, I'd like to take the job from the sign below?" "I think we only hire men, but I'll check with the manager. One minute please." The hostess spoke on the phone for a minute then said, "She's busy at the moment. Would you prefer to wait or come back later?" "Let me have a table while I wait, please." Changing into one of those paper skirts, Yuki was escorted into the dining room. Noticing Tom's table free, she asked the hostess, "May I sit at that table?" "Of course," said the hostess who led Yuki to Tom's table. She smiled down at Tom who smiled back up at her. As she sat, Tom whispered to her, "Are you getting me out of here soon, Yuki San?" "Soon, we'll be working together again, Tom San." She couldn't help noticing Tom stare directly at her naked lady parts as she then sat on him, pressing her most intimate flesh against his face -- the face of a good friend, but certainly not a lover. Once again, she set her phone on the table and turned on a metronome app that she downloaded. She set it to blink and beep almost inaudibly every 30 seconds. She knew that 30 seconds was a painfully long time to hold one's breath, but she also knew that the men here were typically forced to hold their breath for much longer than 30 seconds at a time, sometimes minutes at a time. She didn't want to stand out as different. Being different is something that just isn't done in Japan. Yuki ordered, waited, and ate, all while letting Tom take a breath every 30 seconds. As she ate, she noticed the manager walking around. She stood and approached her. "May I speak with you at a convenient time?" asked Yuki. "Why?" "I want to take the job?" "You?" asked the manager with a bit of surprise. "You want the job?" "Yes," said Yuki. "Permanently." The manager rubbed her chin and then said, "Very well. Finish your meal and then come to the kitchen." Later in the kitchen office as she was about to stamp the permanent contract with her hanko, she said, "I do have one request, though." "You for him?" asked the manager. "No. I want to be next to him," said Yuki. "He's at a table for two with no empty slots next to him." "You can move people around, can't you?" "I suppose we can. But we've never had reason to move someone to a different table after he's installed." "You have reason now. You're always busy. You need a new face. I'm offering myself with one condition that you can easily meet. Put us on an end of a row of tables so that there's nobody between us, and let us hold hands." "Hold hands?" the manager said a little surprised. "Yes," said Yuki. "You ask a lot," said the manager. "And you need permanent people." "Very well. But we have a rule. No conversation when the restaurant is open and guests are seated." Yuki and the manager both stamped the contract after the manager wrote the additional conditions on the margins and she read them over carefully. She then waited in the office until the restaurant closed. "You can leave and return when the restaurant closes," said the manager. "I don't mind waiting," said Yuki. Mainly, she didn't want to be seen in public after abandoning her teaching position at school during lunch -- a very un-Japanese thing to do. She waited there some time even after the restaurant closed, then the manager asked her to undress, right there in the office. "Naked?" asked Yuki. "Yes," said the manager. "Naked." Yuki undressed and set her clothes and purse and other personal items on the chair. "Now follow me," said the manager who led Yuki through the restaurant. The waitresses cleaning and vacuuming paid no attention to the manager leading a naked woman through the restaurant. Yuki was led to one of the tables for four along the front wall of the restaurant. Large windows at each table overlooked the street below. She was led to the very last table in the row where Tom was the very last seat and embedded in a true wall with no tables beyond. He was the seat closest to the window. The seat along the aisle was unoccupied. Tom looked up at her with shock in his eyes, but said nothing. "Now step through the hole in the center of the rubber membrane, lie down, and slide yourself into it up to your waist," said the manager. "That tiny hole?" said Yuki. "It's only a few centimeters in diameter." "It'll stretch," said the manager. Yuki sat in the surface where here head would ultimately rest and pushed her feet into the hole, then her legs, and slid herself in. The rubber membrane did stretch, but was was painfully tight around her waist. She then pushed her hands through the other two holes by her side. The manager then stood and let a pair of waitresses finish the installation of her. One waitress slid a thick leather strap up under her armpit across her chest above her boobs, and down under the other armpit. The waitress buckled something and then made a ratcheting sound. The strap became painfully tight at that. The other waitress had opened a panel in the wall and was strapping her waist down, her elbows, one wrist, thighs, and ankles. Her free hand was placed in Tom's hand and they linked fingers. She turned her head to face him and they smiled at each other. Then something hard was slid between her legs against her crotch. "Do these straps need to be so tight?" she asked. The manager said, "Tighter." The waitresses ratcheted the straps a few more clicks as they became sadistically painful. Yuki was totally immobile. She could only wiggle her hands and feet, and could make no contact with any surface. The waitresses wrapped their hands in some sort of cloth that became cold and wet. Then she felt their hands being taped up. After they closed the panel in the wall, they all went to other duties. "What did you do?" asked Tom. "I offered to trade myself for you," she said. "Put me in your place and let you go free. But they refused." "You wanted to do that? For me?" "Yes." "Why, Yuki San." Yuki started sobbing. "Do you want to know the truth?" "Yes." Yuki looked away from him. "You're going to hate me." "No I won't," he said. "This is my fault," said Yuki. "I led you here that day. I knew you'd see that ad and be curious. I talked you into asking about the job even though you were hesitant and suspicious. I don't blame you if you can't forgive me." "I forgive you, Yuki San." He looked away then looked back. "But why did you do that?" "I wanted to come here for dinner," she said. "So? What does that have to do with me?" She just looked down and stared at him through upturned eyes. "Oh..." he said. "Why didn't you call me to come with you to sign that contract?" "I, uh, don't remember," said Tom. "There's lots of things I find I can't remember." "Like what?" she asked. "I think I used to live in a different country, but I'm not sure." "America," she said. "Oh! Yes. Right. America. I think that was the name of it." "Oh God!" she gasped. "That's going to happen to me, too, isn't it?" "What's going to happen to you, too?" "Nothing," she said with a sob. "I don't want to think about it." "Okay," he said and squeezed her hand. That wrap around their hands had become uncomfortably warm. They had put a cast around their hands. From working with children doing crafts, she knew that plaster gets warm when it cures. "How long do we have?" she asked. "Until the restaurant opens for dinner?" "Yeah," she said. "Not sure," he said. "About an hour maybe." "So now we wait," she said. "Yeah," he said. "Now we wait." Yuki stared at the ceiling. She looked around. She had an excellent view of the underside of their table. Two Japanese men were the seats on the other side of their table, but she could barely make out the tops of their heads. Some of the men/chairs were talking off in the distance in hushed voices, but she couldn't hear them clear enough to know what they were saying. She could also see the sky through the window. At least that was a pleasant view. She then said with alarm, "When the restaurant opens, women are going to come in and sit their bare asses on our faces." "Yes," he said. "That's what's going to happen." "I'm not lesbian," she said. "I never thought you were," he said. "The idea of another woman touching her vagina to my face is just so perverted and disgusting," she said. "Thinking about it is making me feel like I have to vomit. I'm fighting to keep it down." "A man is holding your hand," he said. "That makes you not lesbian." She smiled at him and blew him a kiss. "It's not much better for me, either." "What's it like for you?" she asked. "Painful," he said. "Painful? Not sexy?" "Not at all sexy. Mostly just flat out painful. The weight. The holding my breath for so long at a time. The humiliation of being used as a _thing_ by countless total strangers. The filth. Some of these women don't clean their bottoms very well, or at all. But mostly just unbelievably painful." "Painful," she said again. "That's the last thing I'd have expected you to say, except for the breath part." "Even a light girl like you," he said. "It felt like my face was in a vise being slowly cranked." "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I thought you'd enjoy it as long as I let you breathe every few seconds." "You have a pretty vagina," he said. "What? I do?" "Yes," he said. "You trim yours nice. Most Japanese woman have a thick jungle down there. And Western girls are completely shaved. Both extremes are gross." "That's not a mental image I wanted," she said. "I've seen, felt, and tasted a lot of vaginas and anuses over the past month." "What?" she shrieked. "Anuses? Seriously?" "Well, yeah," he said. "When women sit on me, my nose is usually up inside their vagina and their anus is pressed against my lips." "No!" she cried. "Oh, God! No!" "Yeah," he said. "It's bad enough that another woman's vagina will be pressed to my face, but I'll be kissing another woman's anus?" "Well, yeah, actually, you will. It's nasty." "Nasty? Nasty? Picture yourself kissing another man's anus! 'Nasty' doesn't begin to describe it." "Right," he said. "Was it nasty?" she asked. "I mean, with me?" "Well," he said. "You had a tiny bit of feces stuck to your anus." "Oh, God!" she said. "I'm sorry. I used the toilet before I left school for lunch earlier." "You left it stuck to my lip when you got off me earlier," he said. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I hope the waitress washed it off right away." "No. I licked it into my mouth and swallowed it." "You what? Why?" "Because it came from you," he said. "I don't know what to say to that," she said. "Don't say anything, then," he said. "How long, now?" she asked. "I guess about a half hour," he said. "I feel like I'm on death row about to be taken to my execution in a few minutes," she said. The manager walked past and said, "Hush, you two! No conversation! No talk!" "What did the manager just say?" he asked. "All I heard was, '(TM)<<<---くだ*,"+/-可*,-,な,(C)+/-(TM)会 (C)+/-はできま>,"-,'." "We're not allowed to talk to each other," said Yuki. "That's unfair. Aren't the other chairs allowed to talk to each other when the restaurant is closed?" "Yeah, but the manager is kind'a mean," he said. "I don't want to die," she said. He squeezed her hand. "I could die tonight," she said. "We could die tonight." "Yeah," he said. "We could. Every so often there's a commotion after the restaurant closes. Some big burly guys covered in tattoos come in and take a body out in a garbage bag. Happened just yesterday, actually." "Yakuza," she said. "What?" he asked. "They're called Yakuza. Gangsters. That's why normal Japanese people are terrified of foreigners with tattoos." They waited in silence for the restaurant to open. Glancing at each other occasionally, they squeezed each others' hands. The restaurant opened and women started filtering in. Their table remained empty for the first 15 minutes or so, after all they were the farthest table from the changing room exit. Then a group of women was brought to their table. "A woman?" said one of the guests. "And an American?" said another. "Yes," said the hostess. "Is that okay?" "Yes," said the women. One woman stepped over Yuki and straddled Tom and sat on him. Yuki's hand in Tom's spasmed hard a moment later. Seconds passed. Then what seemed like minutes. Yuki and Tom were both thrashing and struggling together, hand in hand. They were both pulling and yanking their combined hand around wildly, but Tom's strength won out over hers more often than not, pulling their combined hand in whatever direction he happened to convulse in at that moment. An eternity later, or maybe just an hour or so, the women stood and left, leaving Tom and Yuki gasping and panting. Tom looked over at Yuki. "Don't look at me!" she squealed. Tom just looked away and squeezed her hand. "I just spent the last hour kissing another woman's anus," said Yuki. "Uh..." said Tom. "I just spent the last hour kissing another woman's anus," repeated Yuki over and over. A waitress walked past and said, "Shhhh! Hana San will hear." "I'm a filthy, disgusting, piece of feces," said Yuki. "How can you stand to touch me?" "I..." stammered Tom. "I love you." Yuki didn't answer, and they weren't used again until about 30 to 40 minutes later. This time, only three women were brought to their table. Two of them sat on the side opposite Tom and Yuki. The third sat on Tom. After the three women finished their dinner about an hour later, Yuki said, "I'm sorry, Tom San. I know this is humiliating for you too." "Hush!" scolded the manager again. "This is your last warning." It wasn't long before four more women were brought to their table. The restaurant became very busy after that, and the two of them didn't get a chance to talk between dinner guests any more. When the restaurant finally closed for the day after midnight, and after the staff had cleaned, vacuumed, fed all the manseats and the one womanseat, shut off the lights, and left, Yuki said, "I love you, too, Tom San. Too bad we can never be married." "We can be married, Yuki San. "We can seal our marriage by exchanging gifts." "How is that possible we can exchange gifts now?" she asked. Tom hocked up some snot and spit it into his mouth. He swirled it around to mix it with some saliva. "Open your mouth, Yuki San." She did so, and he spit the disgusting glob into her mouth. "There," he said. "We're married. A lump of feces and a glob of snot are our wedding gifts to each other." "I'll treasure your wad of snot more than any other gift I ever received, Tom San. I honestly say that with total sincerity, so help me God." "Same here," said Tom. "I can almost still taste that lump of your feces. I'm glad they let us hold hands." "That was one of my conditions to taking the job. Holding your hand and being placed next to you." "Oh, so that's why they moved me?" "Yes, but I wish I could be holding something of you other than your hand, Tom San." "Me, too," he said with a sigh. ******** Early next morning before the restaurant opened, Yuki woke and shook Tom's hand to wake him. "Good morning, husband" she said. He blew her a kiss, which she blew back. "I didn't think it through," he said. "You what?" she said. "As I was walking up those stairs, I was thinking how erotic it would be to have random women sit on my face for an afternoon." "I know," she said. "It just didn't occur to me how painful it would be for 100 pounds or more to be placed on my face for hours at a time. I thought I'd just be holding my breath for a few seconds at a time. No problem, I thought. It didn't occur to me they'd be making me hold my breath for minutes at a time. And I didn't realize at the time how humiliating it would be to have random women I didn't know, and who don't know me, squashing her privates against my face and just treat me like a piece of furniture while they ate and talked. I thought that would be so hot. That's a fantasy every guy has, but after you experience it for real, it's not hot. It's fucking degrading." "Don't forget you now have a wife who loves you," she said. He blew her a kiss, which she then blew back. "Do women ever acknowledge you as a person?" she asked. "Ever? And does that make it less humiliating?" "Sometimes. But rarely. Maybe it's embarrassing for them, too, at first. Most women avoid eye contact with me as they sit." "Yeah," she said. "I noticed the same thing the short time I've been here." "Once, one woman started rubbing herself against my face, so I stuck my tongue out and licked her as she slid back and forth. I think I helped her orgasm right here at the table." Yuki giggled. "Wasn't that nice of you." "Sometimes they fart into my mouth," he said. "Yeah, that just happened to me," she said. "One woman kept farting, so I stuck my tongue up into her anus as deep as I could as kind of a plug to make her stop." "Ewwww!" she said. "Yea, ewww is right," he said. "Big mistake. She pushed a turd out of her anus into my mouth." "Urp," groaned Yuki. "She stayed seated and didn't move, so I had to swallow it," he said. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "At least she stopped farting after that." "She was farting because she had to poop," said Yuki. "Yeah, probably," said Tom. "Please don't stick your tongue up any more women's anuses, Tom San." "I won't," he said. "Do you ever see the same people come back? Do you ever recognize the faces of repeat customers?" "Well, I don't even look at their faces any more," he said. "But yeah, I sometimes recognize the same woman." "How if you don't see their faces?" she asked. "Imagine a world where you can't see anyone's face for whatever reason. Then imagine a world where you recognize women only by their genitals. You look at one vagina and say, "Oh, that's Sally.' You look at another vagina and say, "Oh, that's Kathy." You look at another vagina and say, 'I've never met this woman before'." "I'm going to be ill now," said Yuki. ******** The following day, Tom looked over at Yuki after a group of women had just finished lunch. Yuki looked back at him. "Please don't tell me my face has blood on it." "Well, I'm sorry, but your face is smeared with blood." Yuki jerked and spat a geyser of vomit up and all over her face. A couple of waitresses rushed over and hurriedly cleaned the mess. It took them a while to clean the bench and the carpeting under Yuki's head. "Really?" said Yuki after a few minutes. "That woman who sat on me was having her period. How could anyone be such a disgusting pig to sit naked on someone's face during her period?" "It happens fairly often, actually," said Tom. "I've probably swallowed a pint or more of blood that trickled into my nose and down my throat over the past month." "Really?" "Yeah, but blood isn't so bad," he said. "Piss is worse." "Piss? Seriously? Piss?" "Yeah, piss," he said. "Some women have leaky bladders." The manager walked past and said, "That was your last chance. Now I will put a stop to your talking." Tom and Yuki looked at each other. "What can she do?" asked Yuki. "I don't think there's really anything she can do to stop us from talking," said Tom. "But we should probably only talk when the restaurant is closed." "Okay," said Yuki moments before the next group of customers sat at their table. Later in the evening a young girl was about to sit on Yuki's face. "Sensai!" gasped the girl. Yuki looked up and recognized Misao, one of the students from her English class. She recalled that they were sitting in the classroom together practicing English conversation just a couple of days ago. "May I sit on you?" asked Misao. "Yes, you may," said Yuki with sadness in her voice. "That's why I'm here." One of the other girls stepped over Yuki and sat on Tom, then Misao sat on Yuki. Misao lifted up a moment later. "You left your job to become a chair in the Man Face Restaurant? I thought they only used men. We miss you at school. You just disappeared in the middle of the day. Seeing you here, I had no idea you were lesbian." Misao looked from side to side guiltily, and whispered, "I'm lesbian, too. I won't mind if you should happen to accidentally lick my vagina and push your tongue up into me while I'm eating." "Please help us, Misao," Said Yuki. "They won't let us leave. We're shackled behind this wall. We're prisoners here. Hostages. Slaves." "Oh, my, Sensai," Misao gasped. "That's horrible. We will tell the headmaster. We'll all go to the police," she whispered. The four girls whispered for a moment and then left the restaurant as surprised waitresses looked on. A different group of women were seated at their table a few minutes later. ******** The next day, Tom and Yuki found out what the manager could do about their talking. When the restaurant closed after lunch, a Yakuza wearing dark sunglasses and all covered in tattoos came over to their table carrying a black metal toolbox. Yuki and Tom glanced at each other with terrified looks in their eyes. The Yakuza slipped elastic collars around each of their necks with long wires attached to each one. He threaded the wires down under their benches and into the wall. He then opened the panel and knocked around inside for a while. Tom felt him slip some kind of ring over his penis where the head met the shaft and another over his balls snug around the base of his balls. Then he slid something cold, hard and metallic deep into Yuki's vagina. He fiddled around a little more, then closed the panel and left. "I wonder what..." said Yuki, but Tom let out an ear shattering scream at that moment. "Tom..." she said, and he let out another horrific scream. "Don't speak..." said Tom, and at that moment a million giant hornets stung the inside Yuki's vagina all at once. She felt the blood rush from her face and her vision turned red. The manager was standing there, just then. "A sound and vibration sensor in each of your collars trips a relay sending mains current to your lover's genitals. No batteries. No transformers. 200 volts AC. No! More! Talking!" she screamed at them and stomped away. Tom and Yuki endured the rest of the day just squeezing their hands together and smiling at each other between customers sitting on them. Every now and again, Tom or Yuki would cough or sneeze causing the other to scream in agony for a moment, but they were otherwise silent. ******** The next day, those four students returned to the restaurant and sat at their table. Misao lifted her ass off Yuki's face and whispered, "I'm sorry it took us so long to come back, Sensai, but they almost wouldn't let us back in. We had to promise to be good and have dinner to be let back in." Yuki simply nodded. Misao sat back down when a waitress came and handed them a towel and a menu. Misao lifted up again. "We went to the headmaster and the police. The headmaster was shocked, but could do nothing. The police say they already know about this place. It's dodgy, they know, but the contracts are legal and binding. Plus the Yakuza are involved, somehow. I guess that shouldn't be surprising. There's nothing they can do. I'm so sorry, Sensai." Again, Yuki just nodded. "You won't talk to me?" said Misao. Yuki opened her mouth, looked over at Tom, then closed it again and closed her eyes. Misao sat back down. "You hate me now," whispered Misao. "I don't blame you. I'm sorry, Sensai." The students' meals were served, they ate in silence, and left quickly. Later, after the restaurant had closed one waitresses was still there, she walked up to Tom and Yuki. "I know you can't talk, but do you want to have sex with each other? Just nod." Yuki nodded and smiled at Tom, who also smiled and nodded. He recognized her as the same one who fucked him that one day. The waitress said, "Okay. My name is Kiku, by the way." She lifted each of her legs and pulled her panties down and off, then opened the panel in the wall and climbed in. Tom felt that pipe slid off his dick, and the girl mounted him. Though he couldn't see her, he felt her bouncing on him, sliding his cock up and down inside her vagina as her ass cheeks slapped his hips rhythmically. Having had no release recently, he had a hair trigger and exploded into her without much effort on her part, pumping so much spunk into her that it surprised him that he had so much built up inside his balls. It took a few minutes for her to drain him completely before she slid off him and replaced the pipe onto his cock. Climbing out of the wall, she clearly had his creampie oozing from her vagina and dribbling down the inside of her thighs. She then straddled, Yuki's face, pinched her jaw open, and sat with her vagina directly over Yuki's mouth, letting Tom's jism drain out of her vagina. She remained seated for several minutes, forcing Yuki hold her breath and swallow it. Kiku stood and pulled her panties back on and left. Yuki lay there crying, gasping, and coughing, and Tom just lay there looking shocked. ******** A few days later, Kiku walked up to them after the restaurant had closed and said, "Guess what?" Yuki and Tom looked at each other then back at her. "You're going to have a baby!" Yuki looked back at her wide-eyed. "Well, sort'a," said Kiku. "I mistimed my period. I thought my period was about to start, but I guess I miscalculated. I felt strange the next morning, so I took a pregnancy test, and, well, you're pregnant." Yuki and Tom gave each other funny looks as the girl rattled on. "Look," she said. "Don't worry. I'll raise your baby. And I'll bring her to the restaurant to meet her mom and dad when she gets old enough to be allowed in. But if it's a boy, that might be a problem. So let's hope it's a girl. And I know you can't talk, but you need to decide on a name and let me know before she's born. Anyway, congratulations, you two!" Tom and Yuki smiled at each other as Kiku walked way, turned off the lights, and left the restaurant for the night. *** END *** (1) This would be considered a grave insult to a Japanese person. (1) This would be considered a grave insult to a Japanese person.