When Avery is accosted by a yakuza enforcer for the second time, he thought he was gonna hafta pay protection fees or something similar… But it turns out this yakuza alpha male needs to bend over and take whatever Avery wants to give out! Can Avery help Wuzu recover his reputation?
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Avery felt like celebrating, so he poured himself a glass of wine. He didn’t often drink, mainly because of the calories. And he found that, the older he got, the more alcohol made him sleepy instead of drunk. The taste of wine was splendid though. When he was young, he would rather drink more worse. When he was older, he would rather drink less better.
But he had no sooner taken a sip, when there was a knock at the door.
Scowling, Avery put down his glass of wine. He rolled his eyes. Probably his neighbor. Like an idiot, he opened it without checking who was there.
His blood ran cold when he saw a familiar face.
His name was Wuzu, and he was an enforcer for Clan Rairakku, a Maui-based yakuza syndicate that played a major role in business here in San Francisco. It had been Wuzu who came to Avery a year ago and threatened him if he didn’t back out of a business deal. Avery did back out — he had no need to fight for business opportunities, and he had been unsure on the viability of that particular deal anyway. Avery was considering a location for a massage parlor, and he had chosen a different one. No big deal.
But now the same stone-facing Japanese man was here again, looking down at Avery. Wuzu’s eyes flashed and sparkled, though he showed no emotion on his face. His only emotion was “stern”, it seemed.
But this time, there was a faint note of something else on Wuzu’s face, some excitement, apprehension maybe even eagerness. His eyes scanned up and down, taking in Avery’s petite frame.
“Oh, hello, Wuzu. I did what you asked.”
“Indeed.”
“Hmmm…” Avery found Wuzu’s stare unbearable. He looked down at his feet. “So, uh… It’s all good, right?”
“Yes.” Wuzu’s voice was clear as a lighthouse. “Good evening, Mister Flowers. May I enter?” His Japanese accent was thick: goo-ood eve-en-nin Missuhtaa Flao-za with the rhythm of an elegant machine gun. Despite that, he wasn’t hard to understand.
Last time, Wuzu had barged right in. This time, he spoke with politeness and a calm breath. Avery could tell this was not a threatening visit.
“Uh… I guess so,” Avery said, more out of confusion than anything else. Last time, Wuzu hadn’t phrased it as an option. He immediately regretted it — why invite an extortionist into his home?
But Wuzu was more intimidating than Avery could handle.
He was tall, especially for a Japanese man, towering over Avery by nearly a foot. He was broad-shouldered and burly, with a square jaw and dark, menacing eyes that flitted this way and that as he entered. His eyes were always in motion, even when his head and the rest of him stayed still, and he walked with the light step and grace of a man a third his size.
“Is anyone else here?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response before walking throughout the apartment to check. He stopped and stared at a bonsai tree that Avery placed on a shelf in front of a window. He scoffed as though he didn’t approve. Avery blushed.
“No, no one’s here,” Avery said.
A long pause split open between them. Avery was behind Wuzu, taking in the thickness of his corded-muscle legs and ass, which strained the fine fabric of his suit. He dressed like a banker, even if he was built like a baseball player. He wore some odd cologne too, which smelled — not exactly bad, but not good either — it smelled like a hot spring in the woods. Moist and freshly fern-like, yet musty and sulfurous. Flashes of his colorful tattoos were visible on the edges of his wrist, ankles and neck, but only when his movements separated the fabric of his suit from its natural resting position.
“That’s my bonsai tree, it-“
“It is lacking in balance,” Wuzu said. He plucked one leaf off a branch, and he delicately, deliberately placed the leaf in the trash can beside the door.
“Oh. Well. Um,” Avery was too nervous to think of any response. “Okay. Sorry. I’m, uh… It was a Christmas present.”
Again a pause erupted in Avery’s apartment, and it was shattered by Wuzu’s smooth baritone. “I am here because of shame,” Wuzu said, his voice deep and resonant.
“I see,” Avery said, though that wasn’t true at all. This time, the silence spread like a kudzu through the room, and it strangled every thought Avery had. Wuzu’s stare was intense. He didn’t get why Wuzu could come here because of shame. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with Avery.
Wuzu’s simmering gaze was hard to ignore. A part of Avery’s mind brainstormed ways to get him to leave — order him out, call the police, forgive him for his shame, simply show him the door, offer him money to leave — there were so many options. But in the end, all Avery could think to do was to pat the soil of his bonsai tree to see if it needed water. It did not. Avery already knew that. He watered it like an hour ago. It was just nice to have something to occupy his hands for a few seconds, while Wuzu stood and loomed and cogitated like a block of morose tofu.
Is he breathing? Avery furrowed his brow. Wuzu’s chest moved only very slightly and very slowly, like he was trying not to show that he was breathing.
Finally, Wuzu spoke. “You must discuss with my boss. His name is Mr. Gakimosimi. You must be respectful. Do not interrupt him,” Wuzu said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. He spoke a few Japanese words, then passed the phone to Avery.
“Uh, hello?”
A deep British-accented voice came from the receiver. It was a thin, reedy voice, like an old man. “Mr. Flowers, I presume?” A trace of a Japanese accent was detectible.
“Yes, uh, sir.”
“My name is Timo Gakimosimi,” he said. “This man in front of you — I do not speak his name right now, because he has brought intense shame upon my organization. He has failed in a way I will not describe to you, but be assured it is humiliating for him. He must show me the depth of his sorrow and regret. Do you understand?”
“Uh, sort of. I mean, I get-“
“Stop speaking,” he said. “Do not babble. Americans always babble.”
“Sorry…” Avery was finding this whole situation incomprehensible. At most times, Avery would be defensive of some foreigner talking shit about Americans. But Avery had an inexplicable eagerness to obey the man on the phone — Mr. Gakimosimi — and so he shut his mouth to avoid babbling.
“The man in front of you will do anything you say. If he refuses, you may call me at this number and tell me. He will be punished further. Is that agreeable?”
Avery hesitated. “I mean… I don’t have… a job for him. I don’t need a, uh… extortionist.”
“He is a business consultant, but that is not what I expect you to order him to do,” he said. “I will not say it, as it is improper, but you will think of something he can do to please you.”
“Will I?” Avery furrowed his brow. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.
But when he looked at Wuzu, Avery realized exactly what was intended: he was supposed to have his way with Wuzu. Make him jerk Avery off, swallow his cum, take it up the ass. That’s what Wuzu was expecting, what Mr. Gakimosimi was expecting. They were looking for a sissy, and somebody — maybe Wuzu himself — suggested Avery. Wuzu’s hangdog expression sent a shiver of anticipation up Avery’s backside.
“Yes. I think you know what I mean,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “If he pleases you to a satisfactory degree, I will clear his name of shame. Thank you, Mr. Flowers.” Then he hung up.
Avery nervously handed the phone back to Wuzu. “So, uh… I guess you know what he said?”
Wuzu nodded.
“I’m not going to force you into anything. I’ll just tell your boss you did fine, that you did everything I said. How much time should I give? Maybe you could just fix my bonsai tree? You could give it balance.”
“I have done that,” Wuzu said with a polite nod that was almost a bow. “I have requested this.” He sunk to his knees in front of Avery. “My shame wounds me. I can only heal it by proving my devotion.” He took off his suit jacket, which he hung over the arm of the chair next to him. Then he picked it up, and he smoothed the suit jacket, so it would hang flat when he returned it to the arm of the chair
“I don’t want to force you-“
“You are not forcing me. This will not be my first time. Do not tell Mr. Gakimosimi that,” Wuzu said. He unbuttoned his shirt, then carefully folded it — it was a perfect fold, like he could work at The Gap. Underneath that, he wore a plain white t-shirt, his tattooed muscles bulging out from underneath. Green and black koi swum on his bicep just past the sleeve of his shirt.
“Wait…” Avery said as Wuzu was about to take the shirt off. “Lemme get that.” He shivered with anticipation, struck by a flood of desire, as he touched Wuzu’s flat belly and pulled the t-shirt over his head. He had an amazing physique — Avery hadn’t realized it under the suit, but he was built like a professional wrestler, with pecs the size of Avery’s head. Multicolored tattoos danced over his chest and ribs: smiling geishas, a stylized sun whose rays bathed a living Japan over his heart, and geometric designs covering his six-pack belly with color. His back was an ornate piece, a Shinto temple that coverd him from his nape to his waist.
Avery kissed those biceps, one after the other, blushing in embarrassment at Wuzu’s bemused reaction. Wuzu seemed unfamiliar with the concept of being interested in muscles. Did no Japanese women value muscles? Avery sure did. He sucked a hickey onto each bicep, savoring the rock-hard feel and the overwhelming warmth.
Then he dived his head into Wuzu’s armpit. Like most pit-worshipers, Avery had always enjoyed the musty flavor of hairy, burly armpits, but Wuzu was the opposite of that. He had short, thin hair that was soft and silky, and that smelled of soap, not cheap body wash either, but expensive, high-quality soap that smelled of lavender and mint.
“You like arm pits?” Wuzu said, his stony yakuza face suddenly leering like a nervous frat boy covering up his anxiety with disgust. “That is fil-thy.”
Avery nodded. “That’s the part I love about it,” he said with a giggle, which turned almost hysterical when Wuzu’s serious face stared him down. Then Avery sucked on each nipple. Avery had never felt pectoral muscles like this, so completely lacking in flab — he didn’t think it even existed outside of bodybuilders, action stars and pro athletes. But here there was, right in front of him, a pair of pecs made of iron and covered in multicolored tattoos. Avery licked a trail around those tattoos as his hands stroked Wuzu’s broad, smooth back.
He dropped his pants when Avery excitedly took his own clothes off. He assumed he’d be jerking Wuzu off, which was plenty exciting for Avery. Much to his surprise, however, Wuzu sunk to his knees when Avery dropped his underwear. Wuzu took a deep breath, then swallowed Avery’s half-hard cock to the root.
“Oh shit, Wuzu… I, uh… I didn’t think you’d want to do this,” Avery said. Wuzu let out a loud gagging sound but didn’t stop, even as Avery’s dick pushed into the back of his throat. He did not spit any of it out. His nose collided with Avery’s crotch, and he held onto Avery’s thin hips for support.
Wuzu’s tongue wavered — it touched Avery’s cockshaft and pulled away, hiding in the corner of Wuzu’s cheek as though fearful of the taste. Wuzu scrunched up his face. But then he recommitted himself to going through with this, and his tongue slathered saliva up and down Avery’s shaft.
“Wuzu… You don’t have to do this,” Avery said, still feeling a bit bad. He definitely didn’t want to take advantage of Wuzu — aside from the moral considerations, it was clear that Wuzu was a violent extortionist who sought revenge when he felt he needed to. Avery didn’t want any yakuza getting mad at him. For all Avery knew, Wuzu would seek to eliminate anyone who knew his shame — Mr. Gakimosimi had said that, when this was done, Wuzu’s shame would be wiped away, so maybe he would get rid of anyone who knew about it. Maybe once it had happened, he would be free to be violent again.
“No,” Wuzu said softly, pulling away and closing his eyes like he couldn’t bare to see Avery’s cock with his spit stuck to it. Wuzu growled. “This is the only way to recover my honor and the honor of Clan Rairakku,” he said. He took a deep breath and resumed his deep-throating, his throat choking as Avery’s dick squeezed into it.
His nose pressed into Avery’s wiry pubic hair. Avery was so shocked his knees went weak, but he managed to compose himself. He gripped Wuzu’s neatly-coiffed hair, which was slick with product and thoroughly brushed. He held on as tightly as he could, leaning on Wuzu for support as his legs had trouble supporting himself.
His dick perked right up in Wuzu’s mouth, turning as hard as Wuzu’s biceps. Avery’s hips instinctively gyrated, and he humped Wuzu’s mouth. That sent waves of pleasure to rock Avery’s body from head to toe.
Since there was such a big difference in size between Wuzu and Avery — Wuzu being nearly a foot taller — the positioning of the two was awkward. Wuzu had to stoop, leaning forward on his knees just to get his face at Avery’s crotch-height. His muscles writhed and flexed as he struggled to stay in position, and his unwillingness gradually melted away. Avery got the impression that he stopped feeling ashamed of himself and started feeling pride at his success in rehabilitating his name and his honor, even if only in his mind.
Then Wuzu pulled away and turned around. Thin tendrils of spit still connected Avery’s dick to Wuzu’s lips, until him turning his head forced them to separate. Avery nearly fell over because he had been supporting himself on Wuzu’s head. Even now that Wuzu had stopped, Avery was filled with intense pangs of pleasure.
“Wow, you really want to do this?” Avery’s voice was thin, reedy, like if he actually asked this out loud Wuzu might realize what he was doing and run away, but Avery couldn’t help but ask anyway. His heart pounded. This was more nerve-wracking than it had been when Wuzu came by to extort him last year.
But Wuzu merely grunted his assent. He did appear embarrassed, his face ruddy and sweaty, lips trembling, but he didn’t hesitate at all. He turned around and sunk to the ground in front of Avery.
He started off on all fours, his round smooth ass elevated for Avery to get into. But Avery was much too short for that to work, so once again they struggled to get in position. Avery had trouble getting his dick there, and Wuzu had to lower himself as far as he could go, until he was practically laying down.
By time Avery managed to mount him, Wuzu had lowered himself all the way, and he now rested on his belly on the floor, limbs sprawled out. Avery had to spread himself atop Wuzu, aiming his ass for the taut crack of Wuzu’s tight ass. Laying his face on Wuzu’s broad back, Avery licked the muscles there as he worked his dick in.
He gasped as soon as his manhood slipped past Wuzu’s tight sphincter. It sent up sparks of bliss, which made Avery throw his head back. From the first moment, Avery could feel his orgasm crawling up in his sac, and Avery was annoyed with himself that this wasn’t going to last very long. He could already tell.
Wuzu’s back muscles were like a barrel of thick rope, and Avery nuzzled and licked every inch as he began humping. He felt tiny behind Wuzu, his entire body fitting easily on Wuzu’s back. Avery’s head barely even extended all the way to Wuzu’s meaty shoulders.
Some Japanese words slipped from Wuzu’s mouth. His tone was soft and resigned, maybe a little relieved that he was getting this over with and the pain wasn’t so bad. It might have been a prayer, Avery thought, and he wanted to ask for a translation, but his arousal was too intense to form words, and in any case, he didn’t think Wuzu would tell him what he meant.
Wuzu grunted, then fell stoic again. Avery began working his dick in and out, glad to feel that Wuzu was not resisting him — he got the impression Wuzu didn’t mind this at all, despite his words and the pain he was obviously feeling. Wuzu gyrated his hips as though he was aroused.
“Do you want a reacharound?” Avery asked as soon as the idea occurred to him. That would make this easier for Wuzu as well, he thought — every man loves a free handjob. Wuzu nodded. Avery reached around Wuzu’s body to grab ahold of his dick. He began stroking it — Wuzu was already rock-hard, so in seconds, he was spewing precum into Avery’s fingers. He was obviously turned on by this, Avery realized, despite the pain and humiliation.
Then Avery realized that Wuzu’s dick spasmed every time Avery penetrated him from a certain angle. That could only mean one thing: Avery had found Wuzu’s prostate, and Wuzu loved it. Avery began ramming his dick in as hard as he could at that prostate, smiling as Wuzu’s entire body jerked with the lust that pounded through his veins. Wuzu moaned and lifted his head up.
A cell phone rang. They both stopped moving as though caught, Avery’s cock pulsating within Wuzu, Wuzu’s cock pulsating in Avery’s hand. It was Wuzu’s phone. Avery’s blood ran cold and his heart skipped a beat as his mind raced with terrible possibilities — what if Mr. Gakimosimi decided to order Wuzu to kill Avery, perhaps to save his clan’s face? Avery was terrified of what might come next.
Wuzu winced when he verified that it was his boss. “Mr. Gakimosimi,” he said, even bowing the best he could laying on his belly. He winced and said something in Japanese, then handed the phone back to Avery.
“Are you bringing shame upon him?” Mr. Gakimosimi asked the moment Avery put the receiver to his ear.
“I don’t think it’s so shameful,” Avery said. His cock pulsated in Wuzu’s tight ass, and though Avery was still, his hips continued moving, grinding his dick within Wuzu’s guts. Avery wanted to be even more indignant, but he thought he might get Wuzu in trouble, so he said, “But yes, he is ashamed of what’s happening. I’m ramrodding him, as we say here, or black guys do anyway. My dick is in his ass-“
“I do not need the details. Make it hurt,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “Ask him if he did his best.”
“Uh… Wuzu… did you do your best?”
“Yes, always,” Wuzu said. It sounded like this was a past argument between them, or more likely a one-sided argument since Wuzu simply stated things declaratively, rather than argue about them. Wuzu spoke simply, proudly, as though all he cared about was that he did his best. Mr. Gakimosimi, on the other hand, scoffed like he didn’t care about doing one’s best — all he cared about was results, and whatever had happened between them, Wuzu was held responsible for the results.
“Ask him about the penis in his butt-ocks.” His Japanese accent was mich stronger when he said butt-ocks for some reason.
“Uh…. Mr. Gakimosimi wants me to ask you about the cock in your ass,” Avery said.
“There is… a man’s cock inside me,” Wuzu said. “It is… There is approx-imate-lee twenty-two centimeters of cock inside me. I submit to a man. I am allowing him to pluck my manhood.”
“Good,” Mr. Gakimosimi said with a cocky sigh. “You are doing well, Mr. Flowers. Do you enjoy my man?”
“Yes, very much,” Avery said. He gritted his teeth because his sensitive dick throbbed within Wuzu’s tight ass. It sent shivers of pleasure up Avery’s body, and he bit back a petite moan.
“Good. I am glad,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “I assumed you would want revenge on him for extorting you.”
“Not really. Besides,” Avery said, “I know you are the one truly responsible. You extorted me. You just used him as a tool.” Avery was surprised at how easily he spoke once he got started, despite the intense sensation writhing its way up his body. This was too intense for Avery to censor himself. Wuzu’s ass clenched around his cock when it became apparent that Avery was talking back to Mr. Gakimosimi. Avery felt a surge of pride alongside the fear that Mr. Gakimosimi would seek to punish him.
But Mr. Gakimosimi just sighed and chuckled. “You misunderstand, Mr. Flowers. He chose you as a target for extortion. Yes, I charged him with finding businesses that could pay. But he was the one who decided that you were an appropriate target.”
“Oh…” Avery was too turned on and too close to orgasm to be able to pay attention to his words or formulate a response. Does that mean it was Wuzu’s fault to begin with? Or was Wuzu forced into it? In what sense was Mr. Gakimosimi the boss if Wuzu decided who to target, how to pressure them and then enacted the entire plan by himself? That was too weighty a conversation to have when his balls were on the verge of busting though, so Avery didn’t ask.
Mr. Gakimosimi laughed into the phone. Avery got the impression he didn’t laugh often. Wuzu bucked and winced as though he heard it.
“You will finish inside him, yes? You will ejac-u-late in his ass?” Mr. Gakimosimi asked, sounding like he was uncomfortable talking about semen and again his accent was excessive on that one word.
“Yes…”
“Good. Tell him to be back here by noon, or I will send him back to you again,” Mr. Gakimosimi said and hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
“Your boss is an asshole,” Avery said, giving him his phone back. “He said you have to be back at noon, or he’ll send you back to me again.”
Wuzu nodded. A moan escaped from his lips as he writhed beneath Avery’s grasp. “I have great respect for him,” Wuzu said in a pinched, clipped voice.
“I appreciate that, Wuzu,” Avery said. A part of him wanted to accuse Wuzu of extortion, but that required more thought than he was capable right now. He felt his orgasm approaching like an oncoming train.
Avery resumed slamming his hips harder and harder against Wuzu’s powerful frame. Pleasure washed over his body, and Wuzu’s at the same time. He could feel an imminent orgasm pounding through Wuzu as well. He sensed it in the pulsating of the veins in Wuzu’s cockshaft.
They both finally climaxed at the same time, hot cum spraying within Wuzu’s ass as he shot his own load into Avery’s fingers. Wuzu’s muscles all tensed at once, and he gasped with a short, sharp breath. Fat ropes of jizz spurted onto the floor, reaching several feet in front of Wuzu and a few drops even splattered on the wall.
Avery clutched those spasming back muscles, fingers digging playfully into the colorful yakuza tattoos. He threw his head back as Wuzu grunted beneath him. Wad after creamy wad spurted across Avery’s fingers, while Avery shot his own wad deep into Wuzu. Avery’s cheeks turned red, and his moan of intense sensations turned into a howl of desperate desire. When the pleasure grew too much, Avery pumped his hips at Wuzu’s tight ass, while he slammed his face on the meaty thickness of Wuzu’s back.
Holding his head up while his dick limpened inside Wuzu, Avery licked his lips, still feeling the aftershocks of his climax. Wuzu turned his head to watch with a sense of disgust on his face as Avery sucked down every salty drop of cum.
Then, at last Wuzu pulled out from under Avery and breathed a sigh of relief. Hot cum dribbled from his smooth ass. “Thank you,” he said. He wiped the cum off his ass and his inner thigh with a handkerchief he plucked from the suit jacket he’d placed on the arm of Avery’s chair. “I enjoyed that.”
“Really?”
Wuzu nodded. “Do not tell Mr. Gakimosimi, or he will find some other way to punish me instead.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Come on back anytime you need to be ‘punished’,” Avery said. He gave Wuzu a light smack on the ass, watching his plump cheek shake as he checked that his clothes were not wrinkled. Wuzu began dressing. Avery wiped his own dick clean, and he said, “I’m always ready to dish out punishment.”