BindingCherryBlossoms (6 page)

Sakura watched the video for two weeks straight, growing
more and more fascinated with the mysterious woman; what she wore, how she
moved, how her hair was styled and her makeup applied.

She also memorized every utensil in the ceremony, listening
to her teacher’s voice before repeating the names to herself over and over as
the woman picked each item up and used it in the ceremony until Sakura was
finally certain she could pass whatever her
Bakushi’s
test might be.

What he had planned for her other studies, she refused to
even consider. It made her body ache with a need that left her sleepless, her
emotions spinning out of control every time she thought of the way he would
force her to submit to his every demand.

Ian ate lunch with her most every day and took her to the
gym to work off the meal. She was growing to love his easy company, although
she found her parents’ constant inquiries about their relationship both tedious
and nerve-racking.

No matter how many times she told them there was no marriage
anywhere in sight, they simply bowed their heads and told her not to worry,
that Ian would respect his family and do the proper thing, and that she would
then become their most dutiful daughter and agree to the match out of gratitude
for her upbringing.

And to make matters worse she had developed a distinct
craving for Kit Kat bars, the plain old American kind. She bought an entire
package of the chocolate and hid it in her desk, gorging herself on the yummy
treat whenever she thought of what the future held.

By the Saturday she was to meet her teacher at the Red Mask
again, Sakura was in a near panic of stress and expectation, devouring more
chocolate in a single afternoon than she had in the entire month before as she
got ready to face the night ahead.

“You seeing Ian?” Her mother caught her as Sakura tiptoed
her way downstairs, hoping against hope she could make it out the door without
either of her parents taking notice. “Where he take you?”

“I’m not seeing Ian, Mama,” Sakura answered, trying to keep
from banging her head against the wall in frustration.

“Not see Shoji-san?” Aiko caught Sakura by the arm. “Where
you go then? You have lover on the side?”

“I do not have a lover on the side.” The deliberate lie came
too easily but it could not be helped. If either of her parents had any idea
that she really was sleeping with another man while they were trying to marry
her off to Ian, they would most likely kill her first and ask questions later.

“You stay home. Wait for Ian to call.” Her mother pointed
back up the stairs. “Go to room and take off that dress. You look like hooker.”

Sakura stepped close and gave her mother a hug. “I am going
out with the girls, Mama. I know you worry but I promise you I will be fine.”

“What time you come home in case Ian call?”

Sakura groaned in frustration. “Ian is not going to call. He
doesn’t think of me that way, okay?” The disappointment in her voice was as
much a shock to her as to her mother.

Aiko hugged Sakura in return. “Not to worry. He do honorable
thing for his family.”

Sakura disentangled herself and opened the door. “Good
night, Mama. Don’t wait up.”

Please don’t wait up
. The last thing she needed was
to face either of her parents after her night at the Red Mask. While her father
would probably remain blissfully ignorant of her encounter, her mother would
sniff out every molecule of sex left on her skin and interrogate her until
Sakura spilled everything or passed out from sheer exhaustion.

After she finally made it to her car, she turned her cell
phone to vibrate and tucked it into her bag. Only then did she allow herself to
fully explore the flood of excitement pooling between her legs—a rush of want
that left her breathless…and more than ready to satisfy her master’s every
desire.

* * * * *

Sakura was fascinated the instant she set foot into his
room. He already had everything laid out on the
tatami
mat where he was
sitting on his knees on the floor, his hands resting on his thighs, his head
lowered as if in meditation.

He lifted his face to watch her as she bowed and slipped off
her shoes. “
Youkoso, keisei
. Come and show me what you’ve learned. But
first you will put on the kimono.” He pointed to a purple robe lying on the
bed.

“Where can I change?” She spotted the door to the bathroom
and headed that way but he stopped her with a frown.

“You will change here so that I may take pleasure in
watching you.”

“Here?” Her voice squeaked.

“
Hai
.” He sat back on his heels and folded his hands
in his lap. She thought he would sit there forever, patiently, never moving a
single muscle as he waited for her to obey.

But while he was the epitome of calm, Sakura’s hands were
already starting to shake as she fumbled for the zipper at the back of her dress.

“You look like a child,” he admonished, “not a woman of
grace and sensuality. Show me you know you are beautiful. Show me you know how
I crave to tie you to my bed, your body spread out like a feast before me.”

Her cunt clenched tight in answer as she pictured herself
splayed and bound across the bed, her nipples puckering to strain against her
dress as she imagined him pinching them between his skillful fingers. Did he
have any idea how much he could arouse her without placing a single touch
against her skin?

“
Now
.”

So that eternal patience was starting to wear thin. Good.
She wanted him hungry. Wanted him to feel the same dark need.

Straightening her shoulders, Sakura turned her attention
back to her dress, this time turning her back to him so he could see every inch
of her skin as she tugged the zipper slowly down. Then she shimmied the
material past her hips, bending over to give him a glimpse of her bottom before
she let the dress fall to the floor.

“Excellent,” he whispered. “Turn so I can see you from the
front.”

She folded her arms across her breasts as she obeyed, bowing
her head to let her hair slide forward to cover the flush of embarrassment that
heated her cheeks. While she wanted to be daring and bold and free, a part of
her was still hesitant to give him such a show. But she had the mask to hide
her now. It granted her freedom and anonymity. She caught a glimpse of herself
in the lacquered mirror on the ceiling and saw the strange woman she’d seen
before, ancient, mysterious, a geisha come to life. Lifting her hands and
arching her back, she drew her hair up from her neck and let it fall behind her
shoulders, baring herself completely to his gaze.

His hands fisted where they rested on his thighs. His jaw
clenched. She could see the outline of his erection where it rose against his
stomach, and smiled as she watched him spread his knees apart. “Put on the
kimono before I decide not to control my baser urges.” He untied the sash
around his robe and pulled it completely open, giving her an unobstructed view
of his swollen cock. “Unless you would like to forgo your lesson for the
night?”

“No.” Sakura grabbed her kimono and slid it over her
shoulders, wrapping the simple obi sash around her waist. She had practiced too
hard to let him off so easily. She was ready to show him how quickly she had
learned. In seconds she was kneeling on the mat beside him.

“Huh.” He grunted, then closed his robe once more before he
lowered his palms to the floor and bowed his head between them.

Sakura copied the movement.

He pointed to the kettle. “What is this?”

“
Kama
.”

“And this?” He held up the bamboo ladle.

“
Hishaku.
”

Now he picked up the delicately crafted whisk.

“
Chasin
,” she said without hesitation.

After they had worked their way through the rest of the
utensils, he gave her a slight smile. “Well done. Did you watch the video I
gave you?”

“Every day.” Sakura could not keep the admiration from her
voice. “Who is that woman? She is stunning. Amazing. I watched her over and
over and over. I swear I couldn’t tear my eyes away.”

“Thank you,
keisei
. I will tell my mother how much
you appreciate her expertise.”

“That gorgeous woman is your mother?” Sakura’s pride
tumbled.

How on earth was she ever going to compare to that? If he
grew up watching his mother perform the ceremony with such absolute perfection,
how was she supposed to do anything that came even close? She felt ungainly and
clumsy by comparison, her earlier confidence crumbling like dried-out cake. It
grew worse when he stood and moved to open the door.

“I have invited another apprentice of mine to observe.”

“Your apprentice?” Sakura watched in shivering fascination
as Ty Brisson limped into the room. Even though the man was masked and wearing
a black kimono, she would know him anywhere. What was he apprenticing for?

Only one discipline sprang to mind.

Ty was learning the art of bondage.

Did he recognize her? Would he report her decadent behavior
to Ian?

Starting to hyperventilate, Sakura bowed her head in a
gesture of submission meant more to hide her from his eyes than any true
respect. To the man’s credit, he seemed to know what was required of him for he
slipped off his sandals and knelt on the mat, bowing his head to the floor.

“You are required to welcome a guest,” her
Bakushi
chastised, resuming his place beside her.

“
K-konnichiwa
,” she managed, taking a gulp of air.

“
Domo arigatou
,” Ty responded, raising his head and
sitting back on his heels. If the position gave him any discomfort he did not
show it, although Sakura thought she saw his jaw clench shut as he assumed the
seiza
position.

But she didn’t have time to ponder the implications as her
teacher handed her a cloth napkin and took one for himself, folding it neatly
and laying it beside him. He nodded his head for her to copy his movements.

She did manage to fold the napkin well enough, but she
cringed when he took the top off the pot of boiling water and grasped the
ladle. This was a tricky part. One had to scoop up just the right amount of
water, pour it into the bowl without spilling a drop, and then rest the ladle
on top of the pot before sliding one’s hand away gracefully.

Which he did as elegantly as his mother. Of course.

Sakura’s unease grew. She managed to scoop up the water well
enough, but sloshed it down one side of the bowl as she tried to pour it out,
earning her a grunt of displeasure.

“
Iie
.” Ian poured the water back into the kettle and
motioned for her to try again. This time she did manage to pour it without
mishap, but when she picked up the whisk and began to stir, she sloshed it
around much too fast and spilled a decent portion of the water on the mat.
“Begin again.”

Sakura was startled when her eyes met Ty’s across the mat
and he gave her an encouraging smile. If he did know who she was, it stood to
reason he would keep her secret as readily as Madame Manette. She moved to pour
the water once more, buoyed by the soldier’s encouragement.

She closed her eyes and saw herself tied up in the purple
silk rope—a bound and beautiful work of art. Then she pictured herself copying
every gesture of the woman in the video, letting the images guide her hands.
She was competent. She was graceful. She knew the ritual. She was sublime.

As Sakura let herself flow into the movements, she found she
had learned much more than she’d given herself credit for. Her
Bakushi’s
grunts of displeasure grew few and far between as she cleaned the bowl, scooped
up the powdered tea and poured fresh water into the mix.

When she was finished whisking the tea to its final
consistency, she handed the bowl to the man beside her, pleased when he took
several sips and passed the bowl to Ty. When he gave it back to her she drank,
dumped out what little of the liquid was left and cleaned the bowl once more
before placing it back in its original position and bowing to her guests.

Well that wasn’t hard at all.
Sakura allowed herself
a smile of triumph that she had actually managed to pull it off, even with the
added stress of their unexpected guest.

“Well done,
keisei
.” Both men bowed to her in return.
“A fine effort.”

Ty added his gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Now it is time for my other apprentice to practice.”

Sakura’s head shot up as both men stood. Had she heard
correctly? What was Ty going to practice? Did they intend to tie her up
together?

The thought was enough to make her want to flee. No way
would she be a part of something so totally depraved. While she had agreed to
one man roping her up, she had no intention of granting another the same
permission.

In a fit of growing panic, she jumped to her feet tripping
over the hem of her kimono to land sprawling on the mat, knocking over the
kettle and sloshing hot water over her wrist. Determined not to let them see
the angry red burn, Sakura tucked her arm into the sleeve of her kimono,
fighting back tears of pain as she turned to lock herself in the bathroom.

“Stop,” her
Bakushi
ordered, but his voice held as
much concern as ire. “Did you hurt yourself?”

She shook her head.

He reached out and took her chin in his hand, forcing her
face to his. “Never lie to me,
keisei
. I will not see you harmed in any
way. Show me your wrist.”

But she stubbornly refused to let him see. How could she
have gotten herself into this situation? Sakura suddenly wanted to be done with
the entire evening, her stomach churning as she thought of both men forcing the
ropes around her.