Forbidden Heat: Singapore Diaries

Before we start, need to address Anon who left a one-star review on Part 1. Apparently my erotica is "bizarre" and reads like someone with a short attention span who starts in the middle.

Mate, I literally got wanked off by my stepmother on a plane to Singapore, and had my Filipino maid send me blasphemous nun porn whilst I was tied up in a Tokyo boardroom. My lifeisbizarre. My attention spanisshot. And we're absolutely starting in the middle because who the fuck has time for exposition when there's this much depravity to document?

Don't like it? Jog on, pal. Nobody's forcing you to read about my corporate negotiations. And besides here I am pissing myself laughing writing part 2 hoping it will wind you up even more.

Anyway, where was I...

---

I lost count somewhere after the fourteenth time. Maybe seventeenth. Sakura kept bringing me to the edge and I kept trying to focus on something, anything other than the fact that my balls were turning purple.

The worst part? I was properly into it. That's the thing about being a filthy bastard - you can't help but enjoy your own degradation. Seven hours tied to a conference table whilst three Japanese fit businesswomen tortured my cock, and some sick part of me was absolutely loving it. The humiliation. The helplessness. The fact that I was completely at their mercy.

Sakura took me deep again, and right when I was about to explode she pulled off and blew cold air across the tip on my cock.

"Uh, fuck please," I heard myself begging.

And look, I'm not proud of the begging. Well, actually, that's bollocks. Iamproud of it. Proud of being such a desperate slag that I'd beg three Nippon strangers to let me come whilst tied up in their father's boardroom. Emily would've been horrified. Ms Richardson probably would've given me detention. But they weren't here, were they? Just me and my purple balls and my complete lack of dignity.

"Please what Bennett-san?" Sakura's ruler trailed down my inner thigh. "Please sign the contract?"

"You can fuck right off." Excuse my French.

She giggled and went back down, taking me so deep I felt faint, throat working around me, those innocent eyes looking up with pure evil in them. Then nothing. She pulled off completely, walked away to check her phone like I wasn't lying there with my cock throbbing.

My phone kept vibrating on the side table. Maria was going mental with her video schedule. From what I could glimpse, she'd moved from church confessional to what looked like the priest's private quarters. Rosary beads wrapped around her tits, crucifix visible in the background.

Proper blasphemy now. The kind that gets you excommunicated and possibly struck by lightning.

"Jamie." Ting's voice from across the table, strained and desperate. "Don't you dare sign that contract."

"Er, bit busy dying over here."

"Your father should have thought of that," Keiko's voice came from behind me, "before trying to fuck us on the exclusivity clause."

She'd returned with the contract, and what looked like a tackle box full of torture implements.

What followed was the most exquisite hour of my life. They worked in rotation, each sister taking turns destroying me in different ways. Sakura discovered my nipples were sensitive, spent forever just on those whilst the other sister's small dainty stockinged feet worked my cock. The nylon against my shaft.

"Ah poor baby, so far from home" Sakura cooed, pinching hard enough to make me yelp. "Want to spunky, spunky?"

"Um, yes!"

"Then sign."

"But I can't... I'm terribly sorry."

My phone vibrated again. Sakura grabbed it, held it up.

Maria in full nun's habit, rosary between her teeth, three fingers deep in herself. Her other hand holding a sign: "HOUR SIX. THINKING OF YOU."

"Your girlfriend?" Sakura asked.

"Well actually Maid...long story."

"Filthy bitch." She scrolled through the previous videos. "But oh my, she's very committed."

Another video started playing. Maria on an actual altar like she was the sacrifice. Crucifix in one hand, vibrator in the other, singing Ave Maria whilst going at it.

"She's definitely going to hell," I muttered.

What followed was pure, calculated torture. Keiko removed her stockings - slowly, making it a show - then wrapped them around my cock like she was gift-wrapping it. The silk was still warm from her legs, still carrying her scent.

"I know you like feet," Keiko said, climbing onto the table. She positioned herself so her bare feet were right in front of my face. "That you'd get aroused when powerful women wear hosiery or certain shoes."

She pressed her foot against my mouth.

"Now be a good boy and lick them."

So I did. Ran my tongue along her arch, sucked her toes whilst she watched with cold amusement. And blimey, I loved it. Loved being their obedient little pervert. Loved that they'd worked out exactly what I was into and were using it against me.

"Good gweilo" she said. Literally means foreign devil. Charming.

Meanwhile, they'd untied Ting's legs and spread them wide. Sakura knelt between them with a glass dildo that she claimed was "hand-blown in Hokkaido, temperature responsive, very expensive."

She pressed it against Ting's obscenely wet cunt and my stepmother gasped. They worked her with the frozen glass whilst I was forced to watch, still licking Keiko's feet like a trained pet.

"The glass retains temperature," Sakura explained, like she was presenting at a business conference. "Creates interesting sensations. Especially with this."

She placed a vibrator against Ting's clit.

Ting lasted about thirty seconds before she started begging in Mandarin. I caught "please" and "can't" and some very creative profanity about their family's future prospects.

"Almost there," Yumi said, cranking the vibrations higher.

Then they stopped. Complete stop. Left Ting right on the edge, mouth wide open, desperate.

"Please," Ting sobbed. Not in English. Not in Mandarin. Just pure desperation.

"Sign the contract," Keiko said, producing it in front of her.

"No, nooo I can't. Charles will divorce me."

"Then you suffer."

They walked away. Three gorgeous Japanese businesswomen in lingerie having a casual break whilst we lay there captive, horny, sexually destroyed on their conference table.

The absurdity hit me. This was my life. Corporate negotiations conducted via sexual torture. And I was absolutely here for it.

"This is bonkers," I said to the ceiling.

"First time in Tokyo?" Keiko asked, not even looking at me.

"For this type of thing? Yeah."

"Everyone breaks eventually. It's just a question of how much you can take first."

She walked back over, glass of water in hand, sat on the table next to my head.

"Your father thinks he's clever," she said. "Sending his son and trophy wife. But he didn't count on us doing our research. We know about the maid. The teacher. The escorts. Fat Wong speaks very highly of you, by the way."

"Oh right, can I get that as a LinkedIn recommendation?"

She laughed. "I like you, Bennett. You've got balls."

"Gee, thanks... colourful balls thanks to you."

She climbed onto the table, straddled my chest. I could see everything. The expensive French lingerie. Her shaved cunt barely covered by black silk.

"Last chance," she said. "Sign the contract. You both get to come. Everyone wins."

"Well not strictly true. What about my father?"

"Your father can afford the loss." She leaned close. "But refusing will ruin you. We have another sixteen hours planned. And we will not let you come. Not once."

My phone vibrated. Ms Richardson had sent a photo. Her bare feet, toes painted red. Caption:Thinking of you. Don't disappoint me. x

She knew exactly what she was doing.

I'd been at Eton two years before I worked out Ms Richardson knew exactly what she was doing with those heels. Patent leather, always. Red soles when she wanted to make a point about something.

One afternoon she caught me staring. Detention. Just the two of us in her office.

"Close the door, Bennett."

I did.

"You've been staring at my feet all term."

"Miss, I--"

"Don't lie. It's tedious." She crossed her legs, let her shoe dangle from her toes. "Do you want to touch them?"

I couldn't form words. Just nodded like an idiot.

She slipped off both shoes, placed one foot on the desk between us. Red painted toes. High arch. I was properly gone.

"Well?"

I reached out, ran my hand along her instep. She didn't move, just watched me with that same expression she used when marking essays - curious, assessing.

"You can touch yourself if you like," she said. "But keep your other hand on my foot."

So I did. Gripped her ankle whilst I sorted myself out, trying not to come instantly like some desperate virgin. She kept perfectly still, let me use her foot as an anchor whilst I wanked over her desk like the filthy bastard I was already becoming.

When I finally came it went everywhere. Her desk, my trousers, probably the carpet.

"Clean that up," she said, slipping her shoes back on. "And Bennett? Next time, ask permission first."

There was a next time. Several.

Keiko noticed the photo, smiled. "She's very thorough. Now, where were we?"

She climbed off me, nodded at her sisters. "Show him what happens when he refuses."

Sakura produced something from the tackle box. Looked like a wand vibrator but smaller, more focused.

"This is for very specific stimulation," she explained.

She pressed it against the head of my cock. Immediate, intense. Fuck.

"Stop," I gasped. "That's too..."

"You can take it," Keiko said.

Sakura kept it there whilst Yumi worked my balls with her mouth. The combination was unbearable. After seven hours of denial, I was finally going to...

They stopped. Complete stop. I thrashed against the restraints, desperate and pathetic.

"Please," I begged. Not even ashamed anymore. "Please, I'll do anything..."

"Anything?" Keiko asked.

"Yes. Anything."

She looked at her sisters. Some silent communication passed between them.

Then Keiko climbed onto the table, straddled my face.

"Open your mouth," she said.

So, I did.

She spat in it.

Not a delicate little spit. A proper one. I felt it hit my tongue, warm and degrading, and there was a flash of horror - this is gross, this is wrong - but then something else. Pride. Satisfaction. I'd taken it. Held my mouth open and accepted it.

"Swallow," she commanded.

I did.

"Good boy," she murmured. Then to her sisters: "He likes it. Look."

She was right. I was somehow even harder. This was properly depraved and I was absolutely into it.

"He's a filthy little pervert," Yumi observed.

And yeah, she was right. Iama filthy pervert. Spent two years at Eton wanking to fantasies about Ms Richardson's feet. Shagged my way through Singapore without a shred of dignity. Got off on being degraded and humiliated and used.

Absolute manwhore.

Time stopped having meaning. At some point Ting caught my eye. Something shifted in her face. Not broken, more so calculating.

"We need five minutes," I said to Keiko. "Private."

As soon as they left the room, Ting didn't waste time. "This contract is good. Sixty-forty is fair. We should sign."

"So we just give in?"

She grinned. "No. We make them think they broke us. Then we fuck them stupid."

I stared at her. "You're terrifying."

"I'm Chinese. We invented negotiation. Now follow my lead."

The sisters returned. Ting burst into Academy Award tears. "We'll sign. Please. I can't take anymore."

"Both of you?"

I hung my head in fake defeat. "Yeah. You win."

We signed. Hands shaking. Both of us playing our parts perfectly.

"Seven hours, fourteen minutes," Keiko announced. "Respectable."

"Now then," she said. "Your reward."

They untied us. My legs didn't work. Ting caught me, steadied me, and for thirty seconds we were alone.

"Come here," she said quietly, pulling me against the wall out of sight.

She dropped to her knees, took me in her mouth. Hot and wet and finally relief building. But she wasn't trying to make me come. She was claiming something. Marking territory.

She pulled off, looked up at me. "You held out for seven hours. For me. For us."

"Mostly didn't want Dad to kill me..."

"Shut up." She stood, turned, bent over. "Now fuck me. Quick."

I slid into her. She was soaking, still trembling from seven hours of torture, and when I found the right angle she made this noise - half gasp, half sob - that went straight to my balls.

"Harder," she said under her breath. "Make me..."

I didn't know what she wanted but I gave her harder anyway. Pushed deeper, found that spot that made her clench around me. Her nails dug into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks.

Then something shifted. She went tense all over, stopped breathing for a second, and suddenly she was coming so hard she actually squirted. Proper squirted, soaked both of us and the floor, still clenching around me whilst she came apart.

"Fuck," I managed, because what else do you say when your stepmother just came that hard on your cock?

She laughed breathlessly. "Don't come yet. Hold it. When we have them where we want them, then you can come. Inside me. In front of them. Show them who won."

The sisters returned. Keiko was smiling, triumphant.

"Your reward," she said.

Ting moved first. Walked to Keiko, grabbed her face, kissed her hard.

"Your turn to beg," Ting said softly.

And Keiko, Harvard graduate, professional dominatrix, whimpered.

Turned out they loved being dominated after controlling everything all day. Ting had intuited this somehow. Went full dominatrix mode and they melted.

I didn't rush it. After seven hours of being tortured, I was going to take my fucking time.

Keiko was on her back on the boardroom table, still in that expensive French lingerie, looking up at me like she couldn't quite believe the tables had turned. I ran my hand down her side, slowly, feeling the silk and then skin, warm and impossibly soft. She shivered.

"Please," she said quietly.

"Not yet."

I kissed her collarbone. The inside of her wrist where her pulse was hammering. That spot just below her ear that made her gasp. Took my time mapping out all the places that made her react - not the obvious ones, but the weird ones. The small of her back. The crease where her thigh met her hip.

She was properly squirming by the time I found the clasp at her back, fumbled with it. She arched to help me and it came undone with a satisfying pop. I pulled the bra down slowly, let the silk drag across her nipples. She gasped.

"You're a bastard," she said.

"Yeah, but you like it."

I did the same with her knickers - slid them down her thighs inch by inch whilst she squirmed underneath me. By the time she was actually naked she was begging again, which felt like proper justice after what she'd done to me.

But here's the thing - I was still half-dressed. Shirt hanging open, trousers shoved down but not off. It felt filthier that way. More urgent. Like we couldn't wait long enough to get properly undressed because we both needed this too badly.

When I finally pushed into her, she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me deeper, and I could feel my shirt buttons pressing against her bare skin, my belt buckle digging into her thigh.

"Harder," she demanded, and I obliged.

Gave her everything I had left after seven hours of torture. Fucked her until she was the one begging, the one crying, the one completely destroyed. When I finally came it was exactly like Ting said - inside my stepmother whilst Keiko watched, understanding too late that we'd played them.

"You would have accepted fifty-fifty," Ting said later, all of us tangled on the floor.

Sakura laughed. "Yes. You got a better deal than your father deserved."

"I know."

When we staggered out at 2 AM, Ting leaned against me in the lift.

"Did you know they'd respond like that?"

"Suspected it. Control freaks in the boardroom always want to submit in the bedroom."

My phone: Maria's sacristy orgy. Dad:WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SIGN???

Ting typed back: "Your son is better at business than you are. We're taking a week's holiday to celebrate."

"We are?"

"The Yamamoto sisters offered us their private onsen."

The lift doors opened. Tokyo stretched out before us.

"This job was supposed to be boring," I said.

"Would you prefer boring?"

I thought about London. Emily. The Northern Line.

"Not even slightly."

"Good. Now let's get drunk."

We stepped out into Tokyo, thirty million pounds poorer for Dad but significantly richer in experiences that would definitely require therapy.

Worth it though.

Absolutely worth it.

---

JAMIE'S POST-TOKYO DEBRIEF

(Because apparently I'm keeping score now)

The Yamamoto Sisters (collective rating): 9.5/10

Their scientific method was genuinely flawless. Hokkaido glass and German leather suggests R&D investment my father's firm couldn't dream of. Also suggests they've done this before, which is both terrifying and oddly comforting.

Technique: 11/10

The stocking gift-wrap deserves its own patent. Being systematically broken down into a begging mess before the "reward" is psychological warfare at levels I didn't know existed. Will be thinking about this for months. Possibly years.

The Ting Factor: Actual MVP

That wall gambit changed everything. Watching my stepmother go from Academy Award sobbing to full boardroom dominatrix in sixty seconds was the most terrifyingly erotic thing I've witnessed. She played them perfectly. Reminded me she's been negotiating longer than I've been alive.

Psychological Damage: Comprehensive

Can never sit through Q3 projections again without getting a semi. Keiko's spit-and-swallow command has effectively ended my dignity. The foot worship has rewired something fundamental in my brain.

Comparison Notes:

More organized than Diana. The Harvard MBA definitely shows.

Filthier than Maria, which is properly impressive given Maria's recent sacristy performance.

More expensive than Dad's first divorce. Thirty million quid lost but worth every penny.

Overall Assessment:

Would absolutely endure corporate torture again. Dad's going to have a proper heart attack when he sees the onsen bill, but as Ting pointed out, we're better at business than he is.

Final Thought:

The fourth Yamamoto sister arrives at the onsen tomorrow. Shibari expert. Art school kinky. Already wondering if I can expense the rope.

This is going to be a very long but interesting week.