Insistent knocking woke Buffy from a continual loop of erotic dreams. She untangled herself from the sheets, stood, and after stuffing her arms into the sleeves of her bathrobe, pulled out her Glock, which had been concealed under the mattress. En route to the door, Buffy instinctually released the gun’s trigger safety.
“Who’s there?”
Receiving no answer, Buffy unbolted the locks and cautiously opened the door, using the wooden barrier to shield the majority of her body and tucking the gun in the tightly tied sash of her robe.
Empty. The hallway was totally empty, all except for a large gift box on her doorstep. Staying on her guard, Buffy looked left then right before dropping her gaze to the package at her feet. Against every warning bell common to a seasoned detective sounding in her head, she brought the box inside, relocked the door, and returned to her bedroom.
Buffy placed the package on her bed, stepped back, and started pacing, debating her next move. Finally, letting curiosity get the better of her, she opened the lid. Lying atop a mass of black was a stark white stationery card inscribed with a single word.
Tonight
With anticipation, Buffy moved aside the tissue paper, revealing a striking crimson draped silk-dress, a pair of peep-toe sling-back stilettos, and risqué black lingerie.
Following hours of pampering and adding only a coquettish smile to her gifted ensemble, Buffy entered one of Concentrico’s many rooms.
The room, resembling a small theater, had a raised wooden stage surrounded by circular crimson walls, as well as gilded woodwork, paper lanterns, and three dozen plush seats. Buffy wasn’t alone long, before she felt the familiar tingling of his presence dancing along her spine.
“William.”
On a breathy sigh, she tilted her head to the right, baring her throat. He brushed her hair aside, rested both hands on her hips, then trailed lingering kisses from her bare shoulder to the sensitive spot just below her ear.
“Sweetling, would it be greedy of me to want you all to myself tonight?” William nibbled on her earlobe, giving it a playful tug.
“Mmm, but we are in a theater for a reason, and I don’t think it’s for a teenage grope session in the dark.” Despite her words, she reached back, cupping the back of his neck, urging him to continue spoke otherwise.
“Pity.”
William’s disarming pouting intensified her desire. Never leaving his hold, Buffy turned and placed both hands on his chest, her lips inches from his.
“Maybe if you’re a really good boy, there might be a later.”
With a saucy smile, she pulled away and, adding an extra enticing sway of her hips, headed toward a set of seats near the stage.
While the other patrons steadily filled the remaining seats, William settled in beside her. Once everyone was in place, and the house lights dimmed as a spot-light centered on an extravagantly dressed man standing by the stage.
The man, or benshi, introduced himself then began narrating the journey of Kin, a once mighty Samurai.
With a flourishing sweep of the benshi’s arm, the spot light moved and fell on the curtains where the actor portraying Kin exited and, with his katana drawn, started stalking along the wooden pathway leading to the stage.
In true kabuki tradition, Kin was dressed in a brightly colored and patterned costume, and his face was painted white with accents of vibrant red bands and heavy black brows.
When Kin reached center-stage, another actor representing a demon, dressed in an equally decorative costume except for having instead a green painted face, red horns and golden eyes, sprang out from a trap door and immediately attacked.
In a flurry of exaggerated but graceful movements, they battled until the demon lay at Kin’s feet. While standing over his enemy, Kin noticed gold and jewels, not blood, spilling from the demon’s wounds. Before collecting the treasure, two more demons attacked. The battle continued until they too were dead, and Kin amassed a small pile of riches.
Buffy watched, mesmerized by the eternal struggle between good and evil passing in what felt like only moments but also seemed endless.
In the final scene, Kin led two fellow Samurai toward nine demons guarding a cave filled with unimaginable wealth and riches. The battle was brutal and, in the end, the Samurai were victorious—or so they thought. As Kin’s brethren rushed ahead, he attacked and slew them both. Triumphant over the fallen, both demons and men, Kin stood at the mouth of the cave admiring his riches.
At that moment the room unexpectedly plunged into darkness, and what only could be described as a loud rumbling echoed throughout the theater. When the mysterious noise ended, the single spot-light returned and focused on mid-stage where Kin was now trapped under a moss-covered boulder, only mere inches from the treasure.
“Trapped for all eternity, the once mighty warrior, Kin, was ultimately defeated by his worst enemy—himself. Here ends our story.” The benshi bowed and the stage went dark.
With the raising of the house lights, Buffy and William stood with the others, their clapping adding to the thunderous ovation. Gradually, the applause died down, and the patrons filed out of the theater, chatting excitedly.
“That was just…amazing. I mean, amazing doesn’t cover it, but my brain isn’t coming up with anything besides…” Buffy gestured, her hands moving far quicker than her mind.
“Amazing?” Buffy hadn’t realized William was several steps back until she heard his teasing reply.
Buffy turned, approached him and dragged him into a kiss that instantly became fervent, greedy. When she pulled away, each was panting.
“Hungry?” On Buffy’s nod, William continued, “Let’s get you fed. We have far more amazing activities to attend.”
~*~
Adhering to tradition, Buffy and William took off their shoes before he slid open a translucent panel revealing a Washitsu, a traditional Japanese room. They joined several other patrons from the kabuki who surrounded a low table on which a nude woman lay.
Buffy had heard of nyotaimori, but considered it sexist and, quite honestly, unsanitary. But the beauty of the sensuous placement of each jeweled colored piece of sushi resting upon lush green banana leaves on the woman’s body combined with the kiss she and William shared that left her wanting far more, had quickly changed her beliefs to the contrary.
Nimbly wielding a pair of black lacquer chopsticks, William grasped and lifted a morsel off the woman’s sternum, offering it to Buffy. She opened her mouth, and the moment the tantalizing combination of flavors hit her tongue, a deep rumbling of delight sounded from her throat.
As she slowly chewed and swallowed, she noticed him watching intently, before taking a piece and washing it down with a shot of sake. Not to be outdone, Buffy followed with a shot of her own. The couple continued alternating between sushi and sake until they had their fill.
“Ready for more, sweetling?” William helped her to stand and guided her to a set of translucent panels.
Spread out before them were three adjoining shoins, rooms far larger and ornate than the previous, each in the brilliant color of gold with suspended ceilings and elaborate wood carvings.
In the center of the first room stood more patrons of the kabuki, absorbedly watching a man expertly binding a naked woman with a length of thin rope.
At war with herself, Buffy felt the steady clashing of indignation and exhilaration. Seeming to sense her inner conflict, William became her personal benshi.
In a deep, hypnotic timbre, he narrated how the bakushi or Kinbaku master tightened the ropes according to the woman’s instructions and how each knot, especially the ones pressing hard against her clit and the valley between her breasts, only heightened her pleasure.
Further exploring the rooms one by one, William described how each man and woman’s elaborate bindings, harnesses, and partial suspensions were all used to stimulate and excite both participant and observer.
Buffy felt her desire intensifying and growing to dizzying proportions, and when they reached a woman who was gagged, blindfolded, and bound from head to toe in a karada or rope dress, she’d reached her breaking point.
Brazenly, Buffy grabbed William by the hand and guided him toward a small hallway off to the left. She felt his body tensing in silent questioning, but after four words of reassurance, he followed her far more than willingly.
“I’m leading the way.”