The Freyja Club Ch. 09

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A return to the office on Monday morning confronted me with an unwelcome surprise before I even had my first cup of coffee. While it was 8 a.m. in Maryland, it was already 7 p.m. Monday evening in Tokyo. Apparently the day had seen a major blow up between our Japanese partner and the President of our joint venture. I was the guy who had championed both, so I was who our CEO wanted to see post haste.

It seemed that, in order to gain some additional distribution of our products on the island of Hokkaido, the President of our joint venture, Moise Yakindo, had entered into an agreement with a firm that was a competitor of our partner. The issue was that our partner’s distribution capabilities were close to non-existent on Japan’s northernmost island, and despite Moise’s pleas to expand them, no efforts to do so were forthcoming. Moise apparently had had enough and had taken the bull by the horns. Now they wanted him fired.

This would not be resolved in one, two, or a million trans-Pacific phone calls. My quickly scheduled flight to Tokyo would be taking off from Dulles International at 5 p.m., just enough time to return home, pack and find my passport. I did call Moise, but he didn’t tell me anything that I didn’t already know or hadn’t already guessed, so I told him what time I was arriving and asked him to pick me up. I wasn’t in a good mood and it wasn’t the most pleasant conversation. It was a lousy start to the week.

The flight from Washington to Tokyo comes within a hundred miles or so of flying directly over the North Pole and every time I’d done it, I couldn’t look at that barren polar scene and not think about what it would be like for the early explorers who were vainly seeking the fabled, but non-existent, northwest passage from Europe to Asia.

I couldn’t sleep, so I pulled out my folio and began to write. It was just these kinds of times that had prompted me a number of years previously to pass the hours by writing stories. In my youth, I had been exposed to some of the bawdy works of Victorian Erotica which not only served as inspiration for my earliest experiments in sexual self abuse, but also triggered what had become a lifelong curiosity about sex and sexual roles of men and women. My stories began to emulate those that I’d read so many years ago, but in a much more contemporary style.

Recently, I had been invited to join an exclusive and very secretive group called the Freyja Club, which not only met, but far surpassed anything that I’d ever encountered or even imagined existed in the realm of erotica. I hadn’t yet gotten through my first year, but I’d already met some fascinating people in this club and I’d decided that I would base my new stories on what they’d shared with me about their own lives. I had just finished Michelle’s and now I was on to Nancy.

As my thoughts pushed the real purpose of my trip into the background, my pen flew as I recounted how I had first encountered Nancy in the Canadian Embassy and then later, in one of those jokes that God sometimes plays on mere mortals, in the Freyja Club. I thought her narrative of how she had transformed herself from a shy and reclusive secretary to an unabashed ‘oral slut’ was more than worthy of being honored by my humble chronicle of her journey, and I had just finished describing her first blowjob as the plane began its descent into Tokyo, coincidentally, over the island of Hokkaido.

Passport Control and Customs were predictably efficient as only the Japanese seem to achieve, and Moise was waiting exactly where I expected. It was already midnight, so I was looking forward to about twelve hours of nonstop sleep. Moise had booked two rooms at the ANA Hotel near the Ginza, so we kept it light for the drive into the city. Fact finding and damage control could wait until morning.

Well, I didn’t sleep for twelve hours for the simple reason that at first light my body woke up and said “time for a run.” I’d been doing five miles almost every morning since I was about sixteen, so I’d become somewhat compulsive about this morning ritual before breakfast.

The Ginza District isn’t very conducive for long uninterrupted jogs, so as much as I disliked treadmills, I headed to the fitness center and was surprised to discover one of the new programmable models that alters the incline and speed. It was a welcome change from the usual monotony, so forty minutes later I was covered in sweat and ready for a shower and the hotel’s breakfast buffet.

I called Moise and an hour later we were sitting in the Ginza Cafe, and he started telling me his side of the story that had yanked me from a nice Monday morning in Maryland halfway around the world to my present location at a hotel in the heart of Tokyo. Unfortunately, I was more than familiar with the situation.

Like most modern corporations, our Japanese partner operated a number of businesses, many of which had nothing to do with our joint venture. The company that Moise had identified in Hokkaido was a good fit from his point of Eryaman Escort view since they had a compatible product line that augmented his own. Unfortunately, it appeared that a different division of this company was engaged in a bitter contract battle with one of our partner’s businesses.

After breakfast, I decided that I needed to make some phone calls, so I told Moise that I’d come out and visit the venture’s operation in the afternoon and have dinner with the key management. It would be something they’d expect and I didn’t want to make things worse by an unintentional snub.

My first call was to Yoshimura Atigi. “Yoshi” was a Tokyo attorney that I’d developed a close relationship with over the years. He had assisted in the original negotiation that had created the venture and was not only a good legal mind, but had demonstrated an impressive understanding of how business is actually conducted in Japan. If I had any hope of defusing the situation, he would be a key asset. He was out, but his secretary booked me for an appointment for the following day.

The second call was to our partner’s Chairman. He was also currently unavailable, but another appointment was secured for Thursday along with the firm’s general counsel. The two of them were the partner’s representatives on the venture’s Board of Directors, so I needed to speak with both.

The last call was to Paul Gleeson. Paul was the independent Chairman of the Venture’s Board. He was the head of the Stanford Research Institute (Japan), and was an American expat who had lived in Japan since the mid 1950’s. He answered the phone himself, so I spent the next hour bringing him up to date on the current crisis. It would be the Venture Board of Directors that would make the ultimate decision about Moise, so Paul’s was a critical vote.

The next three days were a whirlwind of activity. As I expected, Yoshi’s quick grasp of the situation and advice was invaluable and he rearranged his schedule to accommodate my needs. In fact, I chose to include him in my Thursday meeting with Kanjisan and Toyosan, the partner’s Chairman and General Counsel. That meeting went exactly as I expected. With Yoshi’s help we both outlined our positions on the matter in the frustratingly oblique way that is customary in Japan. Most of the conversation was conducted in Japanese, so I had to wait for Yoshi to get me up to date later. Thankfully, it was in the hotel bar over two cold Sapporo’s. His take was that Kanjisan was intransant, but he thought he could convince Toyosan to our point of view. I told him to hurry. We’d agreed to convene the Board the following Tuesday.

As Friday dawned, I felt that I’d done as much as I could do. Always the good host, Moise was prepared to entertain me through the rest of my visit, but I told him that I was fine and to go home and spend the weekend with his family. I had been to Japan many times and that I could take care of myself. Secretly, I was conscious of the small card I carried in my wallet with the phone numbers of the twenty Freyja Clubs around the world and I wanted to definitely check out Tokyo.

That afternoon I dialed the number and it was immediate answered as I expected by a female voice, “Kon’nichiwa, F.C.”

When I responded in English, the woman identified herself as “Akiko,” and said, “Hello, F.C.” I gave her my name, my birth date and the four digit ID number I’d been assigned when I joined and waited while Akiko verified who I was. When she did, she asked how she might be of help. When I told her that I wanted to visit the club that evening, she helpfully spelled out the address, but told me that they were located outside of Tokyo proper and offered to send a limo to pick me up. I graciously accepted her kind offer, so at precisely eight o’clock that evening a black Toyota sedan pulled up at the hotel entrance and “Miko” began weaving his way north through the insane Tokyo traffic.

Forty minutes later we pulled into a long drive and were stopped briefly at a guard station, but when Miko was identified we were quickly waved through and I was deposited in front of what looked like a large three story mansion. I looked around, but saw no other structures in view, but as it was dark, I couldn’t be sure. I did notice that two more cars were coming up the driveway and Milo was pulling away to make room.

I walked up the half dozen steps to the front door and was surprised when I didn’t need to unlock it with the tiny ID chip that was embedded under the skin between my left thumb and forefinger. Inside was the standard Freyja Club reception room. A burly guard sat at a desk with several computer monitors that I knew showed images from several surveillance cameras around the building, and one that would show my membership profile when I scanned my ID. Directly behind the guard was the usual mahogany door with the Viking ship motif and further to the right was the leaded glass Swan door that I knew led to the ladies Sincan Escort “undressing room.” As with all Freyja Clubs, females were required to be naked while in the club itself and so, at the entrance, men proceeded through the Viking door and women entered through a second Swan door once relieved of their clothing.

Immediately inside, I was greeted by name by a pretty Japanese hostess who’s silver tiara said her name was “Hiroko.” Like most young Japanese women, she was short, barely five feet, but unlike the majority. nature had richly endowed her with beautifully shaped heavy breasts. I immediately thought about Rachel. the hostess in the Washington club whose own magnificent tits welcomed my every visit and I casually wondered if it was one of the prerequisites for that particularly job.

Hiroko glanced at her monitor and noted that it was my first visit to this particular club and inquired if I wished to be given a tour. So far I had been in three clubs; Paris, New York and Washington, and all had been similar, but I nodded and Hiroko asked me to take a seat in the waiting area by the Swan door and she picked up a phone from under her podium and spoke briefly to whoever was on the other end. Then she gave me a big smile and turned to welcome the next guest.

As I’ve described in the past. Every club had a waiting area immediately adjacent to the women’s exit door into the club. The couches there were intended to be used by men who are awaiting the women who accompanied them to the club, but I also noted it was a popular gathering place, particular early in the evening, for unaccompanied males to ogle the naked feminine beauty that was streaming into the club through the Swan door. In that respect, it was the nicest waiting area I’d ever seen.

A few minutes later I saw a very nice looking woman approach Hiroko who pointed at me. When she turned and walked in my direction, I could see her smallish tits jiggle, but I was most facínated by the delicious delta of her pubes that were bare as a baby’s cheeks. There’s just something about watching a totally naked woman walk that I find immensely arousing. Wider hips dictate that they walk with a rolling gait that males find so wonderfully exciting, and when seen from the front, even doubly so.

The woman stopped in front of me and extended her slim hand and introduced herself as “Megumi.” From my sitting position, my face was only a couple of feet away from her pubic mound and even at that distance I could smell her distinctive female aroma and I had to stifle the urge to ignore her proffered hand and just bury my face in her cunt.

Of course I didn’t, like the fool I am, I got up and shook her hand, introduced myself and told her how beautiful she was. I think Megumi blushed at my compliment, but asked if I wished to sit and talk at the bar before the tour, or did I wish to get on with it. I offered that a drink first might be in order. Megumi gave me a big smile and I followed her rolling hips to the bar area. I took a seat at one of the high tables and she asked my drink preference and turned and relayed the order to one of the bartenders.

Megumi said that she was usually a bartender herself, but since most guests were over in the restaurant or heading to one of the ‘activities’ it was a relatively slow period at the bar so that’s why she was selected to be my tour guide.

I explained in general who I was and how I’d come to be a member of the club and Megumi seemed facínated by my story of finding an engraved invitation in the middle of the night on an Air France flight over the North Atlantic.

She told me that she’d worked at the club for three years and was into a relationship with one of the other female bartenders. They’d both been recruited by one of the members and she expressed that it was the most wonderful job she could imagine. Megumi must have anticipated my unsaid question, but she added that both she and ‘Tomiko’ had sexual relations with both male and female members on occasion and often they’d go back to their apartment and share their stories while making love. I had always been facínated by the tales that the club’s staff told me of how they managed their private personal lives with the demands of their jobs, and Megumi was giving me another example of how it was possible.

The Tokyo club proved to be somewhat different than the three that I had previously visited. Obviously it wasn’t located in an urban setting which ended up making a big difference. Near the back of the building we looked out over a beautiful lighted garden through large picture windows and further back were the Japanese baths. Known as Sento’s they consisted of four areas. The first was the hot bath pool where several men and women were soaking in the steamy water. The next pool was much smaller but it was ice cold. The general idea was to plunge into it for a couple of minutes straight from the hot bath. The third area was the sauna. Dry heat to Etlik Escort reopen the pores. The final room was for a massage or just to relax. Men were provided with white terry cloth robes, but of course, women were expected to remain naked. One couple was actively fucking and another woman was giving a man on a plinth a nice handjob, but the majority were sitting in loungers smoking or sipping drinks, and three were asleep.

Megumi offered that this was her favorite area, but that she could only use it if she was specifically asked by a member. I asked if she was fishing for such an invitation and she blushed at my question.

As with all the other clubs, the ‘activity suites’ were located on the second floor, as was the ‘Rankō rūmu’ which was the Japanese equivalent of the orgy rooms I’d seen elsewhere. I noted that it seemed that the Japanese preferred public debauchery to the private version as there were much fewer ‘activity suites,’ and the

‘Rankō rūmu’ was heavily populated by people engaged in every imaginable combination of sexual perversion. ‘Anaru,’ or analingus, seemed to be particularly popular as five women and one man were getting their butts plugged. When I glanced at Megumi, I could see her licking her lips as she watched one of the women moan out her pleasure and I casually wondered if this was something else that Megumi would welcome an invitation from me.

I glanced quickly into the Gentleman’s Smoking Room. But it was empty at the moment.

We walked down a broad staircase back to the main level and Megumi escorted me to the ‘Board.’ I was surprised that the board monitor was a Caucasian lass by the name of Tintin. I discovered that she was an Aussie who had married a Japanese national while both were students at a university in Kyoto. Her husband was an airline steward on Nippon, and she laughingly told me that he was probably getting laid during his layover in Singapore. I did wonder about their conversations, “honey, you’ll never guess what the guy who was fucking me said…”

As we were talking, I glanced at some of the posts. In general, I had not made any extensive use of the ‘board,’ since it seemed to be overly populated by gays and people with weird fetishes like toe sucking and double penetrated requests, but one, written in both Kanji and English did catch my eye. It said simply; “female 4 cock worship.”

When I asked Tintin about the card, she looked around quickly and said, “she was just here. I’d never seen her before. Let me look.” Tintin asked Megumi to mind the board for a minute and I watched Tintin’s cute butt as she walked into the bar.

I nodded at the card and raised an eyebrow in a silent question to Megumi. She thought for a moment and said, “I think we’re all facínated by what men have between their legs. I’ve worshiped one or two and I wouldn’t turn down another opportunity,” she said with a big grin. “I’ll keep you in mind,” I retorted,” and I might even throw in the bath.” That got a nice affirming laugh, but I doubted that she’d refuse the invitation.

At just that moment, Tintin returned and had a woman in tow that, to me, looked more Filipino than Japanese, but on closer inspection, perhaps a little of both. She introduced me to “Lei,” a name which I understood was pronounced “lay,” and my mind immediately jumped to the opinion that it was a perfect name for a Freyja Club female.

I could see Lei give me a quick once-over as I did the same to her. She was about forty I thought and had beautiful olive skin. Her hair was long with a little bit of natural curl, much different from the straight hair of Japanese women and I thought in the right light that it also showed a touch of brown. The biggest difference however was her naked pubes. Most of the Japanese women I’d observed were clean shaven like Megumi, and the ones that didn’t had pubic hair that reminded me of brillo pads. Lei was au naturel but sported a silky mound that didn’t at all appear to be Asian.

Lei was unabashedly staring at my crotch and when I glanced down, I could see my arousal was becoming visible. Lei only had one question; “Are you circumcised?” When I nodded in the affirmative, she asked Tintin for a suite key and then turning to me she took my arm and said, “Shall we?”

I waved goodbye to Megumi and Tintin and Lei and I walked towards the stairs. On the way, I casually asked her how she happened to be in the club unaccompanied. She laughed and said her husband who was also a member was out of town and she’d come alone tonight to ‘try something new.’ In the little bit of conversation that we had I gathered that her husband was an alpha male of the domineering variety. I’m familiar with the type, being an alpha male myself, the difference is that I can be dominant without being domineering. She said that they usually came to the club with another couple, ate dinner in the restaurant and then would adjourn to one of the activity suites where normally her husband would fuck the other wife while demanding that she describe, in pornographic detail, how much better he was than her worthless husband who was forced to sit and watch. Lei said that she might get an occasional bit of cock, but usually she and the other wife would be expected to put on a show. If they could arouse her husband for a second go, that was when she would get hers..

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