Chapter 3 - Three

Part 3

 

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Lara had been servicing the roomful of Japanese Yakuza bosses for nearly ten minutes now - handing out sushi rolls and fixing drinks the wet bar - and she had already had to endure more than a dozen smacks on her ass and several vigourous fondlings of her breasts at the hands of the restaurant’s lecherous patrons.  Currently, she was bending over beside a particularly unpleasant old man, holding a heavy tray overladen with glistening sashimi hors d'œuvres.  He was pretending to have a hard time making up his mind, hesitantly perusing the snacks, preventing Lara from moving away, while at the same time surreptitiously sliding his fingers up over the backs of Lara's smooth muscular thighs.

Lara’s smile faltered briefly when the old man cupped the underside of her puffy pussy mound, and started casually stroking the young woman’s warm sex.  Curling his fingers in a slow teasing motion he fingered Lara’s barely covered pussy until the tray in her hands began to shake, by which time her polite smile was hanging on by a thread.

She could do nothing about it, however.  Too much was at stake for her to act on her first impulse, and slam the old man’s head hard against the table – no matter how badly she wanted to.  For at the head of the room, sipping warm sake from a shallow ceramic dish and dressed in a sharp pinstripe suit that looked like it must have cost about as much as a luxury sports car, the defacto head of Tokyo’s notoriously violent Yakuza mafiosi, Boss Taro Tanaka, was watching her every move with hawk-like attention.

“Sir?”, she prompted the old man in polite Japanese, shuddering as his bony fingertips caressed her full left ass-cheek, “would you like me to bring you something from the buffet cart perhaps?  We have a wide selection of starters, snacks and pastries...” - his fingers wormed their way down between Lara’s upraised buttocks and stroked the length of her spread ass-crack, then found her asshole, and worked it, causing Lara to blush and stutter - “...o-or I could (ngh) s-serve you a selection of ice-cold beers (unh) o-or even some nice room-temperature s-sake?”.

The old man leaned over and whispered something in Lara’s ear.  Her face immediately flushed  bright pink.

“I-I’m sorry sir”, she controlled her outrage, barely, “but we don’t offer such... services to our customers here at the Green Dragon.  Now, if you’ll excuse me”.

She tried to move away; the old man grabbed her arm, clearly intent on making a scene.  But Boss Tanaka chose this opportune moment to hit the table with one of his huge, meaty fists, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Gentlemen”, Lara moved back and blended into the shadows as Tanaka’s guttural voice boomed, “as we were discussing, before the arrival of the food distracted us momentarily, we are gathered here today for a purpose...”

“Lara”, Zip’s voice crackled in Lara’s ear, making her jump, “I’m picking up a lot of static on the audio feed - you must be in a steel-reinforced room or something.  Is there any way you can get closer to Tanaka?  We need a clear audio record of everything he says or his lawyer might move for a dismissal in court, based on unreliable evidence.  So the closer you can get, the better”.

Lara gulped.  She looked over at Tanaka.  An ex-sumo wrestler, a Yokozuna in his hay-day, 6’6” tall, 450 pounds of trained muscle turning to adipose flab in middle age.  He was rumoured to be proportionately well endowed below the waist – hung like a horse with an exceptionally thick, foot-long cock.  His arms bulged beneath black pinstripe, his biceps considerably bulkier than Lara’s sleekly muscled thighs.  She took a deep breath, and started inching her way along the wall, hoping that the long, rectangular room’s central arc-lights and shadowy fringes would make it hard for the Yakuza men to notice her approach.



“This purpose of which I speak”, Tanaka continued, “is not merely the accrual of monetary funds, although such gains should indeed be concomitant with our intended ends; but rather we, the crime lords of Neo-Tokyo, inheritors of our fathers’ Yakuza empires and efficacious masters of our great nation’s glorious destiny, must concern ourselves with higher matters...”.

Lara pressed her palms against the wall and side-stepped slowly through the shadows.  The collective attention of everyone in the room was focused on Tanaka at the head of the table; she had maybe eight feet to work in – the distance between the backs of the delegates’ seats and the wall against which she was pressed.  She held her breath and inched closer.

Tanaka expounded: “I speak, of course, of that commodity which underpins finance, that wellspring of power from which the strength of every great man’s efficacy is drawn in this modern world... “.  He paused for dramatic effect: “Control”.

Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a small lacquered case, no bigger than a match box.  He slid it open and withdrew a slim pharmaceutical vial filled with some luminous pink liquid.

“The ability to influence completely - to control - the mind of one’s fellow man, or woman, is truly the holy grail of modern politics...”.

“Okay, that’s great!”, Zip’s voice buzzed in Lara’s ear, startling her, again; she had to remind herself she was the only person in the room who could hear him.  “I’m getting a perfect signal now, boss.  I know you can’t answer me right now, but just stay exactly where you are.  Sounds like Mr. Michelin Man over there’s givin’ us all the rope we’re gonna need to hang his ass out to dry in court”.

Lara flattened herself against the wall and stayed stock still, reciting mantras in her head: chants she’d learned from mountain-dwelling Tibetan monks on her travels, designed to calm her mind and regulate her breathing.  She was less than ten feet away from Tanaka now, worryingly far from the room’s only exit, but with her body, thankfully, shrouded in shadow, for the most part.  Only the fronts of her breasts remained visible: luscious swathes of perspiration-damp cleavage gleaming beneath the room’s warm halogen lamps, rising and falling in time with Lara’s steady breathing.  She tried to suck in her chest, fade into the background, but it was no good; her tits were just too big.  Lara sighed.  She had never wished herself flat-chested in her entire life – until now.

Tanaka continued: “For centuries man has sought to control his fellow man with the threat of violence - intimidation, torture, execution.  Pain.  But these crude methods, through effective, admittedly, in the short term, serve only to engender anger in the subaltern’s mind in the long term.  As has been evinced time and time again over the course of human history, the authority whose mandate resides in intimidation and the threat of physical violence invariably defeats itself – turns slaves against their masters, gives rise to martyrs and political provocateurs, leads ultimately to rebellion and revolution, the downfall of many a great and puissant empire”.

Tanaka took the slim pharmaceutical vial between his forefinger and thumb and held it up in the light, its glass top gilded.

“What I bring before you today, gentlemen, is the antithesis of this approach.  A highly potent and fast acting chemical aphrodisiac, U4EM”.

A murmur of intrigue rippled over the seated men.  Lara’s pulse raced, a vein working overtime in her jugular; she didn’t like where this was going one bit.

Tanaka quietened down his audience with a slow, downward-moving palm.

“For the past eight months I have been paying a highly skilled team of Chinese pharmacologists to research the potential psychological applications of chemically induced pleasure.  And this is the result.  Cheap to manufacture, invisible to all known legal drug tests, but once ingested impossible to resist, U4EM renders its taker weak-willed, highly susceptible to verbal commands, and almost painfully aroused.  Depending on the dosage taken, these effects can last for up to twelve hours at a time, with no gradual tail-off – that means total obedience and acute sexual desire throughout the entire experience.  And incidentally, gentlemen”, he added with a leer, “in our lab tests we found that women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five were particularly susceptible to the drug’s aphrodisiac properties”.

Sneering smiles and lecherous chuckles shuffled around the room; Lara stifled a sneeze.

“And I would like to offer each and every one of you”, Tanaka continued, “a chance to buy into my operation at grassroots level.  An initial contribution of ten million Yen per person, today, will insure a steady supply of U4EM hitting the streets over the next four months.  Of course, you can all expect excellent returns on your investments.  Based on my calculations you should each receive something in the region of a threefold profit margin – that’s thirty million Yen a piece, gentlemen.  And that’s just for starters”.

The room hummed with discussion as Tanaka brought his speech to an end.  The Yakuza bosses seemed hipped on the big man’s offer, enthusiastically nodding and clicking open briefcases filled with money.

“Okay, we got him!”, Lara flinched at Zip’s loud voice in her ear, yet again; she made a mental note to brief the tech-head on acceptable comms noise during missions – after she escaped.  “You did great, Lara!”, he continued.  “Tanaka is gonna be goin’ away for a long time with this evidence.  Now, you just gotta get your ass out of there without being spotted, and we’ll be popping champagne corks on a private jet over the Atlantic Ocean by daybreak tomorrow, heading home to sunny Wimbledon!”.



Lara breathed a sigh of relief.  She started inching back towards the door, thankful that a small disagreement among the bosses was keeping all of their attention focused on the centre of the table.  One of the Yakuza, a newcomer from the looks of him - a lithe young man in his early twenties with short peroxide-blonde hair, chunky gold rings on his fingers, and knife scars on both cheeks - was questioning Tanaka about the deal:

“With all due respect boss, I gotta see me some proof before I go and fork over ten large of my money on this scheme.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I respect you.  I know you’re the big noise around these parts, and your word is as good as gold for most people, but... here’s the thing... how about a demo before we go all in, huh?  I mean, if this stuff really is as all-fire hot shit as you say it is, then there can’t be no harm in seeing with our own eyes, right?”.

Lara grasped the door knob, and was just starting to turn it, when Tanaka’s voice startled her.

“Miss!” - fourteen heads swivelled her way; she stopped dead.  So close – so far.

“Tanaka-sama?”, she forced her feet to stay still, made herself not bolt.  “E-excuse me.  I-I was just returning to my duties in the kitchen”.

“One moment”, Tanaka stroked the backs of his fingers along his huge, triple chin, “Fix me a drink first, then you may go.  Vodka Martini.  Extra dry.  No olive.  Please”.

“Y-yes, Tanaka-sama”, Lara cursed her luck.

The guards outside would gun her down in a heartbeat if she ran, and Lara knew it; but it still took all of her will power to pull her hand away from the doorknob, and then circle around the table to the other side of the room, where the wet bar stood.

An ominous silence fell over the room as Lara mixed Tanaka’s drink.  She stood with her back turned to the men, and could feel their eyes all over her body, undressing her, examining her long slender legs, scrutinising her tight round ass, svelte hips, supple lower back and slim waist.  Fucking her with their gazes.  Turning, Lara couldn’t even bring herself to meet the mens eyes as she carried Tanaka’s drink to the head of the table; she knew they would be staring at her breasts – and became acutely aware of her taut nipples, clearly visible beneath the formfitting satin of her dress, and her large pinkish aureoles, half-exposed above the garment’s plunging neckline.

“Thank you, my dear”, Tanaka took the drink from Lara’s trembling hand.  He took a sip and nodded appreciatively.  “Very nice”.

“W-will that be all, Tanaka-Sama?”, Lara stammered, butterflies in her stomach.  The sheer size of the ex-sumo wrestler worried her – his wrists were larger than her knees.

Tanaka grinned.  “Not quite”.

With surprising speed he grabbed Lara’s left wrist and yanked her forward.  Taken off guard, she stumbled on her high heels and fell face-first over Tanaka’s lap.

“Damnit!”, she squirmed and thrashed wildly, but was easily overpowered, “what are you doing?!  Stop that, this instant!  You bastard!”.  Tanaka gathered up Lara’s forearms and twisted them painfully up between her shoulder blades, holding them there with one hand as Lara struggled and spat.

“Unnh!  You son of a bitch!”, she fought against him with al her might, “what gives you the right to treat me this way, you filth!”, but succeeded only in rubbing her full breasts rather pleasantly against Tanaka’s thighs, and thrusting her ass up towards to his face, much to the amusement of the other men in the room.

*SMACK!!*, Tanaka landed a heavy-handed spank on Lara’s upraised buttocks, making them jiggle.  She gasped, her lower legs kicking out uselessly at the air behind her.

“Calm yourself, my dear”, Tanaka said sternly.  He slid his huge palm up over the backs of Lara’s flexing thighs, stroking her flawless white skin and now-pinkish rump.  He cupped Lara’s left ass-cheek and squeezed it, admiring its fullness as his fingers sank deep into her luscious ass-flesh.  Sliding his thumb down into her ass-cleavage he jiggled Lara’s fleshy buttocks up and down, then from side to side.  Then he lightly slapped at her plump glutes’ tender undersides just to watch them bounce.

“Do not resist me...”, *swap, swap*, “...and you will come to no harm...”, *swap, swap, swap*, “...you have my word".

Lara shuddered, feeling Tanaka’s hard cock rise up beneath her belly.  The ex-sumo’s thick rod throbbed warmly against her abs, its growing length and wrist-thick girth lending credence to the rumours.  She could tell her movements were pleasuring the crime boss, so forced herself to stop squirming in his lap as he continued massaging her ass and stroking and teasing the insides of her thighs with his stocky fingers.

“Yes”, he said soothingly, “your obedience shall not go unrewarded, my dear".

Tanaka slid his fingers underneath the back of Lara’s dress and yanked it up over her hips, laying bare the tomb raider's healthy round ass-cheeks.  Lara grimaced as the crime boss lightly spanked her a few more times.  Then it hit her: he wasn’t spanking her; he was stimulating her blood flow.

She glanced back over her shoulder - too late - and saw a hypodermic needle filled with a luminous pink liquid in Tanaka’s hand – U4EM!

“N-no!”, Lara blurted, “what are you...”,

Tanaka jabbed the needle into Lara’s fleshy left buttock and pressed down on the plunger.

"Ungh!", Lara's eyes went wide, "how... how could you..."; her long brown lashes fluttered, then slowly sank, "...do that... to... me..."

She blinked and shook her head, having trouble focusing all of a sudden.  Her vision blurred like an out-of-focus camera, her sense of balance tilting, vertigo-like, disorienting.  She tried to speak but her lips felt heavy, pouting in a sulky droop.  Her head lolled sideways against the seat of Tanaka’s chair.  Her face and chest flushed with heat as the fast-acting chemical cocktail flooded Lara’s central nervous system, making it hard for her to form cogent thoughts, sensitizing the pleasure centres of her body.

“Stand up”, the crime boss ordered.  His voice echoed in Lara’s mind, compelling, commanding, instigating action; and before she knew what she was doing, she had risen to her feet and was standing beside his chair, swaying unsteadily on her heels.

Tanaka moved his chair back from the table.  Lara’s eyes dropped, drawn magnetically down to the sizeable bulge tenting the crime boss’s slacks.  She licked her lips, swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly wet with excess saliva – she was literally drooling at the sight of Tanaka's hard cock.

“Is there something you would like to do for me, my dear?”, Tanaka’s voice soothed and coaxed Lara’s uncertain mind.

“Y-yes”, she stammered, her eyes misting over, pleading, "p-please, may I?"

"May you what, my dear?".

"May I...", Lara faltered.  "Oh god, this is so embarrassing...", she licked her lips; her eyes flitted shyly around the table, "but may I...suck your cock, Mr. Tanaka?"; she blushed profusely, "I... I know it's a strange request, but, oh god, I just... need it all of a sudden.  I n-need to suck your cock, Tanaka-Sama... please"  She rubbed her thighs together and squirmed girlishly.  "I'll do a good job, I promise..."

Leaning back in his chair, Tanaka spread his legs.  "Be my guest".

Lara folded to her knees at the big man's feet, unable to tear her eyes away from his bulging crotch.

“Watch closely, gentlemen”, Tanaka grinned as Lara's small palms slid up over his meaty thighs, and then her slender fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, "the demonstration is about to begin”.

To be continued..