Visitors From Japan

Sam adjusted the lapels of her fake kimono in front of the mirror in the staff room. It wasn’t really a kimono. For a start, it barely covered her ass, but Mr. Fujimori, the owner of the Ichibankan sushi bar, insisted on the uniform. He said it made the Japanese businessmen who frequented the restaurant feel at home. Sam suspected they felt a little too at home. At least once every shift, some rosy-cheeked bozo groped her as she walked past.

Exiting the staff room, Sam walked out into the circular bar area where florid bits of fish floated around in an endless journey on a small conveyor belt. Mr. Fujimori beckoned her over to the reception desk.

“Miss Samantha…”

“Yes, Mr. Fujimori.”

“Please show me your best bow.”

Sam sighed and placed her hands on her thighs, bending low from the waist. “Mase, mase!” she said in a high-pitched sing-song voice.

“Very good. Excellent.”

Sam gave him a wan smile. “Anything else?”

“Tonight we have very important guests visiting from Tokyo.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to give them a nice bow then, okay?”

“I have ordered a very special dish for them, and I’d like you to serve them. Miss Katia and Miss Susan can bring the food, but you stay in the tatami room and pour sake and… just make them feel welcome. Okay?”

“Sure… when are they coming?”

“They will be here at eight.”

“Fine. Will there be anything else?”

“Please… the wig.”

Sam crossed her arms in front of her and huffed. “Mr. Fujimori, we’ve been over this many times. The wig is too hot to work in.”

The wig in question – blunt-cut, china doll wigs made of artificial hair – was originally part of the uniform until the waitresses got together and resolutely refused to wear them anymore. Fujimori gave in.

“Miss Samantha, please. It makes you look more…Japanese.”

“How can I possibly look Japanese? I have blue eyes!”

“Well… please. I’ll pay you double for the shift if you wear it.”

“Double?” Sam did some calculations in her head. “And the tips – can I keep them?”

Mr. Fujimori smiled. He was well aware that the tips for a tatami room party could reach into the hundreds. “Well… Okay. But only if they are truly satisfied.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s a deal.”

“Excellent. Please go prepare.”

* * *

The party arrived punctually. Sam was at the entrance, wig and all, to greet them. Five middle-aged Japanese men in identical suits got out of a limousine and climbed the stairs to the front door.

Sam smiled and bowed low. “Mase, Mase,” she incanted, and then held the door wide for them to enter.

She led them through to the large tatami room. As the men divested themselves of their shoes, she took each shiny, impeccable pair of identical lace-ups and placed them neatly under the wooden step. She watched them enter and get settled, then nodded to Kat and Susan, waiting in the wings, to bring the hot towels and sake.

At first, Sam felt uncomfortable. The men talking animatedly in Japanese, shouting “Kampai” every couple of minutes as they downed their sake bowls quicker than she could fill them, but eventually, as the food began to come in, she got into the rhythm of it: padding around the room, getting down on her knees beside each guest and pouring. Soon, they were pouring for her and insisting she drink along with them.

Sam tried to pace her intake, but each time she drained one of the little cups, they all started clapping wildly and yelling “Kampai, kampai” again. She began to feel decidedly giggly and, since no one had groped her bum yet, she figured that they weren’t such a bad lot after all.

Suddenly, someone outside dimmed the lights in the room and the sushi chef himself, Mr. Konobu, came in the room, bowing madly, with his two apprentices in tow. They carried a large wooden box filled with ice, and something greyish and fishy. Sam felt vaguely nauseated and looked away as they set it down on the low wide table. A little raw tuna was one thing, but some of the stuff these people actually put in their mouths was disgusting.

There was a lot of ooing and ahhing, and a distinct sea breeze scent in the room. Sam busied herself pouring sake again, and they were back to playing the old ‘two for you and one for me’ game. She regretted not having had much for dinner before her shift; the sake was making her head swim, and the briny smell didn’t help.

Her guests were also getting a rowdier, their exhortations for her to drink becoming more forceful. Finally, the shy one with the glasses aborted his attempt to help her tip the sake cup to her lips and most of it trickled down the front of her chest.

At any other time, Sam would have been livid, but it struck her somehow as terribly funny. She looked down at herself; the wine trickled between the folds of her kimono and into her cleavage.

“Oh…dear,” she giggled.

“Oh, dearu,” repeated the man earnestly, incapable of a final consonant.

He began to dab at her neck with his napkin, politely at first. Sam couldn’t stop giggling. She kneeled forward and pushed her chest out at him.

Within a heartbeat, he’d dispensed with the napkin and began to use his tongue, greedily lapping up the last few trickles of sake.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sam wondered whether this hadn’t gone too far, but the others in the room began whooping and clapping and they converged on her, dousing her chest, her face, her neck in sake and taking turns slurping it up.

“Oh, my God,” gasped Sam, closing her eyes and melting into the sensation of so many warm mouths on her skin. She made one last pathetic attempt at propriety as someone tugged her kimono off her shoulders, but her heart wasn’t in it. She melted into their attentions, feeling warm rivers of sake poured over her and lapped up.

Sam heard the sound of crockery being moved and she mewed as unidentified hands lifted her onto the table. Hot, hungry mouths descended onto her nipples and she squealed in delight. More sake rained down, and more tongues, more mouths, more hands prising apart her kimono, tugging away her obi, pulling her panties off. She squirmed and giggled on the lacquer table, awash now with wine.

She felt the first chilled piece of tuna sashimi placed strategically on her left nipple, only to be devoured away, a moment later. Then another, and another, all over her body, until someone, very delicately, parted her nether lips with an expert pair of chopsticks and seated something deliciously cool and slimy, probably a shrimp, she thought, in the cleft of her pussy.

She gasped at the chill of it. But the gasp was replaced with a low moan of pleasure as someone’s tongue snaked around the morsel, lifting it out and gobbling it up. Sam writhed: it was too much sensation, too much to bear. Each time someone placed another piece of food on her pussy, she’d only get the tantalizingly short sensation of someone removing it. She decided she liked the sake better; it took longer to deal with.

Then, quite suddenly, she felt an icy, wet contact as her thighs were pulled apart. The thought that this whole scenario was wildly obscene only made it hotter. But slowly, it dawned on her that the cold, slimy sensation was engulfing her upper thighs. It was far too big for a piece of sushi. She heard the shushing of ice moving.

Sam’s eyes snapped open and she raised her head. In the dimness of the room, she saw a huge mound of grey rising out of the large box of ice on the table. Numerous tapered tentacles had already emerged and had wrapped themselves around her upper thighs.

“Jesus Christ!” Sam whimpered. Even as she spoke, the tentacled thing in the box was pulling itself out and slithering over the side of the box. More arms snaked towards her, sliding probingly up the inside of her thighs.

“Get it off me,” she squealed.

The man in the glasses held her shoulder to the table, and made unintelligible soothing noises. Then she felt them all join in, pinning her down as the cold tendrils climbed up her body.

The first, tentative probings were terrifying. Something slick and wet nudged at the lips of her pussy and wriggled in between. Even as she felt its sucker-studded tentacle snaking into her slit, another slithered up her body and circled her left breast. Sam went rigid with fear.

“No-o.” The whimper didn’t have any effect on the men surrounding her, holding her down. Instead, one of the men on her right unzipped his suit trousers and fumbled inside, stroking as he watched.

Between her legs, other cold tendrils probed. Even as she panicked, she could feel the rhythmic kisses of hundreds of tiny suckers attaching themselves to her most sensitive areas. One had a firm hold on the nub of her clit and was sending waves of electric pleasure up her body. Another tentacle slithered between her buttocks, already wet from the sake. A prehensile tip nudged at her hole, pushing gently but determinedly into her tightly clenched ass. But her resistance was waning; the attention to her clit was becoming overwhelming and, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t hold her muscles closed.

“Noooo…” she cried again, but this time, there was no truth in it. And with that she relaxed her muscles and gave herself over to the sensations.

No sooner had she relaxed, then a bigger, thicker tentacle pushed its way into her cunt and began thrusting into her. Sam moaned, feeling herself deliciously invaded as the creature began to fuck her ass and cunt in tandem.

The tentacles slithering over her body began to warm, squeezing and releasing rhythmically. In the midst of her ecstasy, Sam looked around the room at the men who surrounded her. Each had relinquished their hold on her and was now kneeling alongside the table, their cocks in their hands, jerking off as they watched the creature fuck her.

Finally, she felt a fat tendril wriggle up her neck and push between her lips, burrowing into her mouth. Sam groaned and sucked, writhing on the slick table, her mind nothing but sensation and pleasure. She whimpered as the first orgasm raced up from between her legs and shook her whole body.

Someone in the room moaned and she felt the hot spray of cum spatter over her torso. It only made her hotter, greedier for more pleasure. The creature sensed it and pushed further into her mouth as she sucked. Again she came, this time yelping as the spasms make her twitch. Two more men lent forward and sprayed her with their sperm.

The tentacles inside her seemed impossibly thick, the suckers at her nipples sending twinges of pain down to her cunt. The fat thing in her mouth moved in and out with determined lust. Finally, she felt the entire creature begin to grow rigid. Each sucker latched on, and the whole musculature of the creature shuddered and went still.

A flood of warm salt water flooded into her throat. Deep in her cunt, she felt a similar gush of liquid erupt and spill out around the thick shaft inside her. This final sensation sent Sam over, tumbling into another, mind shattering climax, and the quiet man with the glasses gasped, fell forward and shot a stream of cum over her breasts.

* * *

Sam must have passed out because, the next thing she knew, a number of hands were helping her to sit up. Someone pulled her kimono around her shoulders and the guy with the specs dabbed solicitously at the mess he’d left on her tits.

She sat on the table stunned, smelling of seawater and watching the businessmen pour each other sake, and mutter toasts. Handed a cup, she knocked it back like an automaton, trying to rid herself of the salty taste in her mouth.

On shaky legs, Sam got off the table. She straightened her sodden robe and made a haphazard attempt to tie the obi back up. Half-heartedly, she scanned the room for her panties, but she didn’t want to look into the box on the table. It was with total revulsion that she spied a corner of pink silk hanging over the side of the wooden container. Sam took a deep breath, bowed as formally as she could and quietly left the room.

As she slid the shoji panel closed behind her, Susan ran up to her.

“Oh, for God’s sake! This is too damn much,” she cried, staring at Sam’s sopping uniform. “Why didn’t you tell them to shove it and walk out, sweetie?”

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but then shut it again and shook her head. There was no place to even begin to explain what had happened. “I need a shower,” she muttered, heading for the staff room.

  57 comments for “Visitors From Japan

  1. Rose
    November 18, 2009 at 5:57 am

    Freaky story but still very compelling for all that.

  2. Heloise
    December 5, 2009 at 9:04 am

    Holy Shit!!!!! what rose said.

  3. January 29, 2010 at 5:22 pm

    Tis VanImp’s fault. She made me read this.

    I never thought I would find octupus sex hot. Fantastic!

  4. City Different
    January 31, 2010 at 9:40 am

    You never fail to amaze me, Rgrl, but you seldom leave me speechless! That is one astounding, otherworldly, dirty scene!

  5. January 31, 2010 at 5:13 pm

    Guh. Just … guh. That was so damned hot!

    xx Dee

  6. Mina
    February 4, 2010 at 1:51 am

    That was surprisingly hot! Thanks!

  7. Gillette
    August 31, 2010 at 1:16 am

    I thought the octopus sex comment in here was a joke. Wish I hadn’t read any of this- fucking disgusting. Can you say yeast infection?

    • August 31, 2010 at 9:55 am

      You’re worried about a yeast infection after having suspended disbelief enough to accept a sexually ravenous tentacle monster? *ROTLMAO* But I still wonder, if you found it so disgusting, why you didn’t exercise enough self control to stop reading it if it offended you? I’m very clear about what I write. And there is a warning at the top right of EVERY page on this site.

  8. September 1, 2010 at 4:20 am

    That was just awesome! mmmm… sushi!

  9. July 28, 2011 at 10:22 am

    A.MAZ.ING story… extremely intense.

  10. Amy
    August 2, 2011 at 8:09 am

    Wow…just wow. I’d never thought I’d be turned on by tentacle sex, but you handled it with care and it came out just….wow.

  11. Emilia
    January 6, 2013 at 11:22 pm

    Squirmy but delicious. Do you know Kij Johnson’s Spar? Also about tentacles and sex, with aliens this time.

    • January 6, 2013 at 11:26 pm

      I didn’t until you mentioned her and then I looked her up! When I can afford myself some luxury fiction down-time, I’m going to eat her up!

  12. February 20, 2013 at 10:51 am

    More, please!
    @ elsie: Sashimi, actually, not sushi. Did *you* read any mention of rice?

  13. Laura
    March 2, 2013 at 9:51 pm

    Weird but absolutely wonderful! LOVED this story

  14. Warren
    January 24, 2014 at 3:08 pm

    Ill never look at another salt and pepper squid the same way .
    Still a delight though

  15. HeathinOz
    April 20, 2014 at 12:50 pm

    Wow, that was very arousing and i like your writing. As a long time viewer of porn i find erotic writing pretty powerful not just a novelty for me, i think i’ll be reading more of it.

    I love your inspiration, i used to find those japanese erotic artworks entrancing, the mix of elegant setting and clothing, with the partners looking so serious, Love the modern take on it too – the octopus multiple insertions and a group of businessmen jerking off. I imagined myself one of the onlookers. I was wanting to wank and at the same time laughing at the silliness of it all. Haha, thanks very much for writing it!

  16. Lucia
    June 12, 2014 at 9:25 am

    Surprisingly hot…

  17. Nikki
    August 14, 2014 at 12:56 pm

    Uhmmmm… I came.

    I also kind of wish there was more. You did the tentacle thing right.

  18. November 26, 2014 at 7:23 am

    Dear Remittance Girl—I loved it!!! and I have had such difficulty finding other writer’s modern material that I liked. I thoroughly enjoyed how evocative it was and how freshly I could feel and smell the whole heady experience.

  19. November 26, 2014 at 12:40 pm

    Dear Remittance Girl,
    I just blogged about tentacle sex and stuck my scene in as well as a link to your wonderful story.

  20. November 27, 2014 at 10:50 am

    Dear Remittance Girl,
    I thought today about all the things I liked about this story—how there was an element of non-con, but it was in such a lighthearted vein that led to no harm, how there was a kind of irresistible build and momentum to the storys sexual energy; so contagious with everyone getting swept up in it and how could a reader not help but do so also. (well, there are always exceptions–I loved your response to one of your commentators above). I also liked your language blend of raw and poetic—after my own heart, really. Do you have other similar stories to recommend to me, preferably with happy/no harm endings?

    • November 29, 2014 at 9:31 am

      I’m trying to think and I don’t think so. Not this kind of lighthearted. This was high fantasy and most of my stories aren’t that. I think it’s really hard for me to feel ethical about writing consequentless non-con with any realism. That doesn’t mean that I don’t believe other writers have the right to do it. It’s a matter of personal choice. But the thing about magical realism or fantasy (as a genre) is that it can, in some cases, allow for a space that is lighthearted without being willfully blind to the unreality of positive non-con. It’s a space I got to here in this story – where I felt ethically that the non-con did not really SAY anything about non-consent in reality, but I haven’t been able to effect the trick again since. I suspect having a squid as a rapist might have helped 😛

      • Madzi
        May 10, 2016 at 7:57 am

        It’s refreshing to find a writer (and subsequent community) whose literary tendencies, sex-positive attitude, and attention to ethical boundaries so closely match my own. Admirable work, Remittance Girl. *applaudes* Sexy use of language is absolutely my biggest turn on. Thank you.

        • May 10, 2016 at 10:43 am

          I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of being sex-positive or letting ethical boundaries get in the way of my fictional writing. But thank you? 😛

      • Alan
        June 12, 2016 at 1:12 am

        The very ambivalent feelings I had while reading this story was one of its most satisfying features. It carried over into my own life questionings, much as good poetry does. Pornography is uni-directed. Good erotica is a side-tracker, like life itself.

        • June 18, 2016 at 4:43 pm

          Yes, that’s an interesting way of putting it, but one I really agree with. Pornography has one aim – and when it’s good, it serves that aim very well. Erotica is more of a circling, taking in a larger landscape of eroticism that gets lost when the focus is purely genital.

  21. Bruised lotus
    December 16, 2014 at 3:19 am

    I have loved your work in silence, which i know you hate, but i can no longer. This is breathtaking stuff! You have a talent for reaching in my twisted mess and pulling out things that really turn me on. Thank you for that and please never stop.

  22. EssDee
    January 2, 2015 at 11:44 pm

    I never thought that I would find something like this arousing…I would like to say that I’m surprised, however you have the ability to turn the undesirable desirable, and tcreate something that’s either arousing, entertaining, enlightening or simply thought provoking. You are an exceptional writer. I look forward to reading many more stories.

  23. Cille
    January 25, 2015 at 12:18 pm

    I love tentacle erotica. This was lovely.

  24. Maisey
    June 23, 2015 at 9:13 pm

    I hate seafood even more now.
    But I love me some tentcle sex stories.

  25. KJE
    July 5, 2015 at 4:47 am

    Well, that was a first. At first the biology side of me was questioning whether or not a cephalopod would respond so erotically while the kink side of me was telling my biology side to stop thinking and just roll with it 😀

    Much like Sam, I would imagine…

    Needless to say, the imagery was incredible, and arousing. The idea of having so many erogenous areas simultaneously stimulated… Oh. My. Yessss.

    Thank you for showing how beautiful tentacle sex can be…

    • Madzi
      May 10, 2016 at 8:03 am

      I’m glad I’m not the only one with a conflict of interests. But I find the fantastical nature of it all that more appealing. 😉

      • May 10, 2016 at 10:46 am

        If you didn’t feel conflicted, I wouldn’t have done my job! 😀

  26. jan
    July 12, 2015 at 12:18 am

    fantastic

  27. Seldom
    July 27, 2015 at 9:46 pm

    A condemned octopuses last wish?
    A banquet served on the waitress.
    And she was worried about wearing a wig?!
    Kooky and fun and yet a touch of reality where the politics of power make the worker vulnerable and submissive.
    Thought provoking as always RG.

  28. Seldom2
    December 28, 2015 at 1:06 pm

    Love love this , I was looking for good tentacle erotica long time a go , and you have it, also with other excellent stories, I am shay writing before but now I can’t spare. With your stories you fill my likes…. Oh what that said of me… Haha… And I also get there with this one
    Please never stop writing !

  29. Iylsa
    January 9, 2016 at 11:34 am

    I literally cummed

  30. Souvik
    February 15, 2016 at 7:15 pm

    I never thought I’ll love tentacle erotica but you proved me wrong. Anyway, you seem not toknow that octopuses have only one arm for sex, the tip of which they detach and throw to the female to impregnate herself. An octopus can’t ejaculated per se, and absolutely not from all the arms.

  31. Randy
    March 5, 2016 at 11:45 am

    Interesting story. Kinda freaky, but kinky too

  32. C
    April 14, 2016 at 11:17 am

    Until reading this, I had never had an orgasm. When I read this, I had three. Thank you a million times over. Please keep writing!

    • April 15, 2016 at 10:45 am

      Um, well… that might be the nicest comment I’ve ever had. Glad to have been your first.

  33. Penny
    April 18, 2016 at 7:53 am

    So, what did she earn in tips? Just wondering…..

    • April 20, 2016 at 11:03 am

      You will need to write the sequel to find out 😛

      • Dog Cat
        October 28, 2016 at 3:10 am

        I absolutely love your stories!!! You mentioned that there will be a sequel. When/Where are you going to post this? I am really looking forward to it.

        • December 19, 2016 at 12:23 pm

          I honestly can’t work up the interest in a sequel. Why don’t you have a go?

  34. Bob Anderson
    April 27, 2016 at 8:07 am

    Loved this; would have loved to lick her clean (creampie eating) afterwards. Yes, I am kinky too. (love snowballing too). You need to write stories where a guy gets to eat multiple creampies and snowballs from a group of somewhat dom women).

  35. Rosie
    May 1, 2016 at 6:12 pm

    This is fantastic! 🙂 really inspiring me to get writing!

  36. Madam Mae
    May 14, 2016 at 9:41 am

    Lured in by the print above your piece which I saw first only a few months ago and became fascinated by. This story was disturbing to me… only because my reaction was such intense visceral excitement. Weirdly sexy.

  37. Alan
    June 12, 2016 at 12:47 am

    I have lived almost three-quarters of a century. After a half-century of self-denial, I began reading pornography to see what the hell all the fuss was about. I am still wondering. Lots to arouse; little to satisfy. You, however, have restored my faith,
    both in the art of evocative writing and the art of wholesome erotica. (“whole” meaning holistic experience)
    Thank you.

  38. Ginoiseau
    June 26, 2016 at 8:08 pm

    Always been intrigued by tentacles. Never been so disturbingly aroused before. Thanks.

  39. D
    July 16, 2016 at 1:58 am

    You have a poetic quality to your work, it makes it nice and elegant. Keep writing strange stories!

  40. M
    August 31, 2016 at 12:44 am

    Weird and very hot! Loved it.

  41. J
    October 5, 2016 at 4:11 am

    Different, but a good one.

  42. Omni
    January 9, 2017 at 4:08 am

    I think I’m now wetter than the octopus!

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