Kamishiro was in the kitchen. He could smell eggs and bacon. Would she untie him to eat? Or would she try and feed him? He felt violently sick, imagining her dirty hands all over his nice clean kitchen.

The phone started ringing in the hallway. Ken froze. Perhaps Kamishiro would be so deluded as to answer it? He wriggled in his bindings, if only he could get loose—

The ringing stopped.

And then it started again.

He heard Kamishiro’s footsteps over the sizzle of their breakfast. She appeared in the bedroom, holding the phone and a knife.

“Nora Yasuhisa is calling.” She straddled his chest, putting the phone to his ear and a knife at his throat.

“Tell her that you aren’t well.”

“Hello, Ken.”

“Hi, Nora.”

“You don’t sound ill.”

“I am, I assure you. I’ve been under the weather. On the mend now, of course.”

“Don’t sprout slogans at me, Ken. What’s the matter with you? Does this illness affect your brain?”

He felt the sting of metal against his Adam’s apple.

“Flu. I don’t want to go back until it’s gone.”

She sighed.

“That is so like you.”

“Yes, if you say so. How are you doing, Nora?”

“Incredibly busy, trying to organise those dreadful women in yet another thankless charity function.”

“You have always had such a warm heart.”

His father had been fucking Nora when his mother was still alive, when Nora had been a 13-year-old babysitter. He was four when he first saw them. His father came home from work early, Ken had woken up from his nap. The two of them were grinding against each other on the sofa. Nora in his lap, her firm thirteen-year-old breasts bouncing as she moved.

Ken remembered being frightened and confused, but unable to look away.

“Get well. A man who doesn’t work is a humiliation to his relatives.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

“Goodbye, Ken.”

The phone line went cold. Kamishiro tossed both the phone and the knife aside and threw her arms around his neck.

“You did wonderfully! I thought for sure that you would mess up.” She kissed his cheek before releasing him and standing up. “I looked her up as well. Nora Yasuhisa. She’s so pretty, even at her age. Must have been hard for you, growing up with such a hot girl.”

“I don’t think of Nora that way.”

“I suppose she would be a little old for you,” Kamishiro taunted. “Anyway, I had best go and check on breakfast. Sit tight.”

As he watched her flat, pimpled backside as she walked away, Ken wondered how long this would go on for?

The wound on his chest showed that she was serious, that she would hurt him. That if she wanted to, she could cut deeper, that she could leave him here dead for someone to find. And yet, she seemed to think that this was normal, as though the two of them were newlyweds?

He wanted to scream for help. The temptation was there, but if anyone found them like this, anyone at all, he would be saved only to go to prison. All Kamishiro had to do was cry and say that he was manipulating her, that he violated her, that he had raped her. That was all this would take to ruin him.

He wasn’t his father.

Nora married his father after she finished high school. Ken had just turned eight. The ceremony had been a small one. His aunt and uncle came. His aunt held his hand and had this weird expression on her face, like she could smell something unpleasant. His uncle, smirking, like he was in on a joke that eluded everyone else. His grandmother had refused to attend, disgusted at the match. She would go on to cut his father out of her will.

His friends at school had initially been jealous of his young and beautiful new mother. They were kids and Nora seemed like a princess when compared with the other grade school mothers. They permed their hair and wore too much makeup. Their bodies stretched and sagged. Nora would stand away from them, smoking a cigarette, sophisticated, slender and fresh faced. The other boys were in awe of her.

Of course, as they got older, the penny dropped. His friends would laugh about it. What a shameful dog Ken’s father was, getting hitched to a woman young enough to be his daughter.

None of the scorn seemed to fall on Nora herself. She was too prim and proper to be called a gold digger. He once heard the mother of his friend say that his father must have taken advantage of “that young girl. At least he had done the honourable thing and married her.”

“Ken,” Kamishiro called happily. “I made you breakfast!”

She was carrying a tray adorned with a steaming plate of eggs and bacon and a cup of coffee.

“This looks amazing, Rin-chan,” he said as politely as he could muster. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Oh, of course I can,” she said. “I even know how to make some fancy French dishes.” She laid the tray on the bedside table. “Or…maybe I’m just trying to show off.”

“Will you untie me?” he asked, trying to sound as calm and friendly as he could. It was the voice he used to calm an unruly classroom. “So I can enjoy the fruits of your labour?”

Kamishiro laughed, shaking her head. “No, silly, that wouldn’t be very romantic at all. I’ll feed you myself.” She began adjusting the restraints so he was sat up against the cushions. The bedframe was cold on his shoulders. Kamishiro hummed to herself as she set the tray on his lap and settled her own weight on his thighs. “We can play aeroplane.”

“I would really rather eat it myself,” he said.

“Come on, you are getting breakfast in bed and a cute girl in your lap to feed you, Daddy.”

“Don’t do that,” he snapped at her.

“Don’t like that, huh? Daddy? Really? You have so many hang-ups for a perv with a fancy for teenage girls,” Kamishiro said dismissively. “No, Daddy, so how about I call you, Ken-kun? After all, we are more than just teacher and student now.”

“Fine, you can if you really want to.”

She beamed and settled back down on his lap in front of his meal.

The tray shook and the eggs swayed as she began to cut up some bacon for him. Her technique was clumsy, all elbows and sawing. Ken avoided eye contact with her.

“Open wide,” she said cheerfully as though addressing an infant.

The fork was pushed roughly between his lips. It bashed against his teeth and Ken gagged on the taste of the meat. Her assault continued, Kamishiro cooing as she forced food down his throat.

“Was that tasty?” she simpered.

Trying to catch his breath, Ken nodded his head.

“Yay!” she cheered. “Oh my, look at you, you messy pup!”

Yolk clung to his lips, dripping into his beard and trailing down his chin.

“Look at the mess you made! Like my mother says, the more mess a man makes, the more he’s liked the meal!” She picked up a tissue and began erratically dabbing at his chin.

“Look at this,” Nora sneered.

Ken was sat upright on his bed. In one hand he held his dripping erection, in the other, by his lips, a pair of Nora’s underpants.

He was too frightened to speak or move. He went to cover himself.

Nora laughed. She wrenched the covers away from him with one sharp movement.

“You were bold enough to steal from me. Don’t stop on my account. You clearly have no respect.”

“Nora, I’m sorry—”

“Keep going. Go on. Keep going, you disgusting little pig.”

She flaunted her relationship with his father. Ken would hear them having sex almost every night, sometimes not even in their bedroom, but out in the hall or in the kitchen. The next morning, Ken would sit at the breakfast table, wondering if he was sat somewhere soiled. His father would sit opposite him, smug, like he didn’t care how it looked. Nora would float in, wearing some delicate lingerie beneath a thin robe. She would make coffee for herself and saunter off.

Like some goddamn whore.

She flaunted it.

“Nora, please, I’m really sorry. I am.”

“I said carry on. Surely it’s easier with the real thing in front of you.”

Her eyes were like ice.

“No, I don’t want to—”

She slapped him hard across the face. Tears sprung to his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re so goddamn sorry,” she sneered, “you finish what you started. You steal from me, you dirty my things, and now that you aren’t doing it behind my back, suddenly you’re too good? Suddenly this no longer appeals to you, Ken?”

She hit him again.

He cowered back. She crawled forwards onto the bed, sitting down opposite him. Nora reached over and picked up the panties from where he had dropped them.

“Use these. They are soft, expensive. You’d know if you paid for anything, you little shit. Go on. Make my fucking day.”

Unable to meet her gaze, his hand shaking as he pressed the soft silken panties against his erection. His heart pounding in his chest as he closed his eyes and Ken continued. In his mind, Nora wouldn’t shout or hit him or call him names. She was soft and beautiful, smiling. She was lying under him, wearing her school uniform. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him so gently. He pulled up her skirt and pressed inside her. In his head, Nora was a virgin. She was too good for anyone else. She cried when he pressed inside her. She stroked his hair and moaned into his ear as he moved slow and deep. His hips moving against hers. Her arms stroking down his body.

Ken finished in his hand.

The Nora of his mind vanished. Nora sat across from him, her icy eyes on him. The shame and the stickiness hung from him. His face was scarlet and his eyes filled with miserable tears.

“Put them on.”

“What? Ew, no,” he protested.

“That’s what you were going to do, right? Put them in the laundry to get washed and I’d wear them in a day or two, not knowing where they’d been? No. I don’t want them anymore. They are yours. So put them on.”

“No, Nora.”

“Put them on right now. You aren’t even ashamed. You still aren’t sorry. You’re a pampered, spoilt little shit, Ken.”

“I’m not.” The tears ran down his cheeks now, pooling around his chin. “I’m not like that.”

“I am your mother now,” she said. “And you don’t respect me. You look at me like I’m some woman for you to use up in your hand. You have no respect. You put those on right now or I’ll tell your father what a little deviant you are.”

“I’ll tell him that you made me.”

“You wouldn’t say a thing, Ken. I’m waiting for you to show me how sorry you are.”

He got up from the bed, trembling and silent sobs streaming from his lips. His pyjama bottoms discarded on the floor as he slid his legs into the soiled, silken panties. He pulled them up and felt his semen against his softened cock, the tightness of the thong uncomfortable against his testicles. He felt soiled, unclean, and wrong.

Nora laughed at him.

“You are disgusting. Thank you for the apology.” She got to her feet, dusting herself off. “I hope you think about this moment when you use those again.”


For all installments from True Love, click here.

Previous installments:

  1. Part 1
  2. Part 2
  3. Part 3