by Murakami Kasumi (村上かすみ)
Excerpted from The New Huntington Anthology of Queer Literature Vol. III, Forth Edition
From Chapter 12: Asian Thematics in the Western Queer Tradition
The Lost Journals of General Jonathan Aller was published in 2189, six years after the death of presumed author Jonathan Aller. What seems to amount to the entirety of his journals from 2082 to 2131 was published in four volumes and The Lost Journals purports to be an ancillary volume of collected entries chronicling his erotic exploits with partner Troy Hilton. While the publisher, Scarlet Imprinting, maintains that the book represents actual journal selections written by Aller himself obtained through confidential sources, most critics now believe that the volume was in fact penned by Stephen Caranova, known primarily for his imaginative young adult novels and numerous volumes of erotic fiction written under the pen name Howard O’Brian. No definitive evidence validating either position, however, has been found in over 150 years and the question remains one of the great literary mysteries of our time.
Questions of authorship aside, the following excerpts do, in keeping with the theme of this chapter, provide an interesting example of the ways in which elements of Asian erotica have influenced both Western homosexual practice and art. The two following selections taken from the journal series feature the most Asian influenced of the various erotic scenes that are sprinkled quite liberally throughout the accounts.
From The Lost Journals of General Jonathan Aller
February 15, 2098
I don’t know why I agreed to it, but my God I can’t regret it. Even on Monday I just know my chair is going to rub against the bruises on my shoulder blades and make me remember the feel of smooth solid rope pulling there, reminding me of the weekend.
I hadn’t been expecting Troy last night, he hadn’t mentioned getting away from managing the hotels for Valentine’s Day. I nearly sent him packing. What if I’d been followed by someone from the Council or just about anyone else had been at the door with me? All our caution, all our secrecy, would have come to nothing if we were discovered together.
But it was hard to stay mad at him, not when it had been weeks since I’d last seen him and even longer since we’d been able to touch in any way more intimate than a handshake and a pat on the back. Just his presence was enough to quicken my blood, and when he held me tight to his body and whispered assurances against my neck I melted against him.
He coaxed me slowly back to the bedroom, touching and caressing me into a moaning wreck. I was tempted, sorely tempted, to simply say no when I saw the loops of thin black rope, threateningly inert like coiled snakes, dangerous and beautiful, on the bed spread. I could have simply said that one word, no, and Troy would have swept the rope aside to be forgotten on the floor, their power gone. But I have to admit that ever since Troy had mentioned his hobby, the product of a year of misspent youth as he’d called it, I’d been more curious than I’d like to admit.
I nodded my consent and Troy proceeded to drown me in sensation. My uniform slipped off my body at his whim and the coils of ropes seemed to leap up and strike, wrapping around my body. Troy explained in his deep slow tones exactly what he was doing as he placed each rope. In Japanese rope bondage, the bindings both restrain and pleasure by pressing on erogenous zone, stimulating with each movement and magnifying every sensation. I shivered then, just like I shivered when he pulled the ropes in tight circles around my pecs and Troy stopped to brush his fingers across my nipples. God, I can’t even explain how just that light touch almost undid me completely.
More rope then, a diamond pattern down my front, two ropes running parallel across my glutes, rubbing my ass with every twitch, down across my hip, through my legs, under my balls; I was crying by then, my cock so hard I could barely stand it and Troy had to bat my hands away from touching myself more than once. He knocked my knees out from under me, bound my ankles together, then my hands behind my back and bound those to my ankles.
At that point my vision tunneled and the quickening of my breath had nothing to do with arousal. Troy knew somehow, better then I did myself apparently, how difficult being fully restrained would be for me. He kneeled next to me and I lost track of time and meaning as Troy shushed and caressed me, calming and praising me. He whispered how well I was doing, how proud he was, and how aroused. He stood and cupped the bulge in his charcoal slacks, rubbing the flat of his palm against himself as he devoured my body with hungry eyes. I’ve always loved his svelte leanness, but he praises me continually about my muscles, how he loves my strength and power, but on the floor, muscles taut and straining at those ropes, he told me that I looked more beautiful then he’d ever imagined I could.
He pressed my face to his groin and I nuzzled against him, breathing his scent in deeply, and moaning when the ropes around my chest tightened. I nibbled gently through his slacks until my teeth caught his zipper and I pulled. Troy moaned and encouraged me, threading one hand through my hair, pulling my face closer, while he deftly pulled himself free of his pants with the other.
I licked at the thick head, then took it in my mouth and sucked hard enough to hollow my cheeks. I had barely a moment to take a breath before he was plunging his thick length between my lips and was fucking my mouth hard. I’d never thought that I would learn to like this, being on my knees and submitting to his need, but the noises that Troy makes whenever I suck him off are incredible. Sometimes it’s all moans and soft gasps culminating in whines of need, sometimes it’s lusty dirty talk, but last night, with me bound on my knees, Troy screamed and cursed like I was hurting him, like he was dying in ecstasy, and even as I kneeled immobile and he simply took his pleasure, his hips snapping forward and his hand pulling my hair, he begged me, pleaded with me, not to stop as he plunged in and out over and over.
My jaw ached, but he tasted so good, the salt tang and spurt of bitterness that warned me how close he was and I pressed my tongue hard against the underside of his cock, against the vein. I felt every inch of him pass over my tongue, rubbing desperately against that slick muscle. He slipped completely down my throat and I swallowed over and over again as he came. Troy pulled out to milk the last drops from his spent organ as I sucked and tongued the slit clean.
I was panting when he finally pulled away entirely, and it wasn’t just because Troy’d nearly fucked my throat raw. Every inch of my skin was tingling for want of his touch. I had to keep myself from spurting all over when he knelt down and rubbed the ropes stretched across my abs. He started pulling on the ropes, showing how they all connected to each other. He pulled one across my shoulders and I felt the pressure in my balls, pulled the ropes around my torso and it squeezed my ass.
He eventually took pity on me, burying three lubed fingers deep inside me while he rubbed me off, slow and steady as I moaned over and over with each pass of his hand on my cock. The last thing I remember before blacking out was watching my come run down Troy’s fingers in thick streams, and when I was aware of my surroundings again I was untied and lying on the bed.
He apologized to me, saying that he shouldn’t have gone so hard on a novice, but the grin on his face told me he was anything but sorry. I have a feeling that I’ll forgive him tonight, when he ‘lets’ me handcuff him to the bedpost.
September 25, 2105
Even to this day it still surprises me how seriously Troy takes his business. He’ll laugh it off with that gorgeous smile and a shake of his hand, but he can’t deny all the work that he puts into running his hotels effectively. Then he mentioned yesterday, as we started to plan our vacation, that he’d accidentally-on-purpose missed some paperwork on the ryokan he’d just bought in the countryside northwest of Tokyo. The construction crew pulled out the day before, but the staff wouldn’t be arriving for at least another week so here we are on a real, honest-to-God vacation that proves once and for all that Troy loves me more then he loves his damned hotels.
Growing up in Germany and living for years in New England, I’d had my doubts that rice paper would keep a building warm, but Troy mentioned that that’s what some of the updates had been about and pointed out the small wires along the edge of all the doors. The customized force-walls will keep heat in, through Troy and I were both at a loss when we tried to figure out how exactly they managed that while still allowing air circulation. Then again, I’d decided long ago that I’m just from a different era and have no hope of figuring out some of these new technologies. Middle schoolers are better then me at running these new sync-comps, I just don’t have the mental flexibility to think in two spatial planes at once, through Troy seems to do just fine.
Kyle slipped over in the transporter for a minute to bring us dinner last night and I insisted that he sit and eat with us. He warned us that his missus would probably think he’d detoured to a pub for a drink to get out of the dishes so Troy went back to the estate to get her. It’s still hard to fathom, that transporters can take us across the globe in seconds. Very few people have personal ones yet, and they’re only in the finest businesses, but soon, maybe very soon, our planet will seem a hell of a lot smaller.
Perhaps I’m old-fashioned in my thinking, but I’m not sure if the rapidness of this progress is necessarily a good thing. I wonder if we can ever even fully anticipate the full social ramifications of a new technology and sometimes I wake up frightened for the sake of humanity.
The four of us had a wonderful dinner. Kyle mentioned as they left that he’d be by around 9 a.m. (Japan time) with breakfast. I’ll call and mention that he should give us another hour or so as Troy is still sleeping like a log in the (surprisingly) comfortable futon mattresses. But then Kyle will know we were up late last night and in an abandoned ryokan in the middle of nowhere there’s only one thing we could have been doing late into the night. I keep telling myself that I’m too old to be embarrassed about it, but there’s something about knowing that Kyle is speculating about our sex life that makes me blush all over like I’m fifteen again.
But then last night was too good to be embarrassed about for long. Troy had shown me the small outdoor hot spring that had been constructed during the renovation. I don’t really have anything to compare it to, but it seemed quite natural to me. I told him so and he grinned at me like he’d just been voted world’s most eligible bachelor again. Apparently he designed it nearly by himself in his spare time over the past 3 months. He pulled me over to a rock on the far edge that extended into a shelf just barely beneath the water’s surface. He asked me to sit on the ledge and quickly straddled me, cradling my face in his hands as he whispered he’d been waiting to do this since he’d designed the feature two and a half months ago.
We kissed and caressed for nearly an hour, barely even in the water, before the heat started to get to us. We threw on the white cotton yukata that the guests would be using, walked across the hardwood and tatami floors to our room and fell onto the thick futons laid out on the floor.
Yukata are truly the most amazing garments ever invented. They don’t keep you from touching anything at all and we took full advantage last night. It just took a little rubbing, lying chest to chest before the soft cotton simply parted, revealing just about everything while remaining tied at the waist. Troy rolled out from under me and flipped me on to my back, then sucked my neck, down my collarbone to my nipples then skipped straight to my cock (I’ve been developing a bit of a paunch lately and Troy knows how sensitive I am about it) which I mentioned was standing at full attention for him. He saluted my erection, which made me laugh, then proceeded to lick and kiss just the very tip, which made me moan. He knows that he can get me solid as a rock just playing with the head, rolling the foreskin back and forth until I’m pointing up at my stomach, but that it takes a lot more stimulation then that to get me off.
I was thrashing my head back and forth as the tip of his tongue ran tight little circles around the head of my cock when he pulled off and graceful as anything swung his legs over to either side my hips. He slid my erection back and forth along his crack and I could feel the slickness there. My cock jumped, dribbling a little of my own wetness on Troy’s smooth ass when I realized he must have been preparing himself while he’d sucked me cross-eyed.
There is truly no end to his talents.
He slid my cock inside of him ever so slowly and I watched every inch of it enter, every twitch of his hole around the intrusion between his sleek thighs and the parted sides of his yukata. He rocked his hips around once my cock was all the way inside of him and he pressed me against all the most pleasurable places like he was mapping his insides with the head of my penis. I don’t know how I managed to keep my eyes open, but I have a feeling it was something about not wanting to miss a second of the show.
He started to rise and fall on his knees, pleasuring himself with me as he braced himself with one hand against my thigh and pleasured himself with the other. I lifted my hips involuntarily to meet him, feeling every moment of our foreplay building to an unstoppable crescendo. Troy started moving faster, harder begging me not to come yet, that he needed my cock inside him a little longer. His rhythm started to falter and he thighs shook as his muscles exhausted themselves and I grabbed his hips and lifted and pulled Troy against me harder and faster making his scream and clench around me. I bit the inside of my cheek just to make it to those last few thrusts as Troy started coming. I let go then, coming deep inside him, but I kept thrusting, slow and languorous through the very last of the aftershocks and Troy fell on top of me, sweaty, sated and beautiful. We slept together like that for nearly an hour before we got up and cleaned off, then passed out from the exhaustion.
It’s getting close to when Kyle’s planning to bring breakfast. I’d better convince Troy to help me with the little problem I’ve developed before he gets here. That’s both the beauty and the drawback of yukata, they just don’t hide a damn thing.