"For the next two months, you will be spending several hours of your evenings with Hikari Umeko of Aita," Masaru explained to his son sternly, as said teahouse came into view, "Once that time has passed, the stable will review your progress and then determine whether or not Miss Umeko's services will still be needed."
"You may as well evaluate me now. There is no way that a mere whore will help me to put on weight." Tarou scoffed. In mere seconds, Tarou found himself on the ground, nursing his left left cheek. Above him, Masaru wore a thunderous expression as he cracked his knuckles. For a renowned sumo of the Makuuchi divison, Katsu Masaru was lightning quick if need be, and had proven himself to be with the jab he had just sent to Tarou's face.
"You will not belittle Miss Umeko, or any of the other ladies of Aita, in such a way again, boy." Masaru said dangerously, "They have long dedicated themselves to their craft, and moreover, have long dedicated their craft to those of our sport. Should I hear of any disrespect on your part, I cannot make any promises in regards to your future in this sport. I am clear?"
"..Yes, father." Tarou said tersely,pulling himself off of the ground, "I apologize for my actions." There would be no point in arguing with his father when it came to this issue, it seemed. No matter. He would know well enough when two months at this whorehouse found Tarou no heavier, if not lighter in weight.
Masuru eyed his son keenly.
"Make yourself presentable. It is regrettable that during your first meeting with Miss Umeko, your face will be bruised. Your topknot is askew, and your yukata is dirtied." Masaru noted, and Tarou quickly dusted himself off and adjusted his topknot.
Nodding, Masaru opened the flap that served as the door of the Aita Teahouse and quickly ushered his son through. The lobby of Aita was elegantly decorated in that there were very few ornamentations, but what little decoration that existed lent the place a soothing, feminine touch. An elderly woman, perhaps a geisha herself in her younger years, stood a few feet away from the entrance behind a table and bowed as Tarou and his father entered.
"Irrashaimasen, my lord Katsu and honored son. Welcome to Aita Teahouse. We have been expecting you." she greeted amicably, "Hikari, especially, is very excited to meet with the young master."
"It is good to see you, as always, Madam Ohtori." Masaru bowed in return, as did (grudgingly) Tarou, "Tarou, too, has been looking forward to meeting Miss Umeko. So much that I would rather not keep him any longer. Bid you someone to take him to her?"
Tarou resisted rolling his eyes at his father's obvious lie as Madame Ohtori waved a burly man, for security purposes most likely, over.
"Shiro. Please show the young master to Hikari. The last door on the left in the western wing. Arigatou gozaimasu." Madam Ohtori bowed and Tarou soon found himself following the man known as Shiro, and even sooner found himself before the door that housed this Hikari Umeko.
Excusing himself, Tarou was left with the task of opening the door and announcing himself. Swallowing, Tarou quickly slid the door open, intent on announcing his stance on teahouses and geishas, but was momentarily struck mute by the porcelain doll before him.
She was seated very modestly before a table set for a small sumo-sized feast. Her hair was raven, her skin cherry blossoms on snow. She sat unmoving, not one hair astray of her extravagantly pinned up hair, despite a light breeze blowing in from a patio that opened to a garden, her eyes closwed as if in a trance and her mouth hidden by an open fan. A painted crane, she stood to bow.
"Welcome to Aita Teahouse, my lord Katsu," she said at last after an extended bow, opening her eyes and closing her fan, "I am Hikari Umeko, and I will be serving you for the next two months."
Tarou, while impressed by her beauty, soon remembered that he had been forced into coming here, but bowed in return nevertheless.
"How may I be of service to the young lord today?" Hikari asked, her voice softer than falling petals, "Should it please you, I had several dishes prepared for your arrival, should you be hungry"
Gesturing to a large cushion next to the table, Tarou sat, but was surprised when Hikari sat not across from him, on the cushion she had been occupying earlier, but positioned herself behind him and slwoly began to massage his shoulders. Catching the perfumed scent of jasmine, Tarou was momentarily dazzled, but quickly regained his senses.
"Miss Umeko, allow me to be frank with you," Tarou began speaking, while simultaneously beginning to eat; he had eyed a particularly delicious looking chankonabe on the table before him, "This was my father's idea. Had I been left to my own devices, I would not be here. Perhaps we shall form a friendship during the next two months, and you may continue preparing food for me, but any other...services of yours will not be needed."
"You speak as if I am a whore, young master."
Tarou nearly choked.
"My art is nearly as ancient as your own, you know...and just as difficult. As recently as six months ago, I was but a maiko...and you are a makushita, you too have progressed quickly to be only sixteen years of age." Hikari breathed, her voice a whisper in both his ears, "We have spent only moments together...but from within you I sense a great fire, a great determination..."
"You seem to know quite a bit about sumo...and about me." Tarou commented, between bites of chankonabe.
"It is a geisha's duty to please. In order to please, I must know how to please. In order to know how to please, I must know who it is that I am pleasing..." Hikari noted, moving her massage to Tarou's lower back. "And I have been groomed by Aita, which has always held close bonds with the sumo stables, since my birth..."
Tarou grimaced.
"A shame. I'm sure you would have been much more happy to have been chosen by a teahouse that caters to merchants or to farmers even." Tarou said with an ounce of bitterness, "We of sumo are not known for our pleasing bodies."
In a sudden movement, Hikari had stopped her massage, reaching into Tarou's yukata and running her featherlight hands over Tarou's bare skin. Gasping, Tarou was frozen by her touch.
"Do not demean yourself, my lord," the sweet tone of Hikari's voice had been joined by a slight one of mischief, "Sumo wrestlers are of our nation's most honorable. It would be an honor for any woman to be chosen by one as his wife...or as his geisha."
Moving her hands from caressing his breasts, down to massaging his soft stomach, Hikari soon prompted him to take his yukata off.
"My lord...might you remove your yukata? I would be able to serve you much better if it did not impede me...," Hikari purred into his ear, "And so you know...I find your body pleasing...very pleasing...I wonder how you would look in only your mawashi....?"
Hikari's hands, those twin devils, had moved to Tarou's hair know. They had untied his topknot, and were running through his hair like rampant stallions, caressing his scalp and sending deep shivers through him.
Tarou, certain his face was scarlet, is conflicted. He wants to give in so badly...but...
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