Jewel the exotic dancer has a successful life in the fleshpots of northwestern Japan, but is there something important she's forgotten? CAUTION: contains explicit sexual scenes.

CHAPTER THREE continued...

"Look," says Candy coming off the stage to loud whistles and cheers, "your boyfriend's there again." I peek through the curtain. He is there. The very handsome, tall Japanese boy with the spiky hair. I get a kind of strange, jelly feeling in my knees and up there when Candy calls him my "boyfriend". I know he's a gangster - they all are round here. That's kinda exciting and dangerous...

"He's not my boyfriend," I whisper, feeling shy, giving Candy a little punch in her arm. But he's very nice looking and he always puts money in my thong, which has my name, "Jewel" in rhinestones down the front.

Then Mr Yahata announces me and the crowd roars. I'm so proud cos they always give me the best cheer. It's cos I'm blonde and tall, and since I had my new boobs done, I'm really big up there too. I love it when men look at me. It makes me so horny I feel like I'm going to cum right there. I love dancing. Soon I'm going to be a real girl, too. I'm so-o-o lucky!

I sway onto the stage to the music and begin to bump along, spinning and grinding round the pole. My inch-long jewelled nails sparkle in the spotlights. All my piercings with the rhinestones make me glitter like a diamond.

I do a couple of dips on the pole, spreading my long legs and wiggling the silver tassly bits on my nipples and the crowd goes mad. They are shouting "Jew-el! Jew-el!! JEW-EL!!" and I think I'm going to go mad too! Then I stride down the catwalk and they run to me, shoving money with their sweaty hands into the band of my thong.

At the end of the runway he is waiting for me. I feel all hot suddenly and I stop at the end to dance for him. His eyes are all over me and I can tell he is hot too. He is suddenly much, much bigger up front! I turn and walk away as the music fades. But I have to see him later. I hope he comes round the back and asks for me.

***

Later, me and Candy are having some vodka and some speed in our dressing room. I feel all giggly as I'm quite a bit drunk. My side hurts from when that punter hit me a few weeks ago but I feel really horny and I'm kind of pretending to grope her and stuff. She's my best friend. She's from Singapore. I like her.

Then one of the newer girls comes in and says something, like someone's looking for me. My heart jumps and I get all fluttery. Candy looks at me with a smile, then gets up to leave, patting me on my arm with a wink. I go over to the mirror and quickly fix my make-up. Someone knocks on my door.

"Come in." I say and then I have to cough as my voice sounds all shaky and croaky. The door opens. My face must have really fell, cos the red-haired woman who came in looks all worried. She comes over and sits down. I know who she is. I think she's called Trish and she's one of the pilots from the house. I find them scary because they're very hard.

She asks me what's happened to me, calling me "Jane" like she knows me, and I say nothing, I'm fine. Then I ask her what she wants and she tries to get me to come with her because she's worried about me dancing in this place, and I tell her that it's none of her business and I get all upset and start screaming then Mr Yahata and Candy come back in and throw her out but it's too late because I'm really upset and I'm crying and nothing's right.

***

Later on, back in my uniform catsuit, I decide to walk for a bit before getting the bus back to the house. It's very dark, but when I leave the club, I can see him standing there. He lights a ciggy and offers me one. We smoke for a bit, and while I'm smoking he starts stroking me on my bare back. He's just a little bit taller than me, which is unusual for a Japanese so I have to look up a little to let him kiss me.

"Why are you trembling?" He says in a surprisingly soft voice. I am crushed up against him and I can feel something hard and metal in his suit. A gun. "I'm scared", I whisper, in the littlest voice.

"Don't be. I won't hurt you." I think he will if he finds out my secret in my pants. But I can't help it. You see, I'm addicted to sucking cock and they pay me well for it because I'm so talented. All the men in this town know that. He kisses me again, then beckons me to his car, a big, silver Mercedes. We get in the back, and he undoes his trousers.

My jewelled nails tickle his hard cock in his pants. He moans. I pull the pants down and I stick my pretty tongue out and begin my happy meal. Meat lolly and cream. Mmmm...

He zips himself up and hands me a wad of notes. "Take me home now," I say, quietly.

***

In my bedroom high up in the house, I'm crying. I really fancied that tall spiky-haired boy but instead my muddled old head went all automatic on me and I gave him a blowjob for money instead of talking to him.

Now I'm just a cocksucker whore to him. But even if we could talk, why would a good-looking young gangster want to talk to a little airhead like me, anyway. I'm his quick bang. And I can't even do that properly because of what I have in my panties. I cry myself to sleep.

***

The next day, I see Trish again, looking at me in the canteen. But I ignore her. That night I give my young gangster head again in the backstage area. Then I dance some more to forget.

***

"Jewel-chan," he says, "I think I'd like to see more of you." And my face lights up.

We're sitting in the back of his car, two weeks later. It's parked up looking at the night-time harbour and my heart is pounding. I've just finished wiping his cum off my face and fixing my make-up. I put my hand on his thigh. "I'd like that too," I whisper.

"You bring me luck," he says, taking my hand. "Whenever you suck me off, I feel stronger and better. I figure that if you stick with me, my career's going to seriously go places."

That wasn't quite what I wanted, but-

"You know," he goes on, " I'll make sure you're comfortable and everything, but I want you to stop going with other guys and only go with me, right?"

"Of course, honey," I say quietly, smiling, but crying inside.

***

My life gets really comfortable after that. My gangster is definitely going places and I'm the top dancer in the top club in Fukui. I find I don't have to do any thinking at all any more. I just let my man take me with him on his journey. I just have to look pretty on his arm and suck him off whenever he asks. It's a simple life. I never see him unless I'm summoned, and he only summons me if he needs me to accompany him or if he needs a blowjob. He gives me an apartment on a beach and an endless supply of gorgeous clothes and things.

Most nights, I don't even go back to the Red Fist house on the hill anymore, and I see less and less of the girls. Candy was moved to another club and I never see her again.

Three months pass.

***

I'm doing some grocery shopping in the supermarket. I'm feeling kind of nervous today for some reason. I'm wearing a very brief leopard halter top that shows off my brown, trim tummy and my lovely, yummy, tanned cleavage, over which my softly permed, long, blonde curls tumble very prettily. I also have on some very short white PVC hotpants and some nice strappy stiletto sandals that my gangster bought me. They make my brown legs look ve-e-ry long. That means that men's eyes pop out when they see me and women just look annoyed. Just like I like it!

I've got this hot new frosted pink lipstick on that tastes yummy like bubble gum, and I'm just refreshing my lip gloss in the household detergents aisle when I realise why I feel nervous. I see this man watching me in the mirror of my compact.

For some reason, he looks really familiar, though I can't place him. Something about a train. My silly mind's so fuzzy. I can hardly remember anything if it happened longer than a few months ago. Gosh, I'm so dizzy! He's a kind of shabby looking middle-aged Japanese man. Nothing special. But suddenly it seems to me that he has been following me all day. Or maybe weeks. I'm really scared. But I try to behave normally and take my shopping to the till. I look around as I put my shopping in the bags but he seems to have disappeared.

Out in the car park, I see him again. He's waiting at the opposite end of the lot, smoking a cigarette. I hurry into my little car and drive off, getting my cellular phone out. I sit in the traffic in an agony of indecision. I'm not supposed to call my gangster - he's supposed to call me. But I'm really scared. I get so distracted that I almost cause an accident and I have to pull over. I switch the engine off and burst into tears.

After a while, I compose myself and decide that I'm OK. I look in the mirror but there is no sign of the man. Maybe I imagined it, or he just fancied me. Yes. That would be it.

I take a deep breath and pull out into the coastbound traffic.

***

Back at the flat, I put the aircon on and start to run myself a bubble bath to start getting ready for work tonight. I strip off my clothes (it doesn't take long) and pad around the cool flat in my sandals, with my little cock hanging out, cellphone in my hand, debating whether I should ring my gangster.

After a few minutes of agonising, I decide that I don't want to make him angry, so I put the cellphone back on its charger and go and have a nice, hot bath.

I come out of the bathroom in a robe patting my hair dry and almost jump out of my skin. The man is sitting there in my nice armchair. Next to him is that woman, Trish.

"D-d-don't kill me." I stutter, backing away to the kitchenette.

"Commander Pierce," says the man. "What is your status? Have you been compromised?"

I suddenly realise he's speaking in English. He's talking nonsense, but in English.

"Wh-wh-what? I don't understand. Please, my boyfriend is a gangster. He'll-"

"As surmised," he says to Trish, who nods. "He is brainwashed. Probable chemical component maintaining the fugue state."

"Is there something we can do for her... I mean, him?" asks Trish.

While the two mad people are having their mad conversation, I have managed to put my hands on a large fish knife in the kitchenette. Keeping it behind my back, I edge forward. "Look, I don't know what this is about, b- but you can't just come into people's houses like this."

The man looks up. "Just a minute", he says to Trish, then he raises a small gun. He pulls the trigger, and before I can scream, I feel this blow, like someone's punched me on my exposed upper chest. I look down and can't believe what I s-

***

"He's coming round." A woman's voice.

I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so bright that I had to shut them again immediately. "Oh, just a minute," said the voice, which had an Australian accent. "Shibata-san said that you'd be sensitive to bright light." I heard footsteps walking away then the sound of drapes being drawn.

Cautiously, I tried again. This time, the room was dark, the pain duller. Trish was leaning over me, smiling, with the small Japanese man behind her. Suddenly, I remembered him, from that train as I first arrived here so long ago. Then I remembered the house, my mission, Sato, the twins. I remembered room 497, being betrayed, captured, beaten and tortured. I remembered-

SHIT!

I sat up and lifted my robe aside, looking at my breasts. They were huge. I'd been a B cup, these must be a D, at least. Then images of baring them in front of leering men, glitter, rhinestones and every single cock that I'd had in my mouth over the last few months overcame me. I scrambled up and ran to the toilet, where I spewed up my guts into the bowl.

***

Trish was sitting with her arm around me as I sipped a weak camomile tea.

"It must have been the water in the club, or something," I said quietly.

Shibata nodded. "It seems likely that the drug that was maintaining your programming was being administered in that place. Fortunately, antidote is commonly available. After I tranquillised you, we were able to inject you with it." He nodded again. "As British Intelligence contact in this territory, I was naturally worried about the condition of the mission when I saw... state that you were in..." He tailed off.

Trish cut in: "I think Shibata-san made contact with me when he saw me trying to reach you. Could have knocked me off my stool with a feather when he told me you were a bloke, darlin'." She stopped and I managed a weak smile. "Still, since then Mr Shibata and I have been planning your rescue."

"It is major risk for me to break cover in this way," said Shibata, "but seemed only solution to your problem, Commander Pierce."

I nodded and took a deep breath. "Now what?" But I knew anyway.

"Mission parameters are greatly enhanced by this development, Commander," said Shibata. "Now you have opportunity to double-bluff Red Fist in new guise as dancer, "Jewel". Your objectives may now be speedily executed and mission concluded to His Majesty and world community's advantage."

I closed my eyes and nodded.

***

I couldn't believe how much I had changed in the months that I had been Jewel. Sure, I'd had a good figure before, but now I had the taut, tanned body of a high-class lap dancer. I was leaner, my tummy flatter and more defined, my navel pierced and jewelled, my ass and hips bigger in comparison to my tiny trim waist, my legs impossibly long and toned. The breasts still shocked me. The implants the Fist had given me made me big and busty, the nipples long, shapely and turned upwards just so. My long neck and my beautiful face were now framed by chest length hair, honey blonde with platinum highlights in a tumbling wave that contrasted with my rather severe straight bob of a few months back. I'd obviously spent time on the beach, as I was a deep, gold tan all over, cinammon skin, except for a triangular shape at my crotch and two lighter patches at my boobs. Fuck, a bikini tan. That always used to turn me on so much when I had been Anthony Pierce.

God, I was hot. I could see just why I was the most popular dancer at the club. Any man would pay good money to see this body dance, and more. Yet there in the closely trimmed blonde thatch at my groin was nestled the little lie. My dainty tiny morsel of a cock, all pert and lost in my ravishing femininity. It was quite literally all that remained of Lieutenant Commander Anthony Pierce. The rest was all Jewel. Cocksucking dance queen of the Kitty Club.

I tore myself from the full-length mirror, glancing for a moment at the exquisite jade butterfly tattoo in the small of my back, then pulled on my restraining G-string. Cock all gone. I didn't need a bra for the stupidly tiny green dress I pulled on. Then I sprayed some Coco on and slipped into a pair of cork-heeled wedges. A short car journey and I'd be in the club to shake and grind in front of a roomful of drunken men.

I was more frightened than before any mission.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps in the lounge. I crept to the connecting door and peered through, acutely aware that I was unarmed and I might have to fight in a micro mini and 5-inch wedge heels. I smelt smoke.

There on my sofa was the gangster, a cigarette between his sneering lips. He was looking handsome in a black fitted suit and open-necked black shirt. His shades were pushed back on top of his expertly waxed spiky quiff. I remembered first seeing him on that train, how he'd smiled at me over his sleeping girlfriend's shoulder. He'd changed since then too, grown in measure, in stature. I think I'd even back then felt a spark from this dangerous man who boasted to me about his kills.

He was here for a blowjob.

My heart was pounding but I would have to get through this somehow. I opened the door. "Hi daddy," I said in my schoolgirl voice that I knew he liked so much.

"Does daddy have a treat for Jewel?" I went on, walking over and snuggling up to him. He put one of his skinny arms around me and smiled, looking down at the erection in his Gucci trousers.

"Come on baby. I need you to do me," he said in a menacing whisper. I suppressed a shudder and bent down, breathing onto the mound in his crotch to warm him up. He began to breathe heavily. "Daddy has a meat lolly for Jewel," I simpered, and cupped my palm around it. "It's so big!"

Then I used my other hand to tease open the fly, tickling him with my jewelled nails. I was breathing hard now too, and it suddenly struck me how much I actually enjoyed doing this, being the submissive little sweet- smelling jewelled plaything of a man who had the power of life over me. That made me think of Bond, and his very tasty cock and I got even more excited. Seems that Commander Pierce had gone AWOL in more senses than just the physical.

I teased his cock free and he moaned as I breathed softly on the tip, where precum was glistening. Then I began to lick the helmet, making little delighted noises which turned him and me on even more. The salt tang of his precum was so delightful that I began to forget who I was and started sucking him in earnest, starting shallow then teasing him deep into my throat without missing a breath. Such a useful talent for a pleasure girl. Oh, how I loved to have a hot cock filling my throat! All that power at the mercy of all the little muscles in my mouth and gullet.

Very soon he was grunting and bucking, mashing my pretty face into his crotch with both hands. I was lost too, my nose buried in his musky place, oh my God he was going to-

A torrent of salty cream hit the back of my throat. I pulled back so that I could taste it all and I kept sucking and sucking until he was spent and empty, and I rolled on my back looking dreamily up at his handsome, lean face. He looked amazed.

"Jewel-chan. That was fucking fantastic," he breathed. "The best time yet. You're so hot, baby, I don't think I'll ever get tired of you."

I smiled up at him, licking the semen off my pretty lips. "Daddy, you never will."

I think it was there, lying contentedly in the lap of a killer, with his spunk still jewelling my chin, that I knew for sure that I would most likely never be a man again. Or should that be, never want to be a man again.

***

to be continued...