Japan, 1750.

The most sought after Oiran in all of Japan… was the least touchable one of all. Every powerful man in the empire tried to sleep with you, none of them succeeding past a game of chess. All of them except for one. The Shogun himself, Haruki Tsuyoshi.

You just couldn’t say no to him. And it wasn’t because of his power, or fame, or even fortune. He was just… Oh what a man he was… but no one knew that but you. And no one knew the real you but him. You only slept with him, and he only slept with you. You only lit up when he was your customer for the night, and he only lit up when he had enough free time to visit you.

He enjoyed every second with you. Far away from his stupid subjects. They didn’t know a thing about him, about how he played children’s games with you, let you sing lullabies to him, run your hands through his hair… and how he made you moan his name almost every single night.

This was much more than just a client-courtesan relationship… and you both knew that also.