Damien Starkey - Tokyo Torture Buch

Misako is a pop idol in Japan, flaunting her masculine image on stage, wearing suits, ties and carrying a riding crop.
Her videos contain S&M scenes of her whipping young men. Her fans cross-dress; the males wear dresses, stockings and heels, the girls wear suits and ties. The scene is one of bizarre adoration and devotion.
But – some of Misako's fans are being murdered, horribly, after gaining access to back stage areas. Assistant Inspector Nakamura is delegated to solve the crime. He is a sadist with a totally submissive wife and finds the Fem/Dom aspect of Misako’s act hard to come to terms with, although it has to be said that he still appreciates the sadomasochistic scenes.
Misako has fun with her young male fans; her roadies enjoy their bodies, too. It is a tangled world that the Assistant Inspector has to probe to find the answer to the Misako murders, a world that becomes even more tangled when he gains an interview with Misako herself and ends up in her torture chamber, finding out first hand how it really feels to be dominated by such a powerful woman!

From the Book:‘ … "That’s enough. Get up, you shit!" she cries at the teenager lying on the floor, her crop swiping the air. The first blow hits him on the bone of the upper arm. He cries out. An imprint is immediately visible. "Put your arms above your head."
She takes a step back, giving herself room for a long swing. She gets him on the ribs, making a diagonal welt. Grinning as she leans in and in a nimble turn of hand that is an under-arm serve strikes him across his sunken stomach.
Moving in behind him she sends the crop from behind her head all the way to his flat ass. Goes for the same shot on the upper swell, and again gets the same reaction, a jerk of his body bringing him up on his toes and a loud "Uuuh!" Again the same whoosh through the air, followed by the sound of the slap.
A heavy blow, she puts so much effort into that it makes her grunt, slams the fleshiest part of his butt-cheeks. He clenches his hands above his head, stepping up on his toes and grinding his teeth. She swiftly follows up, grunting again.
A sharp smack crossing his red globes brings out a drawn-out moan. The blurry scarlet imprints of the leather-encased tip cover his ass. She steps back and glances down, as if to admire his buttocks. Then rushes in with a wild swing.
The cane-like pole falls squarely across the centre of his cheeks, right over his asshole. A long cry and a jump off his toes incites her to press on with the attack. The ragged blows fly in from all directions, power shots that bring out the strain in her features.
"Bend over, you piece of shit!" she hollers, ripping into his flank. "You think I’m going to allow you to touch me?"
"Sorry, mistress," whimpering as the crop tip slaps his hot right globe. "I didn’t mean it! I’m tired; I didn’t sleep more than one or two hours."
"Maybe I should start whipping you first thing in the morning every day," thrashing the backs of his relatively pale thighs again and again, a plodding rhythm compared to the fast beats of the music. "That’ll be one way of ensuring you stay alert. Or maybe I should get rid of you altogether. Maybe it’s time for a new boy. One that doesn’t make mistakes. What do y’ think?"

Englisch!