ALL I EVER WANTED 06 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 02: ALL I EVER WANTED BY MEGUMI KATO AND SAMANTHA WEST CHAPTER VI The Wrap Party Thanks to the skilful mixture of painful constraint and pleasurable stimulation I had been granted during the final scene, I was desperate for a fuck. But somehow I resisted the temptation to masturbate under the shower: I wanted to arrive at the party still hungry for sex. It is never easy to know what to wear on these occasions. It's nicer when the sex seems to arise spontaneously, so one doesn't want to look too eager or too provocatively naked from the start; on the other hand a complex or fragile outfit is likely to be damaged or get in the way. To begin with however I removed the modest nail-polish thought suitable for housemaids in the Anson mansion, and replaced it with a set of long nails in bright gold. When I was satisfied that the glue was dry I stepped naked into my favourite party shoes: gold sandals to match my painted toes, their slim five-inch heels the highest I could conveniently manage. I teetered across the room a few times to get used to them again, relishing the extra wiggle given to my walk by the slightly unequal heels - Matsumoto-san's secret weapon. I enjoyed the tightness of the bonds across my insteps and round my ankles: not enough to hurt but imparting a nice feeling of voluntary helplessness. These were the shoes which had contributed to my masturbatory fantasy the previous night, as I tormented my adoring slave with availability which was not for him. Perhaps there would be someone at tonight's party whose one desire was to worship my little feet bound tightly into pretty shoes with impossibly high heels! I was in a generous mood, I thought, ready to satisfy any desire however strange. Then I looked through the limited wardrobe I had brought with me from Tokyo. I decided on a simple black mini-dress with a loose waist and fastened with ties on the shoulders: I - or someone - had only to pull the bows apart and the dress should fall quickly to the floor. Under it I wore a skimpy pair of black, side-tie wet-look bikini panties which would also come off easily (and, with any luck, end up as somebody's souvenir). I added dangling ear-rings long enough to brush lightly against my shoulders, and a gold slave bangle on my left upper arm. That gave me an idea and, hitching up my dress for a moment, I buckled on a gold chain belt underneath it. That would stay snugly round my waist even after my dress and panties had disappeared, and ought to stimulate my lovers. In my experience girls who take the trouble to wear a little jewellery at a party, especially if it includes chains and hints subtly at bondage, have a much better time than those who rely simply on their nudity to attract attention - however pretty they may look. The wrap party had already started when I returned to the mansion. The staff had set things up in the dining-room: there were spotlights, a well-loaded buffet table and bar down one side, and a dancing area. The music was fast and there were a few energetic people already making use of it; it would change to slower songs once couples began to undress each other and pair off. Couches, some of which we had used in the orgy scene earlier that day, were laid out in readiness around the big room. I soon found Sammy, who had come with her father: she was wearing the same flat sandals and revealingly cut shorts in which I had first seen her, but had replaced the t-shirt with a tight-fitting top woven in gold cord, the knots pressing suggestively against her smooth skin, the mesh so wide that her pretty naked breasts peeped through the holes. She looked, as always, charming and ready for a good evening. It was not long before Torao-san the head cameraman claimed me for our date, and we were soon swaying together to the music, now slowed down as the dance area filled up with loving couples, occasionally picked out by the spotlights swinging round the big room, many already nearly naked in each other's arms and eager for pleasure. "Don't you like me any more?" I pretended to be annoyed with Torao-san as I snuggled close against him. "Of course I do, Megumi. You know I do," he protested. "It doesn't feel like you do," I said as I wriggled my crotch against his. The erection which he had perhaps been politely trying to control at once began to push against me. "That's better," I murmured contentedly. Then, "Help me out of my dress." His hands slowly stopped stroking my back and bottom and, first one side then the other, undid the fastenings on my shoulders. The back of my dress began to fall. Before he could hold me close again, I twisted round in his arms and pressed my back against him, the front of my dress falling open so that my bare breasts were free for his hands to enjoy. In my five-inch heels my arse was level with his crotch, and I could feel his full erection now pressing hard through his trousers against me. I moaned with pleasure as I let my head fall back onto his shoulder. At last I pulled away from him, my hands encouraging my dress over my hips and down to the floor. Quickly I leant to pick it up, and tossed it onto one of the couches. Perhaps I would get it back tomorrow, perhaps not: it didn't matter. For a while I danced alone, letting him enjoy the sexy movements of my body, nude except for my gold jewellery and the little wet-look panties. Provocatively I danced up to him, and away again, frustrating his eager hands. But the slim heels bound excitingly tight to my feet would let me take only little steps, and soon enough I let him catch me and hold me round the hips. "Please make me naked," I whispered simply. Slowly, teasing us both, he pulled the side-ties of the panties apart. As they fell from me, I took them, waved them above my head as I danced apart again, revelling in my lightly decorated nudity, then folded them and tucked them into his shirt pocket. "Souvenir," I said softly. "Please don't forget me." His arm round my waist, my head on his shoulder, we walked from the dance-floor to the nearest unoccupied couch. He undressed; then took me, tenderly and simply. After the day's strenuous orgy it was a delightful experience, and he was a thoughtful lover, ensuring that I came beautifully before letting himself reach his own climax. We lay for a while, stroking and petting each other, till at last he stood up, gathered his clothes and prepared to rejoin the party. "Thank you, Megumi," he said simply, "that was lovely. As lovely as you are." "Thank you, Torao-san," I said, "it was good for me too." He bent and kissed me where I lay. "Ikaru-chan," he said softly, teasingly, stroking my cheek. I reached up, put my arms round his neck and pulled him down onto me again. He kissed me long and hard, then vanished into the crowd. I lay alone for a while, remembering, then began to look around and saw Sammy and Mr Otani waving energetically at me from across the room. I had no idea what had happened to my dress, but no one paid much attention to me as I went over to join Sammy just as I was. I couldn't help feeling a little put out at this indifference. I don't - I hope - suffer from a film actress's vanity, but I did think I made an attractive sight, my nudity nicely shown off by the chain belt, jewellery and high-heels, all in gold. But most of the other girls had undressed by now, and the pairs of lovers had eyes, and hands, and mouths, only for each other. The continuity girl had even taken off her glasses, and was giggling with the American actor who played Ted O'Malley, as he made her repeat her catch-phrase, "I need a crose-up of your plick." Every production has its running joke, meaningless to outsiders. Sammy was naked too now, apart from her gold-mesh top which of course hid nothing. "We've been looking for you for ages, Megumi!" she said. "Oh, you _do_ look nice with nothing on. I'm jealous." "What of?" I replied. "You look gorgeous. I love your top." Sammy ran her hands quickly over her breasts and sides, and blushed. "So do I," she confided. "It gives me such a nice feeling. That's why I asked my ... the people I was with to let me keep it on." I looked more closely at Sammy, and guessed that the firm knots in the gold mesh were exciting her as they bit lightly into her skin. Though she probably had not yet realised it, new possibilities of pleasure were beginning to announce themselves. But there was no time to think about that now, or show her how to find her way to them. Mr Otani had already pulled his daughter down to sit beside him on a sofa, her legs tucked under her, his arm round her waist. I made a pair with her on his left side. He was still wearing the polo-shirt and slacks in which he had come to the party, and seemed so far content to be a spectator of the fun and games going on around him. Perhaps, I thought with satisfaction, he was still worn out from the night before last ... "Listen, you two," he said, "now that I've got you both together at last. Megumi, especially." "I'm listening," I said. "I want to tell you about some plans of mine. You know Sammy here is my only child." He looked at me sharply, almost as if he had heard Matsumoto-san urge me to get the facts on this - though of course he couldn't have done. "She's eighteen, same age as you." "Eighteen, but three months younger," interrupted Sammy from his other side. "All right. Three months younger than you. And my only child." "You just said that, daddy." "So far as I know," he continued, ignoring her. "I think it must be true because if I had any others someone would have told me." "Yes, probably," said Sammy, trying to sound experienced, "women do tend to mention it. Tiresome of them, but there it is." "I thought we agreed," I whispered to him at the same time so that she couldn't hear, "that _we_ were like father and daughter." "Will you two keep quiet while I'm talking?" he said in mock exasperation. "Honestly, it's as bad as having _two_ daughters." He smiled tenderly at me as he said it and held me a little closer to him, his hand fingering the chains of my belt. I could feel Sammy pulling his other arm so that he did the same to her, pressing the knotted cords more tightly against her. "Yes, daddy," we both said at once, then started to giggle. "Now, shush," he said. "One day Sammy is to take over my company. As you know, it distributes Marucho's videos exclusively in this part of the world, together with some other similar stuff." "All rubbish," said Sammy decisively. "Doesn't have Megumi in it." "I'm very glad you two get on so well together," he continued, "because this is what Sammy and I have been planning. I want her to go to Tokyo from now till next autumn, so she can improve her Japanese - which is pretty dreadful -" "Daddy, that's because you never talk Japanese with me." "I haven't heard you talking Japanese with Megumi, and I'm sure she'd be delighted if you did." "But I have to practice my English," I interrupted, "because I need it in this production." "Shush, both," he said, holding us both more firmly to stop us wriggling, "it's enough to drive a man mad. I want her to improve her Japanese and work with Marucho to learn everything she can about the business." "Including acting," said Sammy firmly. "Oh, that would be lovely," I said. "Do you think Mr Nagao would let us appear together sometimes?" "Yes!" she said eagerly, "we must persuade him! We could work out some plots ourselves and put them to him." "Japanese consumers want an international touch in everything these days. They think it adds class." "And think how American audiences will love seeing a blonde girl competing with the Japanese girls and getting fucked just as much as they do!" By now we were both kneeling upright on the sofa, talking eagerly to each other across Mr Otani. "Come back here, and be quiet!" he shouted desperately. Giggling, we sat back on either side of him, folding our legs under ourselves in unison, just as if we had rehearsed it. "Yes, all of those things, fine. I've already fixed it in principle with Mr Nagao. In the autumn I want Sammy back here because she's going to business school to learn how to run an American company. One day," he added quickly. "I'm not giving up yet." "But the problem is ..." said Sammy. "But the problem _is_," said her father firmly, "where is she to stay in Tokyo, and who is to see she keeps out of trouble?" "Out of the _wrong sort_ of trouble," amended Sammy. "And since you and I have been so close all this time," he continued, "and you and Sammy are getting on so well together, Sammy and I thought the best idea would be if she stayed with you." "I'd love it," I said at once. "I _knew_ she'd agree!" said Sammy. It was my turn to shush her. "But she can't possibly stay in my apartment. It's too small for one thing, and for another -" I suddenly remembered the Japanese-style lavatory "- it's not suitable for Westerners." Mr Otani intervened. "I'm sure it's a very nice apartment, Megumi, but what I was thinking was that with the money I'd pay for Sammy's rent you could get somewhere for the two of you, bigger and more convenient." It seemed a lovely idea. I wasn't looking forward to going home to the Tokyo commuting: and to have Sammy's company ... "Do say 'yes', Megumi," she said. "It will be such fun. We'll practice English and Japanese together, and share each other's clothes and boyfriends, and go out and get screwed together, and all the other things girls do. I've never really had a close girlfriend, and I do want you to be my friend." She sounded quite serious, almost in tears, as she finished. I hadn't had a close girlfriend either since I left school and lost touch with my best friend Kimiko - and even though she had been my best friend she had never been the sort of girl I could go out and get screwed with, as darling Sammy put it so frankly. I was enchanted with Sammy, and the thought of going around with her was already exciting me ... and then bringing our casual pick-ups home to a big, central apartment with room for lovely evenings for four or even more ... or just for two: at the back of my mind the memory of a golden head pressed deep between my ivory thighs, of a clever pointed tongue pleasuring me, of soft golden hair tickling my face as a sweet little pussy bobbed eagerly against my lips ... The answer had to be yes. "Excuse me," a voice said in Japanese. I realised that it had been shyly trying to attract my attention for some while. I looked up and saw one of the three junior technicians with whom I had shared a table in the hotel coffee-shop yesterday evening. The other two were standing behind him: he had obviously been elected spokesman. All three were bare-chested but wore identical jeans. I smiled at him encouragingly. He cleared his throat, while his friends pushed him forward. "My friends and I wondered ... if you're not promised to anyone else just now, Kato-san ... we admired you so much last night ... if the four of us could have some ... well, could have some fun together ..." "You've got fans, Megumi," said Mr Otani in English. "Yes, and I think they want more than my autograph," I replied. The three young men looked embarrassed at failing to understand this exchange. I looked at them again. I quite liked what I saw. I rose from the sofa, tossed my long hair back and stood in a posture which I knew Japanese men found both modest and provocative: legs together but one foot slightly forward, hands by my sides but gently stroking my thighs and bottom. "Have you decided who's going to do what?" I asked gently. They shook their heads sadly. I held out my hands to them. "Let's all go and have some fun!" I said. "That's what a wrap party is for. I'm so happy that you asked me." As the four of us ran laughing across the room to an empty couch, and sat together playing _jan-ken-pon_ to decide by paper, stone and scissors who should be the first to have my mouth, my cunt and my arse, I felt Japan with all its lack of sophistication closing in around me. I too needed an international touch in my life. I was glad that Sammy was coming back with me. My three friends were very inexperienced, but they were clean and polite. I showed them what to do; and when they had each in turn enjoyed everything I had to offer them, they thanked me nicely, and scampered off chattering to take a shower, each carrying his jeans neatly over his left arm. I sat alone on the couch for a while, and thought rather sadly about the future. Then I too went to clean myself up. I had been nicely fucked during the party, several times, but I felt unsatisfied. My problem, I could see, was that in the final scene we had shot my sexuality had been wound up to the highest pitch of expectation - only to be left unsatisfied. When I was being taken out of the room and the Director called "Cut!" I was on the brink of a truly glorious experience. On the other side of the door was my dream of heaven: a fully equipped dungeon where I would be helplessly bound and tortured to ecstasy by people who really understood what a girl wants. But the film industry operates in an unreal world: that door closed in San Francisco and would open again thousands of kilometres to the west and probably several weeks in the future. Meanwhile I was left waiting in the doorway, my longings unsatisfied. On my return to the party, I found a place to sit near the door to the hall. A naked girl all by herself at a party soon attracts attention, and I found myself being examined approvingly by a tall American lighting engineer whom American Equity had required us to employ. I knew only that he came from Louisiana, and rather enjoyed the old-fashioned courtesy with which he always treated us girls. I arranged myself enticingly on the couch, sent out "I-want-to-be-touched" messages as I fiddled with my hair and ear-rings, and smiled back. He sauntered over and joined me. "You look as beautiful as I've ever seen you, ma'am," he said, as his eyes roamed with frank desire over my prettily decorated nudity. "Thank you," I said. "I want you to know, ma'am," he said, "what a pleasure it has been to watch you these past weeks, at work and at play." "That's very kind of you," I said. "May I tell you something, ma'am, which may interest you?" "Of course." "I happen to know, ma'am, because I have checked it out, that your people have not yet packed up that neat collection of whips 'n' stuff in that study-room over there." I looked up at him and said nothing. "I also happen to know, ma'am, that there ain't no one in that study-room just now." I said nothing again. "If you don't believe me, ma'am, it'd be mah privilege to escort you right over there and show you." I stood, and moved ahead of him, wriggling provocatively on my uneven heels, towards the door and across the hall. "That's very kind of you," I said over my shoulder. He stood aside courteously to let me precede him into the study, and the heavy door clicked shut behind us. Mr Anson's collection of instruments of torture lay scattered about the room where the actors had left them. I wandered around a little aimlessly, then took up position behind a high-backed leather chair. I adjusted the chain belt till it fitted tightly round my waist, then let my hand play with the heavy slave-bangle on my upper arm, hinting at my desire to submit helplessly to his domination. Then I grasped the top of the chair-back, leaning my bottom slightly outwards. "Please begin," I said, my back towards him, poised and ready, head up, my naked body bent into a taut curve. "It will be mah pleasure, ma'am." "No, mine, I promise you." [Next in Part 07: Chapter VII: Home Again] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams