ALL I EVER WANTED 20 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 02: ALL I EVER WANTED BY MEGUMI KATO AND SAMANTHA WEST CHAPTER XX Wedding Preparations I decided the time had come to introduce Mr Otani to my mother and to such other relations as I have. This required careful planning. I had told my mother, on the evening of my eighteenth birthday, the memorable day that I landed the job of my dreams, that I was going to work for a film company. I hadn't told her what kind of films the company made; nor that I would be acting in them - just that there might be opportunities for modelling and so on. I think she worked out in due course what my job involved, but she never asked me about it or showed disapproval. I very much wanted to continue this typically Japanese tacit agreement not to talk about things which did not need to be discussed. But I first had to ensure that Mr Otani's American openness would not upset it. In fact I had nothing to worry about. My mother organised a little family dinner and Mr Otani behaved with great charm and discretion. My uncles and aunts were a bit worried at my marrying a man old enough to be my father, and although no one said so I could tell that they were dubious about his mixed origins, but my mother said plainly that I was old enough to know my own mind - nearly twenty, after all, which in Japan makes you an adult - so the family made no objection and welcomed Mr Otani regardless of any private reservations. The studio doctor had recommended a wait of two weeks before fitting the rings permanently into my breasts. Meanwhile he had provided me with antiseptic ointment and shown me how to smear it onto the free part of each sleeper, then slide it into the holes cut in each nipple so that they would heal cleanly. Two weeks was a long time to wait. For the fitting of the rings I wore a sort of bridal costume: a white head-dress and transparent veil, a suspender-belt holding up white stockings, white shoes and long white, lacy gloves. The idea was to have a proper wedding ceremony, with the only variants being my near-nudity and the placing of the rings in my breasts rather than on my finger. The studio had suggested performing the scene in a Christian church, with an altar and cross in the background, and had been puzzled when Mr Otani had vetoed this idea on the grounds that it would cause offence in the North American market. We obviously had a lot to learn about Western taste. It was very fashionable in Japan to be married Western-style and most hotels and wedding companies had Christian priests on call as well as Shinto and Buddhist. Still, if Mr Otani thought a Christian background would be inappropriate for the film version of our wedding - well, presumably he knew best. We performed the ceremony therefore in a neutral setting. Midori and Noriko were there again as bridesmaids, their provocative costumes very similar to mine in leaving them essentially nude, the colours matching those they had worn as the she-devils tormenting me in the torture chamber. Once again Noriko held the instruments for Mr Otani on a tray: the rings had been cut open and pulled apart wide enough to slide easily into my breasts. Mr Otani, in full Western wedding costume, carefully removed the sleepers from my nipples and inserted the rings. With jeweller's pincers he squeezed them back into perfect circles again; then with a tiny blow-torch, fuelled by a gas cylinder out of sight of the camera, he melted the ends just enough to fix them closed for ever. My bridesmaids stood ready with cloths soaked in ice-water to take away the heat from the metal before it had time to spread to my breasts. The sensation of the little blue flame working on the jewelled rings just millimetres from my flesh was extraordinarily arousing, but I had no wish to feel it burn me in reality. At last, marked and decorated now for ever with the sign of his love, I fell into Mr Otani's arms. He kissed me passionately and, forgetting everything except our sexual adoration of each other, we gave the cameras an unscripted session of love-making. The two girls looked on, touching and petting each other charmingly in sympathy with our mutual love. I had explained to the studio that I wanted a quiet, respectable wedding reception as my family and friends would be attending. I was sorry to deprive my colleagues of the sort of carefully planned orgy the studio had laid on for Miss Takahashi the previous year, but my family would be shocked. Of course my friends could do anything they liked once Mr Otani and I had departed on our honeymoon, and all the Katos had left. The actual ceremony would be in a Shinto shrine not far from the studio, and at the reception afterwards I would show myself, like a respectable Japanese bride, successively in formal wedding kimono, Western wedding dress, and going-away outfit. Only in the last did I decide to take a risk with my family and please myself - and, I hoped, my new husband. I had chosen a pair of skin-tight shorts or hot-pants in black, wet-look material which crackled slightly and shimmered in the light as I moved. To make sure they fitted tightly and left the lower curves of my bottom uncovered, they were held up by a broad gold metal belt which fitted snugly round my waist. Matsumoto-san and I had also designed something special to show off my beautiful new breasts. It was nothing but a mesh of delicate little gold chains which clipped to the rings in my nipples and to the edges of the belt, back and front. I found the result very pretty and also very erotic: the tracery of chains held my breasts pointing forwards and upwards, as if held by an invisible bra; and the way each breast was caged by slender chains anchored firmly in the nipple was very arousing. In order not to shock my family - or people on the aeroplane! - too much, I sadly agreed to cover my beautiful gold decorations, and teamed up the hot-pants with a little sleeveless bolero jacket in the same shiny material, open down the front and ending at the lower curves of my breasts. A few inches of the pretty chains passing down my tummy and up my back could be seen, and anyone who wanted to could speculate on where they led. I added matching shiny black gloves and tight, black boots reaching over the knee, the metal-tipped spike heels the highest I could manage. I could hardly wait to remove my jacket and shorts, leaving only the belt and mesh of chains, and submit myself to my new master in just my gloves and my boots. Both had long gold laces cris-crossing along their full length. This hint of a taste for bondage was of course enhanced by the delicate chains decorating my pierced breasts. I hoped my new master would enjoy the hint, and act on it. Looking at myself carefully in the mirror, I decided the contrasting effect of bare flesh and tightly wrapped shiny, black plastic material was very arousing. It was as if my tender young body had been parcelled up and turned into an unresisting gift for my husband-lover to unwrap and use as he wished - as indeed it was. I looked forward to finding out if Mr Otani found the thought as stimulating as I did. The remaining days were very full, as I shopped with my mother for my respectable trousseau, and then went into secret conferences with Matsumoto-san, hunting through her stock and through sex-shops specialising in bondage and sado-masochism for the items I would _really_ wear on my honeymoon. "You must find out how to please him, dearie, you realise that, don't you?" she said. I replied, a bit shyly, that I thought I already did. "Ah, yes, but that's just being lovers for a while, dearie," she said. "That's different. Just being young and fresh and fuckable is enough to hold his attention for a time. But now you're actually _marrying_ an older man with lots of experience and sophisticated tastes. It's your job to find out the things he really likes but hasn't told you about, and do them to him. Starting on your wedding-night." Matsumoto-san insisted on giving me a wedding-present, although I told her she had already done far too much for me. When I opened the package I was disappointed for a moment, thinking she had forgotten I already had a sweet pair of nipple-clamps given to me by Mr Otani in San Francisco. But these were old and beautiful, and she explained that they had a "special surprise": demonstrating the discs' mechanism with a pencil inserted where my nipples belonged she showed me how, when the knobs were twisted to the very tightest setting, tiny needles concealed in the mechanism sprang out and seized the clamped flesh with exquisite white-hot agony. Of course I was wild to try them out at once; but she insisted that I keep them for my wedding-night and I somehow forced myself to promise I would, just checking that there was room for them to fit firmly in front of my beautiful gold rings. Matsumoto-san told me the pretty toy had come from China, and had once been part of the bedroom equipment of an Imperial court lady. I was too busy, and excited, to wonder how she had come to own them, and it was only later that I discovered that they had been a present to her from her lover the first Mr Nagao, who had somehow acquired them when in the Imperial Army in China during or before the War. It was nice to think of the many women and their lovers they must have delighted with their sweet torment since they were first made by a clever court jeweller so long ago. I wondered who the first lucky owner had been. Had her lover told her in advance about the "special surprise" - or had he, as she approached the height of orgasm, twisted the little knobs yet tighter and let her experience the white-hot fire of the clever discs' torment without warning? Lucky girl! - oh, I did so hope it had happened to her like that! My future husband said I could invite as many people as I liked to the wedding, and I went through the list again and again, trying as hard as I could to be certain I hadn't forgotten anyone who would be offended if left out. Of course most of my friends were new since I started at Marucho, so it wasn't too difficult to remember them. I thought of the two girls, Fujiko and Shizue, I had met at the Paradise Club: Fujiko promised to come but Shizue was on duty. One morning I woke up convinced I had forgotten an unpaid debt, and over breakfast it came to me: Shimizu-san, the proprietor of the little sex-aids shop where Ken and I had bought my very first whip. So much had come of that that I felt quite ashamed at having forgotten about her. Time was so short before the wedding that I decided to call on her personally. I suppose it was a year and a half since I had been to her shop, and buildings change so quickly in Tokyo that I made several false turns before I found it again. But there it was, the same as I remembered it. Shimizu-san had hardly changed either, and was delighted to see me: she knew who I was, of course, having watched my videos by way of business, and took some pride in having known me while I was still getting ready for my profession. Even though I brought an invitation card with me, she made excuses about attending my wedding - worried, I guess, that the expected contribution would be beyond her means. Before I left, I asked out of politeness if she had anything especially interesting in stock. "Oh, yes!" she said, her voice sinking to a confidential murmur. "I think I can offer you something for your honeymoon - guaranteed to please." She fetched a cat-o'-nine-tails with unusually long lashes in white leather, and pressed it into my hands. I ran my fingers through it and was rather disappointed: to be whipped with pure white lashes on my wedding-night was a pretty idea, but they were slender and soft, and I could not imagine them giving me more than gentle stimulation - even with all Mr Otani's strength. "I know what you are thinking," she murmured, "you would like something stronger. You're young, and I'm sure you like to be brought quickly to a climax. But I promise you, in the hands of a man who really knows how to treat a girl ... does your future husband whip you well?" "Oh, _yes_!" I said happily, "he's fantastic!" "I'm so glad for you, dear," she said, and put her hand on my forearm for a moment. "I'm sure he could give you a lot of pleasure with this. You see, even with all his strength behind it, it will take you ages to climax: you can spend hours building up to an orgasm you never quite reach. Do try it!" It didn't really sound like my idea of fun, but I bought the cat, partly out of obligation to Shimizu-san and partly because I hoped the sale would encourage her to attend the wedding. Later, standing naked in the apartment, I tried it out on myself. The lashes were long enough to encircle my hips several times, which was nice, and when they fell they left an agreeable tingling where they had kissed me, but even in Mr Otani's hands I couldn't imagine this cat being other than rather tame for my advanced tastes. Not long after that Mr Otani found time to call at my apartment to discuss our honeymoon plans. I was sitting at his feet playing with my new cat while he told me about the resort he had found on a tropical island: a place where clothing was optional and no one would ever interfere when girls were heard screaming in the night ... I was wearing tight black leather shorts cut high on the bottom with a little matching top, and a pair of calf-length laced high-heeled black boots Matsumoto-san had found for me. My friend Bob Williams had been doing some research into nineteenth-century Western pornography and had told us that girls in those days enjoyed wearing such boots. [11] He showed us drawings of a fat Victorian prostitute brandishing a whip with delicate metal tips on the lashes while dressed only in little laced boots. Matsumoto-san was enthusiastic - "made to measure, dear, for a really tight fit, and always _very_ tightly laced," she had recommended with a knowing smile. I hadn't fancied the idea at first, but as always she was right: I found the constriction of the tight-fitting boots incredibly arousing and so did my lovers, some of whom begged to be allowed to grovel on the floor, helping me into them, tying the laces tightly for me, and then worshipping my little feet, kissing the toes and pointed heels. Mr Otani had not commented on my new style yet, but obviously such little boots would be part of my honeymoon outfit. At first I could bear the constraint for only a short period, but I was training myself to enjoy it for longer and longer periods. After all, it was just another variant of the erotic agony which I loved so much. Suddenly that gave me an idea. Suppose the long, soft lashes I was running longingly through my fingers were punctuated with little knots, each pulled as tight as possible so that they formed tiny hard triangles of white leather - wouldn't that make a lovely combination of gentleness and cruelty? Well, it was worth a try. "What are you doing, darling?" asked Mr Otani idly. "I just thought I could improve this cat," I said, pulling a knot as tight as I could. "It seemed a bit tame, but if I add all these little knots ..." "It would hurt you more? _I_ could use it to hurt you more?" "_Much_ more, I hope," I said with a shy smile. "Do you want me to try it on you?" "On the honeymoon," I said firmly. "Not till then. But then ... oh, _yes_!" I could see that the thought had aroused him. I put the cat down - the knots could wait - snuggled up between his legs and opened his trousers. I slipped off my top, so that he could decide whether to come in my mouth or over my beautifully decorated breasts. He chose my mouth; when he was quite finished I swirled the lovely cum around my tongue and swallowed half of it, letting the rest dribble out of my mouth and spatter over my breasts. I let the mixture of cum and saliva stay where it was when he left, enjoying the sexy aroma as I continued working on my whip. It was much harder, and took much longer, than I had expected; but when at last it was done a quick swish round my buttocks showed that my hunch had been right: the mixture was deliciously arousing. I resisted the temptation to try it further, and hid the new toy in my suitcase among my little dresses and g-strings, where it could wait patiently for its opportunity. The wedding went off as well as such things usually do. The formal kimono, with the dagger strapped tightly inside for me to use on anyone who questioned my honour, and the traditional wig and head-dress, were more uncomfortable than anything I had ever worn, and I was glad to change into the dreamy wedding dress in virginal white, fussed over by my mother and aunts. We used Mr Nagao's illness as an excuse to keep speeches to a minimum. Nearly all my friends, lovers and colleagues from the studio and other related companies were there, and although the girls were mostly dressed sexily they respected my wish to leave any orgy till later. A former lover of mine called Les Birch came, accompanied by a pretty plump girl I had not seen before; she was looking at him with a submissive adoration, however, which told me at once what special thing it was he did to her when they were alone together. Little Emi was there, of course, in a skin-tight dress the tiny skirt of which obviously concealed no underwear. Looking at her from the top table, I guessed she was now nearly ripe for the special pleasures Les administered so skilfully. When I returned from honeymoon I must bring them together, I thought: his new girlfriend could not expect to keep him and his instruments entirely to herself. My best friend from school, Kimiko, also came and I was so happy to see how she had developed into a charming if still rather unsophisticated young lady. She was dressed in a very smart suit: the skirt could have been shorter but it was nonetheless enchantingly tight round her pretty bottom. She was seated with Midori and Noriko who, I was delighted to see, were wearing dresses based on the dominatrix costumes they had worn for the piercing of my left breast - though less provocative, for the moment at least. From my position on the top table I could not hear what Kimiko was saying to the other girls, but I guessed she was asking them in great detail what they and the studio did; I watched her eyes getting bigger and bigger as she listened, fascinated, to their answers. Somehow I thought she would be persuaded to stay on to see how the party developed after we and my family had left. At last I was in my carefully planned going-away outfit, and could see at once that it was as much of a success as I had hoped with my new master. Somehow we got away from our well-wishers, leaving them to do whatever they liked for the rest of the evening. There was something I wanted to discuss with Mr Otani just as soon as we were alone together in the hired car taking us to the airport. I wriggled lasciviously against the black leather of the seat, knowing that it enhanced the effect of my sexy outfit. I undid the little link holding my short jacket together and slipped it off, exposing my breasts in all their decorated beauty. "Promise me something," I said. "Of course. If I can." "When you whip me tonight, please promise to do it very hard and very slowly." He smiled at me, and I could tell he was about to tease me by pretending he wasn't going to whip me on my wedding-night. But then he changed his mind. "I thought you liked it fast, so that the pain turns to pleasure quickly." "I did. When I began to enjoy being whipped, I wondered how I could bear the first few strokes, and wanted to hurry through them and move on to the pleasure. Then I realised I was missing something by not enjoying the transition fully. But now ..." "And now?" "I know you'll think it's strange, but I actually enjoy the pain. As pain, not just because it's going to turn into pleasure. So I think I'd like to try making it last. Postpone the transition to pleasure, and feel every stroke properly. So will you promise to do it very slowly, and very, _very_ hard—so that I can enjoy it to the full?" "I promise," he said. "Even if I beg you to speed it up, and let me start to come? You promise to pay no attention to anything I say and make me wait and go on hurting me with all your strength? For hours and hours? It might be rather wonderful to have an orgasm from pain alone. D'you think I can do it?" "If anyone can, Megumi, you can." I kissed him. "There's something else I want to tell you," I said after a while. "I know, you've changed your mind. Well, it's too late." "Silly! It's about the lovely things you did to my breasts." My fingers stroked my nipples gently, and played with the little chains clipped into them. "Tell me." "Ever since you fixed these rings in my breasts," I said, "there's been a funny change in my sexuality. When I'm alone I get my best orgasms from just playing with my nipples and twisting the rings through them. Of course I still love having my cunt and arse stuffed, and being whipped by you is pure Heaven, but my breasts matter to me even more than they used to. Do you mind?" "Of course not. I love your breasts, and they've always been very sensitive, haven't they?" "Yes, I suppose they have. But I've got an idea how we might get the balance right again." "Tell me." "It seems a shame to have just two rings. Wouldn't it be nice if I had rings in my cunt-lips too?" "So long as they don't get in the way of anything I choose to put into your cunt." "I don't think they would. Not if _you_ fitted them, anyway." "I think that's a lovely idea," said my master. "We'll see about it just as soon as we get back." "Thank you. I'd really like that. I was thinking, maybe a row on each side." "If you're that serious about it, why don't we make it a rule that you get a pair of rings in your cunt every wedding anniversary?" "Oh, that would be so lovely! And - I've just had another idea! - don't you think I'd look specially nice with a stud fixed in my navel?" "I should have known better than to encourage you," said my master, and kissed me. "What some girls especially like," he went on, "is a ring here." He touched my clit with his finger through the shiny cloth of my shorts. "No, a little higher up. _Here_." Now his finger was at the very top of my crotch. "Would that be nice?" "The idea is to have a thin wire ring with a little gold pendant attached. Just the right length to tap against your clit all the time as you move." The very idea excited me. I could feel my clit beginning to throb in anticipation and my pussy getting wet. "How _lovely_!" I said, then began to giggle. "But of course only when I'm not wearing panties. Otherwise it wouldn't work." "That's right. It would make you as eager to take your panties off as I am to see you without them." "I shall never wear panties again," I promised. As we drove on towards the airport I explained to him how even more exciting my body would look, nude except for dozens - hundreds - of delicate little chains joining the rings and studs fixed in my breasts, my cunt and my navel. I thought of the little pendant tap, tap, tapping against my clit as I moved, helpless to escape its relentless stimulation. The driver adjusted the rear-view mirror so as to give us privacy. Or so that he could see me better, and what Mr Otani was doing to me. I didn't care. FOOTNOTE [11] Bob says the best collection of nineteenth-century pornography is a magazine called _The Pearl_ which was published in England in 1879 and 1880. It contains several complete novels and he has helped me read some of them in modern reprints. They are _delightful_! There is a great variety of sexual activity - some of which even I had never thought of! - and everything the characters do or have done to them makes them so happy! _All_ the girls - and some of the men, too - adore being whipped and constantly beg for it, which is so charming. [Next in Part 21: Chapter XXI: Honeymoon Island] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_William