Author: Bob Williams
Title: Haruka's Education
Part: Chapter 3 of 20
Universe: The Megumi Stories
Summary: A young girl is prepared for a career as a Japanese sex artist
Keywords: Mf, tort, ws, Japan

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HARUKA'S EDUCATION 03

By Bob Williams and Haruka Sekine

CHAPTER III

First Whipping

I drove back to my apartment. I wasn't sorry to 
have the evening to myself: several editors were 
pressing for articles they had commissioned on new 
stripper lounges and the latest news of the Tokyo 
sex-scene. If there is one problem with my life, I 
sometimes think, it is finding the time to write it 
all up. I fixed myself some coffee and before 
sitting down in front of my laptop went back to the 
bedroom and changed into a _yukata_. I picked up 
Haruka's pretty thong from where she had abandoned 
it. It had been lying there long enough to lose 
most of her aroma, but there were still enough 
traces of her love-juice to stimulate my 
imagination. As I sat in my office tapping away the 
words flowed easily, helped along by occasional 
inhalations of her fragrance and gentle, slow 
stroking of my erection through the thin cotton of 
my _yukata_.

I completed three assignments and e-mailed them to 
impatient editors, stretched, and went to the 
kitchen to fix something to eat and drink. When I 
had tidied up, I chose a new porn video from a 
studio specialising in BDSM and slavery themes. The 
storyline was a hackneyed one: two pretty girls of 
good family were decoyed to a secret establishment 
which boasted a suite of cells and torture-chambers 
in the basement. There they were stripped of their 
clothes and dressed in charming little fetish 
outfits consisting of black leather straps, chains, 
cuffs and padlocks. They were forced to service 
their captors with their mouths and pussies, and if 
they did it well were allowed to relax by 
pleasuring each other before an appreciative 
audience. Naturally they gradually came to 
understand how much these experiences accorded with 
secret desires they had never before acknowledged 
to themselves. There was a delightful scene in 
which they were obliged to take turns whipping each 
other and did so with growing enthusiasm: I could 
build on that the next day, I thought, when Haruka 
and my expected pupil would be sharing my own 
torture-chamber. Although the little scene was 
agreeably stimulating, I resisted the temptation to 
masturbate. It had been a hard day and I hoped the 
next day would be another. Haruka's shift at the 
hostess club was due to end at midnight and I did 
not expect her home till well after that: she was 
sure to have private assignations with customers 
which she wouldn't want to miss. So I went to bed 
without waiting for her to return.

It was just as well I had kept some sexual capacity 
in reserve. Around one o'clock I woke to hear a car 
drive up to the building's main entrance. She'll be 
a while longer, I thought lazily as I dozed off 
again: if she's been given a ride home by someone 
from her club she'll want to take her time over 
thanking him. Twenty minutes later the bedroom door 
burst open and Haruka bounced in, clearly on top of 
the world. I switched on the bedside lamp and 
blinked at her in its light. She was wearing her 
ragged denim micro­skirt and her heels but was 
otherwise naked.

"Oh, I've had a ­_marvellous_ evening!" she 
announced, making straight for the bathroom. "Wait 
a moment while I wash the cum off and I'll tell you 
all about it!"

"Does it have to be now?" I asked wearily, knowing 
very well that it did.

I heard her singing happily in the shower, and 
after a few minutes she was back, nude now and 
drying herself vigorously.

"Did you come home like that?" I asked.

I tried not to sound as if I disapproved - and of 
course I didn't. I was only concerned that Haruka's 
admirable desire to tease every man who looked at 
her by flaunting her blossoming sexuality might 
lead her into adventures she was not yet proficient 
enough to handle. On the other hand, she loved 
sexual exploration and the more varied the 
escapades she plunged into the more experienced she 
would become ... it was too complicated to think 
through at half-past one in the morning.

"No, of course not!" she replied with mock 
indignation. "I was wearing my skirt. You saw. 
Anyway, two of my gentlemen looked after me and 
brought me home."

"I heard the car."

"Yes. And of course I had to thank them. That's why 
I had cum all over my breasts! I didn't want to get 
it on my top so I didn't put it on. You don't mind, 
do you?"

"I don't mind."

She giggled happily, dropped the towel and jumped 
into bed beside me. Her head was on my shoulder and 
her long hair flowed over my chest and face. It 
felt good and smelled good, with a combination of 
the floral shampoo she used and the aroma of sex. 
One hand went straight to my cock and began to 
stroke it.

"Mm'mm! Nice!" she said. "Are you nearly ready for 
me?"

I abandoned any idea of sleep.

"Tell me what else you've been up to this evening 
and I soon will be," I said.

"Well," she said, snuggling up against me, "when I 
arrived I went to the dressing-room of course and 
took my clothes off and brushed my hair so as to 
look my best, and I already had my nice high-heels 
on which you always say make you want to fuck me, 
so I didn't need to change and I went straight to 
the main bar. There weren't many people there but 
there were a few gentlemen who seemed pleased to 
see me and some of them ordered drinks and asked me 
to, you know, do other things for them, so that was 
nice."

She giggled prettily again and began to tickle my 
balls with her long pointed fingernails in the way 
she knew I liked. I guessed she had found her 
"gentlemen" liked it too.

"Of course there were quite a few other girls there 
too, working on the same shift as me, so a lot of 
the time I just went on sitting naked on my stool 
at the bar, swinging my legs and hoping to be 
wanted. After a while the place filled up and 
became livelier, and a few of the girls went off 
for private sessions with gentlemen. Nobody had 
asked me to do that but I knew the sort of special 
things they did together and was so hoping that 
someone would invite me! I was chatting with a 
gentleman who had taken the stool next to mine at 
the bar and was sort of looking me over the way I 
like because it gives me a nice tingling feeling 
and I had my hands behind my head pretending to 
straighten my hair, the way you taught me because 
you like the way it makes my breasts lift ... you 
know?"

I knew all right.

"And suddenly I could hear a strange sound from 
somewhere, a sort of high-pitched squealing mixed 
with regular grunts as if someone was working hard 
... I didn't know what it was but in a strange way 
it excited me and made me shiver. So I asked the 
gentleman I was with and he looked at me rather 
strangely and said, 'You really don't know? Then 
I'd better show you!'

"He stood up and gave me his hand as I scrambled 
down from my stool, then slipped his arm round my 
waist as we stood together. I went up on my highest 
tiptoes in my heels and kissed him, because I 
thought he would like it, and then he led me out of 
the main room into a separate area. His arm round 
my waist slipped down and his hand began to pat and 
stroke my bottom: it felt lovely, and in a funny 
way it sort of blended with the shivering and 
tingling the squealing and grunting sounds were 
arousing in me as if they somehow belonged 
together. Then when we got to where he was taking 
me I realised that it was the area I had seen 
before where the two tall frames stood. Like in 
your special room I saw earlier today."

"Whipping frames," I said firmly.

I pulled her on to me. It was my turn now to pat 
and stroke her bottom.

"Ooh, yes, like that please! And yes, those sort of 
frames. And I saw that two of the girls who had 
left the main bar a while ago where standing inside 
the frames. Their wrists and ankles were firmly 
chained to the upright poles but they could still 
move a little. The little platforms they were 
standing on inside the frames were turning round 
slowly and pretty coloured lights were shining on 
them. And as they turned each of them was being 
whipped really hard by a gentleman, and that was 
making them squeal and beg, and making the 
gentlemen grunt with the effort each time the whips 
embraced them! It was so beautiful - and so 
exciting! You remember you whipped me a little 
before I left this evening?"

"I remember."

"And I told you about the little devil inside me 
who woke up and told me I would never stop wanting 
to be whipped like that? Well, he was there all 
right! Making me love what was happening to those 
girls and want so much to have what they were 
experiencing too!"

"What sort of whips were the gentlemen using?" I 
asked, always interested in the technicalities of 
sadism and sexual torture.

"Well, they looked a bit like the whip you used on 
me, with lots of lovely lashes, but they seemed to 
be longer and heavier and some of the lashes had 
knots all along their length."

"Nice."

"Yes! After a while one of the gentlemen dropped 
the whip with many lashes and one of the girls who 
was there watching and serving drinks handed him 
something else: a long whip with a single strand of 
thick braided leather with a loop at the end and a 
little shining star dangling from it - ooh, it was 
so beautiful! And when he started whipping her with 
that, oh so slowly and carefully, it was long 
enough to go round her several times and it must 
have felt marvellous because instead of just 
squealing she started screaming really loud and 
trying to say something - it sounded like 'Oh 
please stop ... please don't hurt me!' But she 
can't really have wanted him to stop, can she?"

"No, of course not. She was just teasing him, 
making him want to whip her even harder. And 
teasing herself too - playing with the idea that he 
might stop when that was the last thing she 
wanted."

Haruka was silent for a moment, digesting this new 
technique for enhancing the pleasure a loving 
couple can find in each other.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "I suppose you would 
enjoy it even more if you pretended it wasn't going 
to last, even if you knew it was. Anyway, I was so 
thrilled! I couldn't take my eyes off her, she was 
so beautiful, and I was hanging on to my gentleman 
and burying my head in his shoulder and squirming 
against him, and his hand was stroking and patting 
my bottom again, except that he was patting me much 
harder, really spanking me, and my little devil 
inside me was giving me no peace, saying 'You want 
to have that! You know you do! Go on, ask for it!'"

"So did you?" I asked.

"I didn't have to. I realised my gentleman was 
saying something to me. 'Do you like that?' he 
murmured. 'Do you enjoy being whipped? Like they 
do?' And of course I had to admit that I never had 
been and had no idea what it felt like."

I gave her bottom as big a smack as I could with 
the _futon_ in the way of my hand.

"Naughty!" I said, "you remember perfectly well I 
whipped you myself before you went to work! And you 
loved it. You knew _exactly_ what it was going to 
feel like!"

"Well, yes," said Haruka with a little wriggle, 
"but I didn't have to tell him that, did I? Much 
nicer for him to think that it was all new to me, 
don't you think? Nicer for me, too ..."

"Little tease!"

"Well, you know I love teasing men."

"And you know very well we love it when you tease 
us. So long as you don't do it for long."

"I _can't_ do it for long," she said, sounding 
almost upset about it. "I want what you want just 
as much as you do. More. I can't make you wait for 
it, that would mean making myself wait too. Anyway, 
my kind gentleman asked me, 'Would you like to 
try?' and of course I was too shy to answer at 
first and then didn't say yes but just asked, 'But 
where?' meaning that the two frames were occupied 
by the other girls and their gentlemen, and they 
were all enjoying themselves so much it didn't look 
as if they would want to give them up for a long, 
long time. So he took me back into the main bar and 
found a big chair for me to kneel in just as I'd 
done for you. I heard him say to one of the girls 
who was watching us, 'Get me a whip!' and she 
fetched one from behind the bar. One with lots of 
lashes like you used and with little knots tied in 
some of them. And then - ooh, yes! - he whipped me 
a few times and then stopped a few moments to ask 
if I was enjoying it. And I remembered what the 
girl in the frame had done and said 'Please don't 
hurt me!'"

"So you knew that was just teasing!" I said, 
slightly annoyed that my instruction had been 
unnecessary.

"Well, I sort of knew, if you see what I mean. Knew 
that it was the right thing to say, anyway. Then I 
wriggled more firmly into the chair and stuck my 
bottom out further for him to whip, and said 
'Please don't hurt me!' again, but of course 
sticking my bottom out for him meant 'Please whip 
me more!' and he understood that. I expect he'd 
whipped lots and lots of girls before, don't you? 
And it began. Ohh! All over my bottom and my back 
and the backs of my thighs - but especially my 
bottom. And then he made me kneel on the carpet in 
front of him, and lean back with my hands holding 
my ankles, and he whipped my breasts and my tummy. 
I wasn't asking him not to hurt me then, I was just 
begging him to do it more and more, and harder and 
harder. And anyway it didn't hurt, it just felt 
fantastically wonderful."

She stopped, and let out a long sigh of pure 
happiness.

"Will you do that to me tomorrow, like you 
promised? In your special room?"

"Of course."

"Are you ready now?"

"Yes."

"So am I."

I felt her soft responsive lips close over my 
erection. As always the inside of her mouth felt as 
perfect a sheath for my cock as her cunt ... more 
so in a way because of the skill and flexibility 
her throat and tongue - and even occasionally her 
teasing little teeth - could bring to the task of 
driving me to ecstasy, maddeningly holding me back, 
and then at last permitting me to explode deep 
inside her. Of course, as Haruka had told me 
repeatedly, she adored sucking cocks and had been 
doing it, and perfecting her technique, ever since 
she had first discovered sex (or sex had first 
discovered her). Her pleasure came partly from the 
sense of domination it gave her over the powerful 
male organ to which she would have to submit if she 
chose to let it penetrate her cunt or arse rather 
than her mouth. But her throat could give her 
orgasms just as overwhelming as those of her 
vagina: it was as if she had a second clitoris 
buried in her larynx [10]. She squirmed round till 
she was lying on top of me; I arranged the pillows 
under my head and neck and began to suck her juicy 
cunt, still fragrant from the shower. After a few 
minutes she withdrew my cock from her mouth long 
enough to say,

"I didn't pee while I was in the bathroom."

"Thank you," I said, "I'm glad you didn't."

I opened my mouth wide and clamped my lips over the 
intricate beauty of her sexual complex: clitoris, 
cunt and tiny peehole. For a while yet we lay 
together delighting in the joy and love which oral 
sex above all can give. Then I felt her pelvic 
muscles shift and my mouth and throat were suddenly 
blessed with a generous flood of the warm tangy, 
lemon-flavoured piss which very young Japanese 
girls create for their discerning lovers' delight. 
[11] When I had swallowed it all and was sure she 
had no more to give me I licked her clean and began 
to thank her by kissing and sucking the sweet 
petals of her cunt. We climaxed together, and then 
lay for long moments still locked in that loving 
sixty-nine embrace which is the most perfect 
communion lovers' bodies can ever enjoy.

At last she scrambled round and found a comfortable 
position with her back to me, her bottom brushing 
lightly against my exhausted cock. My right arm was 
held down by her weight but I managed to free my 
hand so that I could caress her breasts. My left 
hand slipped downwards and she opened her legs a 
little to let me stroke the hairless valley which 
only a few moments ago I had been worshipping with 
my kisses. Now my middle finger was tickling her 
sweet love-button and then sliding along her 
cunt-lips harvesting drops of thick nectar.

"I really can't decide," I said lazily, already on 
the edge of sleep, "which of your mouths I like 
more. Of course my cock feels happy in both of them 
... I love the taste of your saliva ..." somehow I 
was able to bring our faces together so that we 
could share a sloppy open-mouthed kiss "... but I 
love your cunt-juice too ..." I brought my left 
hand up to my tongue and licked the nectar from the 
middle finger before sending it back to find more 
"... and of course both your mouths are _so_ 
beautiful! Isn't it nice that the gods made girls 
with two?" I was almost overwhelmed with the 
pleasure of fatigue and yawned deeply. "Let's sleep 
now ..."

"I can't sleep! I'm too excited!"

"But you must rest. You'll need all your strength 
for tomorrow. Remember?"

"Of course! I'm longing for it. That's one of the 
things that's keeping me awake. Perhaps I'll sleep 
tomorrow ..." she added vaguely.

"Girls don't sleep in my torture-chamber," I said. 
"They're too busy screaming."

"Oooh!"


FOOTNOTES

[10] I think a lot of girls have that gift, if 
their partners are thoughtful enough to help them 
develop it. The ?rst time I saw a medical diagram 
of the larynx I was struck by its similarity to the 
vagina. All three of a girl's love-holes can, if 
properly trained and used, drive her (and of course 
her partner) to the most extreme level of ecstasy. 
- B W

[11] Here's a fun party game you will enjoy. Any 
number can play, but let's suppose there are six of 
you and six young girls - fully nude of course. 
Each girl has an empty wine bottle - bottles that 
have contained champagne or sparkling wine are 
best. The girls go into the garden or the pool area 
(wherever a little mess doesn't matter) and fill 
the bottles with their pee - opportunity for much 
giggling and pretty nude horseplay. Then, wearing 
skimpy little waitress uniforms, they carry round 
the bottles on trays with glasses, politely 
inviting you to taste the contents and try to match 
each variety of piss with the girl who made it. 
When you have successfully identi?ed a bottle, the 
girl becomes your slave for the rest of the 
evening. Great fun. Of course the waitress uniforms 
are optional but they make the event more stylish 
and may inspire you with clever ideas of how to 
treat your slave when you have won her. - B W


[Next in Part 04: Chapter IV: The Torture-Chamber] 

For complete series so far see 
/files/Authors/Bob_Williams

Comments welcome at
bobwilliams1@tiscali.co.uk