I AM NOT ASHAMED 09 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 03: I AM NOT ASHAMED BY KIMIKO KOBAYASHI AND MEGUMI KATO CHAPTER IX Before and After Dinner It was already dark when we got back to the hotel. As David picked up the key, the girl at the desk handed him with a bow a parcel delivered from Hankyu: that would be my pretty high-heeled shoes and fishnet tights, I thought. I remembered the little assistant in the shoe department who had been so discreetly knowing. I hoped I was about to learn something of what she had already discovered. The feeling of urgency became even stronger inside me. But where to start? After the first few stops we were alone in the elevator. I put my arms round my lover. "Please come in my mouth first," I begged softly, "and then fuck me in the arse." "Slave," he replied sternly, "we agreed you would submit to _my_ desires tonight." "Yes, Master," I said. But his hands had already found my bottom, pulling up my tiny skirt as they caressed me. Once we were inside our room, he was the first to undress: he had kicked off his shoes and had shed his trousers and shirt while I was still hanging up my coat. I knelt before him and pulled off his underpants, then held his beautiful erection lightly in both hands. "Please video what we do," I asked, "I want to be able to enjoy it all again later." I didn't tell him that I would be enjoying it in the company of those strict expert critics Tomoko and Shizue. "What would you like me to do first?" I asked submissively as he watched me through the camera. "Undress for me," he said hoarsely. I began with the transparent blouse, pulling the tails out of my skirt and taking my time over the many buttons. I danced as I had done before all the guests at darling Megumi's wedding. Soon the blouse slithered over my shoulders and arms and fell to the floor. By now David had propped the video camera at the right angle on a side-table and joined me. He stood behind me and tore open the three snaps of my skirt, tossing the narrow strip of shiny white cloth aside. Then he knelt and slowly undid the long laces of my boots, helping me to step out of each in turn: again I felt the firm warmth of his hands on my feet and ankles, as I had done in the train so many hours ago. Then he was standing again, his hands now inside my tights, sliding them with my panties slowly down my thighs and knees, then off. Fully naked now, I leant luxuriously back against him, my hands above my head reaching to caress the back of his neck, while he stroked and pinched my eager nipples and delicately probed the moist, sticky petals of my cunt, his erection pressing urgently against my arse. "Put your boots on again," he said softly. "Oh yes, that would be lovely! ... Tie them tightly for me?" I murmured. "_Really_ tight?" I bent to step into the boots again, and then stood while he knelt, pulling the black laces hard round their silver hooks. I don't think he tied them much tighter than the girl in the department store had done, but to be bound so firmly into the leather by his loving hands made my whole body tingle with intoxication. I wanted to beg my new Master to tie me also with the ropes I had secretly brought, but remembered that his desires were supreme. His desires were mine also. As soon as my feet and legs were bound to his satisfaction, he swung an armchair into camera range and commanded me to kneel and take him into my mouth. I complied eagerly, flicking my tongue around the sensitive underside of his cock and then swallowing its head as Bob had taught me. His hands were soon on the back of my head, pushing my throat mercilessly forward onto his cock. Now he was fucking my face instead of leaving it to me to suck him, while my eyes looked adoringly up at him, hoping to see signs that I was pleasing him. Just as I thought he was beyond the point of no return, and about to bless me with his cum, he pushed me back and withdrew his cock from my mouth. I coughed and spluttered for a while. "Do I not please you?" I said at last, hardly able to restrain my tears. "Oh yes, you please me, darling! Too much - I nearly came." "I _wanted_ you to come!" I said indignantly. "Not yet - not yet." He heaved himself upright and stood. "Now you sit here." Quickly I took his place on the cushions, wondering delightedly what he was planning to do to me. He bent and seized my booted ankles, pulling my legs up into a great V while I slid down the comfortable chair. Still holding my legs as high above him as he could, he knelt and pulled me even further towards him till only my back was still on the seat of the chair, then thrust his cock with a single savage movement deep into my eager cunt. I screamed with the joy of it, and he dropped my legs to dangle over his shoulders, seizing me instead by the waist and pulling me even more firmly onto his erection. I knew without being told that he wanted to feel the firmly laced leather of my boots against his skin, and crossed my ankles tightly behind his neck, urging him on with my heels against his bare shoulders. "Oh, deeper, deeper!" I begged him in my joy, and "Harder, darling, harder!" he replied, as I furiously kicked and spurred his back - was he mounting me or I him? - till we climaxed gloriously together. "Don't leave me!" I begged at last, when I could speak again. "Oh darling, no, let's stay like this for ever. Let's die like this together!" But at last his cock began to shrink, and slipped slowly out of me. He slithered down to the floor at my feet, kissing and licking my boots as he told me incoherently how wonderful I had been. Did he enjoy being humiliated and tortured by a girl wearing just high-heeled boots and a few scraps of leather? I had heard of such things, but had no idea how they were done. If that was what he liked - and it did seem rather fun - he would have to teach me what to do to him. What a lot there was to learn in my new life! I thought luxuriously. So far I had just responded to what others had done to me. The new, sexually adventurous girl I had become would need a repertoire of her own. If I passed this weekend's Test, would Tomoko and Shizue teach me? Or - a daring idea occurred to me - I could try to contact Noriko and Midori again at Megumi's film studio: they looked as if they knew everything a girl needed to know about how to take the initiative and stimulate a man with provocative sexuality. Surely they would help me if I appealed to them. I sighed happily as I recalled the wonderfully shameless performance they had coaxed out of me only two weeks ago. David was ready to be masterful again. He scrambled up from the floor and held out both hands to help me out of my chair. "Time we went out to dinner!" he said. Sadly I took off my pretty boots, whose hint of bondage had stimulated us both so sweetly, and showered carefully in the hotel's luxurious marble-tiled bathroom. My friends had provided me with an outfit for the evening: the deep-red dress which I had hardly looked at yet. The upper part of the dress had short, puff sleeves and a low-cut neckline. The skirt was not quite as short as the white plastic one I had been wearing so far, but I was glad to find that it was tightly sculpted round my bottom and just as well designed to appeal to my lover. The black high-heels I had worn on the train and the honey-coloured OL tights would display my legs very nicely, I thought. As I was pulling them on it occurred to me again how much I had changed through my meeting with David. Just a few hours ago I had still been horrified at the thought of showing off my bottom in public, and it was only my determination to pass the Test that made me go through with wearing the provocative costume my friends had provided. Now I was looking forward to the effect I would create, on my lover of course but on anyone else as well who cared to look at me. Still, the girl critically examining her appearance in the mirror, wishing the tight, crimson skirt was cut just a little shorter, was much happier and more at ease with herself than the scared little prude had ever been. For a while I regretted that my friends had not told me to bring any jewellery, then suddenly, looking through the bag they had provided, realised gratefully that they had thought of that! There was a little package wrapped in bubble plastic which contained a gold necklace and matching earrings. I sat down before the dressing-table mirror and quickly put them on. The necklace was an unusual design, made to look like a twisted gold rope tied unevenly round my neck, the long end hanging down, pointing towards my breasts - which, I had to admit, were looking very tempting in the low-cut dress thanks to the officially approved white uplift bra underneath. For the first time I felt grateful to the group of prurient male colleagues who had specified for us OLs underclothes which would shape our bodies in ways that men found pleasing! The matching earrings were simple but also in the shape of a discreet coil of rope. I was about to make up my face and do my hair more tartily than usual but then, afraid that I might overdo it, settled for the understated look I normally chose for my rare evenings out. Soon enough David was showing me in the best possible way how much I tempted him. I pulled myself out of his arms before he could do serious damage to my dress or make-up. "Where are we going?" I asked, to give him something else to think about. "I don't suppose they took you to Pontocho on your school trip to Kyoto, did they?" "I don't think so." "Well, that's where we're going." I knew of course that Pontocho was an old geisha quarter, allegedly a street of fabulously expensive traditional restaurants to which ordinary people with ordinary incomes, and above all non-Japanese, had no access. But I was surprised to find, as David paid off the taxi at the end of the Sanjo Bridge over the Kamo River, that at first sight the little street was like any other pedestrian area, full of bars and cheap, well-lit eating places. It was only as we joined the crowds and walked down the narrow lane that I began to feel its special, rather secretive quality. The big buildings like private houses between the ordinary establishments, discreetly lit and entered down narrow turnings, were I saw the places where the real business of Pontocho was done. As so often in Japan, the obvious was just camouflage. All at once I became aware of something happening at the far end of the narrow street. A little procession was approaching, and people walking towards us began to stop, turn and ask each other what it was. David knew, of course. "We _are_ in luck!" he said. "Look, it's a geisha going to an assignation." As the other pedestrians moved to the edges of the stone path to let her pass, I could now see the figure in elaborate robes, tall on her high decorated clogs, the pupils and servants accompanying her dressed in simple kimonos and carrying umbrellas, fans and other belongings, her own white-painted hands at her breast lifting the heavy brocade outer kimono off the street. Suddenly I remembered that I had my camera and quickly began taping, hoping that the machine was advanced enough to compensate for the poor light. There is something about Pontocho which absorbs sound, so even the excited murmurs of the Japanese and foreign tourists were subdued. Above them I heard, as the geisha advanced with small steps, something which took me straight back to childhood: the sound of wooden clogs on a stone path unspoilt by the roar of traffic. David had got ahead of me as I fell back to fiddle with my video camera. The geisha and her entourage were now drawing level with him, illuminated by the lanterns painted with the names of restaurants and by the firefly flicker of flashes from the tourists' cameras. As she reached him, David bowed respectfully: recognising, I knew, the traditional Japanese artist where ignorant foreigners think they see only a high-class prostitute. I looked up from the camera in time to catch her discreet acknowledgment of his tribute, her almond eyes in her impassive white make-up sliding sideways to glance at this strange foreign barbarian who knew better than most Japanese how to behave towards the possessor of secrets passed down through centuries of discipline and artistic achievement. Continuing her steady progress, the geisha was now almost upon me and I had to skip quickly to the side of the path. She paid me no attention. I did not belong to her tradition: in my provocative dress and high-heels my sexual allure was blatant and shallow compared to hers, which would reveal itself only over time to the connoisseur who had summoned her. In her eyes I was insignificant, just a sexy girl wanting her next fuck. I felt very humble. I said so to David as we sat over _sashimi_ and _tempura_ in a modern restaurant in a building between the narrow street and the river. "It makes me ashamed to know so little about my own country. You know so much more than I do, and when I saw that geisha - well, it was like going back in time. No, that's not what I mean really, it was like time coming to me, and making me feel that things don't just start with me." "Didn't they teach you anything at school about Japan - I mean history, traditional arts?" "No, not really. And of course I'm not clever. But that woman made me feel so inadequate, not even knowing how to do tea, or flowers. I've hardly ever worn a kimono even." "Well, you can learn, if you're interested," he said with a typically masculine - or do I mean typically Western? - practical response to feeling. "I'm sure you'd be very good at all that, you're so graceful, and a traditional Japanese beauty." I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that. It wasn't the sort of beauty I admired. My secret dream at the moment was to be like Demi Moore: tall, long-legged, self-assured, taking the lead in sexual contacts. But there were other things I wanted to say to him. "I never thought geishas were sexy," I continued, "but there was something special about her, wasn't there?" "Oh, yes. But there's something special about you too: young, beautiful, sexy, eager to learn how to be even sexier ..." I could feel his hand on me under the table, wandering slowly up my thigh, and his eyes had left my face and were now attracted by my breasts. I looked at him gratefully, and leant forward a little so that he could see more easily down the front of my low-cut dress. Perhaps it had been a mistake after all to wear a bra. "And there's one other thing you have which matters a lot to me. I'll tell you later what it is. Well, if you've finished, shall we go back to the hotel now?" I was so excited by his words, and by his touch on my thigh, that I could hardly speak. "Oh, yes ... please ..." I managed at last. == We were lying naked side by side on the big bed, arms tightly locked round each other, in a 69 position. Because he had requested it, I was again wearing my beautiful new boots: his strong fingers had tied me into them so tightly that the wonderful feeling of helpless bondage made me forget how strange it was to be wearing them while lying on a bed. David's head was between my legs, and he had urged me to clench my thighs tightly round him: "You're not the only one who likes to be a helpless prisoner!" he had said when I asked anxiously if he would not find it uncomfortable to have his face pressed so hard into my crotch. His tongue and lips were industriously kissing and sucking my cunt, which was gratefully dripping into his mouth. Another beautiful orgasm was on its way - for both of us; but there was no hurry. I had just worked out that the muffled cries into my cunt meant "Please don't let me come yet!" Occasionally he slid his tongue along my crack and probed gently into my anus. But the silly thing was too shy to accept his love and could only occasionally be tricked into opening up for him - just a little. The man (Bob Williams as I later discovered) who had taken my anal cherry in public only two weeks ago had been luckier. But of course I had been tied up and helpless then. Maybe that would help. David freed his head a little from the tight knot of my legs. "I think I could die like this," I heard him say before I could think of a way of suggesting what I had in mind. I took his cock out of my mouth long enough to ask, "Have you lived in Japan for long?" He snatched his face away from my arse. "What a _ridiculous_ question to ask a man at a moment like this!" he said indignantly. I giggled as best I could with my mouth full. "If you do things like that to me I'll come before I'm ready. But what did you mean by it?" Reluctantly I emptied my mouth again. "I only thought it was a very Japanese thing to say. But what did _you_ mean?" "When I saw you walking down the aisle of the train, showing me that delightful view of your bottom," he said, "I thought to myself, 'I can't imagine anything more wonderful than to get inside that girl's beautiful arse'. And now I know I was right. Once I've fucked this lovely little hole -" he paused for a moment to press the tip of his tongue against my anus "- I'll have had the best thing there is. There'll be nothing else to look forward to." His tongue flicked round my arsehole again; then he changed position and began to nibble my clitoris, very gently. In response I scratched his balls lightly with the tips of my fingernails. "But you _haven't_ fucked my arse yet," I pointed out, reasonably enough, "and when you have, surely you can look forward to fucking it again. And again, and again. I know that's what _I_ will want you to do. Why don't you start now?" "Oh, my darling, if you're ready, then so am I." Now was the moment to introduce the idea of bondage. I pulled away from him, jumped off the bed, and ran to where I had left my bag. I produced the ropes I had packed and brought them to him. "Tie me up first, please." He looked at me in surprise, taking the ropes from me uncertainly. "How do you want to be tied?" "Well, I expect you'd like to fuck my bottom from behind, doggy-fashion, wouldn't you? I know I'd like that best, the first time. So if I lie on my front like _this_ -" I showed him "- with my knees tucked up under me, nicely ready for you, and you tie my knees to my elbows, then I'll be wonderfully helpless and you'll be able to do just about anything you like to me." "Would you enjoy that?" "Well, wouldn't _you_?" He showed me soon enough that he would. When he had me tied up the way I wanted, I asked shyly, "Would ... would you like to put a gag in my mouth? There's a nice one in my bag over there. Then you'll be able to do anything you like to me and I won't be able to beg you to stop. Not that I'll want to anyway, of course, but it would be so exciting to know that I couldn't even if I did want to." He thought for a moment. "No," he said, "I think I'd prefer to hear you scream." "Are you going to make me scream?" "Oh, yes. A lot." I could feel my skin quivering at the prospect, and the juice wetting the petals of my cunt. But I said only, "Please don't hurt me." "There's not much you can do to stop me hurting you, is there?" I thought about that. It was thrilling and frightening at the same time. "_Is there_?" he asked again, severely. "No." "No what?" "No, Master." "That's better. So, what do you want me to do to you?" "Please do whatever you like to me. Master. Whatever you enjoy doing to girls will be wonderful for me too." "Good. Is there anything you _don't_ want me to do to you?" "No, of course not. I am your slave. But ..." "But what?" "Please don't forget to fuck my bottom." "I can promise you I won't forget to do that. In due course. But I shall do lots of other things to you first. You're not the only one who travels with little toys." He got up and went over to his own suitcase, returning with something black in his hand. He sat on the bed, holding it where I could see it clearly. It was long and had many lashes - a cat-o'-nine-tails, I suppose, though I had never seen one before and he gave me no chance to count them. "Are you going to whip me with that?" I asked anxiously. "Probably. If I feel like it." "Will I enjoy being whipped?" "_I'll_ enjoy whipping you." "I promise to be a good girl," I said anxiously. "Sweetheart, I know you'll be good, but I don't think you fully understand yet what is going to happen to you. Frankly whether you are good or bad has nothing to do with it. I shall simply whip you as much as I want. I won't be punishing you for something you did, a certain number of strokes for a certain amount of naughtiness. I'll be whipping you for the pleasure it will give me to torture you. The more innocent you are, the more I'll enjoy punishing you; and the more you beg me to stop hurting you, the harder I'll whip you. And there isn't a thing you can do to stop me. That's why I won't gag you. It will be so lovely to hear you screaming and begging for mercy, even though you know it's useless and know it only pleases me and makes me want to whip you more. Do you understand now?" I was speechless with horror and excitement. "Look," he said, "and listen." He shook the whip in front of my eyes, the many lashes tumbling and rustling. "For now I'll just put this little toy here on the pillow where you can see it, so you can think about what it will feel like - _when_ I start to use it. See how there are nine lashes? Think of all nine of them at once, kissing your beautiful round bottom. It's coming, darling, it's coming, I promise you. But not just yet. I'll give you plenty of time to imagine how it will feel. I like a girl to be really frightened when I begin. Then we both enjoy it more." He got off the bed, leaving me panting with excitement. I could feel my heart beating fast. In a few moments he was back, with another instrument in his hands. He held it in front of my eyes, flexing it to and fro. It seemed to be a long, narrow stick sheathed in black leather. "Of course the cat will only tickle you gently. Here's another little friend of sexy girls, but I promise you he's quite different." He raised it in one hand as I lifted my head and watched anxiously. Suddenly the stick slashed onto the pillow beside me. It seemed to hum through the air, and where it had struck the pillow there was now a deep, narrow mark. I looked at David beseechingly as the horrifying implications began to form in my mind. "Oh, _please_ darling ..." I meant of course "Please _don't_ do that to me ..." At least, I suppose that is what I meant. "I'll leave it here by the cat for you to think about. I won't use it yet. I want you to have lots of time to look forward to it. Can you imagine how it will feel, carving long thin lines of pure agony into your bottom? When it starts it will go on for a long, long time; and when it finishes you will have learnt to adore it, and to beg for it in future from every one of your lovers." By now my feeling of horror at what I had foolishly let myself in for in trusting this complete stranger was hopelessly mixed with excitement at the thrilling experiences he was promising me. "You know what's going to happen to you, don't you? I shall make something completely new out of you: when I have finished you will be helplessly addicted to the beauty of pain. After tonight, you will never be completely satisfied with a lover till you have persuaded him to bind you, whip you and cane you. What fun your lovers are going to have with you from now on! I feel almost jealous. But you will never forget that it was I who taught you. Shall I begin?" "Oh, _please_ ...!" I said again. This time we both of us knew I meant yes. "All right, but you must wait till I've finished with that tasty little cunt of yours. Our conversation has given me quite an appetite." He disappeared from my view and I felt the bed heave as he climbed up behind me. His hands gently stroked my arse and parted its cheeks. Then he was again licking and sucking my pussy, lapping up the juice which had accumulated there. After a while he moved into position to fuck me, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me onto him as he thrust forward. His lengthy stimulation of my cunt and clitoris, and the exciting and frightening thought of the whipping and caning to follow, had already brought me close to orgasm, and I was soon screaming, just as he had promised me, but with joy not with pain. He was able to delay his own climax slightly, but my own excited bouncing against his cock soon had him shooting spasm after spasm of cum into me. For a while he clung to me as I babbled my thanks and happiness; then he pulled out and lay panting beside me. I felt him reach for something on the bedside table. Then his hands were holding me again. The hand on my hip moved slowly towards my anus, and soon I felt my little hole being lubricated, as a finger pressed irresistibly against my sphincter muscles. It burst through with a rush, then moved firmly up into my intestines without seeking permission or hesitating for a moment. Once fully established, the finger wriggled around, pulled out and entered again, making me gasp with pleasure until the moment when his cock had regained its power and was ready to take over. The further layer of lubricating gel was cold and tickled me: then I felt the head of his cock demanding entrance. He was not as gentle with me as Bob had been: there were moments of pain to mingle with the joy; but I was reminded of a winter _rotenburo_ or outside bath, where the sharp bite of the snow-laden air blends with the heat of the water to produce one of the most piquant of experiences. At last we came gloriously together, and stayed together till his cock shrank and slipped easily out of my arse. A well-fucked and contented girl, I was dozing happily in my bonds when he suddenly woke me, dangling my gag in front of my face. "I think we will put this in now after all: we have to think about the other guests in the hotel," he said. Without considering the meaning of his words, I happily opened my mouth, and soon the short, fat plastic cock was being tied firmly into place. Too late, I realised what this might mean as the whip on the pillow was withdrawn from my view. "I think I will now tickle your pretty arse for an hour or so," he said, again shaking the rustling lashes in front of my eyes. "The exercise will do me good, and the sensation will excite you and make you eager to be fucked again." "Urgh-ghrr," was all I could reply. "If you want me to stop, all you have to do is ask me politely. But you can't, can you? Poor darling, you can't say anything gagged like that. Never mind, it wouldn't make any difference anyway." After tormenting me with deliberate false starts, he suddenly brought the cat down on my unprotected bottom. The pain was excruciating - yet somewhere in my mind a feeling was trying to assert itself, telling me this assault on my poor arse would bring me the most profound sexual satisfaction. Again and again the whip descended and the burning lashes wandered over my sensitive skin; more and more the pleasure took over, till my grunts of protest were replaced by cries of "Mm'mm, mm'mm, mm'mm!" which I could only hope was a code he understood. At last my endurance was rewarded by a shattering orgasm. He removed my gag, undid my ropes and took me in his loving arms. "Oh, David - that was so wonderful!" I said at last. "_Please_ do it to me again." "I told you you'd be addicted to it when I'd finished with you." "But you haven't finished, have you?" I asked anxiously. "You never used the cane at all." "That's the next lesson," he said. "I only wanted you to have the pleasure of looking forward to it." "Oh, but you _promised_!" I said imploringly. "Darling Kimiko, can you imagine how beautiful it will be for every one of your lovers from this moment on to hear you like that, wheedling and begging them to whip you?" "I was begging you to _cane_ me," I pointed out, still feeling cheated. "Well, if you won't, will you at least whip me some more?" "All right," he said briskly, "but no ropes this time. You'll submit of your own free will. On your knees." So I knelt on the bed, leaning forward and exposing my bottom and thighs to my lover's lash, wriggling ecstatically under its caress. I don't think I screamed much. I just begged him to hurt me more, more, with all his strength; and rewarded him with long sobs of the purest joy. A while later I awoke from a happy dream. I slipped off the bed, unlaced my boots and went to the hotel's luxurious bathroom. There I washed myself clean and spent an enjoyable few minutes finding out all the nice things the bidet could do to a girl's cunt. When I returned, he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Kimiko, come over here," he said. There was a sternness in his voice I had not noticed before. "Are you going to cane me now?" I asked hopefully, as I obediently sat down beside him. "Kimiko, listen. You are a lovely, enchanting girl, but you must never, never, do that again." "What mustn't I do?" I was horrified. Had I not pleased him? "You must never ask a strange man to tie you up for sex when there's no one around to protect you." "But I love it! And I thought you liked it too!" Tears of sadness, and anger, began to flow. "Why do you like it so much?" "Because then there is no shame." "You mean, if you are forced to do the things you want to do anyway, you can enjoy them without bothering whether it's allowed?" I nodded. He _had_ been in Japan a long time. I had thought so. "But it's dangerous. You mustn't do it with strangers. I tried to frighten you, and hurt you, just to show you what might happen." "Yes, you did. And it was terribly wonderful. Didn't you realise?" "And I did hurt you a bit." "You hurt me a _lot_. And surely you saw how I loved that too. I loved everything you did to me. Because it was you." I burst again into tears of frustration. "You don't understand after all! You don't love me! You're just waiting to throw me away and get back to your ugly Western wife and your spoilt Western children!" I knew it wasn't true, but I had to say it. He took me in his strong arms. "Darling, I adore you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. My life changed the moment I saw you on the train. Surely you know that." I sniffed and stopped crying. "I suppose so." "And it's because I love you so much that I want to protect you. If you keep on asking strange men to tie you up for sex, one day you'll meet someone who is even weirder than you are. And then he'll do things to you that you won't enjoy at all. He'll beat you, knock you about, take a knife to you, maybe even kill you." "But if I ask him not to hurt me ..." "For some men, that would be a challenge to hurt you terribly while you were at their mercy." "I see." I thought for a moment. "But don't _you_ like whipping girls?" "Yes, very much. But only when I'm sure _they_ like _being_ whipped. That's different." "_I_ like being whipped. Couldn't you tell?" "Of course I could." "Only because you taught me how to like it." "And I loved teaching you. You'll never forget what I taught you, will you?" "Of course not. I'll be grateful to you all my life." "But you will be careful, won't you?" he said anxiously. "I love you so much, and want to go on fucking you - and whipping you - for ever and ever." "Where do you want to fuck me next?" "How about in your mouth?" Before speech became impossible, I said, "By the way, _are_ you married to an ugly Western wife?" "No." "Or to anyone else?" "No." "Do you specially like the way I do it with my mouth?" "Well, it stops you asking silly questions." "I hate you! ... Will you lick my arsehole for me while I suck you?" "Now, that's _not_ a silly question. Yes. Turn round so I can get at you." "Will you tie me up again later, and whip me some more?" "Yes, of course. Later." "I'd enjoy that." For a few moments we both had better things to do than talk. "Does this feel nice?" "Mm'mm, mm'mm, mm'mm!" My shy arsehole opened to admit the tip of his tongue, and then a finger which lovingly tickled and wriggled inside me, preparing me I guessed for a later invasion by his greedy cock. I longed for that; but I had other plans for it just now. Soon his creamy cum was filling my mouth again, as I eagerly swallowed, and then sucked on him, trying to get the last drop from his balls before his cock shrank, and left me. I wriggled round on the bed so we could lie face to face again. "Tie me up?" I suggested hopefully. "Whip me?" "Oh, you insatiable little slut! All right, but this time it will have to be something very special." "With the cane?" "Wait and see." [Next in Part 10: Chapter X: The Stranger] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams