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