I AM NOT ASHAMED 11

THE MEGUMI STORIES
BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS

VOLUME 03: I AM NOT ASHAMED
BY KIMIKO KOBAYASHI AND MEGUMI KATO

CHAPTER XI

New Experiences

I suppose I must have fainted in my ecstasy. The next 
thing I knew it was early morning, and David was 
sleeping beside me. I was free of my bonds and 
blindfold, and snuggled lazily up against him, 
conscious of a great wave of well-being flooding 
through my happy, well-whipped and well-fucked body. 
It was the same peace and harmony I had felt the 
morning after Megumi's wedding: the same my sister 
Fumiko had urged me to seek, and this time it was not 
spoilt by prudish shame at my actions. Dreams of 
extraordinary glory began to come back to me. The 
white-hot lines incised into me had faded to a dull 
red warmth. Even wriggling against the light sheet 
over my bottom was creating a hot feeling of pleasure 
where the whip and cane had delighted it. My hand slid 
down and began to stroke my arse. Then it moved over 
to stimulate my lover's cock into an erection. 

"How's my lovely girl this morning?" he asked 
sleepily, petting my hair and shoulders. 

"In heaven." 

"And how would you like to begin the day?" 

I thought for a moment, trying to decide what to ask 
for first. 

"Will you fuck my bottom again? Please?" 

"Of course. Just as soon as you've made me ready 
again." 

I propped myself up on my elbows. 

"Excuse me a minute," I said, "I have to go to the 
bathroom first." 

His arm tightened round my waist. 

"To do what?" 

"Well ... you know ..." 

"What?" 

"You _are_ funny," I said, blushing and looking away 
from him. "I have to ... you know ... pee." 

He held me even tighter. 

"Let me go! I'm serious. I need to go." 

"Did you really like all the things that happened to 
you last night?" 

"Oh, _yes_!" I said. 

"Will you do something to me that _I_ really like?" 

"Yes, of course! Just as soon as I come back. 
Honestly, I won't be long. Then I'll do whatever you 
want." 

"You know I told you I'm fascinated by Japanese 
girls' bottoms?" 

"Yes, but please let me go! It's urgent!" 

He paid no attention to my struggles, but held me as 
tightly as ever. 

"It's not just because I love fucking girls' arses, 
and whipping them. There's something else I enjoy too. 
Please piss in my mouth." 

In my astonishment, I stopped struggling. 

"_What_?" 

"Please piss in my mouth," he said again. 

"But you _can't_ want me to do that!" 

"Why not? I just asked you to. Just sit over my face 
and let it come." 

He was beginning to pull me into the position he 
wanted, and in my surprise I was letting him do it. I 
began to struggle again. 

"I'm too ashamed!" I said, my crotch already over his 
chest as he began to slide down the bed between my 
thighs. 

"What are you ashamed of?" 

I couldn't answer that. It just felt strange. I knew I 
would now have to do what he wanted: my need was too 
urgent, and even if I could break free I doubted if I 
could make it to the bathroom in time. The odd thing 
was that I wasn't embarrassed at the extraordinary, 
perverted thing I was about to do to a man: what I was 
ashamed of was the thought of doing it in bed. Suppose 
I made a mess? Suddenly I remembered vividly being 
spanked by my mother when I had made little mistakes 
as a child. My muscles had been well trained to avoid 
such disasters at all costs. But now, as I faced the 
headboard of the bed, squatting over his face, I could 
feel his wide-open lips clamped against my slit, and 
his hands expertly squeezing my waist and lower 
stomach, making it impossible to hold out any longer. 
With a sob I suddenly let go. The relief to my aching 
bladder was tremendous, and I could feel, transmitted 
up through his lips, the gulping of his throat muscles 
as he strove to keep up with the hot stream pouring 
into his mouth. 

At last it was over. I leant gasping against the wall 
as his tongue investigated my tiny pee-hole in search 
of any last drops, before giving a few strokes to my 
clitoris and my pussy in case they should feel 
neglected. Soon we were in each other's arms again. 

"Was that nice?" he asked. 

"Well, yes, I needed to go badly," I said, "but did 
you really enjoy it?" 

"Oh, _yes_, it was lovely! You taste delicious. 
Somehow I knew you would: a girl whose cunt tastes 
good always makes lovely piss too. It was hot and 
salty, and yet fresh and young-tasting as well - with 
just a touch of sex to add flavour. But I think that 
was because your pussy was dripping into my mouth 
too." 

"Did I ... was there any mess?" I asked shyly. 

"No, no - I didn't lose a drop." 

There was a little silence. I avoided his kiss: I 
somehow didn't want to know what it had tasted like. 

"Promise me something," he said. "While we're 
together, whenever you want to piss, just tell me and 
let me have it. Don't waste it. It's one of the ways I 
can love you." 

I didn't know what to make of this. 

"David, how did you discover you liked it so much?" 

"Liked what?" 

I giggled. I knew he enjoyed making me talk freely 
about sex. 

"Having girls pee in your mouth, of course, silly! I 
mean, it's not the sort of thing you just think of and 
ask for - or is it?" 

"Well," he said, "it was chance, really. I was making 
love to a young schoolgirl once - I'd met her through 
an _enjo kosai_ advertisement. You know about that 
system?" 

I nodded. I knew about "assisted dating", a sort of 
introduction service for schoolgirls and young Office 
Ladies enjoying the pleasures of casual prostitution. 
It was what I was doing now, in a way, though I hoped 
he hadn't realised. 

"She said she was just fourteen and a beginner, but 
_enjo kosai_ schoolgirls usually say that - they know 
it pleases their clients. Maybe she was: she'd never 
had her pussy sucked before ... at least not the way I 
do it ... and she was squealing and wriggling with 
pleasure. I suddenly found I was getting spurts of the 
most delicious liquid in my mouth mixed with her 
pussy-juice. So fresh, and young ... oh, it was 
enchanting. At first I thought she just had an 
unusually tasty cunt, but then I worked out that in 
her excitement she couldn't quite control her bladder. 
That's when I found out." 

"I need a shower," I said, pulling away from him. 

He came into the bathroom with me. To my delight he 
brought the video-camera, setting it up on the shelf 
over the basin so that it could record us happily 
giggling and laughing as we soaped each other under 
the spray. But something was niggling away at me. At 
last I said: 

"Was it really so nice, what I did to you? Just now, I 
mean?" 

"Oh, yes!" he said. "Are you ready to do it again?" 

"No ... no," I replied, embarrassed. Then suddenly I 
made my mind up. "Do you think I would enjoy it if you 
... if you did it to me?" 

"Oh, my darling! Would you really like to try?" 

I hesitated. It sounded bad - but then I had several 
times sucked the creamy cum from his cock, and that 
had been lovely. I was worried that I wouldn't be able 
to keep up with his rapid flow. But here in the shower 
there could be no mess. 

"Yes," I said firmly, "I would." 

He quickly turned the shower taps off, then made me 
kneel before him on the tiled floor, my wet body bent 
back as if in supplication. He leant over me, one hand 
supporting his weight against the wall behind me, the 
other directing his flaccid cock. Suddenly a warm, 
golden stream began to tickle my breasts. I had 
somehow not expected the warmth, and the stimulation 
was very arousing. Knowing that the flow could not 
last long, I opened my mouth imploringly. The stream 
quickly travelled up my chest, spattered off my chin 
and finally entered me. I gulped the warm, salty 
liquid down eagerly, then closed my eyes as it moved 
up to baptise my forehead, and cease. After a long 
pause I opened my eyes again. 

"Oh, that was lovely!" I said. "You were right. You 
_will_ do it to me again, won't you?" 

"Whenever you like," he said as he helped me to my 
feet. The shower was running again now and his gentle 
hands rinsed me clean. Then he patted my body dry with 
the hotel's big, fluffy bath-towel, and carried me 
back to the bed. 

"How did you manage to swallow it all, without 
spilling any?" I asked. 

"Oh, it takes practice," he said. "You should try in 
the bathroom, where it doesn't matter what you spill. 
Use some container with a narrow spout - like a 
coffee-pot, for example - and fill it with water. Then 
hold it as high above your head as you can, and 
practice pouring the water into your mouth. You have 
to learn the trick of swallowing as you pour. If you 
stop swallowing and let your mouth fill up, it doesn't 
work." 

"Yes," I said thoughtfully. "I'd like to be able to do 
that, now that I know. Do all men enjoy having girls 
do it to them?" 

"Well," he said, making gentle fun of my enthusiasm, 
"it's as well to ask first." 

I opened the big curtains and we stood together for a 
while, enjoying the fresh autumn morning. I remembered 
something, and broke away from him for a moment to put 
on my black high-heeled shoes. It was nice to show 
myself to him dressed like that, teetering sexily on 
the narrow points - and to anyone else who was 
watching, of course. 

"Before you fuck me again," I said suddenly, "will you 
whip me a bit? I think I'd really like that." 

"Of course!" he said. "There's no better way to start 
the day! Where are your ropes?" 

I suddenly realised that I didn't need them any more. 
Not this time, anyway. It would be my delight to 
accept the punishment at his hands willingly, with no 
hint of being forced to do it. I turned towards the 
window, and stood with my legs braced and apart, my 
hands behind my head to keep them from trying to 
protect my body. 

"Oh, darling," I said, "just do it to me. As hard as 
you like. I won't run away!" 

For a moment or two he stood behind me, fondling my 
breasts and gently kissing my neck as he told me how 
much he loved me. Then he began. The nine burning 
lashes whistled down on me, curling round my hips and 
sometimes seeking out the most delicate places between 
my open legs as I willed myself to stand and take it. 
At first it hurt so much that I shuddered at the 
dreadful pain, wondering in a panic if since last 
night I had lost the trick of loving it, of gradually 
transmuting the agony into ecstasy. But then suddenly 
it came right for me again, and I was gasping and 
wriggling with joy, unable to decide whether I was 
loving the pain for its own sake or for the pleasure 
it could create, begging him to whip me harder and 
harder ... For a while, at my suggestion, he stood 
before me and lashed furiously at my sensitive, 
yearning breasts, but we both knew my true delight was 
in the endless torture of my plump bottom. 

At last he threw the cat aside and carried me, almost 
fainting with happiness, to the bed. His gentle hands 
stroked my scarlet, burning arse, lightly soothing my 
skin with lotion provided by the hotel: as the glow 
faded I could feel him proposing a new joy, his 
lubricated fingers teasing my arsehole, pushing aside 
my involuntary resistance, retreating again. 

"Please, darling - oh, please, yes!" I whispered. 

At last I felt myself being arranged in position, my 
knees again tucked up under my tummy, my well-oiled 
arse - soothed by his massage but still warm and 
luxurious from the memory of his whip - presented for 
his pleasure. Once more I felt the irresistible 
onslaught of his velvet, hard cock as it breached my 
pointless defences and began its slow, unstoppable 
advance up my narrow, welcoming passage. There was no 
pain this time: just a glorious feeling of fullness, 
of fulfilment, as my body did what it was designed by 
nature to do. At last the hot bursts of cum spurted 
into me beyond the point even his cock could reach, 
and we lay together for long minutes in complete 
contentment. 

I was vaguely aware that he had left me to go to the 
bathroom and do those mysterious things men do to get 
ready for the day. I went on lying sprawled in the big 
bed, my body luxuriating in the after-glow of all the 
pleasure that had been forced upon it. In my mind I 
experienced again the exquisite tightness of his cock 
firmly lodged in the thin, narrow sleeve of my 
arsehole. If it was good for me, how wonderful it must 
be for him to be held so firmly! It must feel ... oh, 
like those lovely new boots he had bought me, when 
they were laced up so tightly over my feet and calves 
by the pretty girl at the department store. For a 
moment I thought about her, kneeling before me tugging 
at the laces, and the secret little smile she had 
given me, as if to say, "Men don't understand these 
things, but we girls know what's nice, don't we?" I 
wondered idly about her sex-life: did she enjoy going 
to parties and being tied up, or was she lucky enough 
to have a man of her own who understood her needs? 

That reminded me once again of dear Megumi's wedding - 
not just of my own incredible, life-changing 
experiences but of the way she had looked as she set 
off with her handsome husband. At the time I had 
thought the provocative clothes she had worn were just 
Megumi indulging her taste for the outrageous, but I 
knew better now. In my mind I looked again at the 
tight, shiny black gloves and boots, following the 
gold laces cris-crossing firmly from wrist to armpit, 
from ankle to crotch. How wonderfully tight they must 
have felt, the thin, flexible material moulding itself 
to her soft flesh! I wanted clothes like that. I had 
no idea where to get them - they were surely too 
unconventional for a respectable department store - 
but find them I would. Shizue and Tomoko would tell me 
where to look. My lovers - and I now intended to have 
_lots_ of lovers - would surely enjoy having me 
dressed like that, and held so tightly I would know 
something myself of the pleasure they felt as they 
penetrated me. 

Returning to the start of this train of thought, I 
recalled David shouting with joy as my narrow, 
inexperienced arse squeezed his entering cock; and 
that brought back the sensation of his big hands 
encircling my little waist, pinching it cruelly as he 
held me firmly in position to receive the thrusts of 
his cock. That too was a sensation I wanted to enjoy 
again. Suppose that, as well as the tight gloves and 
boots, I wore a belt, or ... yes, a corset, not one of 
those old-fashioned heavy things but of the same thin, 
glistening material as my gloves and boots, laced as 
tight as I could bear it - no, tighter than that of 
course - much, _much_ tighter than I could _possibly_ 
bear - only my breasts and arse uncovered for my 
lovers' hands and cocks and whips to pleasure ... My 
body thrilled at the thought of being presented like 
that; my heart beat fast, I found myself already 
taking the quick, shallow breaths which would be all 
the cruel corset would allow, unable for lack of 
breath to scream or even to beg for more, able only to 
pray that my lovers would understand my urgent need 
for the exquisite agony to last for ever ... Oh, hurt 
me my darling, hurt me, hurt me with all your 
strength! 


[Next in Part 12: Chapter XII: The Next Day] 

For complete series so far see 
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