Learning_About_Myself.04

THE MEGUMI STORIES 06/04
BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS

VOLUME 06: LEARNING ABOUT MYSELF
BY SAYAKA ONODERA AND BOB WILLIAMS

FINAL REVISED EDITION

Part 04

CHAPTER IV

My First Public Performance

We began by showering together. But as Reina's soapy 
fingers slithered over my breasts and bottom and 
caressed my crotch with maddening stimulation, I knew 
there were other things I wanted to ask.

"Bob was so good to me last night," I said, approaching 
the subject obliquely.

"Yes, he does that sort of thing very nicely," she 
said. "Especially when he's whipping beginners like 
you. He's become quite an expert in training young 
girls."

I remembered that she had said something of the sort 
the previous evening.

"A lot of rising young stars in our industry were 
introduced to sophisticated sex by Bob Williams," she 
went on. "And masses of young women who didn't want to 
become professionals but somehow felt their sensuality 
needed to be properly developed by a master. I don't 
know what happens to them later, and nor does he. They 
may be married, or they may be having lovely sex with 
lots of lovers."

"How has he become so well-known? I mean, a _gaijin_ 
..."

"Yes, it is strange. But somehow he understands ... he 
knows more about Japanese girls' sexuality than most 
Japanese men. Or maybe it's that Japanese men don't 
care about the girls they use the way he does. You saw 
how much he cares. When he whipped you."

I nodded happily, remembering.

"You must whip a girl with _love_, he always says. She 
must feel the love flowing to her along the lashes, 
mingling with the beautiful pain which the love 
gradually converts into ecstasy."

"Pain?" I asked, puzzled.

"Didn't you feel pain to start with? In the first few 
strokes at least?"

"Oh, no - it was lovely right from the start ... the 
most beautiful feeling I'd ever had. Like being 
stroked, so tenderly."

"Ah, you're lucky. Most girls have to pass through a 
pain threshold when they're whipped. A moment when the 
pain turns suddenly to pleasure. You feel it as 
pleasure from the very start?" I nodded eagerly. "But 
then - maybe you're missing something by not 
discovering the pleasure of pure pain. Perhaps ..."

"Perhaps?"

"I was just thinking - perhaps one day we can find 
someone to whip you so as to give you extreme pain and 
nothing else. It's a very sophisticated sensation. 
Another kind of love. It can lead to a very remarkable 
climax. One day ... Now, we must get out of here and 
dress."

After we had dried each other we went into the larger 
sleeping area - usually my mother's, now temporarily 
Reina's. She produced a carrier bag and pulled out a 
pair of fishnet stockings in a very pale brown shade.

"Put these on."

I did so. The stockings had elasticated tops and stayed 
up without difficulty.

"Now this."

She handed me a tiny triangle of cloth in a matching 
pale brown which just fitted over my hairless crotch. A 
narrow string passed between my legs, then divided and 
joined an almost invisible horizontal band which tied 
in a bow on each hip. Reina helped me tie the bows 
securely, and neatly so that the loops and strings 
dangled evenly on each side. Then she gave me a 
matching top: another two tiny triangles secured by 
bows behind my neck and round my back. I adjusted the 
little triangles and admired the effect in the mirror. 
The upper scraps of cloth just covered the aureoles of 
my breasts, and the outlines of my hard, erect nipples 
were clearly visible as they pushed jauntily forward as 
those of the girl in the photograph had done. The pale 
brown colour was only slightly darker than my skin 
tone. I almost looked as if I was wearing nothing at 
all. Almost ...

"Do I look all right?" I asked anxiously.

"You look delightful. I'm jealous already."

Reina was already dressed in a matching outfit, except 
that hers was a deep pink. I was sure no man would want 
me when he could have her! Never mind, I thought: there 
may be enough men there for us both. Enough _cocks_, I 
thought boldly.

"The same shoes as you wore last night," said Reina 
briskly. "I've brought a matching pair from the studio 
for myself."

By now we were in the entrance-hall, preparing to 
leave.

"And a coat over the top, of course - we can't really 
travel on the subway like this, can we?"

"Wouldn't it be fun if we did!" I said naughtily.

Really, I was becoming quite free and outspoken in 
talking, and thinking, about sex!

"Yes," said Reina with a giggle, "we must try it some 
time. Though I don't think we'd ever get to where we 
were going!"

Oh, I _do_ love Reina, I thought to myself. Most of the 
time she is a polished elder sister, knowing so much 
more than I do about the most refined pleasures of sex 
and where to find them, and willing to spend time 
teaching poor little me. And I admire her so much for 
that. But then she can suddenly become a young girl 
again like me, giggling at the delights in store for us 
and bubbling over with silly schoolgirl thoughts just 
like I do. I hope so much that when I grow up I shall 
be exactly like her - beautiful, sexy, sophisticated, 
but kind and helpful to younger girls.

We stepped into the street. Reina locked the door 
carefully and stowed the key in her coat pocket. We 
were neither of us carrying purses.

"Right. Ready?" she asked.

"Ready for anything!"

==

The club, or bar, Reina had chosen was in the basement 
of a tall building near Meguro Station. There were so 
many establishments with brightly lit signs displayed 
at street level that I could never have found it for 
myself. The man guarding the door recognised Reina and 
admitted her at once. He looked enquiringly at me but 
Reina soon explained that she would be responsible for 
me. We left our coats at a tiny cloakroom and walked 
into the main area, I balancing carefully on my tight 
silver shoes and tingling all over, extremely conscious 
of my near nudity. Reina, of course, looked supremely 
self-confident and wonderfully beautiful.

Loud, fast music was playing. There seemed to be a lot 
of people there but it was difficult to tell because 
the lighting consisted of a number of bright spots and 
most of them were concentrated on some girls who were 
dancing vigorously to the music. As my eyes became 
accustomed to the contrasting scene I saw that there 
were five round platforms in the centre of the room, 
raised a metre or so above the floor level and arranged 
in a pattern like the pips on a five in a deck of 
cards. Three were occupied by dancing girls, one in the 
centre and one to each side. Reina took me by the hand 
so that I should not get separated from her in the 
crowd, and guided me to the middle of the room.

The girl dancing on the little platform there was 
wearing a dark blue microbikini, silver high-heels and 
matching blue fishnet stockings. She looked very like 
the girl in the leaflet I had seen. Her slim, lithe 
body gleamed in the spotlights and she was running her 
hands lasciviously over herself. From where I was 
standing I had a clear view of her gyrating crotch and 
could see that the tiny lower triangle of her bikini 
was cut so low that her neat V of pubic hair was fully 
exposed: the cloth only just covered her pussy. Her 
eyes were half-closed and her expression showed a 
strange mixture of emotions: partly withdrawn into a 
masturbatory dream of her own, partly looking at her 
audience with a teasing challenge. The effect was very 
beautiful, and looking briefly at her audience - mostly 
men, but some girls - I could see that they were 
transfixed by her sexy beauty. My own hands began to 
stroke my stomach and then, through the tiny triangles 
of my bra, my breasts. It was as if my hands had a will 
of their own as they pleasured me. I couldn't help 
moaning slightly. They seemed to be everywhere; it took 
me a while before I realised that other hands were 
joining in! While I was stroking my breasts and tummy, 
others were caressing my bottom and reaching between my 
legs. Oh, that was so nice! And so kind of these 
strangers to take care of me, I thought. I moved my 
feet apart to make it easier for those pleasuring me to 
stroke me where they wanted - where _I_ wanted. I was 
closely hemmed in now by the people around me and could 
not have told who in the crowd was doing these pretty 
things to me, or moved away from the questing hands 
even if I had wanted to.

"Are _you_ going to dance for us, sweetheart?" a man's 
voice whispered in my ear.

"Of _course_!" I murmured, not taking my eyes off the 
lovely girl on the platform. "That's what I'm here 
for!" Then, feeling suddenly ashamed of my lack of 
modesty, I added: "If you want me to, that is ..."

Suddenly the girl reached out her right hand and as if 
by magic a plastic bottle was placed in it. She poured 
a dollop of thick, transparent oily liquid into the 
palm of her left hand and began to rub it over her 
body, not caring if it got onto her bikini or dripped 
onto the floor. Then she pushed her tiny bikini top 
upwards so that her breasts were fully revealed, leant 
back and poured more liquid over them. Leaning forward 
again, she gathered the minute scrap of cloth barely 
hiding her pussy in one hand, pulled it forward out of 
the way and poured the remainder of the liquid over her 
crotch. The audience applauded, and she held out the 
bottle to no one in particular: it disappeared at once.

She was now dancing with total abandon, rubbing the 
pools of thick oil all over her body but especially 
over her breasts - she did not bother to rearrange her 
bra and they were fully exposed in all their firm, 
erect beauty - her pussy and her naked bottom. She 
leant back again and swung her long hair, matted with 
oil, from side to side. I wanted so much to do what she 
was doing!

After another few minutes the music came to a climax, 
stopped, and then began again at a slower pace and 
quieter volume. The girl finished her dance, bowed 
exhaustedly to her audience and stepped down at the 
back of her little platform. In the darkness outside 
the pool of light I could just see her being helped 
down and conducted away. Surely now it was my turn!

I pressed forward to the platform and prepared to step 
up before any other girl could take possession of it. 
There were cheers and scattered applause. The hands 
which had been caressing me took me by the elbows and 
the waist and helped me up. I turned to face my 
audience, smiled shyly and tried a few tentative dance 
steps. Someone passed me a bottle of oil. As I tilted 
it, the translucent contents ejaculated onto my skin in 
big dollops: it was as if giant cocks were coming all 
over me. For a tiny fraction of a second a favourite 
masturbation fantasy - of being captured by 
extraterrestrials who drenched me in delicious cum from 
their multiple penis-tentacles - flashed through my 
mind.[11] I began to smear the oil lovingly over my 
body, playing with it as I would with real cum. It was 
lightly scented and felt cool and fresh; it was nice 
stroking myself, my hands now gliding easily wherever I 
wanted them to go. The music began to play louder and 
faster.

In a way it had been nicer still when other hands had 
been able to join in stroking me, but the extra 
sensation my own hands could give me as they slithered 
over the oil soon made up for that. Remembering what 
the earlier girl had done, I stroked and squeezed my 
breasts through my bikini top, then slid my fingers 
under it so they could arouse them even more intimately 
and tease my nipples yet harder. Then I did the same to 
my crotch, pulling the little triangle into a narrow 
band of cloth and pushing it from one side to the other 
as I stroked my hairless pussy, and teased my clitoris 
into complete erection. I was vaguely aware of my 
audience cheering and clapping as I responded ever more 
vigorously to the loud rhythm of the music. Like the 
other girl, I pushed my bra upwards till it covered 
nothing and pulled the cloth over my pussy to one side 
so that my glistening cunt was fully exposed.

I suddenly realised that someone was holding something 
out to me. It was time to coat myself in more oil: 
obviously that was part of the standard routine. I 
accepted the bottle, poured great blobs of oil over my 
breasts, my stomach, my crotch, and - very daring - 
reached behind and emptied the bottle over my bottom so 
that the oil poured, tickling maddeningly, down the 
crack in my arse as I turned away from my audience and 
held my buttocks apart so that they could clearly see 
my anus.

I danced harder and harder, tossing my hair from side 
to side. I tried to match the other girl's challenging 
look, but it didn't work. Instead of "touch me if you 
dare!" my eyes were saying, "please touch me ... please 
stroke me ... oh, please, _please_ fuck me!" My hands 
reached my breasts again. My bra, so disarranged as to 
cover nothing, was irritating me. I quickly reached 
behind and undid the bow at my back - not teasingly or 
lasciviously, but just removing something which had 
served its purpose. Now it hung loosely from my neck, 
where it was even more in the way. I undid the other 
bow, pulled the little thing away from me and dropped 
it. My breasts were free now and I stroked them 
happily. Then my hands were lower again, stroking my 
bottom, my fingers sliding easily into my anus and out 
again, pushing the oil as far up my arsehole as I could 
... then I was doing the same to my cunt, the oil 
diluting the love-juice which was now pouring from 
somewhere deep inside me.

As I swung my hips a memory from the night before 
overwhelmed me. How truly wonderful it would be, I 
suddenly thought, if I could dance like this while at 
the same time Bob was standing behind me whipping me, 
the slender black lashes teasing and decorating my 
bottom and thighs, driving me to ecstasy! Even the 
thought was having a profound effect on me, taking me 
close to climax. That wouldn't do! Of course I wanted 
it, but I still had a duty to my audience: they wanted 
to see me dance, not give way to my own orgasmic 
pleasure ... maybe that would come later. The thought 
prompted an even stronger memory from last night: the 
lovely girl at the bar we had visited who had danced 
and stripped till she was completely nude, then gone 
off still nude ... oh yes, _still nude_ ... with her 
lover - my ideal, the girl I could have been, _would_ 
be, was now: yes, _now_, why not?

My hands moved from my crotch to my hips and pulled the 
bows apart. This time I made all I could of removing my 
last scrap of clothing, waving it in the air before 
tossing it into the audience. At last I was fully nude 
for them, inspiring their admiration, their desire, 
their lust as I had always longed to do ... well, had 
longed since last night but it felt like for ever. And 
I knew too - deeply, truly knew - that their lust was 
my lust. It wasn't only that displaying myself nude 
pleased and stimulated me. The lust I was creating in 
my audience rose from them like a cloud, enveloping me, 
driving me to ecstasy like a drug. A drug to which I 
was addicted now and always would be. Our _mutual_ 
lust. Shimmering like a golden haze and bringing us 
ever closer to the beauty of total sexual union.

I continued dancing and stroking myself till suddenly 
the music ended and my turn on the little platform was 
over. I bowed, and prepared to step down - forwards off 
the platform, not turning away to disappear discreetly 
as the other girl had done. Hands and arms reached out 
to help me, to support me, to bear me tenderly and 
lovingly I knew not where.

Of course they bore me to orgasm after orgasm - better 
than I had ever achieved by my own masturbation, better 
even than Bob had granted me with his whip and cock the 
evening before. I have no idea how long it lasted 
before I became aware of the real world again, and 
found myself lying on a black plastic sheet stretched 
over a mattress. I lightly explored my naked body. It 
was still coated with oil, though the scent was now 
blended with another stronger aroma which I surely 
recognised. I sniffed again delicately. Yes, it was the 
familiar and welcome smell of male cum. How much had 
been ejaculated over and into me while I was floating 
in heaven? Plenty, I thought; but not enough. It could 
never be enough.

I was aware of voices. I focused my eyes and looked 
from side to side. Reina, still wearing nothing but her 
microbikini, was sitting in a chair, her legs elegantly 
crossed. Facing her was a man in black slacks and a 
black roll-neck pullover.

"She's very good," he was saying. "I give you that. I'd 
be delighted to have her perform here every night. But 
..."

"But?"

"You know why not. I can have strippers here. Full 
nudity, that's no problem. Discreet meetings in 
private, okay. But unlimited public sex with customers 
like she does ... I could get away with it a few 
nights. The customers would love it, of course."

"And so would she," said Reina.

"And so would she. So would any girl worth employing. 
But word would soon get around, and then the police 
would take an interest in what I was doing to attract 
all the extra custom. Or if they didn't my competitors 
would tell them. And then ..."

"H'm. Pity," said Reina. "What a waste of talent!"

"Yes. But I didn't say she couldn't perform anywhere. 
In fact, I already have ideas to put to you if you want 
them ... private contacts ..."

"I think I can guess the kind of thing."

"Well, thank you for bringing her here. Keep in touch."

"I will."

I heard the man go, and then Reina was looking down at 
me.

"How are you feeling, Saa-chan?"

"Wonderful. More wonderful than I've ever felt before."

"I thought so. I was watching you. I was getting quite 
jealous! But now it's time to go home. Here." She 
helped me to my feet. "There's a shower in there. Go 
and clean up, then we'll be off."

"Oh ..." I said, suddenly conscience-stricken. "But 
I've lost the bikini you lent me ... I'm so sorry."

"Don't be silly! It doesn't matter. Studios buy things 
like that in bulk. Of course they're constantly being 
lost, or taken as souvenirs."

Twenty minutes later, wearing nothing but my fishnet 
stockings under my school overcoat, I was on my way 
home with Reina on the subway.

"Did you have fun too, Reina?" I asked shyly.

"Not as much as you did! You were the centre of 
attention."

"I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry. You can make it up to me in bed. Again."

"Of course I will!" I giggled as a naughty thought 
struck me. "It feels so nice wearing nothing under my 
coat. Can I always go out like this?"

"I don't see why not!" she said, catching my 
little-girl mood again.

"There aren't many people in this carriage. May I, you 
know, open my coat - take it off?"

"Not tonight. I'll arrange for you to do some public 
nudity one day soon."

"Ooh!"

"Well, I can see you're longing to do it, and it's part 
of your training anyway."

"Is it? Training for what?" I asked coquettishly.

"Your training as a sex-star, of course! What else do 
you think we're doing together?"


FOOTNOTE

[11] This is the commonest of masturbation fantasies 
among Japanese girls. The girl dreams that she is 
kidnapped from her bed by extraterrestrial monsters who 
take her, a willing victim, to their spacecraft and 
subject her to endless sexual experimentation. The 
monsters all have multiple tentacles which both 
stimulate her and cover her in slimy alien cum. 
Numerous _manga_ stories and _hentai_ videos are 
produced to feed and encourage this fantasy. In fact 
the fantasy is very old: there are charming _netsuke_ 
carvings from the 17th and 18th centuries, for example, 
which show a girl being pleasured by an octopus. It is 
lovely to see modern pornography responding to and 
developing Japanese girls' collective sexual 
imagination! - B W


[Next in Part 05: Chapter V: Sunday in the Park with 
Reina]


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