Learning_About_Myself.20 THE MEGUMI STORIES 06/20 BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 06: LEARNING ABOUT MYSELF BY SAYAKA ONODERA AND BOB WILLIAMS FINAL REVISED EDITION Part 20 CHAPTER XX My Birthday Treat The success of our performance at Roido-san's party was noted, and talked about among those with an interest in groups like ours and the resources to indulge it. But all too soon the autumn term began, and it was no longer possible for the Chain Gang to be out late at night enjoying itself and giving sophisticated pleasure to others. All of us found our sexual activities sadly curtailed, although I at least was able to service clients of the dating agency in the brief hour or so between school and returning home. I had forgotten quite how frustrating school was. During the summer I had made final decisions about my future, and I wanted to put them into action without delay. My sixteenth birthday was due in September. My mother, feeling slightly more comfortable about money since Grandfather Isobe's affairs had been settled, had promised to give me and some friends a party at a restaurant near our school. Of course I invited the rest of the Chain Gang. It seemed strange for us all to be sitting there in our school uniforms, eating simple Japanese food and drinking soft drinks, and giggling and chatting like ... well, schoolgirls. I wasn't the only one, I thought, who had learned to manage a double life. But the real celebration was being planned for me by Reina. It was to take place, she explained, at a very high-class nightclub in Akasaka called the Pink Pussycat.[32] The mama-san was an associate of Reina's, and while we were not to take over the place completely the agreement was that the Chain Gang would put on a special show and the mama-san would make sure that some of her regular clients, men with a special interest in new young talent, were in the audience. Of course I was keen to know what kind of show we were to put on for them. "You leave that to me," said Reina. "Your job is to get the girls together. You can promise them a wonderful experience and an evening which could well lead to great things." It had not been easy to find a date which suited everyone. Kin and Gin complained that the bath-house owner would be annoyed with them: now that they were back at school, they had limited time for him and he wanted to use all of it. Jun and Aki both had a bit of parent trouble. But somehow I had managed it. We had been instructed to arrive at the Pink Pussycat by seven, so as to have plenty of time to prepare for our show before the guests came. I wore ordinary clothes for the journey from my home: if I thought about it at all, I suppose I preferred not to attract too much notice. I wanted to be free to concentrate on preparing myself for the experience which lay ahead, and which I knew would require my full commitment and dedication. But I soon realised I should have thought more carefully if I wanted to avoid attention! In my little room at home it seemed natural, on a sunny late autumn afternoon, to wear denim shorts, wedge shoes and a thin white sleeveless top cropped well above my navel, but I soon found that it was a mistake. The subway was quite full, though not crowded, and I had to stand, my top pulled up quite a way on one side as I reached above my head to hold on to one of the straps hanging from the high bars. The carriages on the line I was using were still the old-fashioned ones with cooling-fans rather than air-conditioning, and as they slowly rotated they made the thin cloth flutter and then flatten against my hard nipples. It felt nice but made it rather too obvious that I was wearing no bra. Several times a man interrupted my concentration by asking me if I would like to join him for a coffee or a drink, but I modestly refused. In the full carriage I felt hands stroking my bottom through the denim and fingers tickling the sensitive fold between the lower curves of my arse and the tops of my thighs, left nicely exposed by the high cut of my shorts. Somehow I didn't mind that: it reminded me that I had the great gift - granted to all girls if they only knew it - of pleasing men and making them want to please me. Far from distracting me, the gentle stimulation aided me in my concentration on what would be expected of me during the evening ahead. Most of the others were at the club already when I arrived: Masumi in modest blouse teamed with a tight miniskirt stretched over her plump bottom, Kin and Gin in smart co-ordinated minidresses with short flared skirts, one red and one blue, bubbling over with excitement as they described the attempts to pick them up as they walked, arms round each other's waist, through the smart streets of Akasaka. As soon as all seven of us were accounted for, Koizumi-san, the manager or mama-san, bustled in and addressed us. "All of you here on time. Good. First rule of this establishment, if any of you are thinking of applying for jobs here." She smiled at us, and we giggled nervously. "Now, follow me and I'll show you where to take up position on stage." She divided us into two groups and following her instructions the seven of us walked onto the stage, I leading a group of four from stage left, Masumi at the head of the other three from the right. She rehearsed us in walking slowly and modestly, eyes fixed on the ground: we would be nude except for our black heels and bondage straps, of course, but we were not to flaunt our nakedness - that would come later! The stage was already set for our performance and was hung with black curtains. We each had waiting for us a frame of glittering steel poles to which we would be bound, three along the back of the stage facing the audience and two arranged in a diagonal angle at each side. The upper bar of each frame bore a card with a letter clearly legible from the auditorium: because this was to be an elegant high-class show, the letters were not from the Roman alphabet but were the first seven _hiragana_ symbols in their traditional Japanese order.[33] My frame was the one in the middle - I was after all supposed to be the star of the evening's show! - and the _kana_ above it was therefore _ni_. The twins Kin and Gin were to be on either side of me, their identical appearance making a pretty effect. When the mama-san was satisfied, we all returned to the narrow backstage area. Harry and Anton were waiting there, dressed only in tight black leather slacks. They greeted us cheerfully, but I noticed - perhaps the others did too - that they were each discreetly holding in one hand a long neatly coiled whip. I could not help picturing vividly what that might mean, and the implication sent delicious shivers of fear thrilling through me. "Now, they'll be here in a few minutes, so get into costume! Come with me and I'll help you." She led the way to a room we had not visited before. There were narrow grey steel cabinets along the wall, one for each of us to leave our clothes in. Little cards bearing our names had been placed in the slots on the doors, arranged in the order we had been instructed to take up on stage. The items we were to wear for the performance were ready for us inside. Harry and Anton followed us and, once we had taken our clothes off, helped us get ready and supported us as we tentatively practiced walking in our pretty, provocative costumes. So far as I was concerned, the narrow, 14-centimetre high heels of my black shoes, fixed tightly to my feet by only a strap across my toes and a broad band round each ankle, forced me to take each step with care, and I think the others felt the same. It took me a while to find a pair that fitted me snugly, and I had to exchange with Masumi who had feet a size larger than mine and could not comfortably squeeze them into the pair laid out ready for her. There were bright steel D-rings in the ankle-straps, so that the shoes were not only footwear but could also function as part of our bondage attire. Apart from the shoes, we were each to wear a polished belt in gleaming black leather, with matching wrist-bands and broad, snug-fitting collar. When we were ready, the mama-san instructed us to stand in front of our steel cabinets with our backs to her and holding on tightly. There was a moment of silence. Then, without warning, Harry and Anton unfurled their long black whips. Each had three braided strands with tiny stinging metal points buried glittering at intervals along their length and ending in a little star of hard leather. Without warning the tormenting triple lashes began to whisk round us. I had expected that to happen, but even so the sudden sensation took my breath away. The two men were standing at each end of the line of seven nude girls and their whips were long enough to titillate several girls at once. Because I was placed at the centre of the row I benefited from the flickering ends of both sets of lashes with their hard leather tips as they kissed and delighted my bottom, my thighs, my lower back ... For a moment I remembered the admiring hands which had caressed my bottom and thighs on the subway. I bent forward as I clung to the steel cabinet and pushed my bottom outwards, eager to force the two men to grant me yet more of the whips' blissful embrace. I have no idea how long they went on delighting me, but it was not long enough! Only too soon the pretty sevenfold squeals of "Oh, more! Please! Harder!" turned to tearful complaints. "That's enough!" said the mama-san severely. "Oh, but it's not! It can't be finished! Please!" whimpered seven profoundly unfulfilled girls. "That's all you get for now. I want you stimulated and deeply unsatisfied. That way you'll really put all you've got into what's been prepared for you - and the audience will enjoy it all the more." She was right, of course, though it seemed a terribly cruel thing to leave us so aroused and so frustrated.[34] Harry and Anton put down their lovely whips and began wiping our bottoms tenderly with damp cloths, stroking away the few tiny spots of blood which the lashes with their cruel metal points had drawn from us. A voice which I recognised as Reina's suddenly spoke from an address system, respectfully informing the mama-san that the audience was ready for us. == Since we had rehearsed our entrance, each of us went straight to our ordained position on stage. When we were ready, the two men, still bare-chested and dressed only in their tight leather slacks, set to work chaining us to our frames. They started at the two ends of the curved row of naked girls and took their time, knowing that the audience would enjoy watching the process of our docile, willing captivity. Each girl was secured to her frame by short chains locked to the steel rings in her ankle-straps and wrist-cuffs, so that she was held in a star position; then her helplessness was enhanced by chains leading from her collar and belt to the two vertical poles. She seemed to be held in a web of elegant chains. But despite her submissiveness each girl was held a little loosely: she could still move within a certain limit. The torment she was about to experience would certainly make her wriggle and squirm enjoyably - at least, the audience would find it enjoyable to watch her! But she would not be permitted to scream or beg for mercy: once all her chains were locked in place, a ball-gag was inserted into her mouth and its straps buckled tightly behind her head. They had finished binding Masumi and Kokomi at the ends of the row now, and had moved on to Jun and Aki. Then it was the turn of Kin and Gin, whose irrepressible giggles and pleas to be chained yet more tightly clearly pleased the audience. At last they too were silenced by their gags, leaving only the tinkling of their chains as they wriggled and squirmed, eager for the torture to begin. As I waited quietly for my turn, I looked out into the audience. I could just make out the tall figure of Reina standing at the back. In the rows of comfortable seats there were about forty men, and a couple of elegantly dressed women of a certain age: I guessed they were in a lesbian relationship and enjoyed the extra spice of watching, and assisting in, sadistic shows of this kind. Well, why not? I thought: there was no reason why the stimulation of seeing seven nude girls prettily bound and sweetly tortured to near-orgasm should be restricted to men. My attention was caught by one man in particular, near the left end of the front row. He was quite elderly, thin and hardly good-looking, but he bore the obvious signs of wealth and authority. Two much younger men sat in the row behind him, leaning forward deferentially and responding to his comments: I caught the formula _shacho-san_, "Mr President". At an urgent signal from one of the young staffers, Reina, dressed I could now see in a smart miniskirted uniform, came quickly forward from the back of the auditorium and bent over the President. I could not hear what it was he wanted to ask her, but she was clearly able to assure him that whatever was bothering him had been attended to. At last Harry and Anton reached me, one working on each side of me and taking the opportunity to caress my breasts, arse and pussy. Their touch on my arse, already extra sensitive from the kiss of their whips, was particularly delightful. I wriggled and begged them not to stop - but then I had to open my mouth for the gag. As a special treat, mine was held in place not only by the belts buckled behind my head but also by narrow straps passing on either side of my nose and joining into a band which fitted over the top of my head and connected with the back of my collar. The two men pulled it tight so that I was forced to hold my head up proudly. There was an extra refinement: a steel D-ring was fitted to the band at its highest point, and a chain joined it to the horizontal pole above my head. Gradually the chain was shortened till I was hanging by the harness holding my head and neck, only the tips of my toes still touching the floor. The effect on me of this cruel suspension was amazing and I could feel nectar gathering in my cunt and beginning to tickle my thighs as it oozed down them. Could I bear it? I had to - I wanted to - oh, so much! The mama-san stepped forward and addressed the audience. "Good evening, gentlemen," she began with a deep bow, "and welcome to this very special presentation. As you know, the charming Hanako has just achieved her sixteenth birthday." She gestured towards me, suspended in my frame at the centre of the array of helpless femininity. "Ever since her first sexual experience she has dreamed of becoming an actress in sex-shows. Now she is free to attain that ambition - although it will be another two years before she may legally go on to become an adult video star. But with your help and support, she plans to devote those two years to increasing her experience and expanding her sexual repertoire." She bowed again and there was polite applause. "Now, gentlemen, as you see Hanako-chan and her six helpless companions are charmingly displayed for you to enjoy. But that is not all! My assistants will now add to their torment, and to your pleasure." Harry and Anton again started at each end of the row, fixing toothed metal clamps to each girl's nipples and inserting a metal dildo deep into her cunt. The chains tinkled prettily as each girl in turn squirmed under this operation. When it came to my turn I twisted and swayed from the hook above my head. I wanted to scream and beg - for what? For mercy? For the clamps to be made even tighter? - but of course I could not. I could feel that the dildo fitting snugly into my cunt did not have the smooth metal surface I had expected: it was lined with countless little spikes which enhanced its contact with my dripping love-hole. Reina was now passing a basket along the front row of the audience. "The clamps and vibrators you have seen being fixed to the young ladies are radio-controlled," the mama-san continued. "Each girl has her own frequency, and the intensity of the pulsation and the electric shocks is controlled by these devices. Please make your choice, gentlemen." The basket was now empty, and the seven men in the front row who had been invited to choose controls examined them with interest. "The challenge, gentlemen, is to work out which girl is being controlled by the device you have chosen. When you think you know, call out her number. No, sir, they're not switched on yet," she said with a smile to the man at the end of the row on the President's right who was pointing his remote control in my direction and fiddling with the buttons and sliders. "If you guess wrong, then you must hand over the control to someone else so he can try. But we don't want to make it too easy for you! And the young ladies will enjoy the sensation so much that they won't want it too end too soon. Will you, girls?" she asked suddenly, turning towards the stage. Naturally we could say nothing, but we all swayed and twisted in our chains letting out grunts and moans from behind our gags as best we could. "Of course it wouldn't be difficult to send out sudden jolts of electricity and see which girl reacts," she went on, "so to make the game last longer my colleagues here are holding master controls which govern all seven sets of clamps and vibrators. They'll be setting up a sort of background interference which will get in the way of any messages you send. Would you please demonstrate?" she said, turning to Harry and Anton. They raised their remote controls so the audience could see them, and then turned them on. The effect, so far as I was concerned, was extraordinary. My breasts felt as if they had burst into flame as the electric current surged through them from the toothed steel clamps, and the vibrator began to invade my cunt with more urgency than I had ever experienced from even the strongest and most lustful cock. Each one of the countless spikes seemed to be delivering its own level of electrical torment. Sweat broke out all over me and I swung from side to side on the tips of my toes, trying to escape from the torture while wanting yet more of it. If you have ever touched a live wire with your finger you will know how, without having to think about it, you instantly snatch it away. Imagine how it would feel to be overwhelmed by that instinct as the fluctuating current prickles your nipples and clitoris, but yet to be compelled to maintain the tormenting contact![35] I suppose the other girls were reacting in the same way but I was so taken up with my own overwhelming experience that I had no consciousness left to spare for them. Then suddenly it was over, leaving me with my heart pounding and pussy gasping, pleading as best I could from behind my gag and longing for the wonderful torment to resume. "Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?" I could just hear the mama-san say. "One question," said a member of the audience. "What happens when we get it right?" "Oh, then the girl is released from her frame," the mama-san explained, "and comes to you." "Will she still be wearing her clamps and vibrator? Will the electric shock control still work?" "Of course, if that is your wish! Once you have won her, she is your slave for the rest of the evening and will do whatever you instruct her to do. And of course _you_ may do anything to _her_ that you fancy. We are well supplied with instruments and equipment of all kinds, and you will find the young ladies very willing. In fact, they are exceptionally hot and ready. As part of their preparation for this evening they have been instructed to refrain from all sex, even _onani_, for several days and nights. So their pretty appetites are at their peak." That was strictly correct. We had been so instructed - but whether we had obeyed the instruction was another matter. Speaking for myself, my sexual appetite was indeed at its peak, but my excited anticipation of the evening's pleasures would have made it so regardless of how much or how little sex I had had beforehand. "And to increase their appetites still further, they were all given a light whipping before coming on stage. Not enough to satisfy them - oh, no, we know better than that! - but enough to stimulate them nicely for you to enjoy. I think I can promise you a pleasant evening, gentlemen. Let us begin!" And begin they did. The huge surge of energy would have lifted me off my feet if I had not been so firmly constrained. The dildo gripped deep inside me by my greedy cunt and held there by its many spikes served two purposes: simultaneously vibrating delightfully and delivering an endless and varying flow of electric shocks all along its length and especially to the root of my clitoris. That alone would have been enough, had I been free, to turn me into a helpless mass of pleasure squealing and arching my back as I was driven relentlessly to sublime orgasm. As it was, I could do no more than groan from behind my gag, quivering and shivering as I twisted on the tips of my toes. But that was not all, of course: my breasts were subjected individually to a fluctuating but relentless current as I tried at once to escape from the maddening torture of the electrified clamps and to press my nipples yet more firmly into their steel embrace. To begin with at least I could distinguish between the background flow of pleasure delivered by the controls held by Harry and Anton and the peaks of agony sadistically inflicted on me by whoever had the control tuned to my individual wavelength, in the hope that the answering spasms of my sweating, twisting, quivering body would betray me. But soon enough all these extreme and wonderful sensations merged into one irresistible and ever-varying torrent which mastered me fully and whipped me along the endless pathway to paradise. How happy I was to surrender to it! How amazing it was to be a girl in the full bloom of a fresh sensuality which gave me access to this supreme ecstasy! That is what men are for, I suddenly realised. Not that I thought it in words - I was beyond words by now - it was a sort of vision that came to me. The Gods had put men on earth, with their cocks and their strength and the ingenuity of their sexual imagination, so that they could fulfil girls' sensual destiny. They were my servants, my slaves even. Their purpose was to penetrate my gasping love-holes with their thick, passionate cocks, to lash my firm but supple arse and thighs with their loving whips, to torture with steel clamps and electric current the love-buttons proudly thrusting from my hard breasts and shyly peeping from my tender cunt, and thereby take me to a paradise I could not reach on my own. All I had to do was make my body desirable and seductive enough to stimulate their love and their cruelty, and take care not to destroy their poor, simple delusion that they were doing all this because they wanted to, rather than at my command. Then this exquisitely unendurable ecstasy would be mine for ever. I am striving to put this in words because that is the only way I can convey it, but it came to me in a single flash as a revelation while I was stretched tautly in my chains squirming and writhing in ecstatic torment. Somewhere back in the real world, members of the audience were calling out the syllables with which we seven girls were labelled. Usually they were then told they were wrong and had to hand their remote controls to other spectators who could then try their skill. Occasionally someone was right and a girl was released from her bondage and handed over to the winner. Kin and Gin, I was vaguely aware, had scampered eagerly across the stage taking sexy little steps in their heels, seeking out their new masters and squealing happily as they looked forward to a joyful night of sexual slavery. Masumi was claimed by one of the lesbians and joined her and her partner. I wished I could watch what they did to and with her - there would be lovely new things to learn, I thought! But Masumi would tell me all about them later, and we could try them out together. I did not know it at the time, but my own performance had been carefully planned. As other girls were identified and claimed, it became clear that it was the President who held the control tuned to my frequency. But the letters he called out were always, deliberately I later realised, wrong and he surrendered the control to one of his young men who used it with ingenious sadism before making his own deliberate mistake and returning it to his boss. But at last, accompanied by sycophantic applause from the young men, Reina and the mama-san, he called out "_Ni_!" Harry and Anton rushed forward and freed me from my chains. They removed my leather belt and wrist-cuffs and wiped the sweat from my body with delicately perfumed damp cloths. They then began to remove my collar and the other straps encircling my head. The President stood up and moved towards the stage, ready to receive me. "Yes, take her gag out," he instructed. "I want her mouth free. But can't she keep her head-straps on? They suit her." "It would be a little difficult without the gag, sir," said the mama-san deferentially. "But perhaps you would care to see her wear a nose-hook?" The President nodded curtly and very soon Reina was coming towards me with one. She gently wiped my face, which was wet with sweat and saliva from the gag and harness I had worn, then deftly slipped the two steel hooks into my nostrils and led the strap over the top of my head to join my collar. She pulled it tight so that I was again forced to hold my head up proudly. "Nice," said the President. "Oh, leave her nipple-clamps on. I like them." "Thank you, sir," I said. They were the first words I had spoken since he had claimed me as his slave. He beckoned me to join him in the auditorium. My feet were unsteady in the tight high-heels, and my legs were shaking from the long captivity in the chains, but I came as quickly as I could down the shallow steps from the stage. He resumed his seat in the front row and spread his legs. I knew at once what he wanted and knelt in front of him. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked as I fumbled with his belt and the zipper of his trousers. "Oh, _yes_, sir!" I said with sincerity. "It was lovely! Thank you, thank you! The way the electricity kept peaking and cutting right through me like a sword ... you were so clever, sir! It was the most wonderful experience I have ever had ..." "Good. I look forward to torturing you like that many more times." But I could not reply: my mouth was fully occupied with his erect cock. It was of only medium size, and was gnarled and deeply rutted as an old man's cock usually is. I began by exploring its ridges and hollows with the tip of my tongue, holding it in position with one hand and prickling his balls with the long nails of the other. He lay back in his seat and began to groan with pleasure, while his two young men watched and encouraged him with discreet murmurs of "Oh, good!" and "Well done, sir!" One of them gestured to me to take the old man's cock fully into my mouth: he clearly knew what his boss liked and how quickly he would come. I took the hint and drew him fully into me, letting the tip tickle the back of my throat and sucking the shaft vigorously. Soon I felt it thicken as the load of cum began to force its way up from his balls, and then my tongue was flooded with the thick cream. It tasted rather bitter, lacking the fresh, velvety richness of boys' and young men's semen. But I had given satisfaction, that was the main thing. As I sat back on my heels and opened my mouth so he could watch me savour and swallow the gift of his lust, he leant forward, murmured "Good, good!" and reached down to pet my breasts and fiddle with the mechanism of my clamps. As the cruel grasp of the steel jaws suddenly increased I let out a little gasp. "You like that?" he asked with a smile. "Oh, y-yes, yes ..." I said, trying to sound hesitant. Let him think he is hurting me, I thought. If he believes I am in pain but desperate to hide it, then he will do even lovelier things to me as he tries to take me over the limit of my endurance and make me beg for mercy. He began to stand up. The young men rearranged his trousers and fastened his belt for him. I stayed kneeling on the floor, gazing up at him in awe. The mama-san bustled forward, Reina following her. From my kneeling position I could see for the first time how elegant she looked in her shiny dark red miniskirt and black fishnet tights. "We have a room for you, sir," said the mama-san, "if you would care to use it. A _special_ room." "What do you think, Hanako-chan?" he asked in a kindly tone, leaning down to me. "Shall we go and explore this, er, special room?" "Oh, yes, sir!" I said in my best little-girl voice. "It sounds lovely. That is," I added hurriedly, "if _you_ wish it. I am your slave, sir - now and for ever ..." "Good, good ..." Yes, I thought secretly, the revelation I had been granted still fresh in my mind, I shall play the part of being your slave. But in reality - in the new reality I have now discovered - I am your mistress, and you and all your staff and servants exist only to do my bidding as you propel my sensuality to ever greater heights of gratification. The whole point of being a girl is sexual pleasure: the only purpose of being a man is to give it to her. We left the little theatre by a side door. The President slipped his arm round my waist and hurried me along the corridor to the "special" room. "Please sir," I said humbly, "forgive me ... I can take only little steps in these shoes ..." "Yes, yes, all right," he said, giving me more time and looking down with a pleased smile at my feet as I tiptoed along, deliberately exaggerating the constraint of the tight high-heels. "Nice. Do you always wear heels like that?" "Oh, yes, sir! As high and tight as I can manage. My lovers - I mean, my masters, my owners - seem to like them." He said nothing more till the mama-san opened a door with a little flourish and urged us politely to enter. The room was comfortably furnished with a couch, a low bed, some armchairs and a side-table which seemed to be heaped with instruments. But there were other things as well: a metal frame similar to the one I had inhabited for the last hour on stage, a padded horse which a girl could be bent over while being whipped or arse-fucked, and a wooden throne. Clearly the comfortable furniture was intended for my audience while the instruments of torture were for me. "I'll leave you now, Hanako-chan," said Reina. "I'm joining your friend Masumi and her lady-friends. Have a lovely time." "Oh? Then you too ... have a lovely time," I said politely. "I'm _sure_ I will!" she replied, and left, her thighs swishing sexily as she moved. I stood submissively before my owner, my hands folded in front of my crotch. The nose-hook forced me to hold my head up proudly but I lowered my eyes modestly. "What would you like me to do first, Master?" I asked shyly, eager to begin but trying not to show it. He turned to the mama-san. "Did you say she was whipped before the show?" he asked. "Oh, yes! They all were. All seven. Not for long, of course, and not hard. Just a little appetiser." "Did you enjoy that?" he asked me. "Oh, yes! But it was not nearly enough ..." I added longingly. "Well, we must put that right." Without waiting for instructions, the two young men picked up wrist-cuffs from the selection of bondage implements on the side-table and soon I was imprisoned within the whipping-frame, the short chains hanging from its bars fastened to my wrists and ankles and pulling me into a star shape. "Remove her breast-clamps," he ordered. "Ohhh ..." I protested sadly as their loving bite was released. "Don't worry, dear," he said kindly. "Your pretty breasts will soon be feeling the whip instead." "Thank you, sir," I murmured. "Now, what shall we choose?" he said thoughtfully. He stood up. The young men brought him a selection of whips and he examined them carefully, consulting me as he did so. "I'm sure you like this one," he said, showing me a whip of many long, thin knotted strands. "Oh, _yes_!" I said, hardly able to speak for pleasure at meeting such an old friend. "But I enjoy seeing a girl whipped with one of these," he went on, holding out a long bull-whip. The polished leather creaked sexily. "Kiss it!" I kissed the two metres of tightly braided lash hungrily along almost all its length as he moved it along my lips. The smell of leather intoxicated me. When I had finished he handed the instrument to one of the young men. The other was holding the whip of many knotted strands. I noticed that while I had been engaged in kissing my new lover, the elegant braided whip, they had taken off their jackets, their shirts and their shoes and were now standing in front of me in only their suit trousers. The President settled himself comfortably on the couch. "Begin!" he commanded. The man with the long whip moved behind me and suddenly I felt the kiss of the beautiful thing as it encircled my hips. It was long enough to pass round me twice: just a light stroke to begin with, but I knew this was only the beginning ... meanwhile the other young man stood in front of me, smiling quietly as he held his instrument in his right hand and passed the many knotted strands slowly through his left. I longed to feel them kissing my breasts, so neglected and unloved since my clamps had been removed - but all at once the true assault on my hips and thighs began. I had no space in my mind to yearn for other pleasures as I was spun like a top by the braided leather, whirled up towards the paradise which is every sensually enlightened girl's birthright. I came back to the ordinary world when the whipping stopped. Hands were caressing my breasts - which of the young men was doing that? It didn't matter - and I opened my eyes to find the President standing in front of me, his fingers dabbling in my cunt. "Good! Good!" he was saying to the young men. "That was very pleasing. For her as well as for me. Look how juicy she is!" He withdrew his fingers and demonstrated how they glistened in the light. He licked them, and smiled with pleasure. "More, please," he said; then, looking at me, "you'd like to be whipped more, wouldn't you?" "Oh, yes, sir - please, if I may!" "Of course you may. That's what they're here for," he said, waving his hand vaguely towards the others. This time it began with the many-stranded whip on my breasts and tummy, the myriad knots scattering stardust over me as they bit delicately into my sensitive flesh. Oh, how I longed for it to last for ever! This whip's lighter touch made it harder for me to resume my progress to paradise, but it was fun to be made to work at it, swaying and giving myself to the whip's love, squealing happily and begging for more. I saw the President, seated on his couch, gesture towards the man behind me, and before I could register fully what that meant, the braided whip joined the game, driving me ever higher towards my ultimate destiny. I came back to reality to find myself supported by strong arms as my chains were removed. My damp, quivering body was tenderly wiped down with another lightly perfumed cloth, and I was placed gently in a leather armchair facing the President on his couch. I was sprawling with my bottom only just on the seat and my legs spread out in front of me. I felt I should sit more respectfully, but I was too comfortable and relaxed. "No, stay as you are," said the President, guessing what I felt. "You've earned a rest. Take off her nose-hook," he added, "and one of you ..." One of the young men gently removed the strap holding the hooks in my nostrils, which made it easier for me to look across at the President from my relaxed position in the leather armchair. The other knelt on the carpet in front of me, placed his hands on my thighs, leant forward and delicately kissed my cunt. He ran the tip of his tongue along my lips, then began to enter me, lapping up the love-juice which his and his colleague's efforts had caused to flow, and ending each lick by teasing my clitoris. After doing this six or seven times, he looked up at me and smiled. "Nice?" "Very nice." "You must show me how you like it best. Put me where you want me." He snuggled his face more closely into my crotch. How lovely it felt! I could not resist placing my hands on the back of his head and directing his efforts more precisely. He responded very willingly. "Is it nice for you too?" I asked. "Very, _very_ nice!" I heard him reply in a stifled voice. "You taste so good!" Following his directions I closed my thighs around his head, then crossed my ankles imprisoning him. I rested the sharp tips of my heels on his back. I could make out what sounded like appreciative noises from somewhere inside me, so I pressed harder, spurring him on. It was my turn now to be the sadist.[36] He responded by sucking and kissing even more deeply and enthusiastically. It was a beautiful experience: I lay back in the chair with my eyes closed and enjoyed it. "Now, Hanako," I suddenly heard the President say, "I need to talk to you." I opened my eyes - it was not possible to do more than that with my lover's face pushing me down into my lying position - and paid attention. "You will have guessed that I am President of a big company. I shan't tell you its name - though you will find out, I do not doubt, if we work together. Nor will I tell you my name, nor give you any personal details like whether I am married. None of that is important. What matters is that I like young girls like you. I maintain an apartment in central Tokyo. It is big, modern and comfortable. I think you will like it. The girl who was living there has left." He raised a hand to stop me asking questions. "It was all very friendly: let's just say she was getting a little too old to interest me any more. I am offering you her position and her apartment." I was too astonished to reply. In any case the young man's tongue deep inside my cunt was making it difficult to think clearly. "The arrangement is this. There was a time when I took pride in the pleasure I could get from young girls, and the pleasure I gave them. I fucked my girls very frequently. Not any more. I am too old to do anything much except enjoy watching them being pleasured by the young men I provide for them, as you have been this evening. And I am too realistic to imagine that they enjoy my occasional sexual use of them." I tried to protest. "No, no: if you are to work for me it must be on a basis of honesty. You will put on a show for me to enjoy whenever I want it, a show you will enjoy yourself. If it stimulates me enough to want to fuck you, then I will enjoy doing that - and whether or not you enjoy it too won't really matter to me. One of my secretaries will let you know when I propose to visit you, giving you time to prepare. When I am not with you ... and of course I maintain other apartments, and other girls about whom you will know nothing ... you may enjoy yourself as you wish. I hope you will use your free time to expand your sexual repertoire and prepare yourself for the day when you leave my employ and follow whatever career you fancy: as a full-time actress, prostitute, bar-hostess, bath-house girl ... my office has contacts in all parts of the sex industry and will see to it that you are given a good start." I said nothing. I listened hard, even though it was difficult to concentrate with the young man's tongue exploring deep inside my cunt. "The apartment is of course equipped with a wide variety of sex-toys and equipment. If there is anything lacking, any new gadget which will stimulate your masochism and please me when I see it used on you, just ask and it will be provided. Are you enjoying what he is doing to you?" He gestured at the young man whose face was buried between my legs. "Oh, yes! He's very good." "I'm glad. I have far too many young men working for me. They are supposed to be management trainees but as far as I can make out they spend most of their time fucking the secretaries. Well, that's what OLs are for, of course. I will supply you with a team of my young men to look after you and do whatever you most enjoy having done to you. The girl you are replacing had a regular group of twelve. But if you need more, or if any of them are not to your taste, just tell my secretary and she will arrange things." I was so astonished I could say nothing. "I expect you to use them in staging entertainments to stimulate me when I call on you. And they will serve your friends too, of course, when they visit you." "My friends may visit me?" "Of course! Whenever you like. And they may take part in entertaining me too, if you think it appropriate. The other six girls here this evening - they are your friends?" "Oh, yes! We have formed a group to provide entertainments ... at parties and so on ... we call ourselves the Chain Gang." "Good, good. There are some talented girls there. Especially the two ... are they twins? Yes, I thought so. Being serviced by a pair of identical twins is very agreeable. When they are young and enthusiastic as your friends are. I hope you will all continue to work together. And you may invite male lovers to visit you, and leave the apartment whenever you wish. The condition of your employment with me is that you shall be available to entertain me whenever I request it. I shall give you fair notice of my visits, as I said. I may also require you, and perhaps other girls in my employment, to attend meetings or events arranged for my business contacts. On such occasions you will receive detailed instructions from my secretary. In return for your work you will receive an allowance, plenty for you to live on but also I think enough to cover any incidental expenses - clothes, sex toys, whips and so on - related to your entertainment of myself." He gestured towards the pile of items laid out on the side-table. "But I expect complete honesty in our relationship. Is that understood?" "Yes, sir. Fully understood." "Good! Well, seeing you pleasured like that is giving me an appetite." He turned to the other young man. "Shall we put her in the hot-chair? No, I think we'll use the horse." The man kneeling between my legs quickly withdrew, stood up and wiped his face. The two of them took me by the arms and gently pulled me upright. "Would you like her gagged, sir?" one asked. "No, I'd like to hear her scream. And I may want her mouth later." I found myself, kindly but firmly, walked over to the horse and placed over it. My ankles were gently pulled apart. The lover who had been sucking my cunt had not wiped me, and the combination of his saliva and my love-juice felt cool and made me shiver as I lay with my legs open. My head and arms hung loosely over the other side of the horse, my hands almost touching the floor. One young man squatted beside me and held my wrists while the other discussed whipping techniques with my Master. I could not see the instruments he was offering him, but soon I was aware of my Master's feet approaching me. "Hold her head up," he said to the young man grasping my wrists. "Now," he then said to me, "I think I will get pleasure from whipping you with _him_. And I take it for granted that you will enjoy it too. Kiss him." He held out with both hands a long flexible instrument sheathed in black leather and with a triangular decoration at the tip. It was a riding-crop. He moved it along my lips so that I could kiss its full length. I had expected to find the shaft a slim wooden or bamboo rod of circular cross-section under the leather, but as it was moved along my lips I could tell that whatever it was made of had been shaved into a triangular shape with sharp edges. I began to tremble as I imagined this elegant instrument biting lusciously into my quivering bottom. "This will probably be more painful than anything you have ever experienced before," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "It will give you an idea of the sort of things I expect you to endure when entertaining me as my slave. You will of course scream." "Of course, sir," I mumbled as the crop was withdrawn from my lips. "I shall like that. Whether you will like it doesn't matter to me. All I care about is the beauty of your screams and the elegance with which you will wriggle and squirm under the torture." "Yes, sir," I said. What else could I say? "Feet apart," he said mildly, "and bottom well up. Yes, that's nice. Very pretty." I shuffled my feet into the desired position and pressed my hips firmly into the padded top of the horse. I had never been whipped with a crop before and wondered how intense the pain would be. How many strokes would he grant me before he tired? Would he then instruct one of the young men to take over so as to keep me floating in exquisite agony, or would he bring me back to earth all too soon? My body was shivering with the familiar sensation of delicious fear. He must have guessed what I was feeling because he made me wait, my dread of what was soon to happen and my longing for it so at odds with each other that I began to plead with him to release me from the conflict obsessing me. Then I felt his hands gently stroking my arse, the tips of his fingers exploring the valley between my tense buttocks and delicately tickling my anus and my cunt. My wordless pleading rose to a high-pitched moan. I could not bear the tension any longer. He knew that, of course; and deliberately prolonged it and increased it. "Do you know, my dear," he said as his fingers wandered over my shivering flesh, "why whipping a girl's bottom is so satisfying? No, of course you don't. It is because the Gods have designed it for the purpose. You see, it is the one part of you which can be beaten without any risk of damaging any vital organ. A girl's bottom is just a beautiful curved mound of firm flesh, its surface crammed with sensitive nerve-endings. If I beat your breasts or your stomach, I have to be careful not to injure you. But it's almost impossible to harm your bottom. I can whip it and cane it as much as I fancy. The instrument bounces off it very prettily, and it is beautifully sensitive. The nerves flood your brain with the agony we both enjoy so much - you receiving it, I giving it. Your bottom may suffer for many hours afterwards, but then it will return to its original smooth purity and be ready for the next whipping. You see, I have researched the matter thoroughly! Now we shall begin. Please scream to show you appreciate my work." I felt the leather of the crop caressing my shivering bottom as he drew it gently across its twin mounds, as if he was calculating to the millimetre exactly where to strike. Perhaps he was in fact doing just that. "Oh, so pretty," I heard him say, "so very pretty! So pure and smooth! But how much prettier it will look when the crop bites into it and bounces off again, leaving it covered in red lines!" My heart was pounding and I could hardly breathe, so intense was the terror and the lust possessing me. I could not help myself. "Oh, sir," I gasped, "please don't make me wait!" "You want it so much? That is good, very good!" I felt the instrument, my cruel lover, stroking and measuring its target again. Then suddenly, without any warning, it sizzled down onto me, caressing me with all its strength. For a moment, as it bounced off my firm round bottom in the way my Master had described, I was conscious only of the shock. Then a line of white flame was etched into my arse, its heat flooding through me, setting my clitoris on fire, then consuming my mind with the most intense agony I had ever experienced. This was the agony he had promised me - the pain I had been told girls normally felt as a whipping commenced, giving way gradually to the ecstasy of masochism, but which I in my eager embrace of the whip and its pleasures somehow never felt - or only a little, once, under Ken's whip - as I rushed headlong into paradise. Oh, but how terrifyingly wonderful it was, and what a miracle of feeling I had been missing! I wanted to beg for more, for this incredible experience to last forever, but I could only let out a wordless, high-pitched scream. Of course there was much more to come. My Master gave the agony time to consume me, then brought the crop down again a precise millimetre below the first fiery line. Again the flames flooded through me and I screamed in ecstatic torment. The next line was slightly higher - and this time I could feel the flames consuming the pleasure centres of my mind, setting them on fire, causing them to overwhelm the agony with the most intense delight. Now I was free to beg for more, pleading with my wonderful Master to give me endless joy. Of course it was his pleasure that mattered, not mine, but I think my screams and the bouncing of my arse on the padded top of the horse as I simultaneously shrank from the torture of the crop's shaft and rose to welcome it gave him the satisfaction he sought. Through the shining red mist which overwhelmed me I could hear his murmurs of "Good, my dear! Very good." Between each slow stroke the precisely applied agony gradually merged with the background glow of my red-hot arse, which in turn stoked the overwhelming furnace of ecstasy which was consuming my whole being. But it ended at last, just as the progression of strokes reached the sensitive fold between my arse and the tops of my thighs and the sharp-edged shaft gave me a final urgent thrust towards paradise. Then my master was kneeling by my head as I hung over the side of the horse, gasping, weeping, pleading for mercy and begging for more. "That was good, my dear! Very good," he said again. "And what is more, you have given me an erection. I am very pleased with you." I could hear rather than see the two young men rushing obediently to help him unbuckle his belt and lower his trousers. Then he seized my long hair, twisted it round his fist and pulled my head up. His gnarled old cock, certainly erect, was pointing at my face. "Carry on whipping her, you two, while I take her," he instructed. "Oh yes, _please_!" I murmured. "Use the cat with the knotted lashes," he said, ignoring me. "She'll like that." Before I could beg instead for more of the extreme pleasure of the riding-crop, he moved forward on his knees and shoved his cock into my mouth. He was right, of course. The myriad hard knots burst over my red-hot bottom like a shower of needles, stimulating me but not letting me lose control or ability to perform my main task. I let my arms go on dangling down the side of the horse while I worked on his cock with just my lips and my tongue. It was going to take him a long time to come, I thought; but I did not mind that. The longer it took the longer the maddening whip would keep me at least on the lower slopes of ecstasy. Before I could make him come, he pulled out of my mouth. "Turn her over!" he commanded. The whipping stopped and strong arms lifted me, then placed me gently back on the horse so that now my bottom was pressing against the padded top and my arms and legs were hanging on either side. "She needs something under her arse," I heard him say. "Something stimulating." In a few moments I was lifted again. This time when I was lowered back onto the horse, I felt the cruel prickle of a myriad sharp points pressing into my sensitive skin. Some kind of matting of stiff bristles had been placed over the soft padding so as to keep the sensation in my tortured arse at the peak of anguish. Oh, how lovely! Oh, how kind! The whipping was now pleasuring my breasts, my tummy and my thighs. I think both of the young men were working hard with knotted lashes, but I could see nothing. My Master's cock was demanding entry into my upside-down mouth, and his balls were slapping against my forehead. Instead of relying only on my lips and tongue, I raised one hand and took his shaft between my fingers, stroking it as it emerged rhythmically from my mouth only to plunge into it again; with my other hand I tickled his balls with the tips of my nails. I could hear him calling out "Good, good!" and it must have been good because I was soon rewarded with gobbets of his bitter-tasting cum. "Well done, my dear!" he said as he finally withdrew. "That was good." He stood up, and from my upside-down position I watched him wipe his cock, and then pull on his underpants and his trousers. One of the young men helped him with his belt. "My secretary will be in touch on Monday about arrangements for your move into the apartment. Good night." I saw his feet moving towards the door. "Carry on whipping her," I heard him instruct the young men. "As long as she likes. She deserves it." The door clicked shut behind him. == Reina drove me home in her little car. It was kind of her: I was hardly in touch with the real world and in no state to face a late-night journey on the subway among men returning from their evening sessions in bars and strip-clubs. My red-hot, throbbing bottom and erect, excited breasts were still flooding the pleasure-centres of my mind with thrilling gratification and I really cannot imagine what would have happened if I had tried to wear my tight denim shorts and skimpy cropped top over them. The extra sensation would have driven me almost mad with ecstatic desire. Instead, Reina covered me up loosely with a sheet from the mama-san's private room. Had I been more in control of my actions, taking the subway alone and placing myself at the mercy of all that male lust would have given me the greatest imaginable thrill. I had seen videos of beautiful, sexually uninhibited _kuro-garu_[37] doing just that on buses and subway trains, and had fantasised about enjoying such experiences myself. But Reina was right not to let me turn my dream into reality tonight. I would need to be fully in control of myself, and of the men who would use me while I tried - just a little - to resist, for such an adventure to give me the satisfaction it should. My mother had not waited up for me: I had told her I would be late and assured her I would be in good hands. (As indeed I had been!) Reina let us both into the house as quietly as possible so as not to wake my mother, and helped me shower. Then she soothed my body, still overheated from the stimulation of the whips, with cooling skin-cream, and put me to bed. I was too excited to sleep. Tomorrow, a Saturday, would be a busy day. I would have to explain to my mother that I had been offered a dream job with a very important company - it hadn't taken me long to identify the discreet mark on the lapel-pins worn by my new Master's young employees on their discarded suit jackets. She would be pleased about that. But she would also have to accept that it would mean both leaving school and leaving home. Well, when it came to the point I did not think she would stand in my way. Reina had promised to help persuade her. When at last I closed my eyes the girl I had seen all those weeks before on my first evening expedition with Reina was walking towards me. As on that first occasion she was exquisitely nude, balancing elegantly on her tall slim heels. Her lover had his arm round her waist, his head turned attentively towards her. This time I could see a beautiful long whip of many thin, knotted strands dangling casually from his right hand. My whole body shivered sympathetically as I watched her on her way to receive her reward for having skilfully stimulated his desire. As she came close to me she smiled. "Are you happy?" she asked. "Are you getting everything you always wanted, and enjoying it?" "Oh, yes!" I replied. "And thank you, thank you for showing me the way!" She passed me. The tails of the long whip rippled elegantly along the carpet behind her lover. Wherever she went, she would always be there for me, I thought. A whole new life was about to begin. I fell asleep at last, and dreamt of being pleasured by an army of respectful and obedient young men, all wearing in their jackets the lapel-pin of one of Japan's leading corporations. FOOTNOTES [32] If you have read the history of Kimiko Kobayashi you may remember that it was at a party in this establishment that she gave her ?rst big public performance. See _I Am Not Ashamed_ Chapter XVIII. - B W [33] The fifty basic syllables of the Japanese language can be written in either of two sets of symbols called _hiragana_ and _katakana_. In modern Japanese they are normally arranged in groups of five: first the vowels alone, _a-i-u-e-o_, then the sound _k_ followed by a vowel, _ka-ki-ku-ke-ko_, and so on. But the traditional arrangement, probably dating back to the 11th Century AD, is taken from a poem which ingeniously uses each syllable once only, and begins _i-ro-ha-ni-ho-he-to_. - B W [34] Now that I am more experienced, and less greedy in my sexual appetites, I have learnt that it is both cruel and beautiful to be treated like that by a lover. The fulfilment, when at last it comes, is even more profound when it is preceded by a long period of frustrated lust. - S O [35] No, don't just imagine it - experience it! Girls can easily obtain equipment of the kind I have described from shops specialising in fetish sex-toys, and any of your lovers would be delighted to help you experiment with it. But be careful! You will soon become addicted to the sweet torment. - S O [36] "Inside every masochist is a sadist longing to be released." Ancient Japanese proverb. (Well, if it isn't, it ought to be.) Release the sadist hidden in your masochistic girlfriend and you will be rewarded with some very remarkable and pleasing experiences. - B W [37] _Kuro-garu_, "black girls", are an intriguing recent development in Japanese feminine sexuality. The word comes from the deep all-over tans which are an essential part of their style. They favour heavy make-up, blatantly provocative clothes and bleached hair, enjoy getting drunk and feel entitled, as liberated sexual beings, to frequent bouts of casual, anonymous sex. The AV industry has produced a whole series of cult movies showing beautiful _kuro-garu_ offering themselves to be splendidly gang-raped on public transport. - B W [Next in Part 21: Epilogue] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams