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 
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