UNFINISHED AFFAIRS 12 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 04: UNFINISHED AFFAIRS BY BOB WILLIAMS ASSISTED BY MEGUMI, CHIYOKO, HANAKO, SAMMY, HIROKO, NATSUKO, SACHI, MAKI, YUKI AND AYAKO PART 12 CHAPTER XII Educating Yuki So Maki left me to start her career. But before she left she passed me on to her sister ... Yuki was Maki's younger sister - about three years younger, which makes her about thirteen when I first got to know Maki. From time to time she told me that younger sister was developing well and showing a healthy interest in sex; but I didn't give it much thought till Maki's eighteenth birthday approached when she would at last be old enough to join - legally - the huge army of girls working in the Japanese sex industry. Of course I was happy for her that she was about to achieve her ambition. But it meant that I would in future see much less of her - except as a paying visitor to the strip-clubs and hostess bars where she would start her career. As a consolation, I suppose, she asked if she could bring Yuki to meet me. I was polite, but not over-enthusiastic. I had already arranged dates with a few other girls I had spotted as potential successors to Maki. But there was no need to turn down Yuki unseen. "What experience has she had?" I asked. "She enjoys masturbating while the boys watch," said Maki. "Well, that's nice. What does she do when she's done that?" "She's very good at stroking and sucking their cocks. She says she loves the taste and smell of cum." "Tells her big sister all about it, does she?" "Oh, yes! And I've told her all about how I'm going to be a stripper and a nude hostess - she thinks that's a lovely idea and is very keen to do it too." "H'm. And you'd like me to teach her what she needs to know? More than just stripping and that?" "Well, I thought you might enjoy it. But if you don't want to ..." "I didn't say that! Is she still a virgin?" "Technically." "She's been whipped?" "No. Never." "What, not at _all_? Not even beaten by a teacher?" "No. Of course I've told her about it, and how lovely it is, but she's shy. I can tell she's dreaming of it, though." "Well, of course she is. All Japanese girls do." Maki turned her back, put her hands behind her neck and stood with her feet apart, recalling one of her favourite poses for receiving unbound whipping. "You'd like to teach her, wouldn't you?" she said over her shoulder with a smile. "You disgusting old sadist, you!" I decided she meant it as a compliment. "I must get back into practice," I said, gently tickling her beautifully firm arse with my nails. "Mm'mm! Now?" "Why not? You know where to go. Let's do it properly - you know, bound. I'll join you in a moment. While you are waiting, you may choose the instruments you'd like me to torture you with." "Thank you, Master," said Maki obediently; and then, as she skipped happily out of the room on her way to my special sound-proof room, "I think you will make Yuki-chan happy - and she will be very grateful to me." == "Topless?" said Yuki, her eyes wide with astonishment. "You mean ...?" Her hands flew to her firm young breasts. Perhaps I should have led up to it more gently, I thought. She delighted in being naked when we were alone together, and I had not expected her to be shocked, or even surprised, at the idea of showing off her pretty nudity in public. "Well," I said carefully, "the people who organise the sort of party we're going to like to set a theme. And the theme tonight is toplessness." "Will _all_ the girls there be topless?" "Oh, yes. To begin with, at least." I meant of course that as the party developed they would remove more and more - competing eagerly in the race to be fully nude for the other guests' pleasure. And for their own, of course. But if Yuki thought I meant something different, then the nudity would be a lovely surprise for her. She began to relax: her eyes sparkled and she dropped her hands. "Well," she said, "if everyone's doing it ... going topless, I mean ... then I'll _have_ to, won't I?" She thought for a moment. "So what should I wear? Otherwise, I mean? A little skirt ... shorts?" Maki had brought her little sister to meet me a few weeks ago. Yuki was keen to show me what she could do, and explained how much she wanted to follow her sister into the sex business. She obviously admired Maki greatly; and Maki had filled her head both with tales of the beauty of the endless public sex she would enjoy in her new career, and with an exaggerated idea of the way I could help her both with her training and with future contacts. I can never resist a pretty girl who is both obsessed with sex and thinks I am some kind of god, so of course I agreed to help. I had plenty of time to devote to Yuki's training: the two girls' mother, a widow, had been called away suddenly to Fukuoka in the southern island of Kyushu to help look after her sick father, and had left Maki in charge of the little household with instructions to see that Yuki came to no harm and did her homework conscientiously. So every day Yuki came to me immediately after school, leaving Maki free for the early evening beginners' shifts she worked, flaunting her pretty sexuality and offering it to jaded office workers in clubs and bars. Meanwhile Yuki worked hard at the skills she would need when she was old enough to follow her sister in her career. I suppose she could call that "doing her homework conscientiously". She had a lot to learn. Her favourite trick was stroking my erection with her clever little hands, and then, when she had made me come, curling up beside me while she licked her fingers clean. It was a long time since I had enjoyed anything so simple and innocent, but she would have to acquire more sophisticated skills before I could take her to a sex-party - and even then it would be many months of hard work before she could be offered to the managers of strip-clubs and porn studios. Still, she had made a good start. She told me how one day a group of boys had forced their way suddenly into her friends' after-school petting session, and had instructed the girls to strip for them. The others had screamed and refused, but something deep inside Yuki had responded to their order. Shyly and obediently she had removed her school uniform, surprised at how arousing she had found the experience. She was so excited by her own nudity and by the boys' awed response that her hands took on a life of their own: she could not stop them stroking her breasts and pussy as they did every night in bed. When she came to herself again she was surrounded by erect cocks. She had never seen anything like them before, and at once began to stroke and caress them. They were so beautiful, she said, that she couldn't help kissing them. Thus began her early love affair with cocks, and the taste, feel and smell of cum. "You really liked the taste the first time a boy came in your mouth?" I asked her. "Oh, yes! It was _lovely_! I thought it was the nicest thing I'd ever tasted. And it's so thrilling to feel it coming ... you know, when I'm stroking his cock, kissing it, sucking it - feeling the beautiful cream on its way up, then all of a sudden filling my mouth ... oooh! I just can't have enough!" "Yes, I think you're just right for the sex business." "Well, of _course_ I am! That's why I'm here. And it's lovely to feel in charge. Do you know what I mean? I make the boy give me the treat I want. Of course he wants to give it to me; but I feel I'm the one controlling the way it happens. Does that make sense?" It made sense all right; but I pretended not to understand and asked her to show me what she meant. Which she did. Delightfully. After a few of our sessions together Yuki made embarrassed references to masochism and whipping. Maki had, as she promised, hinted very generally at the delights in store for her. I said nothing in reply; but had already pointed out a door in my apartment which she was under no circumstances to open without permission. For extra security I had fitted the door with a push-button code lock, but had never removed the old lock from when the room had been a simple storage area. Having put temptation in Yuki's way, I closed the door only with the key, and took care to leave it lying around by accident - the rest was up to feminine inquisitiveness. Sure enough, she had been inside the room, and had a good look round. I knew because the rows of whips and other implements which I kept neatly laid out on a side-table had been slightly disarranged. A cat-o'-nine-tails, its long slender thongs made even more sensuous by little hard knots along their length and sharp metal points at each tip, had been picked up and then carefully - but not quite carefully enough - returned. Had she just run the cruel lashes longingly through her fingers, or had she gone further and tried out their loving embrace, swishing them round her shivering nakedness? I said nothing, of course; but before long I would give her another opportunity of disobeying me. This time I would catch her through the camera system with which I filmed my victims for our later enjoyment, and confront her with the evidence. Then there would be pathetic entreaties for forgiveness, warnings of punishment, helpless bondage to the whipping-frame, appeals for mercy, screams of agony, heavenly orgasms, shy pleas for more and for yet greater cruelty, all the beauty of a tightly-bound, well-whipped Japanese girl in sexual ecstasy ... endless pleasure for us both, and for her the first of many lessons in one of the greatest joys lust has to offer. But for the moment that could wait. Tonight Yuki was to be shown off at her first real sex-party: topless to start with, then - whether she realised it or not - fully nude and, of course, available. "Yes," I said, looking her over carefully, "shorts would be nice. Let's go and see what we can find." She skipped ahead of me to the bedroom where over the years I had built up quite a collection of pretty items for sexy girls to wear, or not wear. Some things I had bought specially for Yuki as part of her training. Shoes, especially. Sexy shoes have to fit really well if they are to be a pleasure to wear; and if the girl doesn't enjoy wearing them it's not much fun watching her display herself in them.[12] And Japanese girls, with their ancient tradition of slopping around in slippers when in a domestic setting, are still not brought up to understand the sexual importance of shoes. Yuki opened the little closet where we kept her personal items and together we chose a pair of black stilettos we had recently bought. She lay back on the bed as I fitted them for her: hardly more than a curved sole and a long narrow heel fixed to each little foot - held in place by a tight strap across the toes, and thongs twisted and knotted round the ankle. "Stand up," I said. "Let me see you walk. The way I taught you." She did it well, pirouetting and weaving across the carpet on her high, pointed heels. Only when she finally turned to face me did she nearly fall, recovering with a sexy wiggle of her bottom. "Good. Now let's choose your panties." I had quite a large stock, worn and abandoned by girls over the years, and we agreed on a tiny black g-string, its side-ties nicely harmonising with the black thongs of her shoes. The shorts were more of a problem, but at last we settled on a pair in glittering silvery material. They were a little too tight for her, the high cut revealing the lower curves of her bottom. But, twirling and preening in front of the mirror, Yuki insisted that it was them or nothing. "Of course, I wouldn't _mind_ wearing nothing," she said flirtatiously. Good, I thought. Little did she know ... "Let me see you take them off," I said. "But I've only just put them on!" she protested coyly. "Never mind. Lesson time. Show me you haven't forgotten what I taught you." "Here?" "There's more space in the living-room." So we went there. As I have told you, Yuki discovered her gift for stripping very early on, and knew how to tease and please a lover very nicely. But that was a long way short of satisfying the sort of experienced, raucous audience she would confront when the time came to try her out in Tokyo's lower-class clubs. So we had worked out a little training routine. I lay sprawled on the floor pretending to be a complete audience, while she strutted shyly up and down in front of me imagining she was on stage. The tight little shorts soon came off very charmingly, and Yuki was parading in front of her audience, with growing confidence, in just her heels and her tiny panties. "Off! Off! Take 'em off!" cried the audience. Yuki looked shyly towards me/us. "You mean ...?" "Take 'em off!" - this time with a hint of menace. "You mean - I may?" "Off!!" "Oh, I _want_ to ... so much ... but I'm not sure ..." "C'mon! Off!" shouted the audience, roused to sexual frenzy by this young beginner's sweet display of coy desire. "May I? _May_ I?" "Yes! Yes!" "Then - _yes_!!" Yuki whispered to us, surrendering at last to the heady atmosphere of lust filling the room. Her fingers toyed with the side-ties of her panties, spinning out the pleasure of stripping as long as she could bear it - then at last she was nude, her last scrap of modesty thrown aside, turning and dancing as the audience roared its approval. Then she stepped shyly down off the "stage" to join her lovers. At once her clever fingers began to stroke my erect cock. "Oooh, that was nice!" she said with a pretty blush. "It was good to watch," I replied. "See what you've done to us all." "Oh, yes! It's ... they're all ... so big - so _beautiful_!" She pretended to admire the array of cocks which, in reality, would greet her as she gave herself to her admirers after her performance. She let go of mine with one hand and gestured as if stroking others as well. "Oooh, I want you all!" she said blissfully. "You do all want me - don't you? Please do anything you like to me - I'm ready - if you enjoy doing it, I'm sure I'll enjoy it too - but promise to finish in my mouth." Yuki had learnt her part well, and played it with complete sincerity as Japanese girls always do. I did my best to stand in for the whole audience with equal sincerity. Before I began rewarding her I managed to reach up to an occasional table and grab the remote of the video player: I had set it ready to play a tape which had become our favourite background for screwing. It had been made at a new Tokyo establishment called the Rosebud Club. It had loud disco music like most such places and a raised dance-floor, but what made it different, and hugely popular, was that only the girls danced while the men watched, and the girls had to be nude. There was no absolute rule about it, but it was understood that that was the way it was, and the Rose-petals, as the girls were called who regularly came to dance at the club, knew what was expected of them. Not to have danced nude would have been odd, unconventional - and no Japanese girl wants to be that. So the camera panned repeatedly over the beautiful naked bodies of twenty or thirty young Office Ladies and college girls relaxing with vigorous non-stop dancing. Apart from heels, the one decoration allowed was a glittering black mask over the eyes, which gave a degree of anonymity and encouraged the girls' charming shamelessness. They wriggled their bottoms and tits delightfully to the music, and from time to time raised one leg high so that the spectators, and the camera, could get a good view of their neatly trimmed pussy-hair, glistening with the juice pouring from their excited cunts. I knew, from having visited the Rosebud Club, that each musical set lasted about thirty minutes. After that the girls left the stage, most returning to the backstage area to shower and put some clothes on but some jumping down - still nude and aroused beyond endurance - to join admirers in the audience, while the next group crowded on to take their places. "Oooh, can't I please do that?" Yuki had asked when I first showed her the video. "I don't see why not." "_Including_ being fucked by the audience afterwards?" "Sure. No one checks the girls' ages at the Rosebud Club. If they look old enough, that's good enough." "When? When?" "If you study really hard I'll take you there as a treat." Yuki studied very hard. == She enjoyed her first sex-party. She looked charming in her tight shorts, and I never did discover if she had already guessed that she would be expected to take them off and be fully nude apart from her sexy high heels. If she had, she had also worked out that she was supposed to believe it was a delightful surprise, and behaved accordingly. I didn't insist on my privilege of being the first to fuck my date, and was happy to see her passed round among the other men present. Someone was stroking her breasts and thighs when she first noticed that other girls were getting naked, and I was close enough to hear her gasp of surprise and charmingly eager question, "May I do that too? Oh, please!" There were quite a lot of girls at the party and those who wanted plenty of fucking had to share each man, two or three competing to suck and fuck his cock while another squatted over his face. As a new girl Yuki received quite a lot of attention, but for the most part she was content to watch the others and learn from their greater experience. Towards the end, when the men were sufficiently satisfied to think about other matters, they agreed among themselves who was to be host next time. As usual, it was his right to decide on a theme for the party. The girls gathered round eagerly while the men tossed ideas around. At last the future host asked the girls to contribute and say what they would prefer. "Say 'corset'," I whispered quickly to Yuki. "That's a good idea," said the host when Yuki had shyly offered her suggestion. "We haven't had a corset party for a long while. Any better ideas?" There were none; and I could see the more experienced girls were already imagining how beautiful they would look in their tight corsets and high heels. "Corsets it is then! See you next time." Yuki's panties had long disappeared, of course, but I had rescued her shorts and helped her squeeze into them. Then, otherwise naked under her short coat, she accompanied me excitedly back to my apartment. "Why were you so keen the have corsets the theme next time?" she asked, skipping along beside me. "You will take me, won't you? And don't forget we'll have to buy a nice corset soon so I can start practicing!" == I had been taking an interest around that time in Victorian pornography. If you think it is tame stuff, long overtaken by our more imaginative and unrestricted porn, you have never read it or seen it. Of course our ancestors' ideas of female beauty were different from ours in some respects: they liked their girls fleshier than we do, and had an obsession with pubic hair while we usually prefer our girls trimmed or even shaved. Put simply, they liked to see a ripe, mature body on a young, inexperienced girl; we are turned on by girls who seem to be almost too young for sex but who in reality are literally dripping with lust. But what really brings us together across the generations is that they loved bondage and sado-masochism just as much as we do - if not more. No group sex-scene was complete without lots of whipping: of boys by girls and of girls by boys. This undoubtedly reflects a real-life obsession with the pleasures of pain. Most people know that in those days boys and young men were frequently whipped for punishment at school, and acquired a taste for it. Less known - because Victorians hardly mentioned it - was that girls too were taught to love painful discipline. As soon as they showed signs of burgeoning sexuality - were caught masturbating, for example - they were taken to formal bondage and discipline sessions where they were expertly whipped and caned. Officially they were being punished for naughtiness; but, behind the hypocrisy, the aim was to ensure that they would delight future lovers and husbands by shyly revealing how well they had been trained, and begging prettily to be subjected to the whippings they had been taught to adore. Of course girls' obsession with bondage and helplessness was reinforced by the clothes of the day. Ideal beauty meant a tiny waist balanced by beautifully rounded breasts and bottom; and this was achieved by wearing cruelly tight corsets, prettily set off by the smallest possible high-heeled boots. Victorian girls loved this concept of achieving sexual desirability through painful bondage, and competed to see who could bear the most extreme constriction, sometimes fainting (into a man's arms if possible) from lack of breath.[13] The fastenings of the corsets and boots were so elaborate, and squeezing into them was so difficult, that girls often left them on while making love, removing only the looser outer draperies. It must have been very stimulating for their lovers: it excited me just to imagine it. Searching the web for Victorian pornographic material, I happened upon a British company specialising in corsets. Of course there are many dealers in corsets meant for modern masochists and fetishists, but this manufacturer made exact copies - apart from using more modern materials - of the styles which so delighted coy Victorian misses and their ardent lovers. So, despite the expense, I had to get one as a surprise for Yuki. The man I dealt with was respectful and helpful. I sent him photos of Yuki and her precise measurements: he was insistent that he must know her exact waist size, not the size I was hoping she would achieve. "Many customers send us the ideal size, sir," he said in an e-mail, "but we need to know the actual measurement. Then the corset will be a perfect fit, and you can rely on us to ensure that it reshapes your Young Lady to the tiniest size that is physically possible." He asked whether my "Young Lady", as he always called her, might like a pair of Victorian-style boots to go with the corset - at a special price, of course. He explained that little high-heeled boots, buttoned tightly up to mid-calf, were an essential feminine accessory - especially for the charmingly innocent, slender-waisted girls who sought to catch the eye of the gentlemen in the streets and music-halls of Victorian London. But our technology had improved on what the Victorians could do: they had to manage with hard blocks of leather glued together, and did not develop the steel shaft which makes possible the slim high heel of the modern girl. So the company's boots would have the best of both worlds: old-style craftsmanship would make my Young Lady's pretty feet deliciously small while modern technology would force her to strut charmingly on much higher tiptoes than used to be possible. So of course I agreed. Yuki's feet were carefully measured in all possible directions, and the results sent off to my friend in Britain who promised the result would make Yuki's feet tiny to match her tiny waist, and that the heels would be just as high as it was physically possible for a girl to manage. "Not that your Young Lady doesn't have beautifully small feet already," he e-mailed, "but we can always improve on nature, can't we sir?" The results had arrived only a few days ago, and I had not yet shown them to Yuki. I was of course determined that she should wear them to the planned sex-party. She should start practicing the very next day. As soon as school was over, Yuki came to my apartment as usual, still in her uniform. "Shall I undress?" she asked. "Or do you want to have me in my uniform? Or in something else?" "Nude," I said briefly. "Oooh, nice! What are you going to teach me today?" "You'll see." She vanished into the bedroom, and twenty minutes later returned, refreshed and lightly scented from the shower. She had taken the trouble to put on a little jewellery and a pair of heels she knew I liked. She snuggled up against me on the sofa and began to stroke my cock. It was already erect. Yuki does that to me. But I didn't want to come yet. I mean, I did of course, but I had something much more interesting in mind. I stood up, and pulled her to her feet. "You haven't forgotten about the corset? Getting ready for the next party, I mean?" "Of _course_ not! I've been thinking about it all day." "Wait here a moment, and come to the bedroom when I call." It didn't take long to unpack the outfit which had arrived from London, and lay out the beautiful black corset and the other items neatly on the bed. I was about to call Yuki, when a thought occurred to me. From a drawer in my closet I pulled a little black whip: not one of the long ones I keep in my torture-chamber, just a baby one with three short leather thongs decorated with pretty little metal studs - a gentle tickler to enhance a girl's pleasure in bed. I arranged it neatly on the pillow, not hidden but separate from the other items. "Oooh, how pretty!" said Yuki when she saw the corset and the boots. "Are they really for me?" "Of course." I had expected her to investigate the corset first, but instead she picked up one of the boots, caressing the little arched sole and running the long, slender heel through her fingers. "Do you think I can really wear these? They're lovely, but they're _so_ small ..." "So are your feet," I said. She giggled. "Try," I added. She sat on the bed and I knelt on the floor, somehow resisting the temptation to kiss her sweet pussy which was already glistening lightly with juice called up by her excitement. I removed her shoes, kissed her little toes, and slipped on the right boot. It went on surprisingly easily, though I had to use both hands to bring her toes right to the front and fit her heel into the place made for it in the soft leather lining. So far her foot was pointing outwards: gently arching it into a tiptoe standing position would come later. I looked up, but she said nothing. She was breathing quickly and I could tell her heart was beating fast. I began to close the upper part of the boot round her ankle and lower calf, and picked up the traditional buttonhook which the manufacturer had included in the parcel. Clumsily at first, and then with growing skill, I fitted the buttons into their holes in the tight leather. Little squeals came from Yuki as each button slid into place. "Is it hurting you?" "No ... that is, yes ... I mean it feels strange but lovely." This was encouraging. "How do you mean?" I asked. I knew what she meant, of course, but wanted to hear her say it. "I thought, you know, it would hurt ... I mean, be painful when I saw how tiny it was ... but it doesn't hurt like that. It's so smooth and soft inside and holds me really nicely. It feels so _right_ ... it squeezes, but in such a lovely way! Put on the other one ..." I fitted her left foot into the tight sheath that had been so skilfully made for it, enjoying the sadistic pleasure of constraining her so firmly. When the last button had been squeezed into its hole I lowered her feet gently to the floor. She sat with just the tips of her long heels resting on the carpet, her toes pointing upwards. I scrambled up and sat beside her. "How does it feel?" "Wonderful," she said. "So tight. So comfortable. So helpless ... Maki told me you would do things like this to me. She said you were an expert sadist. What is that, really?" I was glad to explain: I didn't want her to try to stand up quite yet. She needed to get used to the boots. "The original sadist was a French aristocrat," I said. "The Marquis de Sade.[14] He wrote novels about the sexual pleasure a man gets from hurting girls." "Could I read the novels? Have they been translated into Japanese?" "Oh, yes. We could study them together. They're full of lovely ideas." "So you are a follower of this man Sade?" "Yes, in a way." "Why only in a way?" "I don't think he cared much whether his girls liked what he did to them. Of course I get pleasure from hurting a girl, but only when she enjoys it. _Wants_ me to hurt her." "That's called masochism, isn't it? Is that named after a girl - a girl like me?" "No - Masoch was a man.[15] He loved being whipped and humiliated by his mistress. He wrote a novel about it." "Ooh, I want to read _that_ book!" said Yuki with a naughty giggle. "I'm sure it would give me _lots_ of lovely ideas! Do men enjoy that? Being whipped? I didn't know. I must learn how to please them." "Some men do," I said shortly. "But masochism is mostly a girl's pleasure." I had no intention of letting Yuki practice on me - though one day she would have to add that skill to her repertoire and I would have to find her a lover who enjoyed being whipped by a gorgeous young girl in nothing but high heels and a few scraps of leather and latex ... yes, picturing it like that I wondered for a moment if I might let her try it on me after all ... one should always be open to new experiences and Yuki would look so enchanting dressed as a dominatrix or _sadisu-chan_[16] brandishing a whip and ordering me to kiss her feet ... Enough! She leant back in my arms with a contented sigh. "And am I a masochist?" she asked teasingly. "Yes, darling. Look how aroused you are by wearing these beautifully tight boots!" I ran a finger along her cunt and showed her the glistening love-juice before licking it. "That shows you have what it takes to be a masochist. Most Japanese girls do. But I am going to teach you. And you are going to become the loveliest little masochist there ever was, even in Japan. And you are going to be incredibly happy, and you're going to make all the sadistic lovers you will have incredibly happy too. Starting with me." "Oh, I am so lucky!" she said, stretching out in my arms. "And you're right, I _do_ love my boots. They're tight but like a second skin - they don't hurt me, it's like ... I don't know ... having my feet made love to. But I want to practice standing up and walking now!" I stood up, took her hands and pulled her up into a sitting position. "Try resting your feet normally on the floor," I said. She lowered her feet and arched them prettily till both her toes and her heels were in contact with the carpet. Then I raised her carefully till she was standing. "Mm'mm! Nice!" she said. "But I'm used to wearing high heels now. Thanks to you," she added hastily. "Not too tight?" "Oh, no! I just feel ... you know, _held_. Held ever so firmly, by an expert lover." "Try walking. I'll hold you." She took tiny steps across the room towards the big mirror, while I supported her with my arm round her pretty waist - soon to be so much prettier still. The thought gave me an erection. Yuki looked at herself approvingly in the mirror, then looked at me and giggled. She reached for my erection with her little hands and stroked it skilfully. Having made me almost, but not quite, lose control, she let go again. "Later," she said firmly. "Now let me walk by myself." I watched carefully as she walked to and fro, still with little steps but with growing confidence. She performed a little pirouette and almost lost her balance, but refused any help in recovering herself. Then she walked smartly up to the bed and picked up the corset. "How tight is it supposed to go?" I showed her how the edges were supposed to close and overlap round the back. "But that's not possible! Oh, I _want_ to! But I can't!" "You can, darling - trust me. We'll take it bit by bit. The boots fitted, didn't they?" "Ooh, yes! Let's start now." So I placed the corset loosely round her waist and began to lace the strong black tie gently round the metal hooks along the edges. Yuki watched in the mirror. Like the boots, the corset was lined with soft white leather which must have felt lovely against her skin. It left her bottom bare, of course, and discreetly gave her breasts just the slightest support. "Tighter!" she said, as soon as I had wound the tie to the end of the lines of hooks. I pulled the loops tighter, to the limit of what I had decided would be her first lesson. She let out little gasps and squeals of pleasure. I was enjoying it too: it was a lovely experience to imprison this pretty, willing victim in such a cruel and painful sheath - all the more so because it had been made specially for her and, when the time came to pull the laces to the ultimate degree of constriction, would shape her to perfection. Already I could see how the reshaping of her waist was matched by a sweet rounding of her breasts and bottom: her breasts were standing out even more firmly than usual, and her buttocks were parting slightly allowing her virgin arse-hole to pout prettily. As I worked I told her a little about my researches into Victorian sexuality: how the outfit she was so much enjoying wearing was based on what in those days a sweet young girl would have worn, showing herself shyly to the men who passed, hoping so much to find a lover who would be good to her and pleasure her the way she liked best ... I didn't explain what pleasures she was hoping for: that would be for later. "Ooh, how lovely!" said Yuki, meaning - I think - both the girls I was describing and her own image in the glass. "Will I be a girl like that? Will I find men to love me and pleasure me?" "Of course. If you are beautiful and sexy enough." "You will teach me, won't you? Ooh, make it tighter!" "That's tight enough for today. Tomorrow ..." She wriggled her bottom against me coquettishly. "Maki tells me she's having such a lovely time ... in the places where she works now. You know, stripping ... serving drinks ..." she stopped, and giggled. "Serving drinks nude, you mean," I finished for her. "That's right ... I'll soon be doing that too, won't I? Even more sexily than she does?" "I don't see why not. Men like very young girls, and you're younger than she is." "I know! That's why I want to start _now_! Maki's having all these wonderful lovers ... coming home still sticky with their cum and dreaming of the marvellous time she's had ... I'm ready, aren't I? I'm the sort of girl men want to fuck and fuck and fuck? Oh please ... why won't you take me to places where I can be sexy and nude and desirable, and be fucked non-stop?" We had had this argument before, of course. "Because you're not old enough to be fucked in public. It would be against the law." "But those girls you told me about ... those beautiful Victorian girls ... they were younger than me, weren't they?" "Oh, yes. They started at about twelve." "The lucky, lucky girls! How can I ever catch up?" She looked at me piteously over her shoulder. I could stand it no longer, and pulled the newly beautified bundle of lust hard against me. The crack in her arse seized my erection and caressed it. I took her firm breasts in my hands, stroking them gently and pinching the hard nipples. "Oh, you are beautiful!" I said to her in the mirror. "Yes ... but you'll make me even more beautiful, won't you? You'll make it really, really tight? So tight I can't bear it? Promise?" "I promise." I picked her up and carried her to the bed. As I arranged her on her elbows and knees her face was close to the little whip I had left on the pillow. "What's this?" "Just a pretty toy to please pretty girls," I said. She reached for it with one hand and shook out the three short lashes. The little metal studs glittered in the light. "Will I like it? Will it hurt?" "Yes," I said briefly, my mouth occupied with kissing and licking her arse-hole. "Will you whip me with it while we fuck?" "No," I said, my mouth sliding downwards so that my tongue could slurp up the love-juice pouring from her cunt. "You think I'm too young to be whipped?" she asked coyly. "No, but not just now. I'm busy." When I had drunk all the juice I wanted from her cunt, I entered it at last; and then lay on my back while she rode my cock, squealing with pleasure as she rose and fell, guided by my hands on her exquisitely constricted waist. At last we pulled apart and I came in her mouth, the way we both liked so much. Afterwards we sat in the living-room, she - constrained by her corset - very upright on a little stool, I sprawled on the carpet. "I never want to take them off," she said. "What, never? What about school?" "Oh, well ... I mean, when I'm with you. And my other lovers." "Of course not. If you like them so much. When you come to me, you'll put them on straightaway. First the boots, then the corset. Like today." "Every day a little tighter?" "That's right. We're working towards that corset party, remember?" "Oh, Heaven!" I reached for the remote control of the video unit. "Something I want you to see," I said. "Oooh, lovely! One of your sex videos?" "In a way." I clicked the buttons and the unit found what I wanted in its memory. After a few moments of blue screen it started. I heard her gasp and saw her cover her face with her hands - though not her eyes. The video showed her, naked, entering my torture-chamber. There was no sound but the camera watched her as, fascinated, she examined the whipping-frame and other equipment, and then moved to the table where my instruments were laid out. She picked up some nipple-clamps and tried the cruel jaws on her fingers. She didn't try them on her breasts: perhaps she didn't know what they were for. Well, all the more pleasure for me when the time came to attach them and enjoy her screams. She picked up a cane and whisked it a few times through the air: I hadn't realised she had been tempted by that. I made a mental note to introduce the cane into our whipping routines earlier than I do with most beginners. Then at last, as I had known she would, she picked up the cat-o'-nine-tails with the hard knots and metal points: she ran its long, slim lashes through her fingers, then at last plucked up her courage and swished its beautiful length round her naked bottom. I saw, rather than heard, her thrilled gasps of pleasure. At last she put the cat carefully back on the table, stood for a moment pensively within the whipping-frame, and then scampered quickly out of the room. The screen went blank again. Yuki turned to look at me as quickly as her corset would allow. Her hands were still covering her face, and her eyes gazed at me through her fingers, wide and frightened. "Didn't I tell you," I said slowly, "_not_ to go into that room?" Unable to speak, she could only nod. "Don't you think you deserve to be punished for disobeying me?" Another frightened nod. "Punished very severely?" No nod this time, just something between a sob and a gulp. Slowly she withdrew her hands. She looked at me with the mixture of excitement and thrilled terror which I so love to see in a girl facing her first serious whipping. "Answer my question." "Yes," she whispered. "Say it then. Say 'I deserve to be punished ...'" "I deserve to be ..." Another gulp, and then "... punished ..." "'Very, very severely.'" "Very ... very ... oh, _very_ severely! Please!" This was going delightfully. "Well then; you know where to go." She stood up gracefully. The corset and the high-heeled boots forced her to be graceful. "Oh, thank you ... thank you!" She walked in elegant little steps towards the door. Then she stopped and turned back to me. "The key ..." "The door is not locked," I said. "Not any more. It is always open for you now. You may go to that room as often as you want. Now you understand what will happen to you when you do." "Ohh ... ohh!" The ecstasy on her face told me what she wanted to say and I wanted to hear. Quickly she turned away and hastened to the experience she had been longing for. I made her wait for it, leaving a good five minutes before I followed her down the corridor. When I came in she was playing with the instruments laid out on the side-table. Severely I pointed to the whipping-frame in the centre of the room, and she quickly took up position. There were chains hanging from near the tops of the vertical bars, wrist-cuffs already attached to them. I fixed the cuffs firmly to her, leaving her arms hanging loosely for the moment. "I think ... yes," I said, hunting in the drawers and producing a broad collar in black leather. "Hold your head up." Soon she had no alternative: the supple leather buckled round her throat held her head in position. I smiled at her and kissed her. "Aren't you going to gag me?" she asked in a shy voice as we came apart. "No," I said. "You'd look pretty gagged, but I want to hear you scream. And don't worry, this room is sound-proof. No one is going to interfere - or try to rescue you. But you will wear this." I tied a blindfold firmly round her eyes. Then I couldn't resist slightly tightening her corset still further. I had promised myself to work slowly up to the final effect, little by little, session by session. But there was now room to tighten it further: her body was already adapting itself to the constriction. In any case, it was what we both wanted. I could tell it was what she wanted from the little murmurs of pleasure and gratitude with which she rewarded me. Then it was time to stretch her within the frame: I wound the chains up till she was almost dangling from the top, the tips of her toes and heels only just touching the ground. "Won't you tie my ankles to the frame too?" she said in a little breathy voice which was all she could manage from within the tight corset. "How do you know so much about bondage and restraint?" I asked. "Well, you know ... pictures ... in _manga_ comics."[17] "Oh, yes?" "The girls are so _beautiful_ when they're tied up ... completely helpless ... tight ... please do that to me." "I will. But for now I want your feet to be free. I want to see you dance for me." "Dance?" "When I whip you, you will wriggle, and skip about on tiptoe ... it will be very charming." "I see." "Another time I will tie you to the frame so tightly you cannot move a millimetre. And gag you, so you can't beg me to stop. Then I will whip you for hours. That will be charming too. For me, at least." "Oh, _yes_!" "But this time I want to hear you. Now, pay attention." I stroked and tickled her bottom gently. "Is that nice?" I asked. "Yes, yes!" came the reply. I did the same to her breasts. "Is _that_ nice?" "Oh, _yes_!" I ran my fingertips lightly along the line of her juicy pussy. "And that?" "Lovely!" I raised my hand and without warning slapped her bottom with all my strength. "Is that nice?" No answer - just a gasp. I did it again. "I asked, is that nice?" "Oh ... oh, _yes_!" I stroked her pussy gently with the fingers of one hand, and pinched one nipple hard with the others. "Is that nice?" "Yes ... lovely! Please do it again!" I did. Then I returned to gentle strokings of her bottom and breasts and neck, insisting on hearing her reaction each time. After several repetitions, I picked up a whippy little beginner's cane from the instrument table and without warning swished it down hard on her arse. Before I could ask for her reaction, she let out a scream. Of pleasure? Of pain? I doubt if she knew herself. "Was it nice?" No answer, just heavy panting. I gave her another identical stroke with the little cane. "Was it nice?" I asked again, in exactly the same voice. "Oh ... oh, yes! _Yes_! Please do it again!" "Not yet." I wanted her to wait for it, long for it. I stroked her bottom gently, knowing that a light touch on her burning buttocks would stimulate the almost unbearable tingling which must now be delighting her. After a while I removed the blindfold. She blinked in the bright light, and murmured, "Oh! oh! thank you! That was _so_ lovely! But _please_ don't stop!" I said nothing. Instead I knelt down and fixed her ankles to the lower pair of cuffs, then tightened the chains so that she was pulled into a star shape. We were making such good progress I thought we could move on to the helpless restraint I had earlier promised her. I looked at her thoughtfully as she stood suspended in the whipping-frame. I was tempted to tighten her corset still further, but contented myself with removing her collar and replacing it with a tighter and higher one. "I've taken off the blindfold because I want you to see what I am going to do to you," I said. "You can have plenty of time to imagine what each instrument will feel like, and look forward to it. Or not, as you prefer. I shan't gag you either: you are free to beg for mercy if you wish. Or beg me to whip you harder. I don't mind: I'll enjoy it either way. It won't make any difference. I shall stop when I think you've had enough. And when _I've_ had enough." She said nothing: she swallowed a few times and was clearly coming to terms with her new situation. "You must learn to beg, though," I said, sitting down in the one comfortable chair holding a cane. It was a full-sized cane this time, not the little one for beginners I had used on her so far. I could see her eyes following it as I swished it to and fro. "There are two kinds of sadists," I explained, taking my time, knowing that she was burning to feel the cane on her sensitive bottom. "When you start with a new lover, it's very important to find out quickly which kind he is. Then you will please him more and he will reward you. The first kind likes to punish a girl for doing something wrong. So you must do little things wrong, make little mistakes - nothing serious, just enough to give him a reason to punish you. And of course you implore him not to, you beg for mercy, to be forgiven. He will love that. It will make him want to punish you all the more, and you will love _that_." She could hardly nod or ask questions, but I could see she was attending. "The second kind of sadist likes to whip a girl for no reason - except that he wants to. So with that sort of lover you must be perfect. There's nothing he likes more than torturing a girl who has done nothing wrong. So you beg to be told why he is doing these things to you when you have done everything you can to please him. And he will tell you your desperate begging is what pleases him most." She was listening all right. "Which kind of sadist do you think I am? The kind that likes to punish girls for being naughty, or the kind that likes to torture innocent girls?" She swallowed again a few times, then managed to say, "I think you like torturing innocent girls." "Right!" I said, delighted at her perception. "And I can tell you innocent girls love being tortured by me." There was another pause. "Please don't hurt me," she said in a little voice. "Oh, yes, Yuki, I shall hurt you. A _lot_," I said standing up. "Not because you deserve it, or have done anything wrong, but because it will please me." "With ..." Her eyes were again fixed on the cane I was still idly swishing to and fro. "No, not with this. Or not yet. As a special reward for being a good girl, I shall give you a little present." I put the cane down on the table and picked up the little pair of nipple-clamps which had so fascinated her on her earlier visit to this room. They looked like short clothes-pegs, but were equipped with specially strong springs and sharp metal jaws, made for sale in sex-shops. Yuki's nipples were already fully erect, showing the hot desire boiling inside her.[18] I carefully attached one clamp to her left breast. She let out a sort of long gasp of surprise and pleasure. "Like it? Do you want the other one?" "Ohh, yes! _Yes_!" I stroked her right breast tenderly, then fitted the other clamp neatly to the nipple. Yuki gulped and I prepared to undo the tight collar quickly, fearing she might choke. But she found her voice. "Oh, _beautiful_ ... please ... always!" I understood what she meant, but had no intention of letting her wear the clamps permanently. They would be another pleasure she could beg for prettily, and which I would grant her only when I chose. One day I, or another lover, would buy her more sophisticated clamps which she could wear discreetly under her clothes - or without clothes - whenever she wanted. But it was nice that she liked the bite of these simple beginner's clamps so much - and she looked sweet decorated with them. I decided to let her wear them a little longer. I adjusted them, making sure they were fitted as snugly as possible, the sharp teeth tormenting her with their intense bite, and then picked up the long cat-o'-nine-tails decorated with cruel knots and tinkling little metal tips. I dangled its elegant length before her eyes, smoothing the lashes through my ?ngers. "Ready?" She was ready all right. == Well, that was how I prepared Yuki for her corseted sex-party. Each evening we dressed her in her Victorian corset and little boots, pulling the laces a little tighter each time till at last she could display a perfect figure enhanced by little high-heeled feet. And then we went lovingly together to the torture-chamber, she dancing happily ahead of me, for ever more elaborate sessions with increasingly sophisticated equipment. She soon learned to love, and beg for, accessories such as nipple-clamps, clit-clamps and dildos with electric shock attachments. Of course I normally didn't gag her, and her screams of agony and pleas for yet more pain as I whipped her harder, gradually increased the power of the electric shocks and set the equipment to complicated random patterns are among of my happiest memories of our relationship. Yuki adored the electric clamps and insisted on wearing them when we were fucking between whipping sessions. "Do you think I could wear them when we are out together?" she asked. "I'll have to see if I can find a powerful enough miniaturised battery pack," I said doubtfully. "And a radio control." "Oh, _yes_! Oh, please do! Then I could wear them under my clothes, clipped to my breasts and pussy, and you could turn them on when I wasn't expecting it, and I'd have to pretend nothing was happening to me ... Oooh! ... Now, whip me again. Or, no - cane me. With that beautiful flexible cane with the tiny metal studs. I _love_ him! I'll scream for mercy, but you won't listen, will you?" Yuki's appearance at the corset sex-party was a great success - at least from her point of view. Her perfect figure was greatly admired and she had a wonderful evening. The host of the party was, as I had always known, a very active sadist and soon produced his collection of whips and canes for all to use as they wished. Yuki was squealing with joy for hours on end, and we were almost the last to leave. "Oh, that was lovely!" she said. "So many wonderful men ... and I've been asked for _lots_ of dates!" I am sure she gave - and received - full satisfaction on those dates, because that was almost the last I saw of Yuki, or of my expensive Victorian corset and boots. Well, they had been made specially to fit her, and fit her very beautifully they did. == The other evening, having made no special plans, I wandered into a strip-club which had opened in one of the new hot areas of the Tokyo night-scene. It was called, in English, The Happy Pussy - how _do_ the Japanese think up these names? - and was a "relaxed" club of a type which has recently become popular. I had written about these clubs for my editors. There were no stage or curtains: just a big circular platform with a discreet walkway to the backstage area; and instead of the usual theatre-style seating for the spectators there were casually arranged groups of chairs, interspersed with carpeted areas where the audience could stand or spread themselves out on the floor. The atmosphere was pleasant and I noticed approvingly that there were girls in the audience - girls who seemed to have come in groups by themselves rather than being brought by their lovers. A girl was stripping on the circular stage. She still had on her bra and - presumably - panties, though it was impossible to tell yet as she was still teasing the audience by pretending to be shy about removing her microskirt. Before watching her act I wandered over to the bar at one side of the big room. The girl who served me was nude apart from tiny side-tie panties. She was tall with a pretty figure and I ran my eyes over her approvingly, imagining briefly the pleasure of undoing the little bows on her hips. She smiled demurely in recognition of my interest. "Are you on stage this evening?" I asked, after taking a first taste of my drink. "Oh, yes!" she said. "In about twenty minutes, I expect." "I look forward to it." "So do I!" she said confidentially, with a dismissive gesture towards her little panties. "So much nicer without ... don't you think?" "Oh, yes. For both of us." She smiled her demure smile again. "Only on stage?" I asked. "Or afterwards, too?" She knew what I meant. "Of course! Once we're nude, we stay nude. For everyone to enjoy. That's the rule here." "Nice." I looked her over again. "But now I must go and watch your colleague." "Oh, Yuki? Yes, she's quite new here. But she's very talented." Yuki? I thought, running through the card-index I keep in my memory. Oh yes, Yuki! "See you later," I said to the girl behind the bar, and wandered back to stand close to the stage. It was Yuki all right. She moved gracefully in her high heels, just as I had taught her. By now she was down to a tiny g-string and was teasing herself the way a good stripper does, obviously as keen to remove it as her audience were to see her do it. She moved round the platform, showing herself off to everyone, but kept coming back to me. I don't know if she recognised me, or was just responding to my obvious admiration - but soon she beckoned me up to join her. As I ascended the shallow steps at the edge of the platform, I heard appreciative murmurs from all around me. Japanese men are not often jealous or possessive about girls: one is as good as another, and the next best thing to fucking a pretty girl is watching her being well fucked by someone else. She stood with her back to me, her head against my shoulder as I fondled her breasts. I noticed that she had had her breasts pierced and was wearing little rings firmly fixed in her nipples. That was new. I moved my hands down to her hips. The little ties of her g-string came apart and I tossed the scrap of cloth aside. She pulled away from me and, for a minute, danced naked for my pleasure and that of the audience. Then she returned to me, helped me out of my clothes and took me across to the couch which stood at the head of the stage, across the passageway leading to the backstage area. She knelt on the floor leaning against it, offering me her beautifully firm arse. I knelt behind her, stroking her bottom, then rubbing my erection along her crack. How well I remembered whipping that lovely arse! I was sure she remembered it too, and had been enchanting her lovers ever since with her sweet masochistic longings. "You want me to take you there?" I whispered. "Oh, yes _please_! Will you? That's the _best_ way." "I need a little lubrication ..." I scrambled up to sit on the couch. Now she was on the floor in front of me, coating my cock with her saliva. Then she was on the couch, knees tucked up neatly so that her delightful rump was clearly presented to me and our audience. I stroked it. "Wouldn't you like me to whip it?" I asked softly. She twisted her face round and looked up at me in surprise. "I'd _love_ you to!" she said. "How did you know? But no ... not here ..." "Maybe later. We could have a date ..." "Mm'mm!" she replied as she buried her face again in the cushions of the couch. I could feel rather than see how the audience had gathered closely round the stage to enjoy my penetration of her anus. Supporting myself with one hand, I held my erection with the other and directed it towards her tiny hole. In ... oh yes, in it went! Her tight passage expanded, gripping me as I slowly entered, her muscles rippling deliciously along my length. Who on earth had taught her _that_ trick, the lovely little slut? She was squealing with happiness and I was groaning with lust: I had planned to pull out after a while and finish over her face and breasts, but there was no way I could hold back that long. I thrust in and out as she screamed and begged for more, for me to penetrate her yet more deeply. I was supporting myself on my elbows now, my hands free to caress her prettily pierced breasts, occasionally adding to her pleasure by pinching her erect nipples as hard as I could. I came, my shouts blending with those of the audience. I remembered that I was there to give them pleasure as well as myself and Yuki. I pulled slowly out, letting the creamy cum pour from her anus and down between her buttocks. Before it could drip onto the cushions I caught it on my fingers, then held my hand out for the audience to see and for her to lick. At last we wiped each other clean with the damp cloths stacked beside the couch, and after a final exchange of kisses and endearments I scrambled into my clothes and off the stage. Yuki disappeared and a couple of girls from the audience ran up onto the stage, helping each other out of their clothes before starting a lesbian love scene. That's what I like about these new-style "relaxed" clubs: the professional girls and the audience are both part of the show and take turns to do their thing on stage.[19] I wandered round the edge of the platform on my way back towards the bar. Yuki had come down off the stage into the audience - still delightfully nude, of course - and was kneeling on the carpet surrounded by a group of men. She had chosen two and was stroking their cocks, one with each hand, as she looked up at their faces, smiling and laughing. As I watched, she twisted round to face one of them, taking his erection into her mouth. Her hand, no longer occupied in stroking him, slid slowly round his hips caressing his arse, her middle finger slowly and deeply penetrating his anus: I knew that was what she was doing because I had taught her to do it myself. Her other hand, behind her back, was still stroking the other man's cock, keeping him hard and ready for her. She would need him soon enough. "My turn on stage now!" said a girl's voice cheerfully. I turned and saw the girl from behind the bar approaching me. She was now wearing a bra under a transparent black blouse, long silver gloves matching her silver high heels, and a tight microskirt in black satin. I looked her over again. She was very elegant under her pretty, tarty clothes. My balls tingled and I wanted very much to see her nude. She smiled, coquettishly this time rather than demurely. She held out one gloved hand. "Come and help me?" "Sure." "I'd like to be nude for you. I saw what you did to Yuki. It was nice. Will you be nice to me?" Another coquettish smile. I wondered what she would find "nice". She would let me know soon enough. "Of course." I took her hand. Before walking up onto the stage with her, ready to help her out of her clothes and then penetrate her lovingly wherever she liked it best, I looked back once more at Yuki. I could just see her between the legs of the men surrounding her. She was now taking three at once, her clever little hands stroking two while a third cock filled her mouth. Of course she's a paid professional now, I thought, but she's obviously enjoying every moment - if she isn't, she wouldn't be working here. As I stepped up onto the platform I could see across to the audience on the other side. The two amateurs who had performed the lesbian act were kneeling on the floor being initiated into the pleasures of _bukkake_, [20] squealing and begging for more as their pretty faces and plump breasts were coated with shot after shot of cum. They too were learning to enjoy public sex, and would soon be back for more: perhaps one day I would see them here as professionals. I wondered if anyone would pay attention to what my girl and I were about to do on stage. Well, we would enjoy ourselves whether they watched or not. Everywhere in the big club-room there was a heady atmosphere of lust given and received; but I could detect another aroma mingled with the desire. It was delicate and not easy to identify, but at last the answer came to me. It was Happiness. FOOTNOTES [12] Of course fetish footwear is another matter. A girl squealing with joy as she dances for you, taking tiny steps with her little feet exquisitely moulded into specially constructed, delightfully tight shoes or boots with impossibly high heels - now _that_ is a very sophisticated pleasure for both the girl and her lovers. But pain lovingly embraced for its beauty and sexual stimulation is one thing: shoes that just don't fit properly are quite another! [13] Of course the pleasures of the tight corset had been known long before Victorian times. Take for example the English aristocrat Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. She accompanied her husband to the Turkish Empire when he was appointed Ambassador to Constantinople from 1716 to 1718. In one of her letters she records the surprise of Turkish ladies on discovering her corset when they were undressing before taking a bath together: they thought it was a cruel punishment inflicted on her by her husband. "They believed I was locked up in that machine, and that it was not in my own power to open it, which contrivance they attributed to my husband." They were of course, in a way, right, though they probably did not realise that her pleasure in wearing it was doubtless as great as his in seeing her in it. [14] Donatien-Alphonse-Francois, Marquis de Sade (1740-1814) is, of course, the most celebrated pornographic writer who ever lived - though his novels have more intellectual content than is often assumed. Try _Justine_ and _Juliette_. _Les 120 Journees de Sodom_ (_The 120 Days of Sodom_) is a sort of catalogue of sex. The sexual pleasures the characters enjoy get kinkier and kinkier as the novel progresses. Treat it as a kind of Kinkiness Quotient (KQ) Test. When de Sade's ideas stop sounding fun and start being _yuk_!, you've reached your KQ level. [15] Although the name of the Austrian writer Leopold von Sacher-Masoch (1836-1895) is permanently linked with that of the Marquis de Sade, and the sexual pleasure named after him is as well-known and widely enjoyed as that named after de Sade, he is surprisingly little known. Unlike de Sade, he has no entry in the _Encylopaedia Britannica_, for example. His best-known novel, describing the hero's delight in being whipped and humiliated by an adored mistress (at least until she deceives him and he takes his revenge) is _Venus im Pelz_ (_Venus in Furs_). Try it! [16] There is a difference. A Japanese dominatrix does the same sort of things as a Western one does, though of course she is more beautiful and I at least find it easier to fantasise about worshipping her. A _sadisu-chan_ is cute and sweet, tickles you more gently with her whip, and really likes it when later you seize the whip from her and take your revenge. [17] Many young Japanese, girls as well as boys, have their sexual imaginations educated and stimulated by the graphic stories in _manga_ comic books, which often show in full detail the ecstasy of young girls delightfully bound and having the most exquisitely painful and kinky things done to them. [18] Anyone who thinks binding and whipping a Japanese girl is cruel, or that her resistance and pitiful pleas for mercy are genuine rather than feigned to stimulate her lover to greater efforts, need only look at her breasts. A girl cannot control the erection of her nipples, and their state is a clear indication of the degree of her erotic excitement. [19] Well, of course good strip-clubs always encouraged that in some degree. The strippers would invite members of the audience to join them on stage; and if there were girls present the MC would declare "amateur night" and give them the chance to show what they could do. But the new-style "relaxed" clubs aim at the atmosphere of a private sex-party, with the professional girls making sure everyone has a good time - and especially encouraging inexperienced girls in the audience to discover that public nudity and sex are a natural part of life which every girl has a right to enjoy. [20] Literally "splash", a ritual marking a young girl's initiation into public sex. A group of men take turns to masturbate over her, coating her face and breasts with their cum. It's good fun, but more exciting for the girl than for the men, I think. A pretty variation is when the girl invites the men to come one by one in her mouth, holds the cum there for a moment then lets it slide out into a glass, and ends the session by slowly drinking the mixture. Many girls have told me the first experience of this climax, the men cheering them on, gave them a huge orgasm. [Next in Part 13: Chapter XIII: Chiyoko: Training Session] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams