WORK IN PROGRESS 05 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 05: WORK IN PROGRESS BY BOB WILLIAMS ASSISTED BY MEGUMI, NORIKO, FUJIKO, AYUMI, SAEKO, MARIKO, TAMA, MAIKO, SHIZUE, MIE, AYAKO, TOMO, YUU AND RUMI PART 05 CHAPTER V Perfect Harmony This piece began as a description of the work of a _gaijin_ friend of mine. He is a wealthy man and can afford to rent a much larger apartment than I can. And he lets young girls live there rent-free while they pursue their aim of entering the sex industry. Unfortunately my editors scoffed at the idea. They wanted articles about the girls, not their landlord. So I reworked a piece I had in stock in which I had tried - yet again - to find the words to describe what a girl feels when extreme sexual stimulus propels her into a state of mental orgasm. But as you will see, I didn't abandon my first idea completely. The moment is approaching: the moment which makes me tingle all over and feel more fully alive than at any other time. The moment when I shall be completely nude displaying myself before an enthusiastic and lustful audience. The feeling I first experienced when I was just fifteen and taken by giggling school-friends on a birthday treat to a strip-club, and allowed myself to be persuaded to step up on stage and give an amateur performance. The feeling I have sought to experience again every night of the two years since. Tonight I am to feel it - and enjoy all the wonderful things that will follow - in one of my favourite clubs: discreet, modern, patronised by handsome and sexually skilful men. I am performing on a circular stage a few steps above the audience, and almost surrounded by my admirers: there is just a narrow access left and right to backstage behind me. For some reason - I can't now remember why - I decided to strip from a simple white dress. Usually I like to wear, and then not wear, something glittery and tarty designed to add spice to my admirers' simmering lust - and to my own. But some lover had suggested to me that a seventeen-year-old girl could look just as arousing playing the innocent virgin as she did dressed as a teenaged slut. So I had tiptoed onto the stage wearing a demure white dress - halter-necked and bare-backed, with a short skirt, but still the kind of thing I could innocently wear window-shopping along the Ginza, pretending to be startled by the interest and desire I aroused. Judging by their applause and cheers the audience had enjoyed watching me undo the bow of the halter-neck, letting the front fall to expose my firm young breasts, and then reach behind to pull down the short zip fastener and ease the tight skirt over my bottom, down my thighs and off. I had added long white gloves to my costume - something I would not normally wear on a daytime shopping expedition but entirely suitable, I thought, when dressing up a little for a sexy evening. I could of course have left them on, relying on the way gloves can enhance a girl's nudity. But I wanted to be completely nude! I had slowly eased off the left glove, descending the steps and leaning forward to drape it round the neck of an elderly man in the front row, pulling him forward by both ends till he was kissing my breasts. Then it was the turn of the right glove: I teased a younger and more handsome man, dangling it so that the fingers tickled his face, and tempting him to grab hold of them and try to pull me down the steps towards him. But I let go of my end at the last moment, skipping away from him and leaving him the glove as a souvenir. I danced round the stage, pirouetting on my slender white high-heels. The great moment of prickling, life-enhancing lust was now nearly upon me. All I had left to take off was the tiny white triangle coyly hiding my neatly trimmed hair and my two lower love-holes. My fingers began to play with the almost invisible threads holding it up by bows on my hips. Now, yes - now! But then disaster - in my excitement dressing for my act I had somehow tangled up one of the bows, and pulling at the threads just made the muddle worse. I was of course standing at the very front of the stage, wanting to give the audience the best possible view of my complete nakedness. And then - a man in the front row saw my trouble, stepped up onto the stage, and deftly disentangled the bow. The tiny scrap of unwanted clothing fell away, and he stood beside me as I posed, the g-string dangling from his fingers. The audience cheered. The atmosphere was shimmering with sex. I leant forward and took the other end of the g-string. For a while we stood together, the little cloth stretched between us, while I continued posing and showing myself off. Then I turned, letting the strings pass over my shoulder, and began a march of triumph round the circular stage, pulling my captive behind me. When we returned to the front I let go, and snuggled against him, wriggling my crotch against his and kissing him deeply as one does one's first lover at a party when the time has come for the girls to go nude and choose. His hands held me firmly along my back, then I felt one move slowly downwards, stroking and tickling my arse. I moved my feet apart so that his fingers could explore my love-holes. Oh, how wonderful! I thought - the public nudity of a strip-show combined with the intimate lovemaking of a sex-party. Suddenly he moved and picked me up - his right arm round my back, his left under my knees. I flung my right arm round his strong shoulders, pushing downwards so that he had to lift me higher and show off his prize. I glanced around the stage: yes, the couch on which I would normally be fucked by an invited member of the audience was now in position and illuminated. My little g-string was nowhere to be seen: either he had pushed it into a pocket or a souvenir-hunter in the audience had grabbed it. It didn't matter: I never wanted to wear it again. I never wanted to wear _anything_ ever again. I am nude in a man's arms, I thought, and never want to be anything else. I kicked my legs sexily, and waved at the audience. Among the cheers I heard someone call out a delightfully indecent suggestion of what should be done to me. "Oh, yes - _please_!" I said, waving and kissing my hand in the direction of the call: "You next!" My lover - I already thought of him as that - knew what to do: he carried me over to the couch waiting for us and deposited me gently onto it, lying on my front with my face and hands resting on the raised end. As he quickly removed his clothes I wriggled upwards so that my knees were tucked under me and my arse was pushed upwards. Moments later he was standing in front of me, his erection pointing at my face. It was so thoughtful of him: like most girls I like to take a look at a cock before it is thrust into my cunt or arse - and this was a lovely one: long but not too thick, straight and firm, just made to pleasure a girl. I suppose my sexual experience has been typical for a modern Japanese girl: I started sucking cocks at fourteen and lost my first virginity soon after that. As I have told you, I had my first experience of public nudity and sex at fifteen and if I have been at all unusual it was only in the overwhelming impact of that experience. From then on I spent as much time as I could in strip-clubs, "apron nude" cafes, nude hostess bars, and of course at sex-parties. It was only very recently though, yielding to the persuasion of a gentle lover at a party, that I surrendered my second virginity and felt for the first time that wonderful tube of flesh snaking up my anal passage, pushing before it that unique, glorious blend of pain and pleasure. I had allowed myself to repeat it only occasionally. But I had been anally fucked enough times now to have acquired that very special tickle deep inside me which can be reached and gently scratched only by a loving cock - scratched away to provide blessed relief for just a little while before returning even more maddeningly with its insistent message "You know you want it again! I shall never leave you in peace until you invite another lover to satisfy me!" But first my lover's cock was demanding entry to another of my holes. I opened my mouth wide and he plunged it smoothly into me. In my position on the couch I had no difficulty swallowing the head and it was soon part of the way down my throat while I pleasured the shaft with my tongue and lips. It moved slowly in and out as my lover gasped and moaned with satisfaction. All too soon, afraid of coming before reaching his final goal, he withdrew. As the audience cheered him on, and I begged him to fuck me more, he moved round to my other end. I felt my buttocks pulled gently apart. Would he enter my anus at once? No, first it was the turn of my cunt. The glorious deep penetration which is my reward for giving my lovers my nakedness to enjoy was mine again and had I not known there was more wondrous satisfaction to come I would have begged him to remain there, to love my cunt for ever ... but he knew better. At last his cock, dripping with my saliva and cunt-juice, was demanding entry into my anus. I begged it to open for him, for its master, but as usual it would not: it insisted on being violated. Through the tiny rosebud, through the tight ring of muscle, into the narrow sheath which was its ordained home, the wonderful sword forced its way, seizing me, satisfying me, making me scream with agony and bliss. At last it was over. The cock swelled as the bolts of hot cum forced their way up, up, feeling as if they would shoot right through me and burst from my mouth. Once again I was complete; a girl whose three love-holes had been penetrated, violated, adored. He withdrew. I felt his kind, firm fingers wipe my arse and cunt with one of the damp cloths placed beside the couch. Then he was gone. Carefully I stood up. I gave the cheering audience a tired wave. I was supposed now to leave the stage by the left exit at the back: looking round I could see the next act, two pretty Filipinas, already naked and with their arms round each other, waiting eagerly to make their entrance from the other side. It would not be fair to hold up their performance, which I knew began with some pretty lesbianism. But I was not finished yet. Pulling myself together, I tiptoed on my high heels to the front of the stage and down the steps. I knew roughly where I was going - _had_ to go. "Was it you who wanted to fuck my arse?" I asked in a sweet, little-girl voice as I stopped in what I hoped was the right place. A tall handsome _gaijin_ rose at once, while others jokingly called out, "I did!" "No, I did!" "Let me!" But I knew it was he. I looked at him, then looked coyly down, and said, still in my little-girl voice, "Please! Oh, yes - please!" He pushed past the others sitting in his row and joined me in the aisle. I snuggled up against him as I had done with my previous lover, stroking his body with mine and kissing him as I would a man I was tempting at a party. As we pulled apart he seemed to want to take me back up onto the stage. But the Filipinas were occupying it with their pretty lesbian love-making: it was their moment of happiness. Soon - I had seen their show often - men would join them from the audience and pull them apart from each other: then each girl would be gloriously raped as she struggled and pretended to object, calling to her friend to rescue her from the overpowering joys of multiple male penetration which she was pretending to experience for the first time ... it was a delightful show and I had no part in it. "This way, please," I murmured to my new lover, "there is room at the back for us to ... to ..." We moved to the carpeted area beyond the seats. I glanced back and saw that two of the men he had been sitting with, one Japanese and another _gaijin_, were joining us. Yes, yes, I thought, three men, three cocks, all three holes at once, oh yes - please! But they made no move to pull me down onto the carpet. "Wouldn't it be better - more comfortable," asked the man who had wanted to fuck my arse, "if we went to, well, my place ... more room and, you know, more private ..." I hesitated. It was an attractive idea. I had finished my show for the evening and there was nothing to keep me. I had thought of going on to a nude hostess bar and finishing the evening by being fucked there, but I had no obligation to do that. He had struck a wrong note however by mentioning privacy. I enjoy sex best when it is _not_ private. "It's not far," he added persuasively. I made my mind up. "All right," I said. "Let's go." "What about your clothes ... your dress?" "I don't want it!" I declared, starting to move towards the exit, "I want to stay like this. Always." I stood on my highest tiptoes and kissed him. "Nude. Oh, _nude_. For you ... for _all_ of you. _Always_!" He put his arm round me, laughed and led me to the exit. But before we left the building he took off his jacket and draped it round my shoulders. It fell almost to my knees. "Just for a few minutes ..." he said. His car was parked a few streets away: a big foreign car. He unlocked it and the other _gaijin_ opened the rear door for me. I slipped off the jacket and handed it to him, flirted naked in the open street for a moment, then climbed in. The leather upholstery felt cool and stimulating against my skin. As the car moved off, the two men who were not driving pulled out their mobiles and began calling friends. "What are you doing just now? And when you're finished with her? Why don't you come round to Harry's apartment? We've a real treat here ... sure you'd like a piece of her!" I shivered with excited anticipation. The car turned into a side-street and then down a slope into a garage. My host helped me out politely and offered me his jacket again. I shook my head. To be seen nude in the lobby and elevator of this high-class apartment block would be a sweet preliminary to the delights in store for me. The apartment was large and luxurious - _very_ large by the standards I was used to. "I think I'd like to take a shower before ... before we ..." I said. "Of course! And we can be preparing," said my host. His arm round my waist, he led me down a corridor, past several doors, and into a large master-bedroom. He opened the bathroom door for me. I removed my white high-heels and stepped inside. The facilities were as luxurious as the rest of the apartment, and I spent long minutes enjoying the needle-sprays of the shower. At last, refreshed, lightly scented, and ready for anything, I returned to the main room. On the way, I could not resist peeping into the other rooms. There was no one in either, but each was furnished with two single beds and there were girls' clothes scattered around. Interesting, I thought. The lights had been lowered, throbbing background music was playing, and - most important - all three men were naked. "What a lovely apartment, Harry-san," I said. "How do you know my name?" asked my host. "Oh, I heard your friends telephoning - asking people to join us here." "Of course. You don't mind, do you?" "Mind? I love it. I adore sex with strangers ... orgies ... gang-rape." "And what is _your_ name?" "Saeko." "And how old are you, Saeko-san?" For a moment I was tempted to pretend to be younger. Lots of men are stimulated by the thought that they are fucking an underage girl. But that would mean acting the inexperienced but eager virgin, and that belonged to an earlier stage of the evening. I had already presented myself in my true capacity as a sex-crazed teen slut. "Just seventeen," I said demurely. "And what do they pay you to appear at that club?" "Oh, nothing!" I said, surprised that he should not have guessed. "I do it for fun, because I love doing it so much!" With one hand I had reached for Harry's splendid erection, fondling it, stroking it, longing to feel it somewhere inside me. I looked round and took another cock in my spare hand, then smiled at them all. "Who lives in the other rooms?" I asked as innocently as I could. "Ah-ha! You looked, did you?" said Harry. "Feminine curiosity!" said the other _gaijin_ with a laugh. The Japanese man said nothing. "Well, I have lots of room here," said Harry, "and I can have up to four girls sharing the spare bedrooms." "We call them Harry's Harem," said Japanese man, speaking at last. "Are they here now?" I asked. "Oh no. They are out stripping, fucking ... working hard. They're trying to make a start in the sex industry. Lovely girls. In fact there are only two just now - I have two vacancies." Suddenly I understood why I had been brought here. One of the reasons. "I charge them no rent," Harry was saying carefully, wanting me to understand. "It's good to have them here. I adore girls like that, and I love helping them start on their careers. Of course, when they aren't out looking for work, I expect them to take care of me. And any friends I choose to give them to." "Oh, _lucky_ girls!" I said softly. I let go of the two cocks I was holding, then knelt on the carpet. The three erections came closer, pointing at my face. I gathered them together in my hands, wanting to stroke them, kiss them - worship them. "Can't we start?" I asked. "We don't have to wait for the others, do we?" The next two hours were so complex and yet so continuous that I cannot describe them in detail. I think six or seven men had me as I lay on one of the big black-leather couches, but men came and went so there may have been more. I was vaguely aware of two girls coming in, stripping and joining the fun, but that didn't reduce the intensity of what was happening to me. What I am sure of is that all three of my holes were constantly occupied by beautiful thrusting cocks: as soon as one had finally achieved climax and filled me with lovely creamy cum it withdrew and another took its place. With my mouth constantly filled I was unable to express my happiness or beg my wonderful team of lovers to fuck me harder and harder, but they knew what I wanted and gave it to me in the fullest measure I had ever experienced. The feeling of being on trial, of being considered for a place in Harry's Harem, added to my joy and to my determination to give satisfaction. At last it was over - for the moment. Almost fainting with joy I was helped along the corridor again to the bathroom off the master bedroom. When I once again left it, refreshed, my holes emptied and longing to be filled again, I found Harry and several men waiting for me in the bedroom. A metal bar was hanging from the ceiling in the open space below the big bed. "Oh, that was so lovely!" I said, in my innocent little-girl voice. "Yes, it was," said Harry. "But it's not over yet. You weren't expecting it to be over, were you?" "No ..." I said. "Yes ... that is, please do more lovely things to me." "Oh, we will, we will! Come and stand here, near the bar. And put these on." From the bed he picked up two pairs of cuffs in black leather and quickly snapped them onto my wrists and ankles. I knew of such things, of course, but had never worn bondage gear before. Two men took my hands, lifted them, and fixed the wrist-cuffs to the ends of the suspended bar. Then the ends of a metal stretcher, a little over a metre long, were locked to my ankle-cuffs, forcing my feet apart. I felt the ceiling-bar slowly rise, till I was held helpless but comfortable, in a star shape. "Oh, very pretty!" said one of the men. "But aren't we planning to decorate her? You know, nipple-clamps, nose-hooks, gags - that sort of thing?" "I think not," said Harry's voice from behind me. "I believe this will be her first experience of being whipped. I want her to learn to love that. Refinements can come later." He walked round to face me. "Saeko, do you have any idea what we are going to do to you now?" "No," I said after swallowing a few times. "But I am sure it will be lovely ... if _you_ do it. Whatever it is. Please do it to me." "Very well. I shall start with this." He picked up what I now know was a birch cane, thin and flexible, and flashed it through the air in front of my eyes. It seemed to hum as it moved. For a moment I felt frightened, wondering if I had done the right thing in agreeing to receive this new sexual experience. There was no time for second thoughts. He stepped behind me again, and then the most agonising pain I had ever felt - could not even imagine feeling - struck my bottom in a line of white-hot fire. And again. And again. Twelve strokes, I think, though I was beyond counting. Then it stopped. I know now how clever of him it was to give me time to absorb the new experience. The white-hot lines blended, as I hung there between ceiling and floor, into a throbbing glow which flooded from my bottom through my whole body. My screams and cries for mercy changed to gasps of astonishment and pleas that this sublime experience should last for ever. I was vaguely aware of the kindly laughter from the men surrounding me and of Harry issuing instructions. I know now that the men - my wonderful, thoughtful lovers - were sharing out whips and cats of all kinds: broad lashes, thin knotted lashes, plaited leather lashes - lovely instruments designed to give joy to the masochist I had suddenly become ... the masochist I had always been without knowing it. Before the wonderful glow from the cane had time to fade the lashes began to kiss my bottom, my thighs, then my breasts and stomach. From time to time my loving, beloved Harry paused the whipping so that he could renew the white-hot fire of my arse by caning me again. Then I hung in my bonds moaning and writhing as my whole being was again consumed by the wonderful smouldering glow. When the others judged the moment was right, their cats and whips began again to delight me - but after a while I no longer knew in detail what my lovers were doing to me. I was lost in a world of perfect ecstasy which I had never suspected could possibly exist. == I was floating, weightless, in bliss. I was conscious of the throbbing heat of my love-holes and the exquisite glow of my bottom. But whatever I was feeling came from somewhere far beyond those localised sensations. It was as if one half of my being was fulfilled by the other half - and yet it was more than that. From somewhere a long way away I could hear voices: tiny but perfectly audible. "I can't understand it," an authoritative male voice was saying. "Her pulse is normal, her breathing is normal, there is nothing physically wrong with her so far as I can see, and yet she just isn't there." "What do you think has happened to her, doctor?" a respectful female voice asked after a short pause. "Well, something has. The marks all over her body: they have been inflicted. You could say she has been assaulted. But there are no injuries. Whatever has been done to her is hardly traumatic enough to produce this complete withdrawal from reality." "May I make a suggestion, doctor?" said the respectful female voice again. "Certainly, nurse. I can't solve this. If you think you can ..." "I think, sir, she is experiencing a mental orgasm. Her pleasure centres have been so intensely stimulated that they have taken over her whole mind." "I see. And will she return from that?" "Oh yes. It may take hours, it may take days. Depending on the intensity of the stimulus she has been given - the pleasure stimulus. She will not want to return, and she will need support when she does. But she is safe for the time being." "How do you know about this, nurse?" "I have ... er ... seen it." "Do you mean ... you have experienced it yourself?" There was a pause. "Er, yes, doctor - I have. Several times." "Remarkable. I know nothing of this phenomenon. Perhaps I should research it ... with your help." Another pause. "I mean of course," the male voice continued, "combining our knowledge and experience ... an academic paper ... jointly ..." "Certainly doctor. I should be honoured to assist you in your researches." I had been giving only a tiny corner of my mind to this discussion and now let it vanish. It was nice to know that two people were going to discover together what I already knew, and I was glad for the nurse, but - I continued to float in my own transfigured consciousness. There was no point in trying to define what I felt: that would come later. While it lasted I wanted to feel, to know, what had happened to me. It was not a matter of one half of myself being completed by the other half: that was too simplistic. Nor was I penetrated or completed by some outside agency: I was already complete. Everything that had happened to me came from, was part of, myself. I had penetrated of my own will into areas of my being of which I had known nothing. I was myself completing and perfecting and transfiguring the whole of my being. I felt it, I knew it. It was all inside me, part of me. All that had happened was a voyage of discovery, triggered by intense external stimulus, into parts of me previously unknown. They were known to me now, I knew how to access them. My life would never be the same again. [Next in Part 06: Mariko: The First Time] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams