WORK IN PROGRESS 13 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 13 CHAPTER XIII Shopping One of the many things I admire about Shizue is that she is always willing to help others and teach them to enjoy the things she so much loves herself. She is so busy, with the many parties she attends and her duties at the Paradise Club, that I really wonder how she finds the time! In this piece Tomo describes how Shizue introduced her into a new world of sensual delight. I suppose it was naughty of me to wear such a provocative outfit. Normally I'm a bit more careful when I go to a party on my own without a date to look after me - especially when the host is someone I don't know well. Don't misunderstand me: of course I go to parties expecting that there'll be plenty of nudity and sex. I'd be terribly disappointed if there weren't! But like most girls I prefer it to come about naturally. I wear a pretty dress; men think I look nice and want to make love to me; I act coy and pretend to be surprised, even a little shocked; I let myself be persuaded to take my dress off, slowly, gradually; I give myself at last to my new friends ... what could be more natural than that? When I go to a sex-party given by a host I know well, escorted by a lover who will be the first to have me, that's different. I wear sexy clothes that I know will please them and tickle their lust for me. But that Saturday night I'd been invited on my own: the invitation had come through a girl-friend and I'd never met my host or been to his house before. So, as I say, I should have been more careful. But the evening before, immediately after work, I'd taken the train to Shinjuku and visited one of my favourite shops. It always had a big stock of lovely tarty clothes. Most of the customers were prostitutes and bar-girls, and part of the fun of going there and trying on the new arrivals was being able to pretend, just for a while, that I too was one of those beautiful self-confident girls wearing lovely clothes and enjoying endless sex with countless lovers, and not just an Office Lady in a dead-end job who was fucked only at occasional Saturday-night parties. Of course you'll wonder why I don't give up my job and fulfil my dreams by becoming a prostitute myself. The truth is, I'm sorry to say, that I just don't have the courage. Once, and once only, out celebrating with a couple of girl-friends, I had visited a strip-club. And when the MC called for any volunteers from the audience to come up on stage, I was the one who responded. I don't know how I found the courage - it was just something I _had_ to do. Showing myself off nude on that little stage, shyly at first and then in a shimmering haze of ecstasy, and being fucked - several wonderful times! - by men I invited to join me on stage while the rest of the audience cheered and applauded me ... well, the memory of that hour of glory has never left me. I know what it is telling me about myself, but I have still not obeyed its seductive urgings. One day, perhaps ... I'm sorry, you really mustn't let me run on like this! I'm supposed to be telling you how I bought my party clothes. I said "Good evening" and bowed politely to a few professional girls I recognised from earlier visits, envying them their poise and beauty, and hunted through the racks choosing a few things to try. As I was looking for an empty changing cubicle at the back of the shop, the young assistant who usually served me called out: "Good evening, Matsumoto-san! Thank you for coming!" And then, in a more intimate voice, he added: "There's something here which is exactly right for you. It's just come in and I haven't put it on display yet. Please try it!" It may seem odd that a man should be serving girls in a dress-shop, but he was a very respectful young man with good taste. So I took the hanger he offered me and slipped into a cubicle, drawing the curtain behind me. I quickly took off the jacket of my OL uniform, unzipped the short skirt, unbuttoned my silk blouse and stood in my underwear, tights and heels as I examined the young man's recommendation. It was a two-piece creation in a shiny silver material. I took the top half off the hanger and held it against myself in front of the mirror. Goodness, it was incredibly glamorous but also terribly revealing! It had a high collar to button behind my neck, but below that there was little more than a narrow glittering strip between my breasts leaving them fully exposed, before the lines of the dress spread out again to join behind my back where the two edges could be laced together. Well, let's try anyway, I thought. I slipped the collar round my neck and managed to fasten the buttons behind. Then I smoothed the shiny material and held the dress together behind my back. Of course I looked ridiculous wearing a bra under a dress like that! Well, all right, I said to myself, just for a moment ... and I don't have to take it if I don't like it ... So I unhooked my bra and dropped it on the little stool with my other clothes. Somehow I tied the laces roughly behind me and examined the effect. Ohh, I thought: _ohhh_ ... I couldn't _possibly_ wear it, but my breasts do look _rather_ nice exposed like this! After all, they're still firm and young - so they should be at only nineteen - and very sensitive of course, and the men I meet at parties seem to find them tempting and fun to play with. But I couldn't ... still, there's no harm in trying on the skirt as well. Just to see. The skirt was very short and tight, moulding itself to my bottom as I squeezed into it and somehow did up the discreet side zip. There was a broad belt on the hanger, shiny black with a big silver buckle, obviously part of the outfit. I slipped it through the loops on the skirt and pulled it as tight as I could. Well, I thought again. It needs higher heels, but I have those. And sexy tights rather than the discreet modest colour dictated by the designers of my company uniform. Or - even better - stockings: the ones that stay up without suspenders. Then I could wear little panties underneath, or not, as I liked: no one would know till I, or someone, lifted the hem of the tiny skirt a few millimetres and revealed whether I was ... or wasn't ... No, I couldn't _possibly_, it was far too sexy and tarty. But those girls I had greeted respectfully a few minutes ago: would they wear a dress like this? Yes, of course they would: at work in their discreet clubs and bars, on private dates with their discriminating clients ... and didn't I long to be like them? And anyway, didn't I take my dress off at Saturday night parties once the fun started? There was no shame in that! "Are you ready? May I see?" said a voice behind me. It was the respectful young shop assistant. "Yes, of course," I said - and then, shyly so as not to be too provocative, "can you can help me with the laces?" The curtain swished back. There was hardly room for both of us in the tiny cubicle, so the young man stood mostly out in the shop while his hands obediently threaded the laces of my jacket-corset through the holes and pulled them tight. "Tighter?" "Oh, yes, please ... tighter - _much_ tighter." At last I was tied helplessly into my lovely dress. Already I was thinking of it as mine ... As my waist shrank in the mirror I was able to pull the belt of the skirt tighter to match. My breasts seemed to swell in compensation, the erect nipples standing out proudly. The shiny material glistened and shimmered under the bright lights as I moved. "I told you it would suit you," said the young man gently. There was so little room that I was standing with my bottom touching the front of his trousers. I had a vivid memory of standing like that with a lover and wriggling gently against him as his cock swelled and hardened, promising ecstasy to come ... my anxiety vanished. I had to have it! "I'll take it," I said before I could change my mind. "But if I'm to wear it laced tightly like this, I think I could manage a _slightly_ smaller skirt, don't you?" "Yes, of course. I'll find one for you." "And I think I need patterned stockings, don't you? Black fishnets, would you say?" "Of course," said the young man again. "I have just the thing. With our compliments, naturally." "Thank you. You really think it suits me?" I added, doubts beginning to return. "Perfectly. You look really lovely in it, Matsumoto-san. Will you wear panties with it? I can find you a little matching g-string." "Thank you," I said, barely able to speak. "Now, I'll leave you to change. Then I'll wrap it for you. Unless of course you'd like to wear it now? I don't know what your plans are for the rest of the evening ...?" "No, better not," I said. "I'll wear it at a party I'm invited to tomorrow night." "Very nice," he said. "I wish I'd been invited!" We smiled at each other in the mirror. It was the first time he had made any sexual advance to me. I liked it. He was still standing just behind me, and I wriggled my bottom just a little, gently and as if by accident, against his crotch. No, he wasn't just being polite. Wearing this dress made me pretty and desirable. I'm committed now, I thought. == I still felt committed as I prepared myself the next evening - which was silly, really, because the respectful young man would never know if I wore the dress to the party or not. But I found that I very much wanted to: I'd been dreaming all day in the office of the way I looked in the shop's mirror. I showered carefully, then examined myself critically in my dressing-table mirror. I decided to put up my long hair - not elaborately, it would only come down as the evening progressed, but tied out of the way so that it would not hide my bare back and shoulders and above all not fall forward over my breasts. Oh, what fun it was going to be to flaunt them so shamelessly, before a really appreciative audience! I felt something of the tingle of excitement and happiness that had possessed me when I had first posed nude in that strip-club ... I picked up the nail-scissors and carefully removed a few stray hairs from my cunt: I like to keep my pussy-hair neatly trimmed. I scented my breasts and pussy, and put on the little g-string the respectful shop-assistant had given me: just the tiniest triangle of flashing silver: I found I had to trim a few more pussy-hairs if they were not to peep immodestly round the edges! Then I turned my attention to The Dress. Of course I'd tried it on again as soon as I got home the evening before: how could I resist? And I had discovered that the easiest way of doing up the laces was to thread them loosely through the holes and then step into the top, pulling it carefully over my hips. I buttoned the collar round my neck then reached behind and tightened the laces as best I could. I felt a faint memory of the wave of pleasure which had flooded suddenly through me when the shop assistant had tied them firmly for me. After a lot of thought I had decided not to wear the stockings. They would do for another occasion. I stepped into the shoes I had chosen. They were little boots rather than shoes, with the highest heels I could manage, and laced tightly part of the way up my calves. They were small but a lovely fit and made my feet tingle delightfully. And finally I added the tiny skirt, struggling with the hook and the zipper, then squeezing my waist as much as I could bear with the belt. I walked up and down my little bedroom, relishing the luxurious pleasure of tight bondage from my boots and my belt. Even the tiny skirt tightly moulded to my naked bottom added a lovely feeling of constriction as I walked and wriggled. What a pity I could not tie the laces of my tight top without a man to help me ... well, maybe it wasn't such a pity after all. It would be nice to ask shyly for help in putting it on, and even in taking it off. Though that wouldn't really be necessary: one nice thing about my new dress was that I could be fucked while wearing it. All I, or my lovers, had to do was lift my skirt just a little and there would be nothing at all in the way except the tiny g-string - and _that_ wouldn't stay on long! I hoped the men I would meet tonight would appreciate this special feature! There was a ring at the door. That would be my friend Shizue! But just in case it wasn't, I quickly slipped on a cotton yukata robe before running to open the door. Yes, it was Shizue, who had invited me to join her at tonight's party. She had on a light coat so I couldn't yet see what she was wearing, but as always she looked poised, elegant and beautiful. She was an Office Lady, too, but worked for a senior executive in her company. Only the most beautiful girls were promoted into positions like that. I admired Shizue so much! "Nearly ready?" she asked. "Oh, yes!" I said. "Will you help me a moment?" She followed me into the bedroom and I dropped the yukata on the bed. Shizue looked me over critically, asking me to turn round so she could examine the back view as well. "Very nice," she said. "Very nice indeed. The gentlemen will like you in that." "Oh, I'm so glad you think so." "But it's rather untidy at the back, isn't it? It needs to be done up more neatly. Let me ..." "Please! That's what I hoped you would help me with." Shizue's expert fingers arranged the laces neatly and then pulled them tight. "More?" she asked briefly. "Oh, yes! It feels lovely ..." "You need to hold on to something. Here ... stand in the doorway and grab the frame with both hands." I felt the corset grip me even more tightly, squeezing my figure into an even more desirable shape. "Oh, thank you, Shizue!" I said when at last I could speak. I looked at myself in the tall mirror. "It does look nice, don't you think?" "Yes. You'll be a success." I suddenly remembered my manners. "But what about you, Shizue?" I asked hastily. "What are you wearing? May I see?" She smiled, turned away from me, took off her coat and dropped it on the bed beside my yukata. Then she turned to face me, and posed. "Oh, it's beautiful, Shizue! How lovely you look!" Like me, she was wearing a corset squeezing her waist cruelly. But she was all in shiny black: a little black corset which of course left her breasts and bottom uncovered; long glittering black gloves and matching black high-heeled boots. "I think we'll look nice together, don't you?" she said. Before I could answer she stepped forward and put her arms round me, wriggling her lovely breasts against mine - so firm, bigger than mine, with rock-hard nipples. She kissed me on the lips, lightly at first, then passionately with her tongue entering me and pushing mine back as she tickled the inside of my mouth. It was years since I had experienced any lesbian contact, and that had been with friends at school, lightly caressing each other's swelling breasts and arses as we changed after gym class. At last Shizue pulled away from me, still holding me by the shoulders with her gloved hands and looking at me with an enquiring smile. I could only gaze at her with my mouth slightly open and my eyes sparkling. There was no doubt about it: I was in love with Shizue. Of course that didn't mean I wouldn't be able to enjoy sex with all the men at the party! That would be lovely and I was looking forward to it. But for the moment the most important thing in the world was that I would be going to the party with Shizue. I would be able to watch as she was fucked - I just knew that she would look lovely doing it - and perhaps she would find a few moments between partners to smile at me again ... "I do wish my breasts were as beautiful as yours, Shizue," I said dreamily. We were together in her smart little car, and she was driving us to the mysterious party. She had put on her coat again, and I had covered my exposed breasts with a shawl. I was still shivering with the memory of that kiss. "Oh, you should work on them," she replied casually. "You must rub cum into them. That's the best way." "I never knew that!" "Oh, yes. It makes them grow and stay firm. But you have to smooth it in well and not wash it off too quickly. When a lover comes over your breasts - and you know how men adore doing that - make the most of it." "How often should I do it?" "I make it a rule to do it once a day. You know - I make sure at least one of my lovers each day comes like that, I ask him to finish there when he's ready after using my pussy or my mouth, or I breasturbate him if he prefers that. Then I thank him, and rub it in." She used the Japanese word _paizuri_ and I had to ask what it meant. She explained. "I usually start by sucking his cock, and then I move forward a bit and take it between my breasts - squeezing them together so as to make, you know, a fourth love-hole. It feels so nice, and men enjoy it because you're stroking the underside of their cocks which is the most sensitive part. Have you never done that?" "I'm afraid not. You're so much more experienced than I am! But now I will ..." I fell silent for a moment, wondering which question to ask next. "Shizue, how many lovers do you usually have? In a day, I mean?" "Well, it depends. More on Saturdays and Sundays, of course. The other days I'm tied to that boring dead-end OL job for seven or eight hours. Then I have to get home, shower, change out of my office uniform ... it doesn't leave much time for the real things of life. If I have a date, then that means making do with just one lover - unless he meets a friend and we invite him along to join us. At parties, of course, many more. Best of all are my two weekly Club nights." "What are they?" "Well, I belong to a Club. It's very select and exclusive. But a condition of being a girl member is that you have to take your turn on duty, looking after the gentlemen members." "And then you have more lovers?" "Well, it's what the gentlemen members come to the Club for, obviously. In fact Friday is one of my Club duty nights, and I was very busy and up very late yesterday evening. That's fine on Friday, because I can sleep late on Saturday. But when I'm required another evening I must say I'm terribly tired at the office the next day ... not that there's much work to do. No one ever notices if I catch up on my sleep in front of the computer!" I wondered if I dared ask Shizue if she would take me to visit her Club. But she had said it was very select and exclusive. Perhaps it would be better not to. Instead, I asked: "Tell me about the party are we going to. What sort of people will be there?" We had stopped at traffic lights and Shizue turned to look at me. "Very special people. People who know what they like and are powerful and wealthy enough to get it. You'll see. You may recognise some of them - but remember, you must never talk about what happens there." "Oh ... do you think I'll be able to please them? What sort of things do they like?" The traffic began to move again and Shizue turned her attention to the road. "They'll tell you," she said briefly. "Don't worry. You'll manage. I wouldn't have brought you otherwise." The house was out beyond Shibuya and stood in large grounds - enormous grounds by Tokyo standards. The man who owned this must be very rich, I thought. Very rich and very powerful. Shizue knew where she was going and parked the car in a neat row on a gravel strip behind the house. She got out and put the key in her coat pocket, then without locking the car tossed her coat onto the back seat. I did the same with my shawl. It was a warm evening and the light breeze tickled my breasts pleasantly. I felt poised and sophisticated, ready for anything. Shizue led the way round to the front door. It stood open and we entered the hall without being met or challenged. There was a sound of loud dance music from one of the rooms off the hall. Shizue opened the door, and we went in. There seemed to be a lot of people there, but the lights were low except in the very centre. There was a sort of raised round area there with silver-coloured metal poles reaching to the ceiling. Shizue worked her way towards the platform, I following of course. On the platform, bathed in the coloured spotlights and dancing vigorously to the loud music from the speakers, were about a dozen girls. They were all very beautiful, and completely nude apart from their high-heels, and little glittering black masks over their eyes. They danced confidently, lasciviously, stroking themselves against the metal poles as they passed them. A big circle of men, and some girls - also naked apart from a few who were still wearing g-string panties - were gathered round the platform, cheering and clapping. No one paid much attention to us. "Are we supposed to join in?" I asked Shizue after a while. "No. This is a special dance team. They're all Rose-petals." "That's nice. But why are they called that?" "They are all regulars at the Rosebud Club. Have you heard of it?" "Is that your special Club?" "Oh, no. Anyone can go to the Rosebud Club. It's a big dance-hall sort of place. I've been, of course. It's quite good fun, though I find it a bit unsophisticated. It's for young girls, really. The unique thing about it is the rule that all the girls dancing on stage must be nude. Apart from little face-masks, that is." "Oooh, how lovely!" I said, clapping my hands. "I must go! With some friends, perhaps ..." "And some of the regular Rose-petals," Shizue continued, ignoring my enthusiasm, "got together to form a nude dance team to work at parties like this. They call themselves the Cum-Drinkers." I was suddenly overwhelmed by a vision of myself being part of such a heavenly experience: being invited to parties like this, dancing wonderfully, gloriously nude as I had done once on the stage of my strip-club, and then giving myself ecstatically to as many men as wanted me, begging them to climax in my mouth so that I could drink their rich creamy cum ... _oooh_! Surely that was what I had been looking for, the way into the world of those poised, beautiful prostitutes that I admired so much ... of course I would start modestly, as an eager beginner, but if I worked hard and learned from my elder sisters, surely one day I too ... There was a sudden change on the platform. Two of the girls had left it for a moment, and returned with a lot of narrow bamboo sticks. Watching them, I saw that the metal poles had little hooks at intervals along their length. The girls placed the sticks horizontally about one metre from the floor, each supported on two of the poles. There was a buzz of excited conversation from the audience. "Oh, good!" said Shizue, "there'll be a limbo contest." I'm sure you've seen such things at parties or on beaches: the contestants have to pass under a pole without touching the ground other than with their feet, the pole being gradually placed lower and lower until only the winner is still in the game. It can be quite arousing to watch, even when the contestants are dressed - but I assure you if you haven't seen the game played by completely nude girls in very high heels you've been missing a lot! The audience pressed forward as the dancers leant backwards and passed lithely under the poles, giving the spectators a good view of their cunts. What sweet pussies they had! The hair shaved except for a neat little vee of pretty curls above the clitoris, the petals of their cunts a delightful pink, glistening under the lights with the drops of juice which had been forming there as they danced. I hoped mine looked as enticing. As they passed slowly under the poles again and again, each time having to bend a little lower, the men in the audience knelt down to get an even better view of the charming little cunts offered so temptingly as they inched provocatively towards them. I guessed it was forbidden to touch; but then I saw a man near me get so close that he was able to put out his tongue and delicately lap up the shining cunt-juice. The girl lost concentration and fell back onto her bottom. "Foul!" she cried as she scrambled up. A couple of others waiting their turn at other poles helped her up and waved their forefingers at the man who had broken the rules. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he said. "But she looked so pretty and delicious I couldn't help it." The girl was given another chance, and this time passed under the pole successfully. But they were being lowered further and further and gradually girls were being eliminated. They came down off the platform and joined the audience. There they took off their face-masks and were soon in the arms of lovers, their enticing nudity being stroked and petted and kissed while they responded gratefully. At last only two girls were left in the game, one each side of the platform, balanced sexily on the toes and heels of their shoes as they leant back at an impossible angle, their hair stroking the floor as they slowly, so slowly passed under the bars towards the audience. Even to another girl like me it was an amazingly arousing sight, and the erotic tension in the audience recalled the wonderful moment when a stripper - like me, yes like _me_! - at last prepares to shed her final tiny scrap of clothing. Then the girl nearer to me misjudged her angle. One of her erect nipples just touched the bar as she wriggled under it, dislodging it from one of its hooks. She scrambled to her feet, laughing and bowing, then stepped down into the audience where two men claimed her. The other girl continued her agonisingly slow progress under the bar - and then there was a burst of cheering and clapping. She had made it! Would she now come down off the stage like the others? No, she was standing in the centre of the platform under the full glare of the lights. "Now she will claim her reward," said Shizue, without taking her eyes off her. The girl surveyed the audience; then pointed and beckoned three times. Three men at once stepped up onto the platform, removing their clothes as they came. The rest of the audience pressed even closer to watch. She reached out of course for the three erect cocks surrounding her: I could hear her say, "Oh, they are so _beautiful_! I love them all!" Then she began stroking and kissing them, taking two in her hands while she lovingly sucked and licked the third. When they were all well lubricated, she whispered instructions to her lovers and then knelt on the floor on her elbows and knees. One man knelt in front of her, his cock convenient for her mouth. Another straddled her hips, pulled her buttocks a little way apart so as to expose her arsehole, and began to ease his cock slowly into it. Shizue was hugging me as she watched. "Oh, how _lovely_!" she said in a little, breathy voice. "They'll fuck her in all three holes at once. The lucky, _lucky_ girl!" I had never seen it done, not even at the most sophisticated sex-parties, and was watching in fascination. At last the second man had entered the girl's arsehole the full length of his cock. She was already letting out little whimpering noises of pain mixed with pleasure, when the third man knelt behind her and entered her cunt. Only when she was satisfied that they were both firmly plugged into her and could not escape did she open her mouth and invite the first man's cock into her. For a while the four lovers were motionless, the three men hugging and squeezing the girl's body. Then, as if she had given a signal, they began to pull away from her in unison before thudding back into her holes. The audience were silent, watching with rapt attention. I soon lost count of the number of thrusts the men gave and the girl received. Oh, _this_ is fucking! I thought, ultimate fucking, the most wonderful thing that a girl can have done to her, total penetration ... Maybe it was after about twenty thrusts that the men began to shout hoarsely, clearly on the brink of orgasm. The girl's mouth was too full for her to be able to add her screams to their shouts, but I did so hope she was at the gates of heaven too! At last they all climaxed together and collapsed into an untidy heap. As the men's cocks shrank they pulled away from her and watched as she lay there twitching and moaning. At last she opened her eyes, stretched out her arms and thanked them. Slowly they stood up and left the stage. The audience dispersed, drifting off in couples and threesomes to share some of the lust which the Rose-petals' enchanting performance and its spectacular climax had brought boiling up inside them all. Two girls kindly broke away from their lovers for long enough to help the victorious girl to the wash-room. After all I had seen I wanted to be petted and made love to myself, but no one seemed to be paying attention to me. I was just about to ask Shizue what we should do, when I heard her being greeted by a man who had come up behind us. We both turned towards him. He was a handsome middle-aged man, dressed in black trousers and with his broad chest bare. "Good evening, Master!" Shizue was saying. "What a beautiful show the Rose-petals gave us. It was so stimulating!" The man just smiled and turned towards me. "This is my friend Tomo," said Shizue. "Tomo, this is our host. You will address him as Master." "Thank you so much for letting me come this evening, Master," I said politely. "You are most welcome," he said. "Tomo is a complete beginner," said Shizue, "but I am sure she will learn a lot from you, Master." I felt rather indignant at being described as a "complete beginner". I have been to _lots_ of sex-parties, I wanted to say, and - and - I have appeared nude at a strip-club, and am planning to do it again! But before I could find the words the Master was speaking again. "She has a very good teacher in you," he said. Shizue looked down modestly. "But I think now the show is over it's our turn?" He turned to me. "Please join us. I think you will find Shizue's performance ... inspiring. We can all learn a lot about the nature of pleasure from watching her." He led the way past the platform to another part of the big room. Some of the other guests had already gathered there. Spots formed a pool of light and I could see chains and bars suspended from the ceiling, and tables loaded with sex-toys and other equipment. Shizue took up position under the lights and motioned to me to join her. A horizontal bar in shining metal descended from the ceiling above Shizue's head, and she raised her hands. "Are you ready, Shizue?" the Master asked. "Oh, yes!" I heard her whisper. "Yes! Oh, _please_!" Two other men stepped forward. They were younger than the Master, but like him were bare-chested and wearing only black trousers. They quickly chained Shizue's wrists in their black gloves to the ends of the bar. Then one of them went to a table and fetched a metal pole about a metre long. Together they knelt at her feet and locked her ankles to the ends of the pole. She was stretched out in a star shape. I had never seen that done to a girl before. It looked amazingly beautiful. "Are _you_ ready, Tomo?" asked the Master. "Me too? Oh, yes! _Thank_ you!" In a few moments I too was chained to an overhead bar, standing where I could clearly see Shizue. Will I look as lovely and desirable as she does? I wondered. I could only try my best. "What about her skirt, Master?" one of the younger men asked. "Oh, take it off." So strong but gentle hands undid my belt and side-zip, easing my pretty little skirt down my hips. I stepped out of it carefully as it reached the floor. Without asking for instructions the men also pulled apart the side-ties of my tiny panties and left me naked apart from my tight revealing top and my little boots. Soon I too was forming a star with my feet held apart by a metal pole. The overhead bar moved upwards again, stretching me tautly. It felt wonderful; and I was so glad I could clearly see Shizue. Her beauty in her pose gave me something to aim at. "A little tighter, don't you think, Master?" one of the men asked. "Yes. Definitely." So one of them moved behind Shizue and the other stood behind me. I felt his strong hands pull the laces of my top tighter and tighter till they cracked and I could hardly breathe. Shizue's man was doing to same to her black corset and I could see how lovely she looked with her tiny constricted waist. Did I look as lovely as that? Oh, I did hope so! As an extra refinement the two men now knelt in front of me and tightened the laces of my little boots. How my feet and ankles tingled under the extra constraint! With strong men like this to help me, I should be able to get into a smaller size. How pretty my feet would look, and how stimulating the tightness would feel! I must buy a smaller pair at once. What a lot I was learning about the delights of being bound tightly. The Master was inspecting Shizue. "Shall we gag and blindfold her, do you think?" he asked his assistants. "She would look very pretty like that," one of them replied. "A helpless girl is always arousing," said the other. "What do you think, Shizue?" the Master asked. Shizue could hardly speak. I knew just how she was feeling. My heart was pounding too and I could barely breathe. "As you wish, Master," she said in a tiny voice. "I want only to please you. But it is nice when a girl can scream and beg for mercy. Gentlemen usually find that pleasing." "I agree. But what about the blindfold?" "I think it is good when a girl can see what is about to be done to her. Much of the pleasure of being tortured comes from knowing what to expect ... and much of the pleasure of torturing a girl comes from making her wait for it." "That is very clever, Shizue. But of course you are an expert." He turned to the others. "Right. No gag, no blindfold. Let's start. All this talk about screaming and torture is giving me an appetite." One of the men brought a pair of metal devices from a table. I realised what they were when they were clipped firmly to Shizue's hard, erect nipples. She let out a gasp as the little metal jaws bit, and began to moan softly as the men adjusted the pretty toys' grip so that hurt more. Then they hung beautiful silver jewellery - like long dangling earrings - from the clamps. As Shizue wriggled in her bonds they swung in the light and tinkled charmingly. Then it was the turn of her pussy. A thick dildo in black plastic was shown to her, heavily ridged, with delightful spikes along its length. She sucked and licked it lovingly as they held it for her; then it was slowly inserted deep into her cunt. The power was switched on and Shizue began to writhe and squeal, the agonising pain from her breasts blending with the surge of erotic energy from her cunt. Of course, I knew nothing of all that at the time. I had never experienced the supreme pleasure of sexual torture applied by an expert sadist. I knew only that Shizue was already well on the way to orgasm. How and why that was happening was a mystery to me. Not any longer. Oh, no - not any longer ... The two men came up to the Master and bowed formally. "She is ready, Master," said one. "Good. Let us choose the instruments, and show them to her, since that is what she enjoys." They went to one of the tables, and returned with their hands full. "Now, Shizue," said the Master, "we want you to know what you have to look forward to. He -" he gestured at the man on his right "- will whip you with cats." The man stepped forward and showed Shizue what I now know is called a cat-o'-nine-tails: a short handle with nine long, slim, flexible lashes fixed in it. He was holding several of these instruments, and showed her each in turn. From my position I could see that they were slightly different: one had lashes made from strips of leather, others had them from thin cord, knotted or smooth. Of course I didn't know - then - the exquisite varieties of pain which these different varieties of cat could inflict. Shizue moved her head from side to side and I could hear her saying, in her little breathy voice, "No, no - oh no - please don't - you don't know how it hurts!" When he had finished teasing her the man stepped back and the second man took his place. He was holding a selection of whips: light ones, plaited bull-whips and so on. Again he showed them all to her so that she could tell what was in store for her, and again she implored him not to hurt her. At last it was the Master's turn. With a kindly smile he showed Shizue the selection of canes and crops he had chosen for her; ending with a bundle of thin bamboo strips bound tightly together at one end and decorated with a pink ribbon. This time Shizue's pleas for mercy were desperate. "Oh, Master, dear Master, I beg you - spare me - you don't know how terrible the pain will be - I will do anything for you, anything, if you will be merciful!" "You look so desirable like that, Shizue," he said, "and you beg so nicely! You were right - it was better not to gag you. I am looking forward to caning you, and to hearing you scream and entreat for mercy. Tonight I feel in the mood to cane you long and well. But first my two friends will tickle you a little, just to get you started." He bowed to the man with the cats, and moved away to a chair placed for him where he could get a good view of what was about to happen. There were appreciative murmurs from the audience. The man chose one of his instruments - the one with narrow strips of leather for lashes - and took up position a little behind and to the left of Shizue's helpless body. I did not know what to expect. I had never seen a girl whipped before, but already I was beginning to understand that it might be something she would enjoy as well as fear. Suddenly the cruel lashes of the cat were encircling Shizue's hips. She threw her head back and squealed. As the lashes let go and fell to the floor there was a gurgling sound which might have been "No, oh please no!" Again and again the long lashes caressed her and her screams grew louder. After maybe thirty strokes the man paused a moment and switched instruments. Now he was whipping her with the long knotted cords. Shizue was incoherent in her ecstatic agony, begging him at once to stop and to have mercy, and not to stop and to thrill her even more with his cruelty. The effect on me was something I had never expected. The pattern of the multiple lashes on Shizue's skin was most elegant. I thought I would feel sorry for her in her suffering; but each stroke seemed to touch me as well as her, making me tingle delightfully. Was it possible that a girl could really enjoy being treated with such cruelty? And - an overwhelming thought - were they planning to whip me too? Would I be able to please them and respond beautifully as Shizue was doing? Then it was the turn of the second man. He chose a plaited leather whip which whistled round Shizue's body with precision instead of the random pattern of the cat's lashes. Again and again Shizue screamed and begged - for more? Yes, she was begging for more! At last the second man tired, and the Master stood up and approached. There was a pause while he chose an instrument: he decided on the bundle of bamboo strips. He stood before Shizue and lifted her chin. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling through her tears. He advanced the bamboo switch to her lips and she kissed it, again and again. As he prepared to whip her, he said to the other men, "I think little Tomo is feeling neglected." Heavens! I was about to get my wish - I felt terrified! What would they do to me and could I stand it? Of course I could. I had to. They began by stroking me gently. Their touch stimulated me and my body responded gratefully to their light stimulation. Their fingers entering my pussy called forth a rush of cunt-juice. I realised that being forced to watch hours of high-quality sexual stimulation without being granted any myself had left me deeply frustrated. "You are very sensitive, aren't you, Tomo?" said one of the men - one of my kind, gentle lovers. "Yes," I said shyly. "I think so." "You like being tickled?" I suddenly remembered that the Master had spoken of their cruel whipping of Shizue as "tickling" her. Goodness, what was I letting myself in for? But there was only one answer. "Yes. I like it very much, Please ..." They moved away for a moment while they chose their instruments. To my astonishment they chose not whips but soft brushes, feather-dusters and the like. They began to stroke me all over with them while I giggled, squealed and begged them not to stop. I had never come before entirely from being tickled, but I did that evening ... three times ... So as the Master was beating Shizue with his bamboo strips and she was floating higher and higher into the heaven of perfect orgasm, I was being stroked with star-dust and finding my own way to paradise. == It was getting light as we drove away from the great house. We had at last been freed from our bonds and had of course thanked our torturers the nicest way we could. After that we had been free to join the main party and had relaxed pleasantly with the other guests. "Oh, I'm tired." I said. "Sleepy, I mean. But I wish it hadn't ended." "I'm not surprised," said Shizue. "You did very well, for a beginner. I recommend a long hot bath, and then sleep as long as you want to. After all, we both have to go to work on Monday. Unfortunately." "Yes. And next week will be very busy." "Really? You're lucky, I think. Nothing ever happens in my office." "I don't mean that. I mean I'll be busy outside the office." "So will I of course. Parties; my Club duties on Tuesday and Friday. What are you planning to do?" "First of all," I said firmly, "I am going to find out where the Rosebud Club is and spend an evening there. I'm going to join the Rose-petals on stage and learn how to dance properly. Nude. Then I'll revisit the strip-club I once went to - or find another just as good - and volunteer to perform. And when I'm nude I'll fuck as many of the audience as want me. Then I'll talk to the management about a regular contract. Another evening I'm going to a dress-shop I know in Shinjuku where the professional girls buy their clothes, and stock up my wardrobe. But also I hope a few of the prostitutes and bargirls I know by sight will be there choosing clothes. I'm going to be very brave and speak to them, and ask how a girl like me can join them. I expect I'll have to be very junior to start with, I hope as a _deshi_[27] serving a senior girl who will teach me the skills I need to become successful." "That's a big programme," said Shizue, obviously amused by my enthusiasm. "And," I said firmly, "on Saturday I want you to take me to that house again. They did almost nothing to me tonight. I want them to whip me the way they whipped you." "Do you now?" said Shizue. A terrible thought struck me. "Will they not think me worthy?" I asked anxiously. "Oh, yes. You are worthy of the whip. Very much so." I lay back in my seat, overwhelmed with happiness. FOOTNOTES [27] A _deshi_ is literally a disciple: a young aspirant attached to an expert, learning and serving. [Next in Part 14: Yuu: A Party Girl] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams