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 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Bob_Williams