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