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