We Always Do It For Real 28

THE MEGUMI STORIES
BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS

VOLUME 01: WE ALWAYS DO IT FOR REAL
BY MEGUMI KATO AND BOB WILLIAMS

PART 28

[CHAPTER XVIII CONTINUED]

"I'm sorry we didn't do all the things you planned," I 
said to my host as we finally prepared to leave. 

"Never mind, Megumi, it usually seems to happen like 
that. So long as you had a good time ..." 

"You should be a Director at Marucho," I suggested. 
"Then we would all have to do _exactly_ what you 
say." 

"You know, that's not a bad idea!" he replied, and 
then turned to say his farewells to Mr Horrigan while 
Jo-Anne, the Filipina maid not at present engaged with 
Sanae, helped me into my dress. 

Outside the May evening was warm and muggy, and I was 
glad to be wearing very little. I had not bothered to 
attach the little chain to my golden collar, and in 
the car the upper part of my dress slid off my 
shoulder and down my arm leaving me naked above the 
waist, but I let it alone. It felt nice, reminding me 
of that exhilarating moment on stage when I start to 
strip for my audience. Mr Horrigan kindly drove me all 
the way to my apartment block in an unfashionable part 
of Tokyo, rather than leaving me to chance my luck 
with the late-night taxis. 

"Thank you, Megumi, that was a heavenly evening," he 
said when we at last arrived. 

"I enjoyed it too," I said. "Wouldn't you like to have 
me just once more before you go? There's plenty of 
room in this car and the feel of the leather excites 
me." 

"Oh, Megumi, I'd love to but I'm _drained_!" 

"Never mind. Don't forget me. Let me know if you come 
to Tokyo again." 

He helped me out of the car, and held me tightly as we 
kissed goodbye. At the last minute I remembered to 
grab my jacket from the back seat. He stood and 
watched me as I ran up the steps to the block's front 
door; then I heard the powerful car move smoothly 
away. 

I slept late the following day, and when I awoke lay 
for a while stretching my naked body between the 
smooth sheets and remembering. Then I forced myself 
out of bed, reminding myself that I had to be at the 
studio later in the morning for the filming of another 
scene. After breakfast I smoothed and folded my 
beautiful dress from the night before, ready for 
return to the costume department. It was lying on the 
chair where I had left it together with my jacket. 
When I shook out the jacket to hang it in my own 
closet, I noticed something in the shallow pocket. 

This time the business card presented itself with the 
English side uppermost. Les Birch, it said. 

It took me totally by surprise. I felt as if my heart 
had suddenly skipped a beat, and a wave of lust 
flooded through me. The one thing missing from the 
previous evening had been whips and canes for use on 
those who took delight in them; I had never been 
flogged with the birch but I had read about it and 
dreamed of it. Such delicious instruments of torture 
and punishment were so important to my sexual life 
that seeing the word suddenly was like unexpectedly 
hearing a lover's name mentioned. I remembered now 
that during the night I had dreamt of being 
exquisitely caned as I had not been at Roido-san's 
party. 

I sat down for a while and thought. I remembered the 
man who owned that name; how handsome, how discreet 
and yet how masterful he had been. He had made it 
plain he wanted to see me again. He must have 
discovered by now what his name suggested to Japanese 
girls who had acquired a certain taste or dreamed of 
doing so ... 

Well, why not? It was worth a try. I could feel my 
bottom tingling with excitement. I looked at the 
clock. His office would have been open for an hour at 
least, and I had time before I was due at the studio. 
I picked up the phone. 

When I got through to his department a girl answered, 
and I heard her call across the room in Japanese, 
"Baachi-san! Will you speak to a Miss Megumi Kato?" I 
could just hear him grunt in a suitably non-committal 
Japanese way, then it was his voice on the phone. He 
did not pretend not to know who I was. 

"Good morning! How did you enjoy your evening with the 
fortunate Mr Horrigan?" 

"It was very nice, thank you," I replied primly. "How 
was your evening?" 

"Not as nice as his, I think. Do you often go to the 
New Otani Hotel?" 

"Well, yes, sometimes. In fact I may be there again 
this evening." 

"That's a remarkable coincidence. I shall be there on 
business this evening myself. Do you think ... if Mr 
Horrigan ..." 

"Mr Horrigan has gone home to Australia," I 
interrupted hurriedly. 

"Oh, good. Then if we both happen to be there at seven 
o'clock we might be able to get to know each other 
better." 

"Yes, that would be nice." 

There was a little pause. I couldn't think how to 
introduce the one subject I most wanted to discuss. I 
heard him begin to say "Well, then" - in a moment he 
would hang up. 

"You do have a strange name," I said quickly. 

"Yes, you said that last night. But I don't know what 
I can do about it now after all these years." 

"I meant your surname," I said, "not just your 
personal name." 

There was another pause. This time it was his turn to 
wonder what to say. 

"Of course we say _kaba-no-ki_ in Japanese," I went 
on. "But that's only when it's a tree. If we say 
_baachi_ we usually mean a rod from the tree. Or a 
bundle of rods. You know, the sort of thing people 
once used to punish naughty children ..." 

"That sounds rather cruel," he said at last. 
"Interesting, though." 

"Do you have many relations here?" I asked. "You know, 
birches ... Will you introduce them to me if we meet 
this evening?" 

"Yes," he said slowly, "I think I could arrange to do 
that. And some of their cousins, too - you know, 
closely related but with different names." 

"Thank you," I said softly, "I'm really looking 
forward to it." 

"So am I. Now that I know you'd like to meet them." 

"Oh, I _would_," I breathed softly. 

"Then you shall. As many of them as you wish. We have 
the whole evening. No one will disturb us." 

"I am so looking forward to it," I said. "Do you want 
me to bring anything?" 

"No, I think I have everything we shall need." 

"I'm so sorry to have bothered you at work," I said 
formally. "It was very, _very_ naughty of me. You must 
promise to be very, _very_ severe with me when I'm 
naughty." 

I hung up without waiting for a reply. I did a silly 
little dance of pure happiness round the room, then 
began to prepare for the studio. It was early yet for 
my appointment with the camera, but I had to return my 
dress and give Matsumoto-san my account of everything 
that had been done to me the previous evening. Most 
important of all, I needed to discuss with her what I 
should wear for the evening. I imagined myself in a 
little topless mini-dress like Kazuko Lloyd had worn; 
in leather, perhaps, _very_ short and stretched 
deliciously tight round my bottom - _white_ leather, 
yes, to suggest innocence and inexperience - until the 
moment came to offer myself, naked and defenceless, to 
the cruel relations of Mr Les Birch. 

What had I done to deserve such happiness? 


CHAPTER XIX

Megumi Attends a Wedding

The biggest event in the six months or so I have been 
working for Marucho was the wedding of Miss Mie 
Takahashi. I have told you that she was my idol, the 
actress whose performances convinced me that I had a 
vocation to act in high-quality sex videos. I was very 
disappointed to hear from Matsumoto-san, when I 
arrived at the studio on my eighteenth birthday, that 
she was leaving the company just as I joined it. Her 
combination of beauty and unrestrained sensuality had 
made her enormously popular, and throughout her acting 
career she had received a string of proposals of 
marriage from optimistic fans, and offers of 
establishment as an exclusive mistress from wealthier 
and more realistic admirers. 

So far she had rejected them all, preferring a series 
of casual relationships with temporary lovers - both 
male and female, for Miss Takahashi was bisexual - but 
she had at last found a man she wanted to marry and 
had decided to abandon her successful career for his 
sake. The man of her choice was an Englishman, a Mr 
Alan Buller - another of those impossible Western 
names, which became Aran Bururaa in Japanese. He had 
met her a year ago in a Tokyo nightclub, had been 
overwhelmed, as everybody was, by her beauty and 
charm, and had been pursuing her ever since. He was 
old enough to be her father - indeed had two daughters 
of about her age at home in England - and had for 
years represented a big foreign company in Japan. At 
last he had made enough money to retire, and would 
soon be returning to live in his beautiful house in 
the English countryside. I had seen photos of the 
house and its grounds, and I am sure it was the 
prospect of living there, as much as anything else, 
that decided Miss Takahashi to accept his offer at 
last. 

I could understand why he wanted her. Everyone did: 
even I, who am not lesbian or even really bisexual, 
had accepted with delight Miss Takahashi's occasional 
invitations to me to share her bed and enjoy her 
beautiful body. But she seemed to have everything she 
wanted already: celebrity, admiration, offers of money 
if she wanted it, endless sex. She was one of the very 
few actresses in our field who were accepted by the 
"straight" film world. Her most recent videos had been 
reviewed as if they were cinematic works of art, and 
she was invited to award ceremonies and premieres. She 
had all that; and yet for some reason she felt she 
also had to have an attentive, father-figure husband 
with a beautiful house in a cold, distant country. 

I wondered how the two of them would manage. Being one 
quarter Spanish (or was it Italian?) Miss Takahashi 
had been raised as a Catholic Christian, and used to 
go occasionally to the Dominican Monastery not far 
from Marucho's studio in Shibuya, on the other side of 
the main road, to do whatever it is Catholic 
Christians do. As I had always been told Christians 
weren't supposed to like sex, I wondered how she could 
be a Christian and a fuck-film actress at the same 
time.[11] But of course I could not ask her. Mr Buller 
was presumably a different sort of Christian, being 
English. Then I wondered what his family would think 
of her, or his friends and neighbours in his cold, wet 
country. Would they admire her exotic beauty as we 
did, and envy her complex and active sex life? 

Still, they were getting married. The wedding ceremony 
itself was to be at the Dominican Monastery but Mr 
Nagao had promised to give the couple a big send-off 
that evening at the studio. Matsumoto-san had told us 
that Miss Takahashi had made her husband-to-be promise 
that they would both abstain from all sex for three 
weeks before the wedding. I did not know what to make 
of this. Was it some peculiar Christian belief? Or was 
she just trying to ensure that the wedding night and 
honeymoon were truly memorable for non-stop fucking? 
And was it physically _possible_ to give up sex for 
three whole weeks?[12] 

Preparations for the party had been going on for ages. 
The plan was to invite exactly twenty-four male 
guests: business friends of Mr Buller's, former lovers 
and partners of Miss Takahashi, important contacts of 
the company. Twenty-four girls would entertain them: 
Midori, Noriko and I of course, and many of the 
part-timers who appeared in our videos. Reiko the 
receptionist volunteered: as I have mentioned, she had 
no interest in appearing before the cameras but 
enjoyed group sex. I was still in touch with my three 
friends from my acting course who, inspired by me, 
were trying to start careers in the sex business: I 
did them a good turn by suggesting them to Mr Nagao. I 
even thought of Kimiko, Ken's sister, whose sexuality 
had been blossoming nicely during our final semester 
at school together, but decided she might not be ready 
for whatever Mr Nagao, Matsumoto-san and the others 
were planning for us. 

We girls were to wear only white satin g-string 
panties, all exactly the same except that our names 
were embroidered on the inside (I'll explain why in a 
minute), and matching long, white satin evening 
gloves. We were also issued with some special costume 
jewellery: we each had an elaborate necklace and 
earrings, and bracelets to wear over our long white 
gloves, all covered in imitation diamonds to sparkle 
as they caught the light. There were matching 
decorations on our otherwise transparent high-heeled 
shoes. These shoes had in fact been specially designed 
and ordered by Matsumoto-san's department. The slim 
heels were between thirteen and fourteen centimetres 
high - slightly different left and right, as usual 
with Matsumoto-san's creations, making us all wiggle 
agreeably as we walked - and the soles were nicely 
shaped to follow the pretty curves of our feet. We had 
all been issued with our shoes a week before the party 
and instructed to practice walking sexily in the 
unusually high heels. 

I put my long hair up for the occasion, and as I 
examined myself in the big mirrors of the costume 
department I was very pleased with the effect. I tried 
to see myself through the eyes of the twenty-four male 
guests expected that evening. My breasts were not big 
but were firm and pointed the way men like; my tummy 
was flat and trim and my waist was slender; my legs 
looked shapely with my thighs and calves pulled 
elegantly taut by the unusually high heels I was 
wearing and my feet forced into a sexy tiptoe stance. 
And the tiny white satin triangle between my thighs, 
exactly matching - and for the moment covering - the 
little triangle of neatly trimmed black curls pointed 
downwards as a provoking little hint to my lovers of 
where I most wanted their hands, mouths and cocks to 
explore me. The panties wouldn't stay on long - I knew 
that much about what was planned for the evening! - 
and then I would be fully nude the way I longed to be. 
Oh, how I adore being nude in public![13] and how I 
loved the way my nudity was tonight deliciously but 
discreetly emphasised by the jewellery and gloves. I 
was eighteen and a half: in the last six months I had 
been happier and more fulfilled than I had ever dreamt 
was possible when I was still lost in schoolgirl 
fantasies. 


FOOTNOTES

[11] I _still_ don't know, even now I have come to 
live partly in the West myself. In those days I had 
only a slight conception of how complicated Christians 
make things for themselves. For us it is so much 
simpler. The Lord Buddha's compassion is infinite; and 
the Gods of Japan look on us with kindness and want to 
know only if we are doing our best! It doesn't matter 
to them what my job is: if I do it with all my heart 
and with complete sincerity, then they are happy for 
me - not because they demand it, but because they know 
it makes me happy to do my job well. I can never 
understand a religion whose Gods are concerned only 
with what you may or may not eat and wear, and which 
bits of your anatomy should be snipped off! Surely 
they have more important things to think about? 

[12] Well, yes, it can be fun to do without sex for a 
while in order to build up an appetite, when one knows 
the appetite will then be satisfied. I have sometimes 
denied myself sex - not even stroking myself in bed - 
for two or even three days and nights in preparation 
for a big date with my beloved Mr Otani. Then those 
first climaxes make up for everything! But _three 
weeks_? Impossible! 

[13] Yes, I know I keep on saying that - but it's 
true! And I've never yet met a man who wasn't 
delighted when I told him! Of course men like looking 
at pretty nude girls, but I think they enjoy it all 
the more when they know the girls genuinely want to be 
nude for them and are aroused by their own nudity just 
as much as men are by looking at them. 


[Next in Part 29: Chapter XIX continued] 

For complete series so far see 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Bob_Williams

