WORK IN PROGRESS 04

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 04

CHAPTER IV

The Trainee 

     Being responsible for training beautiful girls 
     for the Japanese sex industry is a wonderful 
     privilege. They are so keen, these girls, and so 
     gifted. Many have been dreaming of a career in 
     the industry for years, ever since their 
     sexuality first began to blossom - so they've 
     been imagining it and fantasising about it all 
     that time, longing to be eighteen and free from 
     the cruel legal restraints on pursuing their 
     ambition. All I have to do is help girls turn 
     their fantasies into reality. Ayumi is one of the 
     most gifted I have ever known. 

I was just getting into my stride, drafting an article 
about a new strip-club I had visited the night before. 
The words were coming easily, and it was a pleasure to 
remember, and describe, the lovely girl who had 
removed her clothes so provocatively and then invited 
favoured customers up on stage to satisfy their lust 
for her delightful nudity. Then the doorbell rang. 

"Oh, hell!" I said. 

For a moment I was tempted to pretend I wasn't at home 
and hope the visitor, whoever it was, would go away. 
But then I minimised the file on the screen, and went 
to open the door. 

A young girl was standing there. As soon as she saw me 
she let out a little gasp, and bowed low. I returned 
her bow in the slightly casual way appropriate to an 
older man, and a _gaijin_ man at that, disturbed at 
his work by a girl. She straightened up, and I decided 
I was glad I had put my work on one side. She was very 
pretty, even by the high standards of Japan, and was 
gazing at me with a sort of wonder. 

"I am Ayumi," she said. "I am sorry to disturb you, 
but I am here at the introduction of Miss Mie 
Takahashi and Miss Megumi Kato." 

She didn't wait for me to say my name, or even ask 
what it was. She had been sent to meet a _gaijin_ man: 
I was a _gaijin_ so obviously I was the man she was to 
meet. 

"You are welcome," I said. "Please come in. If it is 
at their introduction ..." 

"Thank you." 

She stepped up into the tiny hall and for a moment 
looked around for somewhere to leave her shoes; then 
became confused wondering if I had adopted that 
Japanese habit or not. I urged her not to worry and to 
enter just as she was. I guided her down the corridor 
and helped her out of her coat. She was a little 
flustered: Japanese men don't usually bother to help a 
girl with her coat. At most they just growl at her 
where to put it. I think they make a mistake: it 
provides an opportunity to break the ice with a little 
light touching. She was wearing a sweet but not sexy 
outfit under her coat: a white sleeveless top and a 
nice short skirt in pale blue which showed off her 
pretty legs - all the more so as I had encouraged her 
to keep on her smart white high-heeled shoes. 

I sat her down in the living-room and urged her to 
tell me what it was all about - though I had largely 
guessed already. I didn't offer her a drink as having 
to worry about a glass and where to put it was likely 
to make her even more uncertain and embarrassed. 

"I am a friend of Miss Mie Takahashi," she began at 
last. "Do you know her?" 

Well, of course I did or she wouldn't have been 
sending me letters of introduction. So I just said, 

"Yes. How long have you known her?" 

"Just two weeks. We met at a cafe on the Ginza. She 
has been so good to me!" 

I wondered if she realised she had been picked up. 
Probably not: Miss Takahashi would have done it so 
smoothly that an unsophisticated girl like Ayumi would 
never see that their meeting had been deliberate, not 
accidental. Miss Takahashi's appreciation of the 
beauty and charm of young Japanese girls, and her 
desire to help them develop their sexuality, were as 
great as mine. Had she taken Ayumi into her bed? 
Probably yes, though she didn't say and I did not 
intend to ask directly. 

"How was she good to you?" 

"Well, I told her all about my ambition to be an 
actress in, er, AV[8] productions ... you know she was 
a _wonderfully_ distinguished actress herself?" 

"Of course." 

"So she promised to help me ... and this morning she 
took me to see Miss Megumi Kato who runs a film studio 
called Marucho. You know her?" 

I just nodded. 

"Anyway, Miss Kato interviewed me, and was interested 
in my ambition, and I had to make a ... er, a little, 
you know ... er, test ... and she said she liked what 
I did and would offer me a contract, but not until I 
am eighteen." 

"Yes, Marucho are very careful to keep on the right 
side of the law." 

I didn't tell her there were plenty of less scrupulous 
companies who didn't care how young their models were 
so long as they were pretty, cheap, enthusiastic and 
tickled the lust of men who preferred underage girls. 
Ayumi would probably be glad enough to work for such 
studios and would see nothing wrong in it; but Megumi 
would not thank me if I sent Ayumi elsewhere and she 
lost her. 

"But she and Miss Takahashi both said I needed to 
learn a lot first. And they said you were a very 
expert _sensei_ who had trained lots of beginners like 
me, and I should come and see you." She began to hunt 
in her handbag. "I have these letters for you." 

The first was from Miss Takahashi, beautifully written 
in traditional vertical lines on handmade paper. I 
puzzled my way through the characters, skipping the 
introductory paragraph about the state of the weather 
and the time of the year with which an elegant lady 
like Miss Takahashi will always open a communication, 
giving the impression that her main reason for writing 
is to share with you the beauty of the blossom or the 
autumn foliage, until I came to the tell-tale "by the 
way" which introduces whatever it is that she is 
requiring you to do for her. It was much as I 
expected. Would I please do her the great kindness of 
giving some advice to Ayumi who would surely benefit 
from my avuncular guidance? The letter ended with news 
of sweet little Nozomi, one of Miss Takahashi's 
devoted girlfriends, whom she had given me as a 
present some months ago:[9] thus elegantly reminding 
me that I owed her a favour, and hinting that if I did 
what I was told other return favours like Nozomi would 
follow. 

The second letter was of course from Megumi. It was a 
quick businesslike note, written horizontally in 
ballpoint on a sheet of Marucho internal memo paper, 
asking me to put a new girl through a few weeks of 
training which would fit her for employment. She 
didn't need to explain what training was required for 
what sort of employment. I knew very well, though 
Ayumi perhaps did not yet appreciate, that a young 
starlet under contract to Marucho could hardly spend 
all her time before the cameras: she would be expected 
to pass her evenings deliciously nude at hostess clubs 
or striptease theatres, eagerly showing off her newly 
acquired skills and making sure all those who made use 
of her knew she was a Marucho girl and typical of the 
delights on offer in the company's video catalogue. 

"That seems all right," I said. "When can you start?" 

"Well, I ..." 

"What are your circumstances? Do you live with your 
family?" 

"I don't have much family," she said. "I live with my 
mother. I'm an only child. My father disappeared when 
I was young - I hardly knew him." 

Her eyes began to mist with tears: most Japanese girls 
are looking for substitutes for the fathers they 
hardly knew - or in Ayumi's case never knew at all. 

"I'm sorry," I said. 

"My mother has to work terribly hard to keep us both. 
And now that I've left school it's _so_ important that 
I get a job and start earning some money." 

"So your mother won't be wanting you home or fussing 
about where you are?" 

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. She knows I'm trying hard 
to earn money." 

"In that case you can come to me most evenings? So we 
can make progress on your training - this training 
that both Miss Takahashi and Miss Kato want you to 
have?" 

"I suppose so." 

"Come with me, then." 

I stood up and held out a hand to her. I made her 
precede me up the curving, open-tread staircase which 
led from my living-room to the upper floor, enjoying 
the close-up view of her pretty thighs and the 
occasional glimpse of white panties shining through 
her tights under her short skirt. Then I led the way 
into the big bedroom. I sat on the edge of the 
double-bed while she remained standing. 

"Right," I said. "Take your clothes off so I can see 
what you have." 

She looked startled at first, but then remembered what 
she was there for. Anyway, I was almost sure she had 
stripped a few hours ago in Megumi's office, and shown 
off her nudity without reserve to a Marucho cameraman 
and perhaps to other members of the company. She 
undressed neatly, but without coquetry: I made a note 
that the training I was planning for her should 
include instruction on how to titillate a man's 
appetite when stripping for him. 

She took off her sleeveless top and her little skirt, 
then removed her shoes and pushed down her tights. 
When she stood up again, in just her plain white bra 
and panties, I could see a pretty silver stud 
glittering in her navel. 

"That's nice," I said, flicking it gently with a 
finger. "Have you had it long?" 

"No, only a few weeks. It was a present from a 
boyfriend." 

"Have you any other piercings or decorations like 
that?" 

"No," she said sadly. "I want so much to have my 
breasts pierced - you know, have rings fitted to my 
nipples - but I don't think I can. I couldn't hide 
them from my mother." 

"Would that matter?" 

"Well, she was annoyed when she saw my navel-stud." 

"Doesn't she approve of girls being decorated like 
that?" 

"It wasn't that so much as the money it cost. She kept 
saying, if my boyfriend wanted to give me a present I 
should have insisted on money. When we needed money so 
badly ..." 

I was pleased to hear that, though of course I did not 
say so. A mother who understood the financial 
advantages to be gained from her daughter's sexuality 
was hardly likely to object to her absences from home 
being trained for a career in the porn industry. 

I gestured to her to continue undressing. She unhooked 
her bra and let it fall forward. Her breasts were 
lovely: full but youthfully firm, tipped with hard 
pinkish-brown nipples, without the big, blotchy 
aureoles which so often make a girl look vulgar and 
sluttish. 

"Very, very nice," I said, reaching up and fondling 
her breasts. "Yes, you'd look really beautiful with 
nipple-rings. We must do something about that. Are 
they very sensitive?" 

"Oh, yes!" she said, putting her hands over mine to 
keep them on her breasts. "I love having them 
stroked!" 

When at last she removed her panties and stood before 
me naked, I saw that her cunt-hair had been completely 
shaved. I slid a hand between her legs and stroked her 
cunt-lips with one finger. Her pussy was soft and 
smooth with no growth of stubble. I stroked her again 
and my finger travelled as far back as her anus. I 
felt rather than heard her gasp as the little hole 
resisted even the lightest attempt to enter. He would 
be a happy man, I thought, who was the first to 
penetrate that deliciously tight passageway. 

"Very nice," I said, releasing her. "Very nice 
indeed." 

I patted the bed beside me, and slipped my arm round 
her slim waist as she joined me. She snuggled up close 
and looked appealingly up at me. 

"Do you like it? My, er ... Miss Takahashi did it for 
me." 

"Did she indeed!" 

"Yes, she said men liked girls best like that. Without 
hair, I mean. Is it true? I do so hope it is!" 

"A lot of men do." 

"But you don't?" she said quickly. 

"Oh, yes. But some men like to see a bit of hair. Some 
even like a bushy pussy, with lots of disorganised 
hair. I don't. I can't stand getting hairs stuck in my 
teeth!" 

She giggled, blushed, and looked away. 

"If a girl has hair at all," I went on, "I like it to 
be neatly trimmed and tidy. Pretty curls that don't 
get in the way. And yes, I _do_ like girls with no 
hair at all. It makes them seem even younger. _Lots_ 
of men are crazy about that. As you'll soon find." 

"Yes," she said confidently. "Men with a _rorikon_." 

"And looking for a sweet young girl with a matching 
_fazakon_. You know all about that, do you?"[10] 

"Of course." 

She leaned back against me. My hands found her breasts 
at once and she purred with pleasure. 

"Do you have a _rorikon_?" she asked teasingly. "Do 
you think I could satisfy it?" 

"Of course I do. But I don't want it satisfied. Just 
tickled and teased and stroked. I want to keep it in 
good repair. I don't ever want to lose it." 

She thought for a little while. 

"You want to go on for ever, being - what did you say? 
- tickled and teased and stroked by young girls like 
me? Young-_looking_ girls with no hair?" 

Her hands began to tickle and tease and stroke me, 
showing that she understood exactly what I meant. 

"That's right. But you realise, don't you, that once 
you've shaved your cunt-hair you must go on shaving 
it? No one will want you with a lot of stubble. If you 
want to grow it again, you'll have to do without much 
sex while it grows; if you want to have plenty of sex, 
you'd better keep it shaved." 

"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. 
It means a lot of work. But I think I'd rather keep it 
the way it is now. With no hair. It feels wonderfully 
sensitive like that. Even _more_ sensitive, I mean, 
than it was before Miss Takahashi shaved it for me. 
Just feeling the air against it is lovely. So 
_exposed_ ..." 

It was time to impose some discipline. On myself as 
much as on her. 

"Now we must get to work." I said, standing up. "Lie 
properly on the bed." 

She wriggled into position, and propped her head and 
shoulders against the pillows. She looked extremely 
desirable. I hunted in the bedside drawers and pulled 
out a selection of vibrators. 

"Let me see you masturbate." 

She looked at me, startled. 

"You like to see that? Men like it?" 

"Of course. We love to see girls come." 

Her fingers began to caress her breasts, tickling the 
sensitive nipples, running her long decorated nails 
lightly against the firm curves and along the valley 
between. For a while she kept her eyes on my face, 
trying to gauge if she was pleasing me. Then one hand 
wandered down to her crotch, her legs parted and a 
long finger began to stroke her sweet little clitoris. 
Her eyes closed and she began to moan: I was forgotten 
in her enjoyment of the waves of pleasure chasing each 
other through her body. Her fingers began to enter her 
pussy, calling forth the first flood of love-juice 
glistening on her shaven cunt-lips. I picked up the 
first vibrator, a simple egg, turned it on and pressed 
it into the hand which was stimulating her pussy. She 
accepted it and her fingers stroked the humming toy 
skilfully against her clit and her lips, before 
pushing it deep into her cunt. 

She was groaning now and tossing from side to side. 
Watching a girl bring herself to orgasm is always a 
lovely sight, and Ayumi was an experienced masturbator 
- it was clearly part of her daily routine. She seemed 
completely absorbed in what she was doing, but I 
caught an occasional glimmer of her melting brown eyes 
from under her long lashes which told me she already 
knew how being watched could add to her pleasure. 
Before she was too carried away I wanted to see her 
use a larger vibrator and switched on a big dildo, a 
vibrating and wriggling cock with an attachment 
designed to press delightfully against her clit. I 
took the hand that was stroking her breasts and closed 
the long fingers round the thick shaft. She opened her 
eyes a little wider and smiled happily as she saw what 
I had given her. Slowly she pulled the egg vibrator by 
its cable from its snug position inside her pussy, and 
inserted the dildo. A great sigh of happiness greeted 
the swaying head as it pleasured the entrance to her 
cunt and then began its slow journey of penetration. 
As the attachment made contact with her clit she 
wriggled it close so that the little pincer could 
seize her pretty love-button and treat it to the 
fullest stimulation. 

Harder and harder she pressed the toy into her cunt, 
as she began to shudder and groan. Sweat began to 
break out till her breasts and stomach were slippery 
and glistening. She was no longer thinking now about 
the pleasure she was giving her audience: she was on 
her way to the heaven of a young girl's shattering 
orgasm. She screamed in her joy and arched her back: 
she was now fucking the vibrator as if it were her 
insatiable lover - as of course it was. Cunt-juice was 
forcing its way out and oozing down the sides of the 
tight-fitting dildo. Then, as her screams reached 
their height and her hips stopped moving - then thrust 
forward - withdrew a little, thrust again - and again 
- spasms of liquid poured from her cunt and watered 
her crotch before trickling over her arsehole and 
dripping onto the sheet. Has she lost control of her 
bladder, I wondered? I soaked a finger in the liquid 
and sucked it. No, it wasn't piss: she was 
ejaculating. She was one of those rare girls whose 
cunts are drenched with a sweet, light fluid when they 
come. Lucky, lucky girl, I thought. And even luckier 
all those future lovers who will bring her to orgasm 
and be rewarded with mouthfuls of such delightfulness. 

At last she came down from the heights. Her breathing 
returned to something like normal and she pulled the 
vibrator from her cunt. 

"Ohhh!" was all she said - all she could say. 

"Good?" I asked. 

"_Wonderful_! I think ..." 

"Yes, what do you think?" 

"I think ... it was even better than usual ... because 
you were watching." 

"You like being watched?" I asked, knowing the answer. 

"Oh, yes! Of _course_!" 

She stretched out lasciviously; then smiled up at me 
happily. 

"Aren't you going to fuck me now?" 

"Not yet. I'm supposed to be teaching you things, 
remember?" 

"Don't you want to?" 

"Of course I do! But now you go and clean up, while I 
prepare for the next lesson." 

She climbed off the bed, stood up and stretched, and 
wandered off to the bathroom. As she turned on the 
shower I went over to the chest-of-drawers and began 
to hunt out items for her to wear. Soon she was back, 
draped in a big bath-towel. I helped her dry herself, 
then removed the towel. She looked delightfully pink 
and clean and innocent. 

"Now, listen," I said, releasing myself from her arms. 
"When I take a pupil like you, I think it's good if 
she has a uniform to wear for her lessons. Well, not a 
uniform really, because each girl is different. But an 
outfit which looks good on her and which she changes 
into as soon as she arrives for a training session." 

"All right," she said. 

"We'll start with shoes. They're very important." 

"Even, you know, indoors?" 

"Yes. I know Japanese have this strange relationship 
with shoes. But I think girls are at last coming to 
see that the right kind of shoes help them to look 
sexy." 

"So we don't take them off to make love?" 

"No. You used to, of course. But nowadays I think even 
Japanese men find it difficult to feel much lust for a 
girl slopping around in fluffy slippers. The pretty 
girls in Japanese pornography are more and more 
showing themselves off in sexy high-heels - have you 
noticed that? I think it's great. Now, let me see what 
I have for you." 

I opened the closet where I kept items bought for the 
many girls I had helped and trained. Ayumi's eyes 
opened wide as she saw the treasures it contained. 
After some hunting around I found a pair of silver 
sandals with very high, slender heels in transparent 
plastic. 

"I wonder if you can manage these," I said doubtfully. 
"They may be a bit too high for you." 

As I hoped, she saw my doubt as a challenge. She sat 
on the edge of the bed and I helped her put the shoes 
on. They were a delightfully snug fit and emphasised 
the pretty curve of her little feet. I helped her as 
she walked in tiny steps to the big mirror. 

"Can you see that shoes like these, even with nothing 
else, make you look sexier? _Even_ sexier?" 

"Yes. They do. Why is that?" 

"Well, they stretch and shape your legs. They make you 
walk in a way which men find arousing. And another 
thing. Have you noticed that when you come you tend to 
point your toes?" 

"No, I don't think I have." 

"Well, pay attention next time and you'll see. For 
some reason orgasm makes a girl's calf muscles 
contract. So walking on tiptoe is an unconscious 
signal of sexual arousal. That's why men like to see a 
girl in high-heels. It makes her look sexier. And 
that's why a girl likes to wear them: pointing her 
toes doesn't only make her _look_ sexier - it makes 
her _feel_ sexier as well." 

"I see." She thought for a moment. "Am I to wear 
anything else?" 

"Yes. I've looked out some, well - not clothes, 
decorations. Are you ready?" 

"Ooh, yes! Please." 

I had chosen a set of glittering steel cuffs and a 
matching collar. The metal was lined with soft white 
leather, and the edges clicked shut leaving no visible 
join - just the tiniest hole for the key with which I 
could unlock them, and a little flush-fitting D-ring 
which could be pulled from its socket for attachments. 
I fitted the cuffs round her ankles and wrists, and 
the collar round her neck: they were comfortable, so 
comfortable that they could have been made for her. I 
added broad matching slave-bracelets round her upper 
arms. The effect was delightfully erotic. 

"Ooh, yes!" she said, examining herself in the mirror. 
"Yes, they're lovely!" 

"I haven't finished yet," I said. 

From a drawer I produced a tangled heap of long, 
dangling silver ear-rings. I sorted out a pair with 
clips - Ayumi's ears had not been pierced - and handed 
them to her. Eagerly she put them on and tossed her 
head, enjoying the way they flashed and tinkled, the 
ends lightly brushing her shoulders. Another matching 
pair were fitted with hooks, so I attached one to the 
stud she wore in her navel. It dangled sexily down 
towards her clitoris. The other needed a little more 
length, I thought, so I found a short silver chain and 
used it to attach the decoration to the D-ring buried 
in her collar. It swung charmingly between her firm 
breasts, tickling the curves as it moved. 

"Oh, how beautiful!" said Ayumi, tearing herself away 
from the mirror and dancing happily round the room, 
her decorations swaying and flashing in the light. 

When I caught her again I held her in my arms, stroked 
her breasts and flicked the erect nipples. 

"I do _so_ want to have them pierced!" she said, just 
as I was about to suggest it myself. 

"Well, you shall. Soon. Really soon. But meanwhile we 
can do something temporary ..." 

I let go of her and showed her a little pair of 
nipple-clamps. Her eyes opened wide. Carefully I 
attached the pincers to her rock-hard nipples, and 
hung another long dangling earring from each. She 
examined herself in the mirror, transfixed by the 
beauty of her appearance. 

"Oh, _yes_!" she breathed at last. "But won't they 
fall off?" 

"I can make them tighter ..." I said. 

"Yes, please!" 

I made the adjustment. 

"Oh, that feels _so_ good! And looks so lovely! You 
_are_ clever!" 

"Now, listen," I said. "When you leave, I will unlock 
these things for you. I have the only key ..." 

"Can't I wear them always?" she interrupted quickly. 

"No. They are for your training. But when you arrive 
here for lessons, you come straight up here, take off 
whatever you are wearing, and dress like this. We'll 
mark a shelf in the closet 'Ayumi' and keep them 
there. They are your school uniform." 

She giggled delightfully. 

"Of course, for some lessons and practical courses 
we'll decorate you differently, but we always start 
with the uniform." 

"What are practical courses?" 

"You're not ready for those yet, but it's when I take 
you to parties, or let you perform at strip-clubs and 
so on." 

"You mean ... with everybody watching?" 

"Of course." 

"Oooh!" 

"Now come down to the living-room. I want to talk to 
you." 

"Don't you want to fuck me?" 

"Of course I do. But not yet." 

== 

"Tell me about yourself," I said. 

"What do you want to know?" 

"Everything. Well, everything about your sexual life 
so far. First experience, what you've done and haven't 
done ..." 

Ayumi wriggled, and blushed. 

"I'm about the same as other girls, I guess." 

"That's for me to decide," I said firmly. "I need to 
know all about you, if I'm to train you how to act in 
sex shows and videos - how to use your sexuality to 
drive men crazy with lust. You want me to teach you 
how to do that, don't you?" 

"Mm'mm. Am I driving you crazy with lust?" 

"Almost." 

I was lying back on the big leather sofa in the 
living-room, wearing only slacks. Ayumi was curled up 
partly beside me, partly on top of me. I was enjoying 
the effect of her pretty silver decorations; but the 
main objective of decorating her was not to stimulate 
my desire or that of others I chose to show her to, 
but to accustom her to the provocative power of her 
own nudity. 

"Well," she said shyly, "I was twelve ..." 

"What happened?" 

"I had begun to ... you know ... have sexual feelings, 
though I wasn't quite sure what they were. I had a 
best friend at school. She was only a few months older 
than me, but rather more ... you know ... advanced. We 
were inseparable. One day I felt very brave and asked 
her to explain the things that were happening to me. I 
knew she would know, that they had already happened to 
her. Why it felt so good to stroke myself in bed. Why 
I had this light hair beginning to grow between my 
legs." 

"Couldn't you have asked your mother?" 

"She was so busy with her work. And out in the 
evenings. You know, company entertainment ..." 

I knew. A female executive, especially one with a 
child, had to be even more devoted to the company's 
interests than her male colleagues - which was saying 
a lot. 

"And one day ... after gym class ..." 

"Yes?" 

"We were changing back into our uniforms. And I looked 
at my friend and saw that her breasts were a lot 
bigger than mine. And I said how lovely they were, and 
asked her would mine ever be as lovely as hers." 

"Yours had started growing?" 

"Oh, yes. But not as big. And she made me stand beside 
her while we compared, and then she turned me towards 
her and stood so that her breasts and mine were 
rubbing together. Ooh, that felt nice! I can still 
remember it. Of course I'd stroked my breasts but it 
had never felt as nice as that. I just gazed at her 
with my mouth a bit open and the next thing she was 
kissing me." 

"Was that nice?" 

"Fantastic! No one had done that before, boy or girl. 
But I didn't really know what to think. I just knew I 
wanted it to happen again, the kissing and the 
pressing together of our bodies, and to go on 
happening. But then some of the other girls saw what 
we were doing and started giggling and squealing, and 
then the teacher came to see what was going on, and 
anyway it was time for the next lesson." 

"And when did it happen again?" 

"After school. My friend and I usually met then, and 
when I asked her where we should meet that day, she 
said 'Let's meet in the gym. No one goes there after 
school.' So we did. And we kissed each other again, 
and held each other, and before long we were 
undressing and comparing everything - not just our 
breasts but our cunt-hair and the way our bottoms and 
waists and legs were developing. She told me how she 
masturbated and showed me how to use my fingers to do 
lovely things I hadn't thought of before. And ... and 
..." 

"Yes?" 

"She told me about how pussy-juice came if you stroked 
between your legs the right way; and she stroked me to 
show me how, and it came for the first time. That was 
my first orgasm. Of course I nearly fainted; and when 
it was over I told her I loved her and she told me she 
loved me and we promised to meet every evening to love 
each other and enjoy ourselves even more." 

"How nice for you!" I said. 

She wriggled in my arms and twisted round so I could 
kiss her. The decorations hanging from the pincers 
attached to her breasts tinkled prettily and scratched 
my bare chest lightly. Then she was leaning back 
against me again, her thighs accidentally-on-purpose a 
little wider apart than before. I never refuse a 
delightful invitation like that, and ran a forefinger 
lightly along the petals of her cunt, stopping briefly 
to tickle her clitoris before returning to insert one 
finger-joint gently into her pussy. She sighed 
happily. 

"Well, of course I wasn't her only friend. And before 
long other girls came to join us. I didn't mind. I 
wasn't jealous. Some of the others seemed to like me 
too, and soon we were having quite big sessions, all 
of us completely nude, kissing and stroking and making 
each other come ... ooh, it was _lovely_!" 

"It sounds lovely. I wish I'd been there." 

She looked up at me and giggled, her eyes sparkling. 
She wriggled her bottom over my swollen cock. 

"Is that nice?" 

"Very." 

"Why don't you take your trousers off? Wouldn't that 
be even nicer?" 

"Yes. Later. Go on talking." 

"Some of the girls brought _manga_ magazines to share 
- you know, those thick books of pornographic cartoon 
stories - and we read them together and learnt a lot. 
Some of the stories were about lesbians, so we tried 
out the techniques illustrated there and that was even 
more lovely ... and of course there were lots of other 
wonderful stories showing girls being fucked by boys, 
and I wanted oh so much to know what _that_ was like! 
Some of the girls knew, or pretended they did, and we 
used to whisper together about how to get some boys to 
come and do those wonderful things to us." 

I slid my finger deep into her cunt, and added a 
second. She sighed happily. 

"That's nice." 

"And did they?" 

"What?" 

"The boys ... come and fuck you." 

"Well, we never did discover how they found out ... 
perhaps it was an accident ... but one evening a few 
boys walked in on us. For a while they were so 
astonished that they just stood there, frozen. And of 
course we were very startled too. Everything stopped. 
And I suppose that might have been the end of it, 
because we would all have screamed and rushed for our 
clothes and escaped before they could decide what to 
do. But my friend - she was recognised as the leader 
of course - looked up from the girl she was making 
love to, sat up and said, 'Come and join us!'" 

"Did she indeed!" 

"Yes. She was much the most experienced, you see, and 
of course she had boyfriends as well. Later I realised 
she must have told one of them secretly about our 
group, and arranged for him to come with a few friends 
and join us." 

"So what did they do?" 

"Well, a boy came to me and started by fondling and 
stroking me. I was nude, of course. I always went nude 
as soon as possible at our sessions - it felt so good 
being petted and stroked like that, and I was so used 
to it that I didn't feel it was odd or unusual to be 
nude for the first time ever with a boy. It was lovely 
when he stroked me - even nicer than when a girl did 
it - and of course I showed him the way I liked it 
best. Then I helped him undress and for the first time 
I saw a cock. A big, hard, erect cock ... oooh, it was 
so _beautiful_! It wasn't as big as the huge ones I'd 
seen in the magazines and been dreaming about, but it 
was still lovely. I was in love with that cock from 
the very first moment, and I've been in love with 
cocks ever since. Do you think that's very silly of 
me?" 

"No, of course not." 

"Why don't you take your trousers off so I can love 
yours?" 

I couldn't see any reason to go on refusing. Once I 
was naked, we settled down again, her clever hands 
stroking my erection and tickling my balls while she 
talked. 

"Of course I had to take it in my hands and stroke it, 
like I'm doing now, and the boy seemed to enjoy it. 
Then suddenly he started to groan and shout ... I 
thought I'd hurt him - it - and I was horrified. But 
he begged me not to stop and to go on stroking it, so 
I did and you know what happened next!" 

"He came." 

"Yes. All over my hands. Of course I knew girls made 
juice when they came, but I didn't know boys did too. 
Not really. And so _much_! It was lovely! The smell, 
the look, the feel, and above all the taste ... it was 
the most thrilling experience I'd ever had. Much more 
thrilling than my first lesbian petting and kissing, 
even though that had been fun. When I discovered how 
good it tasted, I licked it all up and begged him to 
make more for me. Then he explained ... and I was so 
disappointed ..." 

"That men have to wait a while between fucks?" 

She nodded, looking at me accusingly as if it were my 
fault. 

"You see, when we girls made love to each other, we 
never stopped. Of course we changed partners 
occasionally, but there was no need to wait for anyone 
to be ready ... we were _always_ ready. And somehow I 
thought that being fucked by a boy would be like that, 
only even better." 

I stroked her and petted her and tried to apologise 
for the inadequacies of my sex. The image of that 
eager squealing pile of nude girls, exploring each 
others' young bodies and bringing each other to 
constant orgasm for hours at a time, was dangerously 
arousing. Yes, I had been there myself ...[11] 

"Anyway, when he was ready again I went on stroking 
him, and of course I couldn't resist kissing his 
beautiful cock because I was so in love with it, and 
so I discovered from the start that the best thing to 
do with a cock is to kiss it and lick it and suck 
it." 

"But I guess you found out about cunt-fucking as 
well?" 

"Of course. But later. When that session ended we 
begged the boys to come and join us again. And of 
course they did. There were more of us than there were 
of them, and anyway quite a few of us girls wanted to 
go on doing it to each other the way we always had. 
But I had already decided that I liked making love to 
boys best. After all, girls don't have cocks! The next 
time they came I had I borrowed another girl's porn 
magazine so that I could show the boy I was with what 
I wanted him to do to me. I helped him get his cock 
into my cunt, and that was lovely too. But I think 
having cocks in my mouth is even better. After all, 
that was how I showed my love for my first one." 

"Have you ever had your arse fucked?" I asked. 

"Well, a boy did try, but he was clumsy and I didn't 
enjoy it much." 

"I won't be clumsy," I said. 

"I'm sure you won't be," she said, and leant forward 
to give my cock a kiss. "Ooh, would the lovely big 
cock like to come in my little arse?" she said 
teasingly, as if cuddling a kitten. "Will he force his 
way into my little hole and make it _so_ happy?" 

I was getting fairly close to orgasm, despite telling 
myself to wait, and decided I had better hurry with my 
next question. 

"Have you ever been tied up for sex?" I asked 
cautiously. "Or even ... you know ... slapped a bit on 
your bottom?" 

She was more advanced than I gave her credit for - at 
least in theory. 

"Whipped, you mean? Bondage? No. I know what it is, 
though: the girls in the _manga_ magazines sometimes 
do that. From the way they scream and beg for it I 
guess it's very nice. But I've never had it done to 
me." 

"Well, we'll soon put that right." 

"Oh, will you teach me?" 

"Of course," I said. "All part of what you've come 
here for." 

She stopped cuddling my cock and started stroking my 
chest, teasing me with the silver decorations dangling 
from her tightly clamped nipples. 

"Do you have lovely cruel whips with lots of lashes 
with little points on, like the men in the cartoons 
use?" 

"Yes," I said shortly, trying to keep myself under 
control. 

"Will you tie your poor little girl up so she can't 
escape and whip her with the lovely cruel whip for 
hours and hours and make her scream?" 

"Yes." 

"Oooh, beautiful!" 

"Yes, it will be. For both of us. Tell me," I added 
quickly, trying to take my mind off the pretty things 
she was suggesting, "when did you decide you wanted to 
enter the sex business? Be a fuck-film actress and all 
that?" 

"Well, obviously, I found I _loved_ sex. There was 
_nothing_ I wanted to do more. And the thought that I 
could make my living by doing it was so exciting! And 
another thing ..." 

"Yes?" 

"You see, when I found that girls and men are 
different - that girls want to fuck all the time but a 
man has to wait for _ages_ after fucking me before he 
can do it again - I suddenly thought: so a girl should 
have a series of men. Fucking me without stopping one 
after the other, the way I really like. Then back to 
the first man when he's ready again. So I spoke to a 
few of my boyfriends and they got together a group of 
friends and found a place where we could be private 
together, and we had some lovely long sessions of 
non-stop fucking. Non-stop for me, anyway. And doing 
it with a big group of men meant that when I was doing 
it with one of them all the others were watching. I 
_loved_ that! Sex was even more beautiful with people 
watching me do it. And then when I read in magazines 
about clubs where the girls are nude and fuck anyone 
who wants them in front of all the others, and film 
studios where girls are videoed fucking so _everyone 
in the whole world_ can watch - well, I said: that's 
what _I_ want to do!" 

"Well, you shall," I said shortly. "I'll teach you 
everything you need to know." 

"Oh, thank you!" 

"Now, show me you remember what those boys taught you 
about sucking cock." 

"Yes, _yes_!" she said, scrambling down to the carpet 
to kneel in front of me. "I've been _longing_ for you 
to fuck me! _Promise_ to come lots and lots! And in my 
mouth! I don't want to lose a _drop_!" 

She was good - _very_ good. It wasn't only the skill 
of her lips and flickering tongue: the love and 
enthusiasm with which she worked on my cock were most 
arousing. Obviously a girl can't easily suck your cock 
and speak at once, but from time to time she managed 
to gasp out pretty phrases about how much she adored 
it. 

"So _long_!" she said. 

I thought she was flattering me, but then - 

"It's been so long!" 

"You mean, since -?" 

She removed my cock from her mouth for a few moments, 
cradling it instead between her breasts. 

"Of course, I had a lovely one earlier ... in my test 
with the camera ... but apart from that -" 

"No?" 

"I was with Miss Takahashi, you see ... she was 
wonderful, but -" 

"Not the same, is it?" 

"No." 

She restored my cock to her mouth. Her sucking, and 
the thought of her and the beautiful Miss Takahashi in 
bed together, were bringing me dangerously close to 
climax. 

"Let me suck you for a bit," I suggested. 

"Ooh, yes please!" 

She knelt upright, and crawled forward till she was 
squatting over my face. Slowly, and with gasps of 
pleasure, she pressed her sweet hairless cunt onto my 
mouth. 

When I think of all the enchanting young Japanese 
pussies I have kissed and loved and sucked nectar from 
over the years - well, it makes me feel quite 
sentimental. Ayumi's was one of the best. It tasted 
delicious, of course: young Japanese girls' pussies 
always do. Its complete hairlessness meant that our 
adoring contact was total: her quivering, trembling 
flesh seemed as loving and mobile as my own lips. It 
was as if her pussy was kissing me back. I grasped her 
by the hips and pulled her firmly onto me, while her 
squeals and cries of joy stimulated me to adore her 
all the more deeply and truly. I love every little bit 
of a young sexy Japanese girl, from the top of her 
head to her cute little toes; but when she sits on my 
face I feel that if I had only her enchanting pussy to 
love I should want nothing more. Ayumi was screaming 
and wriggling now: I could tell she was close to her 
first orgasm. Suddenly my mouth filled with delicious, 
sweet, fresh liquid: once again she was ejaculating in 
her ecstasy. Oh, I just want to go on sucking and 
loving this pussy for ever and ever, I thought ... 

When at last she had climbed down from the heights of 
orgasm, Ayumi quickly returned to my cock, kissing and 
sucking it with all her skill. I came rather quickly, 
thanks to all the physical and mental stimulation she 
had provided. When it was over she snuggled up against 
me again, licking her lips and playing with the 
decorations clipped to her breasts. 

"What would you like to do now?" I asked. 

"I don't know ... whatever you think would be good for 
my education!" 

"How about a video?" I asked. 

"Yes! That would be nice ... a sex-video?" she asked 
anxiously. 

"Are there any others?" 

She giggled prettily. 

"I'd like to see ... you know, one which would teach 
me new things, like - er - being tied up and 
whipped?" 

I looked at her for a few moments, considering. Yes, I 
thought, that would be a good introduction. And if she 
finds she is keen to experience it herself, I can 
bring that part of her training forward. In any case, 
I had just been given a new Marucho BDSM video by my 
dear friend Megumi. I hadn't done more as yet than 
glance at the early scenes, and it would be a good 
opportunity to enjoy it - and watch Ayumi enjoying it. 

We watched it lying on the floor in front of the sofa, 
Ayumi snuggled up against me as usual, my hands 
playing with her pretty breasts and sweet pussy, her 
metal adornments glinting and tinkling nicely as she 
wriggled under my touch. It was a long video, all of 
two hours, and there had been time to establish a 
simple plot rather than starting at once with the 
fucking. The heroine was supposed to be some kind of 
secret investigator, whose work had taken her to an 
abandoned warehouse. Her working uniform was all in 
shiny black leather: a bondage harness with matching 
cuffs and collar, and high-heeled thigh-boots - rather 
delightful even if somewhat improbable. Of course the 
villains caught her checking out their warehouse, and 
when she came to after being captured she found 
herself helplessly tied up ready for interrogation. 
The heroine was played by a girl called Kimiko 
Kobayashi, one of dear Megumi's discoveries; she had 
the slightly plump beauty which looks especially 
delectable when tightly bound with ropes. In this case 
the villains had tied her up remarkably tight, 
removing her harness first so that the ropes bit 
firmly into her naked flesh - not forgetting to tie 
one rope tightly round her crotch, its carefully 
placed knots pressing agreeably against her cunt and 
arsehole whenever she tried to move. 

The villains threatened her and demanded to know who 
had sent her and why. If she did not tell them 
willingly, she would be tortured until she did. She 
bravely refused to speak, and the torture began. They 
tied her elbows together behind her, pulling her 
shoulders back cruelly and making her firm breasts 
press forward proudly. They locked her wrists to her 
ankles, forcing her into an exquisitely painful, and 
very beautiful, arc; and then suspended her from the 
ceiling, swinging her to and fro, up and down. But 
still she would not talk. Next they tied her to a 
pillar, her hands far above her head, her feet in 
their high-heeled boots hardly touching the ground, 
and slowly, agonisingly slowly, applied 
clothes-peg-style clamps to her breasts. I could see 
that these were not the ordinary domestic clothes-pegs 
used in everyday porn videos: they were ones made 
specially for the pleasure of sadists and masochists 
with extra strong springs and little serrated metal 
jaws, which you can buy from sex-shops specialising in 
fetish equipment.[12] The villains knew their job well 
enough to apply the clamps slowly, one by one, giving 
her plenty of time to squeal and wriggle: about a 
dozen circling each breast and then, as the climax of 
the delicious agony, one specially large one biting 
lusciously into each nipple. She screamed and squirmed 
beautifully, but still would not talk. 

So, when the camera had lingered enough over the 
beauty of her decorated breasts and the refined agony 
of her face, they took her down and - leaving the 
forest of clamps still in place - laid her on a 
mattress with her wrists and ankles chained to the 
four corners. It was time for candle-wax torture, with 
the additional refinement of the clamps still biting 
into her breasts. Each villain had two large candles 
and soon she was spattered all over with red wax. They 
paid particular attention to her breasts, which were 
soon hidden under a mass of wax, the clamps almost 
unrecognisable as they protruded through it. As an 
extra refinement, they freed her ankles and lifted her 
legs, one holding her ankles tight as the others 
poured molten wax over the soles of her feet, making 
her wriggle and squeal delightfully - a traditional 
touch I had not previously thought of incorporating in 
my own personal torture routines. 

In between the different forms of torture the villains 
of course forced her to satisfy their lusts, 
stimulated by their pleasure in the beautiful 
spectacle she presented. Her face was streaked with 
cum and her voice, when she begged for mercy and 
refused to answer their questions, was thick with the 
explosions of semen she had swallowed, her throat 
muscles constricted by her leather collar. 

Of course I was enjoying the video greatly. Like all 
Marucho videos it adhered carefully to the company's 
policy "We Always Do It For Real". Nothing was faked: 
not the torture, not the actress's reactions to it. 
Furthermore, having received a personal copy of the 
video from the company, I was able to enjoy it without 
any of the tiresome "mosaic" censorship still applied 
in Japan to shots of pussies and cocks. But of course 
I was also enjoying Ayumi's reaction. Snuggled up 
against me in nothing but her provocative body 
jewellery, she was trembling and whimpering, burying 
her face in her hands and on my chest, but unable to 
tear her eyes away from the screen for more than a 
moment at a time. 

The last twenty-five minutes of the video were the 
best whipping scene I have ever seen performed on 
video. The head villain appeared, and berated his 
underlings for their failure to extract the required 
information from their victim. He then took over, and 
showed himself a true expert with the whip and other 
implements. He began by removing the clamps and 
peeling the accumulated wax from her body. On his 
instructions, one of the others drove up a fork-lift 
truck: the scene was after all an abandoned warehouse, 
so presumably it wasn't too difficult to find such a 
thing. The girl's arms were roped tightly behind her 
back and her ankles were tied; and she was blindfolded 
and gagged. The rope round her ankles was hooked round 
the vehicle's fork, and she was slowly lifted into the 
air - the villains carefully supporting her as she was 
dragged off the floor. Then the truck drove slowly out 
of the warehouse into the sunshine of the forecourt, 
the victim dangling helplessly upside-down and the 
head villain following with an assortment of torture 
implements under his arm. 

"You are going to tell me what I want to know," he 
said to her in a soft, sinister voice as she hung in 
front of him. "But not yet. Oh, no! You will not tell 
me till I am ready to hear it. That is why I have 
gagged you: so you can't spoil my enjoyment before I 
have finished. First I shall give myself the pleasure 
of whipping you." 

He selected a cat with long leather lashes and began. 
He whipped her hard and steadily, covering her arse, 
her thighs, her back, her crotch, her stomach and her 
breasts, instructing the driver to raise and lower her 
to a convenient height as he attended to each area. 
She swung to and fro upside-down under the force of 
his strokes, and screamed inarticulately from behind 
her gag. Ayumi was transfixed by the scene, her body 
cringing and shuddering at every stroke as if she were 
being whipped herself. Yes, I thought, I must 
certainly give priority to this part of her training. 

At last the master torturer paused. The others wheeled 
a whipping-frame out into the sunlight. She was 
lowered from the fork-lift truck and set the right way 
up again; her arms and ankles were untied, and she was 
made to stand within the frame while she was attached 
to it and stretched tightly. Then at last her gag and 
blindfold were removed. 

"Well, my sweet," he said in his sinister voice, "that 
was very enjoyable. For me, at least. But I haven't 
finished. That was only the beginning. I shall now 
whip you more - and much, much harder. Look, this is 
the whip I shall use." He held a cat before her eyes: 
it had thin, knotted lashes. "This one is _really_ 
painful - the other was just a toy. You may scream if 
you like. No one will come." 

He began by tickling her shoulders and her breasts 
with the tips of the lashes. He laughed at the 
apprehension in her face, showed her the knotted 
lashes and told her about the agony she had to look 
forward to. Then, having teased her enough, he took up 
position and began to whip her arse with all his 
strength. She flung back her head and screamed. After 
a dozen strokes he stopped. 

"Nice?" he asked softly. "You liked that?" 

She said nothing. Another dozen strokes followed, 
carefully placed over her breasts, stomach and thighs. 

"Was that even nicer? You must tell me what you like 
best." 

I realised that this expert had spotted something his 
underlings had failed to see: that she was loving 
every moment of the thrilling experiences she was 
being given, and that in refusing to speak she wasn't 
being brave: she just wanted the wonderful torture to 
continue indefinitely. The last thing she wanted was 
to bring it to an end by giving her torturers the 
information they were seeking. 

He had stopped again. He tucked the cat under his arm 
and stood in front of her, smiling and gently fondling 
her firm breasts, pinching the rock-hard nipples. 

"Very pretty," he said. "Oh, _very_ pretty. It's 
almost a shame to hurt them - except that that's what 
we both like best, isn't it? Look how hard and erect 
you are![13] I'm so glad you are enjoying it so 
much."  

She looked at him but said nothing. 

"I expect you'd like something harder, wouldn't you? 
This cat is too soft for a girl like you. Look what I 
have for you here!" 

He held up a long whip in plaited leather, its heavy 
lash creaking sexily as he moved it from side to side. 
I felt Ayumi gasp with excitement and wriggle even 
closer to me. I could tell she wanted to ask me if I 
had such a whip to use on her, but was reluctant to 
interrupt the thrilling scene. 

"I think you'll like this! I really do. Don't you 
think you'll like this?" 

Still no answer. He smiled, then moved behind her. He 
took up position, judged his distance, and sent the 
beautiful whip hissing and sizzling round her hips. 
She screamed louder than ever. Again and again he sent 
it flashing round her, driving her into masochistic 
ecstasy. Then he stopped. 

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked. "Would you like some 
more? Would you?" 

She opened her lips and swallowed a couple of times. 

"Answer me!" he commanded. 

At last she managed to croak "Yes." 

"Ah! I knew I would get it right if I kept trying! 
Find the things you really, really enjoy!" 

"Yes," she said again. 

He looked at her sorrowfully. 

"But you see, if I am to do the things that you want 
so much, you must do something for me. That's only 
fair, isn't it?" 

No answer. 

"So this is what I suggest. You tell me the things I 
want to know - who sent you here and why - and in 
return I'll whip you as long as you like, as much as 
you like. But if you won't tell me, if you go on being 
difficult, then I'll stop. Is that a deal?" 

She managed to say "Yes" again; and then with great 
difficulty spelt out the information he required. 

"Thank you, my dear! That was very good. Now I will 
keep my promise and give you your reward. Look, I have 
a new little toy here. Don't you think he will feel 
delightful?" 

He held out another cat. This time it had far more 
than the usual nine lashes; all were made of long 
strands of very thin whipcord, with tiny hard knots 
along their length. She looked at it with her eyes 
wide open. 

"Yes," she breathed at last. "Yes, please." 

And for the last five minutes of this splendid video, 
he whipped her comprehensively with the lovely new 
cat, covering her entire naked body with the myriad 
strands with their countless little knots of exquisite 
pain, while she at last screamed and begged with all 
her heart. The scene finished with a close-up of her 
beautiful, anguished face as she attained that 
paradise of perfect orgasm which is every girl's 
dream. 

The video ended. 

"Ohh!" said Ayumi, clinging to me as her body twitched 
in the spasms of her own orgasm. "How _beautiful_! _I_ 
want to be her! I want to be that girl. Do you have 
whips like that? Do you? I'm sure you do! Will you use 
them on me? Oh, _please_!" 

== 

After that, of course, Ayumi came frequently to my 
apartment for further training. As often with an eager 
young girl, she already knew - almost - how to undress 
for her lovers, but needed instruction in how to dress 
for them. She was at first puzzled about the need for 
that: surely the whole idea was to get nude as quickly 
as possible? But I was able to convince her, by 
conducting some practical sessions in what the 
Japanese call _cosupure_ or costume-play, that an 
imaginative approach to clothes could have very 
gratifying results in terms of stimulating desire. 
Fortunately I had built up over the years quite a 
collection of provocative outfits bought for girls I 
had trained, and I gave Ayumi free access to it. With 
my guidance she soon learnt how to dress to please a 
man. I wrote down quick descriptions of our sessions 
at the time, wanting to capture the raw material 
before memories faded or merged: the following 
accounts are chosen from my notes: 

== 

I stand there waiting. I am wearing slacks: nothing 
above the waist, bare-footed. At last the door opens 
and Ayumi enters. She walks, and then stands, 
elegantly with a touch of shyness, or perhaps 
uncertainty, hidden behind the apparent 
self-confidence. She wears long gloves in a pale gold 
material, a pretty necklace, gold high-heeled sandals 
and a sweet little bikini panty in the same material 
as her gloves, its side-tie bows waiting to be pulled 
apart by a lover's fingers. She holds her gloved hands 
lightly over her crotch. After a moment's hesitation 
she walks towards me. I move to join her. 

"I have come to the right place, haven't I?" she asks, 
looking up at me seriously. 

"Yes, I think you have," I reply. 

"Oh, I'm so glad. There are other parties happening 
here tonight, and I wasn't sure ..." 

"I'm sure you'd be welcome at any of them," I say. 

She smiles to acknowledge the compliment, and does 
nothing to stop me putting my arm round her pretty 
waist. 

"Are you expecting many people?" she asks. 

"Quite a few," I say. "There's usually quite a crowd 
here on a Friday night." 

"Oh, I'm glad. I wouldn't want to be the only one ... 
It was difficult to decide what to wear - this is my 
first time, you see. At a party ... _this_ sort of 
party." 

"I think you made the right decision," I say. 

"I'm glad," she says again. 

She stands on tiptoe and we kiss. First lightly on the 
lips, then with our tongues exploring each other's 
mouth. As she breaks away she lets out a long sigh of 
contentment; then turns round in my arms and stands 
with her back to me. Her breasts lift as she raises 
her gloved arms and starts to stroke the back of my 
neck. 

"That's nice," I say. 

My hands stroke her breasts in return, then one hand 
moves down to her crotch and strokes her pussy through 
the scrap of gold cloth. 

"That's nice too," she says. 

My fingers play with one of the bows of her panties. 

"Wouldn't it be even nicer without ...?" 

She looks around the room, pretending to be anxious. 

"Are the other girls going nude too?" she asks. 
"Already?" 

"Yes," I say, reassuring her even though it isn't 
really true. "Or if not, they will as soon as they see 
you." 

She leans her head against my shoulder. 

"Then yes," she says softly. "Please. That would be so 
nice." 

Slowly my fingers pull the little bows apart, then 
remove the little panties. I feel the string at the 
back sliding sensuously along the crack of her arse. 
Then she is free, and I toss the little scrap of cloth 
onto a chair. My right hand is now stroking her naked 
pussy, probing into it, while the left returns to 
petting and squeezing her breasts. 

"Nice. Nice. Oh, deeper ..." she breathes. 

She rubs her naked bottom slowly against the bulge in 
my trousers. 

"Wouldn't you like to ...?" I say. 

"Isn't it a bit soon? What about the others?" 

"Don't worry. That's what we're all here for." 

"Yes, I suppose it is!" 

She turns round again in my arms and holds me close. 
Her hard nipples rub tantalisingly against my bare 
chest. 

"Then yes!" she says. "Yes, please! I want it so 
much." 

"Here?" I ask. "Where everyone can watch?" 

"Oh, yes ... yes, please ... that would be especially 
nice, wouldn't it?" 

== 

Again I stand alone in the living-room, waiting for 
Ayumi. She is taking her time. At last the door opens 
and she is there, flashing me a challenging smile. She 
is dressed in red: open bra and open panties in shiny 
red plastic material which outline her breasts and 
pussy without hiding them, and matching long gloves. 
She wears red high-heeled laced boots reaching 
half-way up her calves. All the straps of her bra and 
panties, and the surface of her gloves, are covered in 
little pointed studs in silver metal. She poses for 
me, putting one hand behind her head and the other on 
her hip. She is still looking at me as if inviting me 
to make the next move, knowing very well that she is a 
dream of kinky sexual possibility. 

I walk towards her and pick her up, one arm under her 
shoulders, the other under her knees. She kicks sexily 
with her legs and cuddles up against me. I can feel 
the metal points of her bra pressing against my bare 
chest. They are sharp: not sharp enough to draw blood 
but very cold and hard. I bend my head down and kiss 
her. She puts one gloved arm round my shoulders: I can 
feel the metal points there too. I lift her chest and 
kiss her breasts as they protrude from the open bra; 
then I bite her nipples hard. 

"Ooh!" she says. "Nice!" 

I carry her to the middle of the room and set her on 
her feet. She snuggles up against me, pressing the 
metal points into me. I can feel her erect nipples 
too, but they are so hard it is not easy to tell them 
apart from the metal studs. She wriggles and rolls 
herself against me, deliberately making the studs 
hurt. Then she pulls apart, and flashes me a knowing, 
sexy smile. 

"Are you enjoying it?" she asks. 

She sounds like me interrogating a new girl in my 
torture-chamber after the first few strokes of the 
whip. Then she wriggles round in my arms and I can 
feel the spikes on the back of her bra against my 
chest, and those on the waist of her panties pressing 
into my groin. She rests her head on my shoulder and 
looks up at me. 

"Some of my gentlemen find it very exciting when I 
dress like this," she murmurs. "They say they love the 
feel of the little spikes stimulating them as they 
fuck me. Do you find it stimulating too?" 

For a moment I am silent. She is releasing in me 
feelings and desires I would prefer not to know about. 
But then, I think, it is intriguing to find a new 
source of sexual pleasure in myself after so many 
years dedicated to releasing the sensuality of 
delightful Japanese girls. 

"Do you?" she asks again, pressing herself even harder 
into me. 

"Yes!" I say at last. "Oh, yes! How did you know? You 
are so clever ..." 

== 

Once again I am alone and waiting. I do my best to 
concentrate on what will happen next, and not to think 
about the experience I have just had with its strange 
implications for my sexuality. I had believed I 
understood it so clearly! That can wait for later. In 
the first rush of arousal stimulated by contact with 
Ayumi in her thrilling spiked outfit I cannot decide 
whether this is an experience I wish to repeat and 
explore, or not. 

The door opens and Ayumi enters for the third time. 
She is dressed in a stylised maid uniform. Her black 
support bra pushes her pretty breasts up and outwards 
without covering them; above her breasts is a band of 
frilly white lace, matching the tiny cap she wears in 
her hair, her little white collar and the lacy white 
gloves up to her wrists. She wears black high-heels, 
and black fishnet stockings held up by a 
suspender-belt. I do not think she is wearing any 
panties, but it is difficult to see as her crotch is 
covered - just - by a tiny, impracticable apron with a 
wide ribbon tied snugly round her waist in a big bow. 
She holds a little feather-duster with a long handle 
in her right hand. The effect is delightful, and could 
not be more different from the spiked red plastic she 
was wearing only minutes ago with its thrilling hints 
of sadism and domination. 

She bows respectfully, holding the duster horizontally 
across her lap. 

"Good evening, sir!" she says in a bubbly, little-girl 
voice. "Am I disturbing you?" 

"Not at all, Ayumi," I say. "Don't let me interrupt 
your work." 

"Thank you, sir! I do so want to please you and give 
you satisfaction." 

"You please me very much, Ayumi," I say.
 
"Oh, I am so glad, sir!" 

She comes towards me, tentatively, not wanting to 
force herself on me if I am busy. But I reach out and 
take her by her upper arm. She looks up at me 
innocently, her lips slightly parted. Her firm young 
breasts, provocative in her uplift bra, seem to be 
begging for attention. I pet and stroke them with my 
free hand. 

"Nice," I say. 

"Oh, thank you sir! I do so like wearing this uniform. 
Thank you for choosing it for me ..." 

I pinch one of her nipples gently. She giggles, 
blushes, and daringly tickles my bare chest with her 
feather-duster. 

"Do that more," I say. 

"Of course, sir! If you like it." 

"I do." 

We stand together, petting and tickling each other. 
Then I bend my head and kiss her half-open mouth. I 
put just the tip of my tongue between her lips, 
lightly touching hers. I pull apart for a moment and 
her dancing, sparkling eyes look into mine. Then we 
kiss again, more intensely this time, our tongues 
tangling until hers gives way and I tickle the inside 
of her mouth, relishing her sweet fresh saliva. Then I 
let her enter my mouth and try to do to me what I did 
to her. She giggles delightfully as she does so. I 
slide my hands down her back and hold her firm bottom. 
She wriggles against me and strokes my back with her 
free hand. At last our mouths come apart. 

"Oh, sir!" she says eagerly, "that was so lovely!" 

"It was, wasn't it? Take your apron off for me, will 
you?" 

"Yes, sir!" 

She moves away, puts down her duster and undoes the 
bow behind her back. She folds the little apron 
daintily and lays in neatly on a chair. I can now see 
clearly that she is wearing no panties. I take her in 
my arms again, and turn her to lean her back against 
me so that my hands can wander over her breasts and 
her deliciously hairless pussy. Already it is dripping 
cunt-juice. 

"Do you like working here, Ayumi?" 

"Oh, yes, sir! I love serving you and your guests! Do 
you often give big parties like this for your 
friends?" 

"Yes. Quite often." 

"Oooh!" 

I release her. She stands before me, eagerly awaiting 
instructions. 

"Walk around the room for me." 

She bows. As she walks she innocently shows off her 
delightful bottom and her legs, their shapeliness 
enhanced by the elegant fishnets and tall slender 
heels. As she turns she looks at me and smiles 
happily. I can wait no longer. 

"Come to me, then!" I say. 

I pick her up and carry her to the big sofa. I kneel 
beside her and kiss her; then nibble gently on her 
breasts, and finally bury my mouth in her pussy. The 
love-juice is delicious and the more I suck up the 
more she makes and drips into my mouth. I make her 
turn over and lie with her knees up so that I can 
plunge my tongue deeper into her cunt, and then move 
up to explore her delicious pink anus. She squeals 
with joy and pushes her bottom against me. 

Then it is my turn. I lie on the sofa while she 
strokes me charmingly, first my chest and then at last 
my cock. She reaches to the chair where she left her 
duster, and as she slides my erection into her mouth 
tickles my balls delightfully. 

"Don't you want me to come in your cunt?" I ask after 
a while. 

"Well, yes, if you like, sir," she says. "But I do so 
love it when you come in my mouth!" 

So of course I do. She sucks up every drop of cum, and 
then squats beside me on the sofa playing with it, 
letting it drip onto her fingers, licking it up again, 
swallowing it slowly. 

"Oh, sir, it's so delicious! Can I not have some 
more?" 

"Not just now, Ayumi. But I'm sure my guests will be 
delighted to serve you." 

"Ooh, thank you, sir! But I do hope I gave 
satisfaction?" 

"You certainly did, Ayumi. All three times. I think we 
can say you are now properly trained for party sex. 
Tomorrow we'll go to a real party and you can show 
everyone what you have learned." 

"Thank you, _sensei_," she says, no longer the 
obedient maid and returning to the pupil she really 
is. "I won't let you down." 

== 

So the next day I rang a few contacts and soon found 
out where a sex-party was being held that evening. Of 
course the host was delighted to invite me when I told 
him I would be bringing a new girl to her first party. 
She agreed without argument to my suggestion that she 
should wear the little gold panties and long gloves; 
and she was of course a great success. I surrendered 
the right to be the first to fuck my date so that she 
could offer herself to anyone who wanted her - as many 
did. I was pleased to see that, between sucking and 
fucking the cocks of our host and many fortunate 
guests, she joined in the pretty lesbian combinations 
that formed and reformed as the evening progressed. 

She seemed happy enough; but she was in a strange mood 
when at last we left the party. She was docile and 
obedient, and made no objection when I said it was 
time to go home; but she said nothing and seemed to be 
in a world of her own. The scraps of clothing she had 
been wearing when we arrived were lost for good, but I 
found her coat and she put it on without protest. I 
helped her into the passenger seat of the car and we 
drove home to my apartment in Akasaka, still in 
silence. 

When at last we were home, she sat on the edge of the 
bed while I helped her out of her high heels. She 
wriggled her toes luxuriously as the constricting 
shoes were slid off her feet, the first piece of 
natural behaviour I had seen since leaving the party 
with her. I urged her into the shower and she went 
willingly: soon I heard the spray of the water-jets. I 
looked in discreetly to make sure she was all right, 
and saw that she was washing herself though in a 
mechanical sort of way and without seeming to make use 
of the jets' masturbatory possibilities. Once she was 
dry and had brushed her hair, she slipped straight 
into bed and was soon fast asleep. 

Normally when I wake up in the morning beside a 
delightfully nude girl, the two of us spend the first 
half-hour or so of the day happily reliving our 
experiences of the previous evening. But although she 
was awake, she was still distant and unresponsive, 
gazing at the ceiling through half-closed eyelids, her 
fingers slowly fondling and twisting her nipples. So I 
left her alone and, having slipped on a _yukata_ and 
rubber _zori_ slippers, went downstairs to see about 
breakfast. I was hungry even if she wasn't. 

The late-spring weather was overcast and rather 
sultry: not a day for breakfasting on the terrace. I 
had just finished brewing coffee in the kitchen when I 
heard Ayumi on the stairs; she joined me in the 
kitchen, nude apart from her high-heels from the night 
before. I pulled out a chair for her at the kitchen 
table and gave her a mug of coffee, which she accepted 
without comment. I got on with my own breakfast while 
waiting for her to come back to her normal bubbly 
self. At last she put the mug down and looked at me. 

"Why is it all so wonderful?" she asked suddenly. 

I didn't waste time asking what she meant. It was 
obvious enough. 

"I don't know, my dear; but it is, and I'm so 
grateful." 

"I mean," she went on, trying hard to find words to 
express her thought, "with all that fucking last 
night, it wasn't just up to Heaven with the first man, 
down again, more please, up again with the next. It 
turned into a sort of endless orgasm. Whether I was 
being fucked or not. Every time a man took me, it 
pushed me even further up towards Heaven, and when he 
had finished with me, I just sort of stayed there." 

I nodded encouragingly. 

"And I was still up there when you brought me home and 
put me to bed. And when I fell asleep I had the most 
fantastic dreams. Of fucking and orgasm. Even more 
fantastic than the real thing. I woke up long before 
you did, and just lay there, remembering and 
enjoying." 

"I could see that," I said. "I thought I'd better just 
leave you to it." 

"Yes, thank you. That was good of you. You know, I 
just feel I can _never_, never get enough sex. The 
more I have, the more I want. I adore it, and I'm 
never satisfied. It's incredibly wonderful, that 
feeling. Is it very strange?" 

"No, I don't think so," I said thoughtfully. "I've 
known plenty of girls who feel the way you do. It may 
be ... I don't know, but I wonder if it isn't caused 
by fucking in public. Or with people watching, anyway. 
It's such an intense experience it could lead to a 
very high level of addiction ..." 

"Well, whatever it is I have, it's wonderful. I don't 
want to lose it. Ever. And I'm sure the way to hold on 
to it is by fucking as much as I possibly can. All the 
time. Without ever stopping." She smiled coquettishly 
and I could see the everyday Ayumi - the normal sexy 
girl I enjoyed so much - coming to the fore again. 
"So - what are we going to do today?" 

"Maybe we should go and see a movie?" I said. "Or just 
stay here and read books?" 

She stood up, walked towards me and pulled me to my 
feet. She reached behind me and undid the knot of my 
_obi_ sash, pushing it and my _yukata_ to the floor. 
Then she turned round, leant back against me and 
wriggled her firm bottom against my swelling erection. 
One of my hands found her pretty breasts, while the 
other moved down to tickle her pussy. 

"That's better," she said. "Ready now?" 

"I'm ready," I said. 

We walked together to the big couch in the 
living-room. 

"You will let me suck you, won't you?" she said 
anxiously as we sat down. 

"Of course. You do it beautifully. But there's always 
room for yet further improvement," I added, switching 
into _sensei_ mode. After all, she had come to me to 
be trained. 

"I do so love doing that. Controlling your lust. 
Making you come in my mouth ... drinking that 
delicious cream men make. You don't mind, do you?" 

"I don't mind. I don't think you'll ever meet a man 
who minds. Is it still your favourite kind of sex 
now?" 

"Oh, no. My favourite kind of sex now is whatever a 
man's cock is doing to me at the moment. But just now 
I want you to come in my mouth. I didn't have any 
breakfast, you see." 

"Help yourself. But don't forget to let me suck your 
cunt-juice. That's only fair." 

So she twisted round to sit on my face. For a while I 
held her there, enjoying the perfect contact between 
her beautiful hairless pussy and my lips and tongue. 
Then she slowly leant forward to draw my erection deep 
into her soft, clever mouth. 

== 

One afternoon, as Ayumi arrived for her lesson and was 
on the way to undress and put on her metal 
decorations, I stopped her. 

"We're going out together this afternoon," I said. "On 
a field-trip, you could say. So I'd like you to wear a 
dress. Find something fairly loose, with a wide skirt 
and cut low over the breasts." 

"Yes, _sensei_ - of course." 

It was barely five minutes later that Ayumi ran down 
the stairs in just the sort of dress I wanted. The 
skirt was short, of course, but swung nicely round her 
hips as she moved; and the upper part was low and 
loose enough to offer pretty glimpses of her breasts 
when she leant forward. 

"What sort of field-trip will it be?" she asked 
eagerly. 

"Well, some new experiences for you. Some useful 
training for your future, and some fun just for the 
sake of having fun." 

"Ooh! Where are we going?" 

"Asakusa." 

"I haven't been there for ages! What are we going to 
do?" 

"You'll find out when I'm ready to tell you. Meanwhile 
I have a few little toys for you. They are part of the 
fun. I hope you'll like them. Lift up your skirt." 

She did so, saying "You didn't tell me if I was to 
wear panties. So I didn't. Was that right?" 

"We'll see." 

I picked up a pair of egg vibrators: one medium size 
for her pussy, the other smaller. With her help I 
inserted the first deep into her cunt. When we were 
both satisfied that it was snugly placed where it 
could do most good, I instructed her to bend over, and 
pushed the smaller one into her anus. I coated my 
forefinger with baby-oil, and inserted it slowly up 
her arse, pushing the little toy before it. 

"Now, I leave it to you whether you need to wear 
panties," I said. "If you think your muscles are 
strong enough and well-trained enough to hold the 
devices in all afternoon, then it would be much nicer 
if you don't wear any. For both of us. But if you're 
concerned they may fall out, then perhaps you'd better 
wear something to hold them more firmly where they 
belong." 

She walked up and down for a while, clearly practicing 
and tensing the muscles of her cunt and arse. 

"If you don't mind," she said, "I think I can manage 
without panties. It would be much nicer, as you say." 

"Right. Come here." 

I showed her the little pair of steel pincers, each 
with a little metal ball dangling from it. She smiled 
happily, her eyes dancing. I put my hand down the 
front of her dress and attached the pincers to her 
nipples. 

"Ooh, lovely!" she said. 

"Tight enough?" 

"They could be tighter." 

I adjusted them. 

"Beautiful!" she said. "How do they all turn on?" 

"That's for me to decide," I said. 

I picked up the radio control. There were three on/off 
buttons and a volume slider. I pressed the button for 
the vibrator in her cunt. 

"Oooh!" she said, her hips quivering as her hands flew 
to her crotch. 

I added the arse vibrator. She bent forward with a 
squeal, her knees clapped together, unable to speak. 
Then I switched on the devices suspended from her 
nipples: they were not vibrators but were designed to 
transmit a random pattern of electric shocks. Finally, 
I gradually moved the volume control up till the 
little instruments were all working at full power. She 
screamed, and gradually collapsed into heap on the 
carpet, writhing and arching her back as the vibrators 
pleasured her mercilessly and the devices clamped to 
her breasts worked through their elaborate pattern of 
electric shocks. I let it all continue for five or ten 
minutes, looking down with pleasure on the pretty 
sight; then gradually reduced the volume and finally 
switched off the devices one by one. At last she was 
able to stand again. 

"Ohh!" she said. "Ohhh! How _wonderful_! Am I to ... 
you want me to ... go out in public with these ... not 
knowing when you'll switch them on ... and not letting 
anyone see what you're doing to me?" 

"That's the idea," I said. "Do you think you can 
manage?" 

"Oh, _yes_! I want to ... I must! It's so thrilling!" 

"I thought you'd like them," I said. 

I let her build up gradually as we walked down the 
street to the Akasaka Mitsuke subway station. I turned 
on the cunt vibrator, at low volume, without any 
warning of course. She let out a little squeal and 
stumbled slightly: a few passers-by looked at her in 
surprise but she recovered immediately. We had more 
fun on the train: it was not crowded at that time of 
day and she had a seat where she could hold the bars 
near the door to steady herself as I put the little 
machines through their paces, varying them and trying 
to take her by surprise. When we finally emerged into 
the open air, I turned everything off to give her a 
breather. 

"That was lovely!" she said. "Really thrilling! Now, 
are we walking?" 

"Yes." 

"So turn everything on. I think I can control myself 
now. It would be _such_ fun to be so near to orgasm, 
in public and not being allowed to let anyone know!" 

I did what she wanted, turning all three buttons on at 
once and flicking the volume control to maximum. She 
let out a gasp and clung to me for a moment. Then she 
turned, and walked steadily, with long sensuous 
strides, down the street towards the main gate of the 
huge Buddhist temple and into the long street of 
traditional shops. I let her get ahead of me, but 
still within range of the radio signals, so that I 
could enjoy watching her, so vulnerable and happy 
without me beside her. At last she stopped and waited 
for me to catch up. 

"I think I'd like some variation now," she said. 

I led the way from the bright lights of the temple 
complex down a maze of darker side-streets. On Ayumi's 
insistence I continued to play with the radio control, 
challenging her to break step whenever the vibration 
and the electric tingling suddenly changed. But she 
knew what to expect now, and I could no longer catch 
her unawares. Only her delighted cooing and aahing 
gave anything away. At last we arrived at the place I 
was looking for. I pressed an intercom button beside a 
discreet door. 

"Yes?" said a man's voice, with no attempt at any 
greeting. 

"Bob Williams. With a girl. To see the boss." 

"Upstairs." 

The door buzzed and we stepped into a dimly lit 
entrance hall. 

"What is this place?" asked Ayumi. 

"It's called Pinku Saron Bara." 

"What a pretty name!" 

"Before we go in," I said firmly, "you will remove 
your little toys." 

"Must I?" 

"Yes. You must." 

I reached down the front of her dress and unclipped 
the pincers from her nipples. Then, rather sadly, she 
lifted her skirt and pulled the vibrators from her 
pussy and arse. She handed the equipment to me. I 
wiped it carefully on a tissue and slipped it into my 
jacket pocket. 

"All right?" she said, standing very close to me. 

"Very all right." 

I kissed her, then urged her up the narrow stairs. At 
the top was a badly painted door. It opened as I 
pushed it and we found ourselves in a small and very 
untidy office. A middle-aged man in slacks and an 
open-necked shirt sat at a small metal desk. 

"Evening, Bob. Long time. Who's this?" 

"Ayumi-san," I said. 

"She want to work here?" 

"Yes. She doesn't know she wants to, but she does." 

"Good. I like keen girls." He turned to Ayumi, who was 
breathing fast and was obviously stimulated by what 
she imagined was about to happen. "All right. Take 
your dress off." 

I was impressed that Ayumi did not waste time 
protesting, or pretending to be surprised. She 
immediately turned her back on the man, and reached 
her hand behind herself to unzip her dress. She looked 
shyly over her shoulder at the man and said, "Help me, 
please?" 

Very good, I thought. Of course she doesn't need help, 
but it's a nice, teasing thing to say. He reached for 
her, and unzipped her in a single movement. "Ooh! 
Thank you!" she said as she turned to face him, let 
her dress fall to the floor, stepped out of it and 
handed it to me to hold. He looked at her nude body 
with approval, and swung round from his desk in his 
swivel chair. He pointed at the floor, and at once 
Ayumi was on her knees in front of him, fumbling with 
his trousers. She soon had his erect cock in her 
hands. She gazed at it with a loving smile, then 
looked up at his face. 

"Ooh," she said, "it's so lovely and _big_! But maybe 
I can make it even bigger ..." 

She took it into her mouth while he leant back in his 
chair and watched her bent head as she worked. After a 
while he simply commanded, "Umanori!" 

She looked up, puzzled for a moment by this command 
for horse-riding. Before she could work out the 
meaning for herself, he snapped his fingers and said, 
"On my lap!" 

"Oh yes! Of course!" 

She stood astride his thighs and held his erection 
delicately with one hand as she slowly impaled herself 
on it. She whimpered with pleasure and in little gasps 
thanked him for the happiness he was giving her. It 
seemed strange to hear her encouraging him as she had 
so often done to me. I could tell that she was 
pleasuring him by rippling her cunt muscles along the 
length of his shaft. They came together quite soon, he 
letting out a shout of pleasure and she telling him 
how wonderful he had been. 

Then she stood up. He grabbed some tissues from a box 
on his desk and wiped himself. 

"You can wash in there," he said briefly, pointing to 
a little door between metal filing cabinets. 

"Thank you, sir," said Ayumi. "You were _so_ good to 
me! Please do that to me again ... soon ..." She 
bowed, collected her dress as she passed me, and 
disappeared. 

"Not bad," he said. "I can use her. How old?" 

"Seventeen," I said firmly. 

He looked up at me with a cunning expression. 

"That means I can't pay her. Underage." 

"You can pay me," I suggested. 

"What are you? Husband? Business partner?" 

"No. Just her ... teacher." 

"What are you teaching her?" 

"She wants to be an AV star." 

"Huh. You like living in Japan?" 

"You know I do." 

"You want to be thrown out? Have to go back to 
screwing western women?" 

"Of course not." 

"Then let's not hear any more about payment. Not until 
she's eighteen, anyway." 

"Exploitation, isn't it?" I said with a smile, knowing 
I had lost. 

"Yes. Japanese girls enjoy being exploited. _You_ know 
that. That's why you live here." 

I shrugged. 

"All right. She'll do it for nothing." 

"Of course she'll do it for nothing. She _wants_ to do 
it for nothing. She's dreaming of nothing else. She's 
a depraved slut - with the face and body of an 
angel." 

There was a short pause. I searched for some way of 
reasserting myself. 

"Are you allowing genital-to-genital contact here 
now?" I asked, knowing very well that he did. 

He looked at me. There was anger in his eyes. 

"Don't try to make anything of that! The law's 
changing ... the police have more important things to 
bother about." 

"Good ..." I said vaguely. "She'll enjoy that." 

The door opened and Ayumi returned, her dress now 
covering her nakedness and looking, as always after 
sex, fresh and virginal. A depraved slut with the face 
and body of an angel ... I had the impression she had 
been listening to our conversation. 

The man swung round in his chair and pulled open a 
door. I could hear the amplified voice of the clerk 
instructing girls which cubicles to go to where 
customers were waiting for them. When he paused for a 
moment, the boss called out, "Is Sachiko free?" 

"Yes," came the reply: "she's taking a break." 

"Send her in here, will you?" 

Almost at once there was a tap at the door and a 
smartly dressed young woman entered. The boss pointed 
at Ayumi. 

"This is ... oh, what's your name?" 

"Ayumi, sir." 

"This is Ayumi. She'll be starting here tomorrow. Take 
her round with you, will you? Show her what to do, 
make sure she knows what the men mean and what they 
want." 

"Yes, sir," said Sachiko. She smiled at Ayumi. "Come 
with me. I'll make sure you understand the system 
..." 

The two girls left and before the door closed the boss 
called out to the despatching clerk again, "I'm 
letting Bob-san use the special room. Send him a 
couple of good girls and make sure they look after 
him." 

"Yes, sir." 

He closed the door again. 

"Go to number 17. You're my guest." 

"That's very kind of you." 

He shrugged and turned his attention to the pile of 
pornographic pictures on his desk. 

Number 17 was clearly used for special occasions. It 
had a proper bed with clean sheets, instead of the 
armchair which was all that Pink Salon Bara provided 
for its customers during their fifteen-minute sessions 
in the little cubicles. There was even a little 
washroom. I felt very privileged - even more so when 
the door opened and two of the establishment's most 
charming girls came in. They got down to work at once, 
stripping prettily for me and asking me eagerly what 
sort of services I required. I dragged the appropriate 
specialist vocabulary out of my memory. They giggled 
happily and soon I was lying on my back, one girl 
treating me to her juicy pussy while the other 
skilfully sucked my cock. They had obviously been 
instructed not to hurry, so I took my time and fucked 
both their willing cunts. Then they thanked me 
prettily, and returned to their fifteen-minute duties 
in the cubicles.[14] 

== 

"Ooh, that was _such_ fun!" said Ayumi, skipping along 
beside me as we followed the narrow streets back to 
Asakusa Temple and the station. "Thank you so much for 
taking me there!" 

"Sachiko showed you what to do, did she?" 

"Oh, yes! We looked discreetly into lots of the 
cubicles, and saw what the girls were doing to the 
customers. Sachiko taught me what the men call all the 
various services on the menu so that I'd know what 
they were asking for when I start work tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow?" 

"Of course! Wasn't that what you had in mind? The 
dispatcher said he was so glad to have a new girl like 
me who was so keen! And Sachiko said the others would 
be pleased because there was so much to do and they 
needed more girls badly." 

"What time tomorrow?" I asked. 

"Well, while you were having fun with those two 
girls," said Ayumi, a bit severely, "I was learning 
the rules of the Salon. Each sex session lasts a 
maximum of fifteen minutes - a little bit less if 
possible, so you've just got time to clean yourself 
before going to the next customer." 

"Yes," I said. "The establishment is based on low 
charges and rapid throughput. It's a bit too 
mechanical for me ..." 

"Anyway," she went on, "the girls work four-hour 
shifts, which means sixteen customers; then we have 
thirty minutes off." 

I noted the "we". 

"And how many shifts?" 

"Two a day. That means thirty-two customers." 

She grabbed my arm and jumped up and down with 
excitement. 

"Enough for you?" I asked. 

"Of course not!" she said with a delicious giggle. 
"But it's a start. I'm to be there by 10 tomorrow. 
That means ..." she counted on her fingers "first 
shift 10 till 2; then a break, then second shift 2.30 
till 6.30. So I should be back in time to do whatever 
you want me for in the evening." She stopped for a 
moment then started skipping again. "Oh, I'm _so_ 
looking forward to it!" 

As we entered the station, she went on: "Now, let me 
have those lovely toys again for the journey home, and 
see if you can take me by surprise!" 

"No," I said firmly. 

"But you must! I haven't had _anything_ since the boss 
fucked me - and I've been watching all that lovely sex 
going on in the cubicles - you must see that I'm 
desperate!" 

"That's the way I like my girls to be," I said. 

"Oh, _please_!" 

"No." 

"I think that's very unkind of you," she grumbled. 
"After all, you had those two girls ... you'll have to 
fuck me extra specially well when we get home ... _if_ 
you still can!" 

As we entered the lobby of my apartment block, we were 
greeted by Michel, a young Frenchman who worked at the 
Alliance Francaise and rented one of the smaller 
apartments on the floor below mine. He looked at Ayumi 
with obvious approval, and she blushed, looked up at 
him from lowered eyes, fiddled with her hair and did 
the other things girls do when they are attracted to a 
man. We entered the elevator together: I think Michel 
normally used the stairs, and came with us only to 
have more time to enjoy looking at Ayumi. I felt her 
good work during the day deserved a reward, so before 
Michel was able to leave us at his floor, I asked, 

"Doing anything this evening?" 

"No, nothing much ..." he said, hoping he was right in 
his guess of what I meant. 

"Well, come and join us. Why don't you?" 

"Yes ... er ... I'd love to." 

Ayumi smiled bashfully at him, and when the doors 
opened I let them leave the lift together. I unlocked 
the apartment door and stood aside as they entered; 
Michel took her by the elbow and then, as she leant 
towards him without quite touching him, slipped his 
arm round her waist. We stood together in the 
living-room, neither Michel nor I quite sure what move 
to make first. Then Ayumi turned to me with a smile. 

"Help me out of this ...?" she said tentatively, then 
turned her back to me. I slid the zip slowly down her 
dress. She let the front fall, slipping her arms out 
of the sleeves: not looking at Michel but making sure 
he received the full benefit of her nakedness. Then at 
last she eased the dress over her hips and dropped it 
to the floor. Michel smiled appreciatively: there is a 
special pleasure in finding that a girl one wants is 
fully nude under her dress - all the greater when you 
know she has for hours been so teasingly available in 
public. Ayumi posed for him, wriggled her bottom 
briefly against my crotch, picked up her dress and 
made for the open staircase. 

"I shan't be long ..." she said over her shoulder as 
she ascended the stairs, enjoying the tingle that 
girls feel - so they tell me - when they know that 
their nudity is being watched by an appreciative and 
aroused audience. 

"Very nice," said Michel once she had disappeared. 
"Mignonne ... how do you say? Cute." 

"Yes," I said. 

"How old is she?" 

"Seventeen. Or so she says." 

"How did you find her?" 

"She was sent to me for training." 

"Training for what?" he asked. But I guessed he 
already knew. 

"She dreams of being an AV actress," I said. "You 
know, in pornographic videos. I'm teaching her what 
she needs to know. For that and for the other things 
she'll need to do in the sex industry." 

"Nice work." 

I did not bother to reply. I started undressing so as 
to be ready for Ayumi when she returned, and after a 
moment he did the same. He was a handsome, 
well-muscled man with his clothes off, and I guessed 
he had no difficulty finding Japanese girls to fuck. 
All the more so when he removed his underpants and 
revealed a truly gigantic cock, already half erect in 
anticipation of Ayumi's return. Japanese girls would 
love that, I thought. At any rate, I knew one who 
would ... 

A door closed upstairs and Ayumi descended the stairs 
- slowly, knowing that she was making a big entrance. 
She had showered quickly and refreshed her make-up and 
scent. She was wearing mostly the pretty jewellery 
which I had specified when she first came to me, but 
she had clearly been raiding the drawers in which I 
kept items bought to adorn so many pretty girls over 
the years. She still had long sparkling decorations 
hung from her ears, from her navel-stud and from the 
sweet little clamps on her nipples, but little silver 
bells now dangled from them. Snugly round her neck she 
wore her usual silver collar, slave-bangles - 
deliciously suggestive of bondage and submission - 
clasped her upper arms, and she wore matching 
wrist-cuffs. On her feet she wore a pair of short 
high-heeled boots; they were a snug fit, especially 
when laced tightly over her feet and ankles as now, 
and the long metal heels forced her to balance 
uncertainly on her highest tiptoes. But they 
emphasised, as well-designed high heels should, the 
lovely curve of her little feet, and Ayumi knew the 
teetering, helpless walk was very arousing, so she was 
obviously enjoying wearing them. Michel gazed at her 
enraptured, and even I was impressed by her beauty. 

She joined us wearing the slightly withdrawn smile 
girls adopt when they know they are admired, and 
deserve to be. She went up to Michel in a charmingly 
comic mixture of a slut longing to be fucked and a 
hostess putting a guest at his ease. 

"I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting ..." she began. 
Her eyes left his face, travelled down his muscular 
torso, and stopped when they encountered his cock, now 
fully erect. She let out a little gasp. "Oooh!" she 
said, "isn't it _beautiful_!" Her hands, seeming to 
act outside her control, reached out and gently took 
it, stroking it, feeling its length. 

"You like cocks?" said Michel, obviously familiar with 
Japanese feminine response to his erection. 

"I _love_ cocks!" she replied. "I always have done. 
Since the very first one I saw, and touched, when I 
was _very_ young, and just beginning to enjoy sex ... 
but yours is _amazing_!" 

She fell to her knees in front of him, her silver 
bells tinkling, and supported herself with one hand 
against his thigh, while the other continued caressing 
his cock. At once her mouth joined in, kissing it 
reverently, beginning to tickle it with little 
cat-like strokes of her tongue. Michel glanced towards 
me, worried perhaps that he was presuming on his 
status as guest by using my girl in front of me, but I 
smiled and gestured to him to continue. After the 
draining performance of the two experts at the Pink 
Salon Bara, I was in any case in no hurry to compete: 
a good demonstration would be fun to watch, and would 
stimulate my lust, returning it to its usual level. 

He knelt with her on the floor: they twisted round 
each other so that she could continue stroking his 
cock with one hand while he kissed her mouth and 
played with her firm breasts, making her long 
nipple-decorations flash and tinkle and tightening the 
jaws of the clamps. She was letting out pretty 
whimpers of lust between his kisses, and then begged, 
"Oh, let me! Please let me!" 

She helped him onto his back; then crouched between 
his legs, sucking his cock and gazing adoringly up at 
him. She occasionally emptied her mouth long enough to 
say, "Oh, it's so _beautiful_! It's the loveliest I've 
ever had!" 

"Let me suck you too," said Michel. 

"Yes ... but please let me go on sucking you! I adore 
it ... and I want to know what you taste like!" she 
added with a provocative giggle. 

She swung round over his body and soon he had her cunt 
positioned over his mouth. With his left hand he 
grasped her thigh, holding her in place; with his 
right he played with her little, tight-fitting boot, 
stroking the black leather and the long metal heel. I 
pulled a couple of cushions off the sofa and placed 
them under his head for him so that his tongue could 
penetrate her pussy more easily. Ayumi was sucking and 
slurping, her mouth forced wide open by the huge girth 
of his magnificent cock, while her nipple- and 
navel-decorations dragged teasingly over his chest. 
His tongue was deep inside her now and I guessed her 
fresh young cunt-juice was cascading deliciously into 
his mouth. He withdrew his right hand from her ankle, 
coated his forefinger with her juice, and pressed the 
tip against her pretty pink arsehole. I could hear 
muffled squealing from Ayumi as this wonderful new 
sensation reached her and began to drive her mad with 
lust; her anus, relaxed by her earlier session with 
the vibrator, opened a little and his finger drove 
through the tight ring of muscle entering deep, deep 
into her fundament. 

Ayumi was screaming with joy now, and at the same time 
gagging as the head of Michel's cock pressed against 
her throat. I could tell that the sensation this gave 
him, combined with the stimulation of her clever 
tongue and lips, was taking him close to orgasm. His 
left hand was now holding her waist, crushing her down 
onto him. He freed his mouth from her cunt enough to 
shout, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" and I thought I could 
just make out a strangled cry of "Yes, darling, yes! 
yes!" 

They lay together for a few minutes, sucking and 
swallowing; then Ayumi wriggled off him and sat up, 
her jewellery swinging and flashing in the light. 
Michel propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at 
her. 

"Ohh, that was lovely!" she said, her hands still 
playing with his cock. "You came _lots_! And it tastes 
_so_ good!" 

"You taste good too," said Michel. 

"But please - oh, _please_ don't let it ... don't put 
it away yet! I must have it again. In my pussy. It 
would feel _so_ fantastic ..." 

"Sure. You'll just have to help me ..." 

She concentrated on stroking him, stimulating him to 
remain erect. He watched her with obvious pleasure. At 
last she was satisfied with her handwork. 

"There!" she said proudly. "Big and hard again!" And 
then she added submissively, "how would you like to 
have me?" 

"How about on your hands and knees?" 

"Ooh, yes, nice! And you'll enter me from behind?" 

"Yes. If you're sure it won't be to big for you ...?" 

"Of _course_ it will be too big for me!" said Ayumi 
happily. "That's why I want it so much! I'm sure it 
will feel _heavenly_." 

So she positioned herself as instructed on the carpet, 
and Michel knelt behind her. He gave her no extra 
lubrication, feeling no doubt that the flow of her 
juice was more than enough. And that if she wanted to 
enjoy the forceful entry of his enormous cock as much 
as he was looking forward to the constriction of her 
young cunt, he should plunge straight into her. 

Her screams, and the look of bliss on her face, were 
very arousing. I was fully recovered by now and ready 
to take a full part in this joyous violation. I moved 
round on my knees to her head end and offered my 
erection to her lips. "Oh, yes, yes!" she said as she 
took the tip into her mouth; and then became 
speechless as I thrust the whole length into her 
mouth, over her tongue and through the constriction of 
her throat. She rocked to and fro between us 
encouraging us to co-ordinate our movements back and 
forth a little way out of our chosen holes before 
slamming back into them as deeply as we could manage. 
Ecstatically, she gripped the invading erections 
tightly - at least she was doing that to me with her 
mouth and throat and I must assume she was squeezing 
Michel for all she was worth with her cunt-muscles. 
From time to time we looked at each other over her 
heaving body, but mostly we were each lost in our 
individual pleasure. It could not last long, and soon 
we exploded more or less together, shooting our cum 
deep into her. She herself had been coming non-stop 
from the first moment of Michel's longed-for 
penetration of her cunt. 

== 

"What do you like best in all the world, Ayumi-chan?" 
he asked, in the mood now for a little sexy 
conversation. Most men find it stimulating to hear a 
pretty young girl coyly describing her sexual 
interests. Especially when the pretty young girl 
happens to be nude. 

She giggled. "Guess!" she said. 

"You enjoy taking your clothes off, teasing men with 
your nakedness?" 

"Of course!" she said, a little surprised. "Every girl 
loves doing that." 

"And every man loves having it done to him." 

"Then when I'm nude, it's such fun to masturbate while 
everyone watches." 

"Yes, it's nice to watch pretty girls coming, and they 
come much more when they know they're being watched." 

"But the best is what happens after that ..." 

"Being fucked, you mean?" 

Of course she meant that, but Michel knew how nice it 
would be to hear her say it. 

"Yes. Being fucked," she said, looking up at him with 
a pretty blush. "Especially while the others watch." 

"In your cunt? In your mouth?" 

"Oh, _yes_! I love cum! I love the taste, the smell 
... I always have done, I'll never forget the first 
time a boy came in my mouth. It was _lovely_!" 

"So you like fucking, being nude, in public - 
especially in front of an audience?" 

"Oh, _yes_! It's the _best_! When I discovered that, 
then I knew, I really knew - what I wanted to do ... 
that I just _had_ to be a dancer in a striptease 
theatre - a nude hostess in a sex-club - an actress in 
fuck videos ... oh, I want to do all those lovely 
things - _so_ much!" 

"Where are you working now?" he asked. 

"Ayumi is still being trained," I interrupted quickly, 
before she had time to tell him about her appointment 
tomorrow with the Pink Salon Bara. "But she has an 
offer from a big fuck-video studio, as soon as she's 
eighteen." 

"That's a long while to wait ... and such a waste of 
talent," said Michel. 

"Yes, it is ..." said Ayumi sadly. 

"I can see you have to be careful while you are still 
underage," he said, "but I think I can take you to a 
place which would suit you ... and where the 
management are discreet." 

Ayumi looked at him happily, her eyes sparkling and 
the little bells swaying and tinkling from her 
nipples. She looked irresistible, I had to admit. 

"It's a gentlemen's club I go to sometimes," he began 
to explain slowly. "Like any other such club: a bar, 
billiard tables, comfortable chairs. The unique point 
about it is that all the girls are completely nude, 
and of course available." 

"Aaah ..." said Ayumi, already imagining it. 

"They serve the gentlemen nude, play billiards with 
them nude, and of course are always ready to be fucked 
any way a gentleman wishes." 

"Oooh ..." said Ayumi, her fingers stealing down to 
her cunt. 

"The other evening we had one of our special 
competitions: four girls are chosen to play each other 
at billiards, and we try to put them off their shots 
by stroking their breasts and pussies as they lean 
over the table." 

"Oh, how lovely!" said Ayumi. "Is there a prize for 
the winner?" 

"Well, yes; but it's silly really. The winner gets 
fucked of course as a prize, but the other three get 
fucked too. Still, no one objects: the girls are 
pretty aroused by then with all that petting and 
stroking - and so are the men who were doing it to 
them, so it's quite an exhibition." 

"Lovely!" said Ayumi again. "Have you thought of doing 
it the other way round?" 

"How do you mean?" 

"You know, four men play and we girls try to distract 
them by stroking them, sucking them ..." 

I noted the "we". 

"That's a great idea!" Michel was saying. "You'd 
better come and organise it for us." 

"Will you really take me there?" 

"Of course. You'd be very popular." 

She suddenly looked down at his cock as it lay in her 
hands. "There! It's quite hard again! And it's _so_ 
beautiful ... Oh, _please_ fuck me again! I want to 
imagine that I'm serving you at that wonderful club." 

== 

The next day Ayumi woke bright and early, already 
chattering about the thrilling experience that lay 
ahead of her. She fucked me nicely, while I pretended 
to be still half asleep; then danced off to the 
kitchen to fix herself some breakfast. She decided to 
wear the same dress as the previous day, saying 
rightly that its loose, wide skirt would be convenient 
when visiting lover after lover in their cubicles; no 
underwear, and medium heels. She kissed me good-bye 
and rushed off. 

I was glad to have the apartment to myself for the 
day. I was behind with several writing assignments, 
and went straight to the computer as soon as I had 
made myself some coffee. Then in the afternoon a pupil 
came for a lesson. She was a charming and 
well-brought-up girl of very good family with a degree 
from a provincial university, who was already making a 
career for herself in the sex-trade where her 
"princess" style was much in demand. She still 
insisted on seeing me for occasional refresher 
sessions - usually in my torture-chamber as her 
sexuality had blossomed into a special love for BDSM 
and fetish sex. I was trying to teach her to beg 
prettily for mercy when she was tied up and being 
whipped. She knew very well, of course, that pathetic 
entreaties of "_please_ don't hurt me!" were very 
stimulating to her lovers, and were the best way of 
ensuring that they whipped her harder and more 
sadistically than ever - which was what both they and 
she most enjoyed. Before we started I would rehearse 
her, and she would beg for mercy in the most 
delightful way, protesting her innocence and imploring 
her torturer to spare her this unbearable agony. That 
of course would get the session off to an excellent 
start. But then, as she stood tightly bound in the 
whipping frame, my plaited leather whip hissing round 
her trembling nakedness, she simply forgot everything 
and could only beg me to whip her yet harder and give 
her more of the exquisite pleasure which she adored 
and couldn't live without. Well, that was quite 
stimulating too, of course, and in the end I decided 
to leave her pretty, naive enthusiasm untouched. 

That afternoon an hour of whipping had left us both 
pleasantly tired and in need of relief, so I untied 
her and together, arms round each other, we walked 
slowly to the living-room and made slow, gentle love 
on the carpet. We had hardly finished when the phone 
rang. 

It was Ayumi. I looked at my watch: it was twenty to 
seven. She must have just finished her second shift, 
and be ready to leave the salon. I hoped she wasn't 
going to be difficult and ask me to fetch her. 

"Bob," she said in a low, rapid voice, "I'm going to 
be later back than planned." 

"Really? What's happened?" 

"Well, one of the girls on the evening shift has had 
to cancel. So of course I volunteered to help cover 
for her." 

"Of course." 

"I'm doing the first of her four-hour shifts, and then 
another girl will take over for the second. So that 
means ... this is my rest after my second shift ... 
that means I start again at seven and won't finish 
till eleven." She giggled. "And another sixteen 
customers!" 

"Can you manage?" I asked, knowing it was a stupid 
question. 

"Of _course_!" said Ayumi scornfully. "Don't you think 
I'm lucky to be given this extra chance?" 

"Yes, I suppose so. Will you be all right coming home 
on your own that late?" 

"Of course!" she said again. 

"You don't want me to come and fetch you?" 

"No, I'll be all right. Listen, I must go now. It's 
nearly time." 

She hung up. 

"Was that your next pupil?" the girl asked. 

"Yes. She'll be late." 

"Oh," she said; and then added nervously, "so perhaps 
I may stay a little longer?" 

"Do you want to?" 

"Oh, yes! If I'm no trouble ..." 

"Of course you're no trouble!" 

She blushed prettily, the blood colouring her breasts 
as well as her face and neck. 

"Will you ... I mean, will you please whip me again? 
It was _so_ beautiful." 

"I would enjoy that ... but I think I have something 
else for you. A special treat for being such a good 
pupil." 

Back in the torture-chamber I took her over to the 
red-painted metal X-frame which was fixed to one wall. 
Normally I prefer to work with an open whipping-frame 
which gives all-round access to a girl, but what I had 
in mind now was rather different. I fixed her wrist- 
and ankle-cuffs to the four points of the frame with 
short chains: not stretching her tightly, it would be 
agreeable to see her wriggle. Then, just for 
decoration, I buckled a wide belt, matching her cuffs, 
round her waist. I patted her cheek and gave her 
nipples a friendly tweak. 

"You look very desirable, chained up like that." 

"Do I? I'm so glad. Are you ... are you going to whip 
me?" 

"Do you want me to?" 

"Of course! It's _so_ wonderful." 

"Well, I think you'll like this too." 

I started by attaching small metal plates to her erect 
nipples: not too tight, just enough for a good 
electrical contact. She let out a little gasp as the 
clips gripped her. Then I knelt down and carefully 
inserted a matched pair of vibrators deep into her 
cunt and arsehole. 

"The vibrators will give you intense pleasure," I 
explained when I was satisfied. "And the nipple-clamps 
will deliver equally intense pain. The two combined 
should produce a very interesting effect." 

"Mm'mm." 

"After all, that's how a girl learns to love pain, 
isn't it? She is stimulated with pleasure to the point 
of orgasm, and then suddenly given a shot of intense 
pain - from a whip, perhaps." 

"Yes, that's how it happened to me. Does it happen 
like that to all girls?" 

"Well, to the lucky ones anyway. It's called 
association. Associating orgasm with pain so that in 
future pain will always cause orgasm. The right sort 
of pain, at any rate." 

"I'm glad I was one of the lucky ones." 

"So am I. And it doesn't do any harm to reinforce the 
association occasionally. Ready?" 

"Yes." 

I started with the vibrators since they took a few 
seconds to reach their full effect. As soon as I heard 
her begin to moan with happiness from the pleasure 
they were giving her, I switched on the electric 
current to her breasts. She flung her head back and 
screamed. Her body tensed in its bonds. I sat and 
watched her, letting it continue for a full minute, 
then switched everything off. 

"How was that?" I asked, when her breathing and 
heartbeat had returned to something like normal. 

"Fantastic!" she said, as I had known she would. 
"More! Oh, more please!" 

"How long do you want it for?" I asked, teasing her. I 
already knew the answer. 

"For ever and ever!" she begged. 

"Right. I'll set the controls to random, so they can 
take you by surprise all the time. I don't want you to 
get bored, with the same thing all the time." 

I forestalled any argument by turning the vibrators 
and the clamps on together. She screamed again; then 
began to moan as she approached orgasm, wriggling 
prettily in her bonds. Just to prove my point about 
pain causing orgasm in a well-trained girl, I switched 
off the vibrators and set the clamps to deliver a 
variable but always high level of electricity. Soon 
the screams of agony mingled with strangled cries of 
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" 

I nodded to her in a friendly way, and returned all 
the controls to the "random" setting. 

"Well, I'll leave you, then. I have work to do. I may 
even forget you're here. But I'll try not to." 

I knew of course that the idea of being abandoned and 
forgotten as the equipment tirelessly pleasured and 
tormented her would add to her orgasmic stimulation. 
In fact there was a monitor screen on the desk in my 
study, intended for just such occasions, so that I 
could enjoy the sight of my victim as I worked, and 
make sure she was safe and nothing had gone wrong with 
the equipment. So there was no danger in leaving her 
to writhe and scream to her heart's content for as 
long as I liked. The door to the torture-chamber 
closed smoothly behind me as I left. 

I went first to the kitchen and fixed myself something 
to eat. Only when I had finished and cleared away did 
I go to my study. On the monitor the girl was still 
struggling helplessly in orgasmic agony: all seemed to 
be well. The words began to come easily as I sat in 
front of the computer, and I was enjoying myself 
writing a detailed description of a newly opened Tokyo 
sex-club for an American travel magazine. When I again 
looked at the time it was past eleven. Ayumi would be 
home shortly. 

I went hurriedly to the torture-chamber. She was 
hanging in her chains, having obviously fainted. I 
turned off the instruments - gradually, so that her 
dream would fade slowly and leave happy memories - and 
released her, then supported her carefully to the 
narrow couch against the opposite wall. The cool touch 
of the black leather soon revived her. 

"Ohh ... ohhh ... that was ... ohhhh!" she said as her 
eyes opened. 

"Are you all right?" 

"Yes ... yes, of course! How long was I there?" 

"About four hours. I'm sorry - I ..." 

"Oh, it was wonderful! You must let me have that again 
next time I come!" 

"I think you'd better shower now," I said. I wanted 
her out of the way before Ayumi returned. 

"Yes ... yes, of course." 

I supported her down the corridor to the bedroom 
suite. I unlocked her cuffs, helped her out of her 
tight high-heels and handed her a big fluffy 
bath-towel. 

"Don't be too long," I said. "I have someone coming 
..." 

"Promise ... promise to do that to me again!" she 
said. "For even longer ... suppose I came for a 
weekend and you did it to me non-stop?" 

"Yes, that would be nice," I said, not very keen to 
have my torture-chamber occupied for such a long time 
and unavailable for other girls. "But I have another 
idea. Why don't you do it in public? You know, at a 
fancy sex-party for example? I could lend the host the 
equipment - if he doesn't have it already - and you 
could hang there screaming all night. It would be nice 
for you, and very stimulating for the other guests." 

"Oh - that's a lovely idea! Would you do that? I'll 
let you know next time I'm due at the right sort of 
party." 

== 

Ayumi learnt quickly and I soon decided to move on to 
training she needed for public appearances. First 
however she had to have her nipples pierced. She had 
been begging me for weeks to arrange this for her, and 
had decided that she could risk any criticism from her 
mother. While it is of course perfectly possible for a 
girl to have a successful career in the upper reaches 
of the sex industry without piercings, Ayumi already 
had a pretty navel-stud and her pert breasts could 
only be made more desirable by similar enhancement. 
While piercings are not yet common in Japan, enough 
girls have them - especially dancers, strippers and 
porn models - to make them admired and sought after. 
So one day I made an appointment for her with a 
piercing studio. She enjoyed the process and was 
charmingly grateful to me, even though her beautified 
breasts, however tempting to my hands and mouth, were 
strictly off limits for some time while they healed. 

Once that was over, I started the training in how to 
make the most of her provocative new beauty in public. 
Here is another note of a training session I made at 
the time. 

== 

She enters, confident, self-possessed, and stands 
where I can see her. She does not look at me. She 
turns, poses: hands behind her neck so that I can 
enjoy the lift of her breasts; hands stroking her flat 
stomach; hands caressing the lovely firm curves of her 
arse. She does not look at me, her audience: she wants 
me (us) to think she is showing herself off for her 
own pleasure. As, of course, she is. 

She is wearing some of the silver decorations I chose 
for her on her first day here: the metal collar snug 
round her neck and broad bands in smooth metal round 
her wrists and also her upper arms - hinting 
delightfully, for all her independence of attitude, at 
the slavery she secretly longs to accept. She wears 
silver sandals with the highest heels she can manage, 
bound to her feet by long leather thongs twisted round 
her calves and tied in tight bows. Her naked breasts 
are decorated with small metal discs, her hard nipples 
poking saucily through the centre holes. She has 
removed the little sleepers which hold open the holes 
I have just paid to have drilled through her nipples, 
and replaced them with slim silver bars, sharply 
pointed at each end, which hold the discs in place - 
and also force her rock-hard nipples into their 
maximum erection. The pins look as if they had been 
thrust agonisingly through her flesh rather than 
simply threaded painlessly through the prepared holes. 
Imagining the self-inflicted torture she might be 
suffering, and the stimulation it would give her if 
she were, adds delightfully to the charmingly arousing 
effect of the pretty decorations. A matching disc 
covers her navel, another silver pin attaching it to 
her stud. She wears nothing else, and her naked pussy 
is, as always, completely hairless. The innocence of 
her apparently virginal pussy combines piquantly with 
the provocatively adult kinkiness she is displaying as 
she shows off her decorated nudity. 

She comes closer, still pretending to ignore her 
audience. She dances sensuously, languorously, keeping 
for the moment just out of reach of my hands. I try to 
imagine the effect she will create in a nightclub, 
against a suitably erotic background and glamorously 
lit. She plays with a silver rod, a little more than a 
metre in length, twirling it in her fingers and 
occasionally pressing one end against her pussy as she 
dances. I try to forget that I know what this elegant 
toy can do - her audience in the nightclub will not 
know; it will be a nice surprise for them. 

At last she looks at me. With her free hand she unzips 
my trousers, feels inside and frees my erect cock. She 
smiles coquettishly and strokes it a few times, making 
my desire for her even more intense. She moves away, 
and mimes doing the same to the others in the 
audience. I long, of course, for her to return to me. 

Now she holds her rod in both hands. She runs one hand 
along its full length, pulling a hidden slide. From 
the end strands of some flexible silver material begin 
to emerge. She plays with them, separating them, 
kissing them. They are very fine, little more than 
silver wires. They will glitter beautifully in the 
nightclub lighting. She steps forward again, raises 
the rod above her head, and allows the tips of the 
strands to tickle my cock and balls. The effect is 
very agreeable - then suddenly more than that, as the 
metallic coating makes me tingle delightfully. She 
pulls the strands away from me; then brings them back, 
this time with a flick of her wrist so that they whip 
me lightly. I try to control myself: I don't want to 
come - yet. 

At last she reverses the rod and with a little bow 
passes the handle to me. She turns her back, and 
stands there in her heels, her hands locked behind her 
neck. She says nothing: there is no need to, I know 
what she wants. It is what I want too. 

I twist the control at the handle end of the rod and 
ensure that the electrical charge from the hidden 
battery is at its maximum. Then I raise the whip and 
bring its lashes down hard on her arse. At the high 
setting the battery makes the slim wires emit flashes 
as well as shocks as they make contact with her skin. 
She lets out a little gasp, no more. I whip her again 
and again, on her bottom, her upper thighs, her back. 
I make sure the lashes stay in contact with her skin 
after each stroke so that she may enjoy their electric 
tingling. She begins to whimper. After I have whipped 
her twenty, thirty times she turns slowly to face me. 
Does she want me to whip her breasts and stomach and 
pussy now? No; she pushes me into my chair. I lie 
back, guessing what she wants, my erection rising 
proudly from my open trousers. She pulls my trousers 
and underpants down; then straddles me and gradually, 
tantalisingly, impales herself on my cock. Her pussy 
is wet and slick with the love-juice called up by the 
electrified whipping, and my erection slides into her 
easily. I imagine the spotlights glistening on her 
erotic metal decorations. 

She takes full control of the fuck, varying her speed 
to satisfy her desire. Her cunt muscles ripple 
beautifully along the length of my shaft. At last when 
I feel I can stand it no longer, she releases me. I 
feel her slide to the floor, and now my erection is 
being serviced by her expert mouth. I come, with a 
great shout of release; she holds me for a while, then 
sucks up every drop of my cum. She sits back on her 
heels, relishing it, playing with it on her tongue, 
using her fingertips to retrieve any drops which have 
spurted onto her face, and at last swallows it slowly. 
She rises, makes a gesture round the imaginary 
audience to show that, if she could, she would service 
them next, and leaves the room. 

At last she returns, still dressed in her erotic 
jewellery, but now smiling with charming deference. 

"That was good, Ayumi," I say. "Very good." 

"Thank you, sir." 

"Do you feel you could manage an audience of, what - 
say ten or a dozen men?" 

"Of course, sir!" she says, her face lighting up. "I 
mean, it was lovely doing it with you - but I'd only 
just started!" 

I look at her and smile. 

"Right," I say. "Tomorrow I'll take you to meet the 
manager of a fetish club I know. Of course, he'll want 
to try you out himself, before he lets you get to work 
on his customers." 

Ayumi smiled happily. 

"You must remember that they are highly specialised. 
They have very particular tastes which you'll be 
expected to satisfy." 

"Even more particular than yours, sir?" she says 
coquettishly. 

"Oh, yes. I'm just an amateur. At this club you'll be 
meeting some highly skilled fetishists and sadists." 

"Oooh, nice!" She looks at me again. "What would you 
like me to wear now, sir?" 

"Why don't you stay just as you are? Those silver 
decorations really appeal to me." 

She wriggles coquettishly. 

"Do they? I'm so glad!" 

"Especially those little discs fixed to your breasts, 
held by the needles piercing your nipples ..." 

"Yes, they are rather pretty, aren't they?" 

"Of course, I know you have holes there already, for 
your nipple-rings and so on, but it really looks as if 
you've had the needles stuck straight through your 
breasts. It's very erotic and arousing." 

"Fetishistic?" she asks, stumbling over the word; 
"sadistic?" 

"Yes. Very." 

"Nice!" she says again. "Thank you, sir! I am _so_ 
happy that I please you." 

== 

It is the evening of Ayumi's first public performance. 
She has been excited all day, and a little nervous - 
though I know she will do me credit. I have arranged 
things with the manager of a striptease theatre who 
owes me some favours: I have written up his 
establishment in my articles for American magazines. 
We discussed whether Ayumi should come up out of the 
audience pretending to be a volunteer longing to go 
nude on "Amateur Night"; but in the end we thought she 
should be presented on stage as a newcomer keen to 
display her skills to the audience. And yes of course, 
I answered my friend's anxious questions, she will 
gladly fuck any man who wants her, on stage and off. 
He has promised to ask no questions about her age; and 
anyway he won't be paying for Ayumi's services. 

We have dressed her in a sparkling dress of midnight 
blue, with a halter neck and the short skirt tight 
round her arse. It's not the sort of dress that falls 
off easily: she will have to wriggle it down over her 
hips, which should be pretty and tantalising to watch. 
Underneath she is wearing a sexy bra and panties. We 
argued a bit about her legs. Of course a stripper does 
not wear tights - they are clumsy and tiresome to 
remove - but fishnet stockings held up by garters are 
a pleasing sight on an otherwise naked girl. 
Nevertheless Ayumi is so excited at the prospect of 
being fully nude on her first public appearance that 
in the end I give way and agree her legs shall be 
bare. For shoes she wears high-heeled platforms, fixed 
to her feet with silver straps and with the three-inch 
soles and eight-inch heels made of transparent 
plastic. Normally I think platforms look cheap and 
vulgar - the sort of thing South-East Asian street 
prostitutes wear - but they have advantages for a girl 
appearing nude in public, giving her extra height so 
that she can be seen more easily. And of course they 
help if she is to be fucked standing up - on a 
dance-floor, for example, or against a wall. 

So there is the public stage she is to occupy for the 
first time, before her first paying audience. It is a 
sort of catwalk or _hanamichi_, projecting from the 
rudimentary curtains quite a long way into the 
audience area. The spectators sit on either side: 
nearly all Japanese but a few Western men, attracted 
perhaps - who knows? - by my articles recommending 
this place. I have a seat in the front row along one 
side, thinking that Ayumi might want someone she knows 
and trusts within easy reach when we get to the 
interactive part of her performance. The Manager comes 
on stage to announce the first appearance of a 
brilliant new talent. No one pays any attention: the 
Japanese because they've heard it all before and don't 
believe it anyway, the foreigners because they can't 
understand. Then Ayumi enters through the curtains and 
stands shyly under the lights, her figure-hugging 
dress hinting at the pleasures to come. There are a 
few murmurs of approval from the Japanese, and some 
more enthusiastic cat-calls from the foreigners. I 
listen in to a brief conversation between the Japanese 
behind me, and learn that the Manager has cannily 
spread a rumour among his regular customers that this 
new "talent" is only sixteen. For a moment I am 
annoyed on Ayumi's behalf: she is a year older than 
that - or has always told me she is - and sixteen 
sounds like an inexperienced schoolgirl, while at 
seventeen a girl is in the first bloom of her sexual 
beauty. But then I decide it doesn't matter: the 
Manager is the best judge of his clients and their 
tastes! 

She walks up and down a couple of times, balancing 
sexily on her platforms and letting them all have a 
good look at her. Then she stops, lifts her arms and 
slowly pulls apart the bow behind her neck. The front 
of her tight blue dress begins to fall, but not far - 
yet. Another walk up and down the platform, her bottom 
wriggling prettily, and she stops near the curtains, 
where the lights are strongest, turns her back, and 
reaches behind herself with one hand so she can slide 
the zip fastener down her dress to her waist. She 
turns to face us again, holding the front of her dress 
against herself, then lets it fall. Of course she is 
wearing a bra, a silver one, under her dress; but it 
is an uplift bra designed to support and shape her 
breasts without covering them. Big silver rings 
glitter in her nipples, hanging from her newly pierced 
holes - they are removable ones, she has not yet had 
permanent decorations fitted to her breasts. The 
audience like what they see. She walks to the centre 
of the stage and begins to wriggle her hips in time to 
the music, her fingers slowly, very slowly, pushing 
down the tight dress. At last it falls to the ground, 
revealing pretty backless panties in silver to match 
her bra, the triangle of cloth in front just 
concealing her pussy while the sweet curve of her arse 
is fully uncovered. There is a round of subdued 
applause. Ayumi steps out of the circle of her fallen 
dress, bends down while keeping her legs straight, 
scoops it up and walks back to the curtains to pass it 
to an unseen stagehand. 

Now she is walking up and down the stage again, 
half-dancing in time to the music, her breasts in the 
pretty uplift bra bouncing charmingly. She makes no 
eye-contact with the audience, and has only a 
withdrawn smile on her face. Of course the next step 
is the removal of her bra: she knows it, we all know 
it. She stops suddenly, and her hands reach behind her 
back as if to unfasten it. But she thinks better of 
it; she walks to the edge of the stage on the side 
away from me, kneels down with her back to a man in 
the audience, looks at him sweetly over her shoulder, 
and murmurs "Undress me - please!". She lets out a 
little squeal of pleasure as he takes the opportunity 
to fondle her, and thanks him demurely. She stands 
again, holding the bra loosely against herself; then, 
turning from side to side so that we can all see, lets 
it fall down her arms and tosses it aside. It is soon 
removed by a souvenir-hunter. 

She walks up and down again, her arms waving above her 
head, only the little silver triangle decorating her 
crotch separating her from the perfect nudity that 
everyone in the little theatre - including above all 
herself - is longing for. I feel very proud of her. 
She has worked so hard for this, practicing in my 
living-room and listening attentively to my lectures 
on the gestures and movements which stimulate male 
desire. 

There is an electric atmosphere of lust. Everyone in 
the club is concentrating on just one thing: the 
imminent revelation of Ayumi's cunt. I can tell how it 
is stimulating her, and how her own lust at least 
equals ours. Somehow she finds the self-control to 
make us wait - to make herself wait. Her clever 
fingers stroke her clit and pussy through the scrap of 
cloth. She is squealing with desire, and moaning "Oh, 
I'm coming! I want to be nude! I want it _so_ much - 
may I? May I please?" And of course we all, even the 
most jaded and blase Japanese, call out "Yes! Yes! 
Take it off! Be nude!" 

She too is saying "Yes! Yes!" and starts to fiddle 
with the little strings on her hips. The right bow is 
slowly pulled apart. Then the left, while her right 
hand holds the silver scrap against her pussy. Then, 
with a gesture not of triumph, not of consent, but 
rather of orgasmic relief, she pulls it away. She 
stands with her feet apart, her head upturned, her 
eyes closed, breathing deeply while the audience 
relish her exquisite nakedness. Then she comes to 
herself, and parades sexily before them, flaunting her 
hairless nudity, the little panties dangling from her 
right hand. 

There is a slight sense of unease among the audience. 
Does this girl understand what is supposed to happen 
next? Or is this inexperienced beginner expecting to 
leave it at that? And if so, should they let her, or 
take the initiative and go up on stage to join her, 
rape her without being invited? 

They should know Ayumi better, I think. Well, they 
soon will. For her, this is only the beginning. Nudity 
is just the teasing prelude to fucking - as much, and 
as varied, fucking as she can get. She should get 
plenty tonight, I think! And she knows I am here for 
her if she prefers to begin with a familiar partner 
rather than a stranger. 

She takes her time. But at last she makes her choice: 
not me, but a man seated on the other side of the 
stage. She stands before him, fresh, eager, 
exquisitely desirable, her calves and thighs tense 
with desire and stretched by her teetering stance in 
her platform shoes. She dangles her silver panties 
over him, tickling his head and face with the little 
strings. He grabs them; but she holds tight to the 
other end. She pulls firmly; now he is rising from his 
seat while the rest of the audience cheer and applaud; 
now he is ascending the two steps to join her on the 
stage. They stand together for a while, he stroking 
her breasts and pussy while her ecstatic face shows 
how she is enjoying it. 

One man at a time was never enough for Ayumi. She 
pulls a little away from her lover and holds out her 
hand to a second, who quickly joins her on stage. She 
helps the two men out of their clothes, kneels between 
them and strokes their erect cocks. Soon she is 
stroking one and sucking the other; sucking one and 
stroking the other; trying to get both into her mouth 
at once. Then they are on the floor with her, one 
vigorously fingering her cunt while the other kisses 
her, fondling and pinching her breasts. But these are 
only delightful stages on the way to Ayumi receiving 
both cocks simultaneously in her love-holes. She is on 
hands and knees, preparing to be spit-roasted in the 
classic manner: one man penetrates her cunt while the 
other thrusts his cock deep into her mouth and down 
her throat. She cannot speak, but her vigorous 
to-and-fro movement tells everyone how much she is 
loving being used like that. 

The two men are of course stimulated by the excitement 
of taking this lovely, willing girl and doing so in 
front of an audience. They come quickly: first the man 
in her mouth, then the other. They do not pull out at 
once - she does not let them. But at last the cock 
pops out of her cunt, letting the creamy juices pour 
from her; then she releases the one in her mouth, the 
cum dribbling onto her hand before she licks it up 
again and swallows happily. A stage-hand runs on with 
a pile of damp cloths: she wipes herself then helps to 
clean her lovers. They scramble into their clothes and 
leave the stage to appreciative applause and laughter. 

Gradually Ayumi stands up. She turns, showing herself 
to the audience on all sides, walks towards the 
curtains, then returns. She has the happy, almost 
virginal look of a well-fucked girl who is - for the 
moment - well satisfied. At the tip of the _hanamichi_ 
she stands in her lovely nakedness, waving and smiling 
at the audience. Tentatively, she places one foot on 
the first of the shallow steps leading off the stage. 
The men nearest her cheer and urge her on. Now she has 
both feet on the step. She pretends to be shy. Then, 
slowly, exaggerating her precariousness and 
helplessness in the absurdly high platform shoes, she 
joins the admiring audience. 

They rise to receive her, arms outstretched, hands 
clutching at her and stroking her. From where I am 
sitting I can hear her whimpering and moaning with 
pleasure. Then her voice rises: "Oh, yes! Oh _yes_!" 
she cries, "All of you! Yes, everyone - _every_ cock - 
I must have them _all_! Oh, please!" 

She disappears from sight as she is seized by so many 
loving lustful hands and, squealing with pleasure, 
passed from man to man. 


FOOTNOTES

[8] Adult, that is pornographic, videos. 

[9] See note 21. 

[10] The yearning of Japanese men for the daughters 
they never saw grow up because of their long hours at 
work - the Lolita Complex or _rorikon_ - is matched by 
the longing of young girls for the father figures they 
hardly knew - the Father Complex or _fazakon_. When 
the two meet the result is deeply satisfying. _Gaijin_ 
men like me enjoy relationships with young girls in 
Japan which we could only dream of at home - which is 
why we do not leave. 

[11] See "The Rock-Hard Club", _Unfinished Affairs_ 
Chapter VIII.

[12] I use them a lot myself on my more advanced 
pupils and can strongly recommend them, despite the 
extra cost. The little metal jaws are designed to bite 
painfully without actually drawing blood. Once a girl 
has experienced them she will never be satisfied with 
the simpler kind of clamp. 

[13] As surely every man knows, when a girl's nipples 
erect it is an infallible sign that she is sexually 
aroused. It is not a thing she can fake or control. 
This is especially useful in sado-masoch­ism: when you 
are whipping a girl she may be in apparently genuine 
anguish and begging you to spare her - but if her 
nipples are erect you know she is just pretending and 
is in fact nicely stimulated and approaching orgasm. 

[14] If you have read _I Am Not Ashamed_, the story of 
Megumi Kato's friend Kimiko Kobayashi, you may 
recognise the Pink Salon Bara: it is the establishment 
Kimiko visited as part of her Second Test (see Chapter 
XIV). Of course Kimiko had then just discovered the 
joys of sex and was working hard to make up for all 
she had missed during the years she had wasted as a 
prim little prude - and the Salon with its 15-minute 
sessions was just what she wanted at that stage of her 
sexual development. 


[Next in Part 05: Saeko: Perfect Harmony] 

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