ALL I EVER WANTED 04

THE MEGUMI STORIES
BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS

VOLUME 02: ALL I EVER WANTED
BY MEGUMI KATO AND SAMANTHA WEST

CHAPTER IV

The Girl from Saks

It was so long since I had had any time to myself that 
I hardly knew what to do with it. Since we would be 
flying back to Tokyo the day after tomorrow perhaps it 
was the moment to take some final decisions about 
shopping. I had looked at plenty of clothes and the 
prices were cheap by Japanese standards; but I was 
worried about the quality. You paid a lot more in 
Tokyo shops but the clothes were far superior: you 
didn't find the unfinished seams, sagging linings and 
even missing buttons that Americans seemed to think 
were normal. Of course I could fix these faults easily 
enough with my own needle, but it was difficult to get 
used to this radically different attitude to quality. 

It was while I was hunting through sale items in the 
local branch of Saks Fifth Avenue that I realised I 
had seen the girl in other shops too. She was about my 
age and build, so it was hardly surprising that we 
found ourselves looking through the same racks. It was 
warm in the store and she had taken off her jacket, 
hanging it over her shoulder with a finger through the 
loop: she stood with her shoulders back, her pert 
young breasts pushing hard against the thin cotton of 
her T-shirt. As I watched her flicking through the 
racks with her free hand, I thought her features were 
unusually delicate - had it not been for the short 
golden hair and grey-green eyes, they could almost 
have been Oriental. 

But the most striking thing about her was her long, 
slim and beautifully shaped legs - a dancer's legs. 
They were shown off by the denim shorts she was 
wearing, cut high to reveal the lower curves of her 
firm bottom. I think it's a shame when girls don't 
take advantage of high-heels to display their legs at 
their best, especially American girls whose thighs and 
calves tend to be either too fat or too muscular. But 
she needed no such enhancement: in fact she was 
wearing the flattest shoes possible, just soles bound 
to her pretty feet with plaited straw thongs, 
decorated only with artificial flowers over her 
insteps matching the tint of her carefully painted 
toenails. The effect was charming and I wondered if I 
dared try it myself. But my Japanese legs probably 
needed all the help they could get, I thought in a 
rare moment of self-pity. 

I suddenly realised she had noticed me studying her. I 
looked quickly away in embarrassment, but not before I 
had caught a note of recognition in her eyes. Surely 
not. A nice young American girl would hardly know 
anything about Japanese pornography, and last night's 
publicity photos had not yet reached the papers. I 
pulled myself together and looked at her again. 

"I'm so sorry," I said, "you must think me very rude. 
I couldn't help admiring your shoes. Did you get them 
here?" 

"These?" she said, raising one foot casually but 
obviously enjoying the elegance of her gesture. "No, 
not here - some beach resort, I think." 

We exchanged a few remarks about the clothes on 
display, and separated. 

That afternoon I kept my appointment with Torao-san, 
the head cameraman. He was disappointed at first when 
I undressed and let him examine my arse: it was still 
pink from Mr Otani's treatment and there were some 
pretty marks from his whips, but he had been unusually 
careful. Having been put wise by Matsumoto-san, I 
explained that he probably wanted to ensure that I 
would look suitably fresh and virginal for the next 
day's filming. Torao-san decided there was still 
enough worth preserving, and spent an hour or so 
photographing and filming my arse from all possible 
angles as I stood, walked and wiggled under his 
instructions. 

We all loved Torao-san, who took so much trouble to 
ensure that we always looked our sexy best in 
Marucho's videos. When he was finished I gave him a 
little kiss. 

"You've always been so good to me, Torao-san. I've 
nothing else to do today. Wouldn't you like me to give 
you a really nice fuck?" 

"I'd love you to, Megumi, but I've so much to do 
before we finish tomorrow." I must have looked 
disappointed. "But, hey, how about at the wrap party 
tomorrow night? When I've nothing more to worry about? 
Can it wait till then?" 

"Of course!" I said. "I'd love that. It's a date. Mind 
you don't forget - I'll hold you to it. And you make 
sure you have me first, before the other girls get at 
you." 

I kissed him again, then gave him a special extra 
wriggle and a provocative look over my shoulder, just 
to make sure he didn't forget, as I walked back to 
where I'd left my clothes. 

Still at rather a loose end, I went out again to do my 
final shopping, then returned to the hotel to make a 
start on my packing. The Front Desk handed me a 
package which had just been delivered for me. I 
guessed who had sent it, and rushed to my room to open 
it. 

Inside was a box and a note. The note said simply, 

My Darling Roriita, 

I hope you will enjoy this improved version. 
Much love 

It was signed only with the Japanese character, 
looking a bit like a pair of crossed swords, which 
means "Father". 

Well, at least he had got someone to tell him who 
Lolita was, even if he still didn't know how to write 
it. 

I eagerly opened the box. Inside was a pair of 
nipple-clamps, looking much like the darling pair he 
had given me long ago but with some sort of electrical 
connection just below the knob which twisted each one 
tight. There were also a large dildo shaped like a 
realistic penis, made of firm flesh-coloured plastic 
apart from a broad metal band round the root snug 
against the plastic balls, and three lengths of 
electrical cable, one ending in the sort of large 
mains plug which also serves as a transformer for 
charging battery-driven equipment. The instruction 
leaflet read as if it had been translated from 
Japanese into English by someone with an imperfect 
knowledge of either language, but I guessed it 
wouldn't be too difficult to figure out what the 
equipment was for. 

Tempting though it was to try the new toys out at 
once, I decided to make myself wait. I was tired and 
hungry. I had a heavy day tomorrow and must get ready 
for it. 

With some relief I took off the long skirt I had been 
wearing most of the day and changed into something 
lighter. I did not bother with bra or panties, but put 
on a short blouse of the sort which is designed to tie 
below the breasts, leaving the waist and tummy bare. I 
added a pair of shorts cut high on the hip and tight 
enough to rub agreeably against my bare crotch. And, 
remembering the blonde beauty I had met that morning, 
I put on a pair of flat slippers. In the mirror I 
thought they made me look plumper than I usually 
liked: but I wasn't going anywhere special. I pinned 
my hair loosely so that it hung down my back, then 
went down to the hotel's coffee-shop. 

A group of three young Japanese technical staff, 
temporarily off duty, were at a table together. A 
fourth chair was unoccupied, and I joined them. They 
looked at me with frank admiration, and I responded 
with a demure blush. Perhaps I should pay more 
attention to the Japanese little-girl look, I thought, 
especially now I was - apparently - some­one's Lolita. 
While I was ordering my meal they resumed their 
excited chatter about the final day's shooting, and 
especially about the wrap party to which they were 
greatly looking forward. Suddenly conscious again of 
my presence, and of the implication of what they were 
saying, they fell silent. With what I hoped was a 
suitable mixture of modesty and excitement, I said 
that I too was looking forward to the party. It was 
nice, I said, once a job was over, to be able to meet 
all the staff without stress or restraint. They looked 
a bit shattered, uncertain how to take this. I added 
that the Director was such a disciplinarian, didn't 
they think, that it was difficult to behave naturally 
when he was in charge. But once the movie was finished 
... That was something they could all agree to, and 
their cheerful conversation resumed. 

I finished my simple meal, rose and bowed respectfully 
as is suitable from a female, however senior, to male 
colleagues, however humble. "Again, tomorrow," I 
murmured in a Japanese phrase which they could take, 
as they wished, as looking forward either to work in 
the studio or to fun and games at the party, and left 
the coffee-shop, enjoying on my way out the frank lust 
rising like a cloud of tobacco smoke from a table of 
four American businessmen whom I had been distracting 
from their discussion of the latest sales figures from 
Atlanta. 

The hotel staff had been into my room to turn down the 
bed. The new sex toys which I had carelessly left 
lying on the coverlet had been neatly arranged on the 
bedside table, the hotel's standard good-night 
chocolate and a folded card wishing me Sweet Dreams 
carefully placed in the precise centre. Oh dear. 

I plugged the dildo into the wall socket by the bed so 
that it could charge itself, and took a luxurious bath 
while I waited. Then I gently massaged lotion into my 
arse and thighs in the hope that tomorrow they would 
look fresh and untouched, ready for the shooting. 

I lay naked on my tummy on the bed and examined my 
presents more carefully. With my fingertips I lightly 
teased my nipples into full erection, and then turned 
onto my back and fitted the new clamps to them. As I 
screwed them comfortably tight, the familiar warm 
thrill flooded through me, and I could feel my pussy 
getting damp as the cunt-juice began to flow. I walked 
past the four Americans at their table again, but this 
time gave them a discreet smile of encouragement. They 
invited me to join them. Soon they would be taking 
turns to have me ... 

I abandoned this rather ordinary fantasy - after all, 
being shared by several men, much as I loved it, was 
part of my daily work - and disconnected the dildo 
from its charger. I examined the model cock. The broad 
metal band snug against the root, with its hint of 
slavery, looked very smart: I must try to persuade one 
of my human lovers to wear one for me. What fun it 
would be to arrive at a party leading a handsome naked 
slave by a chain attached to a metal band tight round 
his erection! Gold, perhaps - no, silver would be 
rather elegant. Of course he could easily escape by 
losing his erection and letting the band slip off; but 
actually he wouldn't want to, and couldn't anyway 
because he desired me so much. I would keep him hot 
and erect by making him watch while every other man at 
the party had me first ... I was carrying such a sweet 
little whip - I would enjoy making him beg and whimper 
while I punished him, but then I would let him seize 
the whip from me and take the most exquisite revenge. 
I was naked too of course apart from my highest heels, 
broad metal bands on my upper arms matching the band 
tight round my slave's erect cock and ... and, 
perhaps, oh yes, delicious little clamps torturing my 
nipples ... How nice it was to build up an elaborate 
masturbation fantasy, and then make it come true at 
the very next party I went to! Gradually I fed the 
long dildo into my increasingly wet cunt. Despite its 
great size it went in smoothly. I felt for the switch 
near the charger socket and at once the dildo began to 
vibrate and wriggle inside me, sending out great waves 
of pleasure to mingle with the pain radiating from my 
breasts. 

Of course, there is nothing to equal the pleasure of a 
real man's cock in your cunt or up your arse, or a 
real man's hands stroking and squeezing your tender 
body, but every girl should learn how to masturbate 
properly. Then she will never be bored. As of course I 
have told you, I was just learning how to play with 
myself when I had my first sexual experience with my 
teacher at the age of twelve, and it was because I was 
expecting pleasure that I found it. Your own fingers 
are best and most responsive to your needs, but it is 
worth learning how to use sex toys too, especially in 
public. Often I have sat through a long, tedious 
journey, looking innocent and virginal but actually 
dreaming of the wildest imaginable sex while a 
discreet little vibrator churned away inside me. It's 
one of the many advantages we girls have over men: we 
can keep it going for as long as we want. 

I knew there were more things to learn about this new 
set of toys. Reluctantly I put my fantasy on hold. My 
slave was on the floor now, kissing my little painted 
toes through the slim bonds of my high-heeled sandals, 
and begging me to let him come all over them, but he 
would still be there when I wanted him again. I 
switched the dildo off and pulled it out of my cunt, 
and to please my slave - and myself - went to the 
closet and found a pair of high-heeled gold party 
shoes for him to drool over.[4] I tightened the straps 
so that the shoes constricted my feet nicely, and 
picked up the inscrutable instructions again. 

They were not much use, but the two lengths of wire 
were obviously meant to go from the sockets in the 
breast-clamps to other sockets set in the dildo's 
plastic balls. There was also a three-way switch, now 
set at "O" for "off" but with other positions marked 
"R" and "C". I lay on my back again with my knees up, 
put the dildo back where it belonged, switched it on 
and experimentally moved the control to "R". For a 
while nothing special happened; then suddenly a spasm 
of pleasure flooded through me as a mild electric 
shock tickled my nipples and cunt-lips. Then suddenly 
another. And after an apparently random pause another 
stronger one. I wriggled the dildo more precisely into 
place so that the wide metal band was in closer 
contact with the lips of my cunt and, from inside my 
pussy, with the root of my clitoris. The sensation was 
delightful and I felt an orgasm building. Even in the 
high heels my toes were pointing and my calf muscles 
were contracting spontaneously, lifting my heels off 
the bed cover. I tightened the nipple-clamps, so as to 
balance pain and pleasure the way I liked them, and 
shifted the switch to "C". As I hoped, that was for 
"constant", and there was now no way of escaping the 
delicious electrical tingling. My first climax was 
quite close. 

But the batteries had only partly charged while I was 
in the bath, and under this constant drain soon began 
to run down. Damn. I switched everything off and 
reached again for the instructions. At the bottom of 
the second page there was a special warning: 

DANCER!! 
IF USE WHILE CHALGE! 

Nonsense, I thought, this is an emergency. I 
reconnected the charger to the wall socket, turned on 
the dildo and moved the switch to "Random". Fierce 
sensation at once exploded inside me: I was now 
receiving, I supposed, the voltage of the transformer 
rather than the trickle put out by the batteries. I 
felt my frustrated first climax build again: I was 
just able to flick the switch to "Constant" before it 
overwhelmed me. I lay moaning and wriggling on the 
bed, my hands stroking my stomach, thighs and arse as 
my body was mercilessly shaken by orgasm after 
glorious orgasm. I had never experienced anything 
quite like it, even with the best of human lovers: I 
was insatiable, each climax only increasing my lust 
for the next. After a while I forced myself to shift 
the control to "Random", slowing the pace of the 
orgasms so that I could enjoy them one by one. 

For over an hour I kept myself at full stretch, 
sobbing with lust as my sweating naked body writhed 
all over the bed and my back and feet arched 
repeatedly, each jolt of electricity matching my own 
immediate sexual response. I held the dildo by the 
plastic balls and wriggled it deeper into my 
helplessly dripping cunt. At last my lust began to 
give way to exhaustion. I disconnected the charger as 
I kicked off my shoes and turned out the bedside 
light, letting the gentler tickle of the batteries see 
me into contented sleep. Some time during the night 
the batteries must have run down again, but by then I 
was already deep into the Sweet Dreams promised by the 
hotel. 


FOOTNOTE

[4] Quite a lot of men are fascinated by girls' feet. 
I've had lovers who like to begin by sucking and 
kissing my toes through the straps of my shoes. 
Strange, but nice! It's a reminder that a girl should 
always keep every part of herself clean and pretty: 
you never know what a man will like best. I admit I am 
proud of having small feet and feel at my best when I 
am wearing sexy high-heels. I like them to be a snug 
fit, moulded to my little feet and showing off my 
prettily painted toes. 


[Next in Part 05: Chapter V: A Nice Old-Fashioned 
Orgy]


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

