UNFINISHED AFFAIRS 15

THE MEGUMI STORIES
BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS

VOLUME 04: UNFINISHED AFFAIRS
BY BOB WILLIAMS
ASSISTED BY MEGUMI, CHIYOKO, HANAKO, SAMMY, HIROKO, 
NATSUKO, SACHI, MAKI, YUKI AND AYAKO

PART 15

CHAPTER XV

The Hundred-Fold Curtain

     Let us end where we began: with the remarkable 
     Megumi, and another chapter that didn't make it 
     into her memoirs. The determination with which 
     Megumi pursues the extremes of sexual pleasure is 
     rare even among Japanese girls. I am sure you 
     will be glad to hear that, despite all her 
     preoccupations as a wife, a businesswoman and an 
     enthusiastic sex performer on video, in clubs and 
     at private parties, she finds the time to model 
     for some of the greatest bondage masters. 

The change of leadership at Marucho had to be 
announced and celebrated. Japanese companies like to 
do that by holding lavish parties at which the new 
President is introduced to the business community and 
the company's latest products are displayed. Now that 
Japan is suffering from a recession it is considered 
bad form to be too extravagant, but Mr Otani was 
determined that we should make the best show we could. 
And of course we already had the venue, the equipment 
and the girls contracted to work for us, so the extra 
cost would be minimal. 

Indeed Mr Otani hoped to make a special impression on 
our contacts and competitors, and show that we had 
full confidence in the future of our industry even in 
a time of hardship. He felt it was our duty to our 
fellow-citizens, and that we should present the sex 
industry in a positive way with all of us working 
harder and more sincerely than ever to improve the 
morale of a worried workforce. Naturally we girls in 
particular all agreed he was right, and promised to 
dedicate ourselves day and night to fucking before the 
cameras, in strip-clubs - wherever we could help 
improve the economic climate. Of course we enjoyed 
every moment of the extra work, but it was nice to 
feel that what we were doing was useful as well as 
fun. 

Mr Otani told me and Sammy he wanted to see us both 
urgently in his office to discuss the company party. 
We were in the middle of filming a sweet little 
fantasy in which we both played angels visiting the 
earth and finding we could not achieve take-off on our 
homeward journey without the energy imparted by 
vigorous multiple fucking. The Director gave us 
permission to leave the set to obey our boss's 
summons. There wasn't time to get out of costume and 
into ordinary clothes, so we stood in front of Mr 
Otani's desk wearing nothing but wings fixed to our 
backs and very sexy high-heeled boots with lots of 
straps round our legs. 

"You know I want you both to make a big effort at the 
company party tomorrow," he said. It wasn't a 
question: we already knew. "I am thinking of a very 
special display, involving the two of you together." 

"Of course, sir," I said correctly. 

"Lovely!" said Sammy in her relaxed Western way. 
"Whatever you say, Daddy. I hope you're thinking of 
something very sexy! And doing it with Megumi will be 
so nice." 

She looked at me lovingly and slipped her arm round my 
waist. As I have said, Sammy was very tactile in her 
behaviour. I liked it when she touched me, though I 
still had Japanese inhibitions about such things. In 
ordinary, social, off-stage contact, I mean of course. 
Mr Otani continued. 

"We are planning for our guests a sort of fantasy 
scene on the theme of bondage and discipline," he 
said. 

"When you say discipline," said Sammy, "you mean being 
whipped, caned ...?" 

"Well, pain, anyway," her father replied. "A still 
life, with both of you helplessly subjected to torture 
by an expert." 

"Ooh, how gorgeous!" said Sammy. "Megumi's taught me 
_so_ much about that. When I lived in America I 
couldn't imagine how a girl could enjoy it ... but now 
I just want to catch up on all the lovely things I've 
been missing!" 

I said nothing. I was shivering all over, knowing that 
whatever Mr Otani was planning would provide both a 
masterpiece of beauty for the spectators and hours of 
exquisite torture for Sammy and me, both of us 
trembling helplessly on the edge of orgasm. 

"I'm glad about that," Mr Otani was saying. "It's part 
of your Japanese heritage. You know, I think - well, 
Megumi knows, but perhaps you don't, Sammy - that 
bondage is not just a form of sexual stimulation - 
exciting for both the one who does the binding and the 
one who is bound. And the audience watching, of 
course. It is also an art form of great antiquity." 

"Wasn't it originally a method of police 
interrogation?" I asked. 

"Girls tied up nude to be tortured?" added Sammy, 
already excited at the idea. "Ooh, I'd _love_ that!" 

"Yes. The techniques were developed centuries ago. But 
of course, since Meiji things are different. Instead, 
the techniques of binding a girl have become an art 
with strict rules. In a way it's a bit like the 
samurai techniques of swordplay." Mr Otani smiled, and 
shifted quickly from being very Japanese to being very 
American. "They're no longer allowed to go about 
slicing people in half with their swords, so the 
movements and thrusts have been converted into 
_kendo_. The Way of the Sword. An art form, as I said. 
And also a sport." 

We nodded, and waited for him to come to the point. 

"So now we have the Way of the Rope - even though we 
don't call it that. So that the old traditions and 
skills don't die out." 

"And the Way of the Whip," I added. It was impertinent 
of me to interrupt my boss, but I couldn't help 
remembering his expert use of my favourite 
instruments. I felt Sammy's arm tighten round my 
waist. 

"Yes. The only difference being that the victims are 
willing volunteers nowadays, not prisoners." 

"But of course we act like prisoners, don't we?" put 
in Sammy. "It's more fun like that." 

"In our videos, yes. But you've never been to a 
demonstration of traditional rope bondage, have you? 
The victim is completely impassive and submissive, 
letting the Master use her as he wishes to create an 
object of beauty." 

"Isn't struggling and pretending not to enjoy it more 
fun?" asked Sammy. 

"I don't think so. One great Bondage Master explained 
to me that when he binds a girl she enters another 
world of extreme pleasure. The first time I saw him 
work I thought the girl had fainted. When he freed her 
at the end she was completely motionless. It worried 
me: I thought she was in a coma. But he said she was 
in a state of continuous mental orgasm." 

"It sounds _lovely_!" said Sammy enthusiastically. 

"Yes, I think it must be. The orgasm isn't caused by 
stimulating her body: the bondage has made the 
pleasure centres of her brain go into overdrive, and 
if she is not disturbed she can stay like that for 
hours." 

We stared at him in wonder. 

"As you will shortly find out," he added briskly. 
"Both of you. I've arranged for a great bondage 
_sensei_ to create something special out of you at our 
reception. Be there at least an hour ahead of time." 

"Yes, sir." 

"And now, back to work both of you." 

The filming of our "angels" fantasy was completed by 
the evening, leaving Sammy and me just enough time to 
get to our evening engagement. We were due to perform 
that evening at a big music-hall establishment in 
downtown Tokyo much frequented by factory workers. 
When our turn on stage came we entered happily 
together and helped each other strip. The audience 
were delighted at the opportunity to watch a _gaijin_ 
girl strip - not knowing that Sammy wasn't really a 
full _gaijin_ - and applauded enthusiastically. When 
we were fully nude at last we performed a nice lesbian 
scene before shyly stepping down into the audience, 
still nude of course, and thanking them for all their 
efforts to keep the economy going. It was two o'clock 
before we returned to our apartment, happily exhausted 
and glowing with virtue. 

The following evening we were ready at Marucho's 
bigger studio, where the party was to be held, long 
before Mr Otani's stipulated time. After the usual 
consultation with Matsumoto-san, we wore high heels 
and long gloves - I in silver, Sammy in gold - and 
were otherwise nude. As no one needed us yet, we 
wandered arm-in-arm round the studio, watching the 
bars and buffet tables being set up, and the tempting 
whipping-frames, fucking couches and other equipment 
being put in place. The workmen and scene-shifters 
occasionally gave us encouraging pats on our bottoms, 
but were mostly too busy to pay attention to us. At 
last we sat down out of everyone's way on one of the 
couches. Sammy put her arms round me and we were soon 
kissing and fondling each other. 

"Oh, I _do_ like ... putting on ... a show with you 
... Megumi!" said Sammy, sucking my cunt-juice off her 
fingers with obvious pleasure. "Wasn't it _fun_ 
together at that place last night! Do let's go there 
again." 

I was just about to thank her for tickling my pussy by 
sliding down her body and licking hers, when I noticed 
Mr Otani coming in through the big doors with some 
visitors. I scrambled up off the couch, fluffed up the 
damp curls of my pussy hair, and ran to meet them, 
Sammy following. 

"This," said Mr Otani, indicating the tall lady with 
him, "is Aoi-sensei. And these," he added, changing to 
a suitably dismissive tone, "are Megumi and Sammy, 
your material for this evening." 

We bowed low before the _sensei_. Mr Otani had not 
told us the famous bondage master would be a woman. 
Not that there was any reason why she shouldn't be: 
Japan is quite a modern country, after all. Aoi-sensei 
was tall and handsome, aged about thirty-five perhaps. 
She turned towards Sammy first, giving me the 
opportunity to look at her without being rude. She was 
wearing a shiny black strapless bustier, matching 
black sleeves like long gloves but ending in loops 
round her middle fingers which left her hands free, 
and a long black skirt with a slit up the side 
revealing thigh-high boots. She wore her hair loose 
down her back. 

"A _gaijin_ girl!" she was saying as she looked Sammy 
over. 

"Partly _gaijin_," said Mr Otani. "Well, 
three-quarters _gaijin_. My daughter, in fact." 

"Well, well! How interesting!" said Aoi-sensei. "Are 
the two girls experienced?" 

"They've done quite a lot of bondage and discipline," 
Mr Otani replied. "On screen and off. But they will be 
new to the sort of sculpture bondage in which you 
specialise, _sensei_." 

She turned and looked steadily at me. I bowed again. 

"H'm," she said. "I've seen your videos, Megumi-chan. 
Very pretty." 

She reached out with one hand and fondled my breasts, 
then tweaked my nipples hard. I let out a gasp. It 
wasn't just the pleasure-pain of her touch. As her 
deep brown eyes held me, I felt myself tingling all 
over, trembling, my insides melting. I hadn't felt 
like that since my first meeting with Mr Otani on my 
eighteenth birthday. There was no denying it: I was in 
love. 

She was smiling at me. She knew, of course. Girls must 
be falling in love with her all the time. 

"I think you enjoy bondage, Megumi?" she said. "And 
pain - whipping, and so on?" 

"Oh, yes, _sensei_!" 

"Well, that's a good start. There'll be pain in what I 
do to you tonight, of course, a lot of pain which you 
will enjoy I think, but no whipping. I'm planning to 
turn you into a work of art. You will look very 
beautiful. It is a work I designed myself: I call it 
the Hundred-Fold Curtain." 

"Thank you, _sensei_." 

She leant forward and whispered to me. I could feel 
her breath tickling my cheek. 

"Are you sorry there won't be any whipping in my 
sculpture?" 

"No ... yes ... no ..." I replied, confused. "I mean, 
I shall be happy to do whatever you want ..." 

"I am sure you will be very good material," she 
murmured after a pause. "Your body is firm and 
shapely, and I think it is easily aroused. I shall 
enjoy binding it. If you are a success, perhaps you 
would like to come to my house some time? Just 
privately? I will teach you things about pain and 
submission even your Mr Otani hasn't taught you. Would 
you like that?" 

"Oh, yes, _sensei_! Thank you." 

It didn't surprise me that she knew about my 
relationship with Mr Otani. Nor did it seem odd that, 
on the brink of marrying him, I had fallen helplessly 
in love with this wonderful woman. My husband-to-be 
had made it plain that he expected me to continue my 
career acting in fuck videos, had promised that he 
would take me to sex-parties, and told me the company 
would want me to continue my guest appearances as a 
nude waitress and bargirl at high-class clubs. And of 
course there was all the extra work I was doing to 
help combat the recession. I expected he would go on 
having other girls. He would probably let me watch, 
and join in, when he did. I was ready for all that - 
was looking forward to it. It would surely leave me 
plenty of time and sexual desire to worship Aoi-sensei 
and be her adoring slave. As Mr Otani's wife, my 
function would be to be available whenever he wanted 
me and to fuck him as skilfully as I could. The more 
varied the sexual experience I could bring to his bed, 
the more satisfying my husband would find me - or so I 
reasoned. 

"Well, now," said Aoi-sensei briskly, "we must get to 
work. The costumes you are both wearing will be fine. 
They are strictly speaking a little tarty for 
classical bondage but we want the company's guests to 
feel sexual as well as aesthetic appreciation, don't 
we?" She smiled conspiratorially. "I will bind you, 
and my pupil will look after Sammy-chan." I noticed 
that she used the word _deshi_ which I see from the 
dictionary is "disciple" in English: traditional 
Japanese artists often call their pupils that. She 
turned towards the doors and called "Hiroko-san!" 

A girl, also tightly dressed in black, came in 
wheeling a sort of clothes rack from which many 
lengths of rope were suspended. After a moment I 
recognised her: she was the girl who had helped Ken 
and me film my sample video which had helped me get 
the job at Marucho. 

"You know Hiroko?" asked Aoi-sensei when she saw me 
greet her. 

"Yes - she was at college with a lover of mine ... she 
... that is ... she gave me my first lesbian 
experience." 

I was anxious to show Aoi-sensei that she would not 
find me a complete beginner if she decided to take me 
into her own bed. She smiled at me, a little grimly I 
thought. I had the feeling that _sensei_'s sexual 
partners were required to submit willingly to 
treatment I had not previously experienced from a 
woman. I felt a little shiver of excitement. After 
all, was I not already her willing slave? 

"Well, if you are ready, let us begin," she said. 

"Oh, yes! Yes _please_!" 

She began by removing her long skirt and stood before 
me magnificent in her shiny black bustier, its lower 
end strapped between her legs, fishnet tights and over 
them high-heeled boots extending half-way up her 
thighs. She smiled at me, enjoying my admiration. 

"It's easier to work like this," she said; then "Can 
we have the bars lowered please?" she called to an 
unseen technician. 

Two heavy steel bars, chrome-plated and glittering in 
the studio lights, slowly descended from the ceiling. 
On Aoi-sensei's instruction I lay on my front on a 
sort of trolley while she bound first my arms behind 
my back, then my legs tightly together, and finally 
loops of rope supporting my chest and stomach - always 
taking the ropes round the bar so that I was 
helplessly fixed to it from the neck down. I was 
vaguely aware of Hiroko doing the same thing to Sammy 
with the other bar. When _sensei_ was satisfied she 
inserted a pair of nose-bondage hooks into my 
nostrils, tying the other end tightly to my ropes so 
that I was forced to hold my head up. Her hands 
caressed and explored my body, sending thrilling waves 
of sensation through me. Suddenly I felt her fingers 
enter first my arsehole and then my cunt, inserting 
vibrators deep into each. At least I assumed they must 
be vibrators, though they were still and silent for 
the moment. 

"Very nice!" said Aoi-sensei, admiring her handwork. 
"But of course that's just the beginning. Up!" she 
called to the technician; and I felt myself lifted 
till my face was level with hers. The trolley on which 
I had been lying was wheeled away. 

"Now, Megumi," she said, "I want you to see what I am 
going to make of you. Look at this." 

She held a clamp before my eyes. It was shaped like 
the sort of clothes-peg often used to stimulate a 
girl's nipples or cunt-lips in bondage sessions, but 
with an extra strong spring and serrated metal jaws: a 
type made specially for sex-shops catering for sadists 
and masochists. 

"You've experienced these before, have you?" 

"Oh, yes!" I said. "They're _lovely_!" 

"Well, these are specially strong, and there'll be a 
lot of them. Now look at this." 

Tied to the handle of the clip was a thin strand of 
iridescent plastic thread, over two metres long and 
ending in a little metal weight. 

"Do you remember what I called the work of art I plan 
to make of you?" 

"Yes, _sensei_. You called it the Hundred-Fold 
Curtain." 

"Exactly. So there will be a hundred of these clips, 
and the strings suspended from your body will form the 
curtain. On one side, that is. And the same thing 
attached to your friend. Now, shall we begin?" 

Without waiting for an answer, _sensei_ began to fix 
the clips: to my nose, my lips, my chin, my breasts - 
lots to my breasts, ooh, lovely! - in a close-packed 
line along my stomach, to my cunt-lips and clitoris - 
oh, heavenly feeling! - along my legs, and finally one 
to each toe. The reinforced jaws bit lusciously into 
me: they were a long way short of giving me an orgasm 
but stimulated my sensuality with endlessly exciting 
possibilities ... 

"Oh, thank you _sensei_!" I said carefully, trying not 
to dislodge any of the clips, when she returned to my 
head. 

She just smiled, and instructed the technician to 
raise the bar further. I was flying near the ceiling 
now, each clip supporting the full weight of the 
thread and the weight which just skimmed the floor. 
But _sensei_ had fixed them well and they all clung on 
firmly. It was a little while before Sammy was raised 
on her bar to join me: she told me afterwards that 
Hiroko had been less skilful in applying her set of a 
hundred clips and a few fell off and had to be 
replaced. Our faces were close to each other, but we 
did not speak: each was revelling in the delightful 
sensation and knew well what the other was feeling. 

I had already guessed that the vibrators inserted into 
our cunts and arses were remote-controlled. The two 
shimmering curtains suspended from our bodies formed 
the entrance to the main reception area, and as each 
guest approached he was invited to press a button on 
the remote which sent waves of stimulation, supported 
by electric shocks, through us both. That of course 
made us wriggle, to the limited extent possible in our 
tight bonds, adding - as I know from the videos that 
were taken - a beautiful rippling effect to the 
curtains. Having enjoyed the lovely work of living art 
which Aoi-sensei had created, each guest then pushed 
his way through the curtains to join the party. 

After about an hour of this delicious experience I 
began to feel something strange happening to me. It 
was not the feeling of floating freely away from my 
body which an expert sadist can grant me with his 
whips: it was rather a sensation of intense and 
endless orgasm which took possession of me and seemed 
unrelated to the relatively mild stimulation I was 
receiving from the vibrators and clamps. 

When at last the guests had all gone and Sammy and I 
were lowered to the floor, I was hardly aware of 
Aoi-sensei freeing me from my bonds. The orgasmic 
feeling continued unabated and I wanted - oh, so much! 
- to hold it in my mind for ever. She lifted me in her 
strong arms and supported me to a couch. At last the 
sensation began to ebb, and I found myself held in her 
arms. 

"You don't have to tell me, dear," she said kindly. 
"We call it a mental orgasm. Your first, wasn't it? 
You're very lucky. Only a very few girls can achieve 
it." 

I vaguely remembered Mr Otani telling me - when was 
it? Only yesterday? - that such a state could be 
induced by the bondage experience. Something about 
complete subjection of the body stimulating the 
pleasure centres of the brain. 

"You will come and see me in my studio, won't you?" 
Aoi _sensei_ continued. "Now that I know you have the 
gift ... I will teach you how to enter that state and 
stay there as long as you wish. Some of my pupils can 
remain in orgasm for hours. Of course you have to be 
tightly bound first, nude except for the ropes and 
unable to move. I will bind you before the most expert 
audiences in Japan, and make you into a beautiful work 
of art, while you enjoy endless mental orgasm. Will 
you come?" 

"Oh, yes _sensei_! _Yes_!" 


[Next in Part 16: Afterword] 

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

