Learning_About_Myself.20

THE MEGUMI STORIES
BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS

VOLUME 06: LEARNING ABOUT MYSELF
BY SAYAKA ONODERA AND BOB WILLIAMS

PART 20

CHAPTER XX

My Birthday Treat

The success of our performance at Roido-san's party 
was noted, and talked about among those with an 
interest in groups like ours and the resources to 
indulge it. But all too soon the autumn term began, 
and it was no longer possible for the Chain Gang to be 
out late at night enjoying itself and giving 
sophisticated pleasure to others. All of us found our 
sexual activities sadly curtailed, although I at least 
was able to service clients of the dating agency in 
the brief hour or so between school and returning 
home. I had forgotten quite how frustrating school 
was. During the summer I had made final decisions 
about my future, and I wanted to put them into action 
without delay.

My sixteenth birthday was due in November. My mother, 
feeling slightly more comfortable about money since 
Grandfather Isobe's affairs had been settled, had 
promised to give me and some friends a party at a 
restaurant near our school. Of course I invited the 
rest of the Chain Gang. It seemed strange for us all 
to be sitting there in our school uniforms, eating 
simple Japanese food and drinking soft drinks, and 
giggling and chatting like ... well, schoolgirls. I 
wasn't the only one, I thought, who had learned to 
manage a double life.

But the real celebration was being planned for me by 
Reina. It was to take place, she explained, at a very 
high-class nightclub in Akasaka called the Pink 
Pussycat [29]. The mama-san was an associate of 
Reina's, and while we were not to take over the place 
completely the agreement was that the Chain Gang would 
put on a special show and the mama-san would make sure 
that some of her regular clients, men with a special 
interest in new young talent, were in the audience. Of 
course I was keen to know what kind of show we were to 
put on for them.

"You leave that to me," said Reina. "Your job is to 
get the girls together. You can promise them a 
wonderful experience and an evening which could well 
lead to great things."

It had not been easy to find a date which suited 
everyone. Kin and Gin complained that the bath-house 
owner would be annoyed with them: now that they were 
back at school, they had limited time for him and he 
wanted to use all of it. Jun and Aki both had a bit of 
parent trouble. But somehow I had managed it.

We had been instructed to arrive at the Pink Pussycat 
by seven, so as to have plenty of time to prepare for 
our show before the guests came. I wore ordinary 
clothes for the journey from my home: if I thought 
about it at all, I suppose I preferred not to attract 
too much notice. I wanted to be free to concentrate on 
preparing myself for the experience which lay ahead, 
and which I knew would require my full commitment and 
dedication. But I soon realised I should have thought 
more carefully if I wanted to avoid attention! In my 
little room at home it seemed natural, on a warm and 
humid summer afternoon, to wear denim shorts, wedge 
shoes and a thin white sleeveless top cropped well 
above my navel, but I soon found that it was a 
mistake. The subway was quite full, though not 
crowded, and I had to stand, my top pulled up quite a 
way on one side as I reached above my head to hold on 
to one of the straps hanging from the high bars. The 
carriages on the line I was using were still the 
old-fashioned ones with cooling-fans rather than 
air-conditioning, and as they slowly rotated they made 
the thin cloth flutter and then flatten against my 
hard nipples. It felt nice but made it rather too 
obvious that I was wearing no bra. Several times a man 
interrupted my concentration by asking me if I would 
like to join him for a coffee or a drink, but I 
modestly refused. In the crowded carriage I felt hands 
stroking my bottom through the denim and fingers 
tickling the sensitive fold between the lower curves 
of my arse and the tops of my thighs, left nicely 
exposed by the high cut of my shorts. Somehow I didn't 
mind that: it reminded me that I had the great gift - 
granted to all girls if they only knew it - of 
pleasing men and making them want to please me. Far 
from distracting me, the gentle stimulation aided me 
in my concentration on what would be expected of me 
during the evening ahead.

Most of the others were at the club already when I 
arrived: Masumi in modest blouse teamed with a tight 
miniskirt stretched over her plump bottom, Kin and Gin 
in smart co-ordinated mini-dresses with short flared 
skirts, one red and one blue, bubbling over with 
excitement as they described the attempts to pick them 
up as they walked, arms round each other's waist, 
through the smart streets of Akasaka. As soon as all 
seven of us were accounted for, Koizumi-san, the 
manager or mama-san, bustled in and addressed us.

"All of you here on time. Good. First rule of this 
establishment, if any of you are thinking of applying 
for jobs here." She smiled at us, and we giggled 
nervously. "Now, follow me and I'll show you where to 
take up position on stage."

She divided us into two groups and following her 
instructions the seven of us walked onto the stage, I 
leading a group of four from stage left, Masumi at the 
head of the other three from the right. She rehearsed 
us in walking slowly and modestly, eyes fixed on the 
ground: we would be nude except for our black heels 
and bondage straps, of course, but we were not to 
flaunt our nakedness - that would come later! The 
stage was already set for our performance and was hung 
with black curtains. We each had waiting for us a 
frame of glittering steel poles to which we would be 
bound, three along the back of the stage facing the 
audience and two arranged in a diagonal angle at each 
side. The upper bar of each frame bore a card with a 
letter clearly legible from the auditorium: because 
this was to be an elegant high-class show, the letters 
were not from the Roman alphabet but were the first 
seven _hiragana_ symbols in their traditional Japanese 
order [30]. My frame was the one in the middle - I was 
after all supposed to be the star of the evening's 
show! - and the _kana_ above it was therefore _ni_. 
The twins Kin and Gin were to be on either side of me, 
their identical appearance making a pretty effect.

When the mama-san was satisfied, we all returned to 
the narrow backstage area. Harry and Anton were 
waiting there, dressed only in tight black leather 
slacks. They greeted us cheerfully, but I noticed - 
perhaps the others did too - that they were each 
discreetly holding in one hand a long neatly coiled 
whip. I could not help picturing vividly what that 
might mean, and the implication sent delicious shivers 
of fear thrilling through me.

"Now, they'll be here in a few minutes, so get into 
costume! Come with me and I'll help you."

She led the way to a room we had not visited before. 
There were narrow grey steel cabinets along the wall, 
one for each of us to leave our clothes in. Little 
cards bearing our names had been placed in the slots 
on the doors, arranged in the order we had been 
instructed to take up on stage. The items we were to 
wear for the performance were ready for us inside. 
Harry and Anton followed us and, once we had taken our 
clothes off, helped us get ready and supported us as 
we tentatively practiced walking in our pretty, 
provocative costumes. So far as I was concerned, the 
narrow, 14-centimetre high heels of my black shoes, 
fixed tightly to my feet by only a strap across my 
toes and a broad band round each ankle, forced me to 
take each step with care, and I think the others felt 
the same. It took me a while to find a pair that 
fitted me snugly, and I had to exchange with Masumi 
who had feet a size larger than mine and could not 
comfortably squeeze them into the pair laid out ready 
for her. There were bright steel D-rings in the 
ankle-straps, so that the shoes were not only footwear 
but could also function as part of our bondage attire. 
Apart from the shoes, we were each to wear a polished 
belt in gleaming black leather, with matching 
wrist-bands and broad, snug-fitting collar.

When we were ready, the mama-san instructed us to 
stand in front of our steel cabinets with our backs to 
her and holding on tightly. There was a moment of 
silence. Then, without warning, Harry and Anton 
unfurled their long black whips. Each had three 
braided strands with tiny stinging metal points buried 
glittering at intervals along their length and ending 
in a little star of hard leather. Without warning the 
tormenting triple lashes began to whisk round us. I 
had expected that to happen, but even so the sudden 
sensation took my breath away. The two men were 
standing at each end of the line of seven nude girls 
and their whips were long enough to titillate several 
girls at once. Because I was placed at the centre of 
the row I benefited from the flickering ends of both 
sets of lashes with their hard leather tips as they 
kissed and delighted my bottom, my thighs, my lower 
back ... For a moment I remembered the admiring hands 
which had caressed my bottom and thighs on the subway. 
I bent forward as I clung to the steel cabinet and 
pushed my bottom outwards, eager to force the two men 
to grant me yet more of the whips' blissful embrace. I 
have no idea how long they went on delighting me, but 
it was not long enough! Only too soon the pretty 
sevenfold squeals of "Oh, more! Please! Harder!" 
turned to tearful complaints.

"That's enough!" said the mama-san severely.

"Oh, but it's not! It can't be finished! Please!" 
whimpered seven profoundly unfulfilled girls.

"That's all you get for now. I want you stimulated and 
deeply unsatisfied. That way you'll really put all 
you've got into what's been prepared for you - and the 
audience will enjoy it all the more."

She was right, of course, though it seemed a terribly 
cruel thing to leave us so aroused and so frustrated [31].

Harry and Anton put down their lovely whips and began 
wiping our bottoms tenderly with damp cloths, stroking 
away the few tiny spots of blood which the lashes with 
their cruel metal points had drawn from us.

A voice which I recognised as Reina's suddenly spoke 
from an address system, respectfully informing the 
mama-san that the audience was ready for us.

==

Since we had rehearsed our entrance, each of us went 
straight to our ordained position on stage. When we 
were ready, the two men, still bare-chested and 
dressed only in their tight leather slacks, set to 
work chaining us to our frames. They started at the 
two ends of the curved row of naked girls and took 
their time, knowing that the audience would enjoy 
watching the process of our docile, willing captivity. 
Each girl was secured to her frame by short chains 
locked to the steel rings in her ankle-straps and 
wrist-cuffs, so that she was held in a star position; 
then her helplessness was enhanced by chains leading 
from her collar and belt to the two vertical poles. 
She seemed to be held in a web of elegant chains. But 
despite her submissiveness each girl was held a little 
loosely: she could still move within a certain limit. 
The torment she was about to experience would 
certainly make her wriggle and squirm enjoyably - at 
least, the audience would find it enjoyable to watch 
her! But she would not be permitted to scream or beg 
for mercy: once all her chains were locked in place, a 
ball-gag was inserted into her mouth and its straps 
buckled tightly behind her head.

They had finished binding Masumi and Kokomi at the 
ends of the row now, and had moved on to Jun and Aki. 
Then it was the turn of Kin and Gin, whose 
irrepressible giggles and pleas to be chained yet more 
tightly clearly pleased the audience. At last they too 
were silenced by their gags, leaving only the tinkling 
of their chains as they wriggled and squirmed, eager 
for the torture to begin.

As I waited quietly for my turn, I looked out into the 
audience. I could just make out the tall figure of 
Reina standing at the back. In the rows of comfortable 
seats there were about forty men, and a couple of 
elegantly dressed women of a certain age: I guessed 
they were in a lesbian relationship and enjoyed the 
extra spice of watching, and assisting in, sadistic 
shows of this kind. Well, why not? I thought: there 
was no reason why the stimulation of seeing seven nude 
girls prettily bound and sweetly tortured should be 
restricted to men. My attention was caught by one man 
in particular, near the left end of the front row. He 
was quite elderly, thin and hardly good-looking, but 
he bore the obvious signs of wealth and authority. Two 
much younger men sat in the row behind him, leaning 
forward deferentially and responding to his comments: 
I caught the formula _shacho-san_, "Mr President". At 
an urgent signal from one of the young staffers, 
Reina, dressed I could now see in a smart miniskirted 
uniform, came quickly forward from the back of the 
auditorium and bent over the President. I could not 
hear what it was he wanted to ask her, but she was 
clearly able to assure him that whatever was bothering 
him had been attended to.

At last Harry and Anton reached me, one working on 
each side of me and taking the opportunity to caress 
my breasts, arse and pussy. Their touch on my arse, 
already extra sensitive from the kiss of their whips, 
was particularly delightful. I wriggled and begged 
them not to stop - but then I had to open my mouth for 
the gag. As a special treat, mine was held in place 
not only by the belts buckled behind my head but also 
by narrow straps passing on either side of my nose and 
joining into a band which fitted over the top of my 
head and connected with the back of my collar. The two 
men pulled it tight so that I was forced to hold my 
head up proudly. There was an extra refinement: a 
steel D-ring was fitted to the band at its highest 
point, and a chain joined it to the horizontal pole 
above my head. Gradually the chain was shortened till 
I was hanging by the harness holding my head and neck, 
only the tips of my toes still touching the floor. The 
effect on me of this cruel suspension was amazing and 
I could feel juice gathering in my cunt and beginning 
to tickle my thighs as it oozed down them. Could I 
bear it? I had to - I wanted to - oh, so much!

The mama-san stepped forward and addressed the 
audience.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she began with a deep bow, 
"and welcome to this very special presentation. As you 
know, the charming Hanako has just achieved her 
sixteenth birthday." She gestured towards me, 
suspended in my frame at the centre of the array of 
helpless femininity. "Ever since her first sexual 
experience she has dreamed of becoming an actress in 
sex-shows. Now she is free to attain that ambition - 
although it will be another two years before she may 
legally go on to become an adult video star. But with 
your help and support, she plans to devote those two 
years to increasing her experience and expanding her 
sexual repertoire."

She bowed again and there was polite applause.

"Now, gentlemen, as you see Hanako-chan and her six 
helpless companions are charmingly displayed for you 
to enjoy. But that is not all! My assistants will now 
add to their torment, and to your pleasure."

Harry and Anton again started at each end of the row, 
fixing toothed metal clamps to each girl's nipples and 
inserting a metal dildo deep into her cunt. The chains 
tinkled prettily as each girl in turn squirmed under 
this operation. When it came to my turn I twisted and 
swayed from the hook above my head. I wanted to scream 
and beg - for what? For mercy? For the clamps to be 
made even tighter? - but of course I could not. I 
could feel that the dildo fitted snugly into my cunt 
did not have the smooth metal surface I had expected: 
it was lined with countless little spikes which 
enhanced its contact with my dripping love-hole.

Reina was now passing a basket along the front row of 
the audience.

"The clamps and vibrators you have seen being fixed to 
the young ladies are radio-controlled," the mama-san 
continued. "Each girl has her own frequency, and the 
intensity of the pulsation and the electric shocks is 
controlled by these devices. Please make your choice, 
gentlemen."

The basket was now empty, and the seven men in the 
front row who had been invited to choose controls 
examined them with interest.

"The challenge, gentlemen, is to work out which girl 
is being controlled by the device you have chosen. 
When you think you know, call out her number. No, sir, 
they're not switched on yet," she said with a smile to 
the man at the end of the row on the President's right 
who was pointing his remote control in my direction 
and fiddling with the buttons and sliders. "If you 
guess wrong, then you must hand over the control to 
someone else so he can try. But we don't want to make 
it too easy for you! And the young ladies will enjoy 
the sensation so much that they won't want it too end 
too soon. Will you, girls?" she asked suddenly, 
turning towards the stage.

Naturally we could say nothing, but we all swayed and 
twisted in our chains letting out grunts and moans 
from behind our gags as best we could.

"Of course it wouldn't be difficult to send out sudden 
jolts of electricity and see which girl reacts," she 
went on, "so to make the game last longer my 
colleagues here are holding master controls which 
govern all seven sets of clamps and vibrators. They'll 
be setting up a sort of background interference which 
will get in the way of any messages you send. Would 
you please demonstrate?" she said, turning to Harry 
and Anton.

They raised their remote controls so the audience 
could see them, and then turned them on.

The effect, so far as I was concerned, was 
extraordinary. My breasts felt as if they had burst 
into flame as the electric current surged through them 
from the steel clamps, and the vibrator began to 
invade my cunt with more urgency than I had ever 
experienced from even the strongest and most lustful 
cock. Each one of the countless spikes seemed to be 
delivering its own level of electrical torment. Sweat 
broke out all over me and I swung from side to side on 
the tips of my toes, trying to escape from the torture 
while wanting yet more of it. If you have ever touched 
a live wire with your finger you will know how, 
without having to think about it, you instantly snatch 
it away. Imagine how it would feel to be overwhelmed 
by that instinct as the fluctuating current prickles 
your nipples and clitoris, but yet to be compelled to 
maintain the tormenting contact! [32] I suppose the 
other girls were reacting in the same way but I was so 
taken up with my own overwhelming experience that I 
had no consciousness left to spare for them. Then 
suddenly it was over, leaving me with my heart 
pounding and pussy gasping, pleading as best I could 
from behind my gag and longing for the wonderful 
torment to resume.

"Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?" I could just hear 
the mama-san say.

"One question," said a member of the audience. "What 
happens when we get it right?"

"Oh, then the girl is released from her frame," the 
mama-san explained, "and comes to you."

"Will she still be wearing her clamps and vibrator? 
Will the electric shock control still work?"

"Of course, if that is your wish! Once you have won 
her, she is your slave for the rest of the evening and 
will do whatever you instruct her to do. And of course 
_you_ may do anything to _her_ that you fancy. We are 
well supplied with instruments and equipment of all 
kinds, and you will find the young ladies very 
willing. In fact, they are exceptionally hot and 
ready. As part of their preparation for this evening 
they have been instructed to refrain from all sex, 
even _onani_, for several days and nights. So their 
pretty appetites are at their peak."

That was strictly correct. We had been so instructed - 
but whether we had obeyed the instruction was another 
matter. Speaking for myself, my sexual appetite was 
indeed at its peak, but my excited anticipation of the 
evening's pleasures would have made it so regardless 
of how much or how little sex I had had beforehand.

"And to increase their appetites still further, they 
were all given a light whipping before coming on 
stage. Not enough to satisfy them - oh, no, we know 
better than that! - but enough to stimulate them 
nicely for you to enjoy. I think I can promise you a 
pleasant evening, gentlemen. Let us begin!"

And begin they did. The huge surge of energy would 
have lifted me off my feet if I had not been so firmly 
constrained. The dildo gripped deep inside me by my 
greedy cunt and held there by its many spikes served 
two purposes: simultaneously vibrating delightfully 
and delivering an endless and varying flow of electric 
shocks all along its length and especially to the root 
of my clitoris. That alone would have been enough, had 
I been free, to turn me into a helpless mass of 
pleasure squealing and arching my back as I was driven 
relentlessly to sublime orgasm. As it was, I could do 
no more than groan from behind my gag, quivering and 
shivering as I twisted on the tips of my toes. But 
that was not all, of course: my breasts were subjected 
individually to a fluctuating but relentless current 
as I tried at once to escape from the maddening 
torture of the electrified clamps and to press my 
nipples yet more firmly into their steel embrace. To 
begin with at least I could distinguish between the 
background flow of pleasure delivered by the controls 
held by Harry and Anton and the peaks of agony 
sadistically inflicted on me by whoever had the 
control tuned to my individual wavelength, in the hope 
that the answering spasms of my sweating, twisting, 
quivering body would betray me. But soon enough all 
these extreme and wonderful sensations merged into one 
irresistible and ever-varying torrent which mastered 
me fully and whipped me along the endless pathway to 
paradise. How happy I was to surrender to it! How 
amazing it was to be a girl in the full bloom of a 
sensuality which gave me access to this supreme 
ecstasy!

That is what men are for, I suddenly realised. Not 
that I thought it in words - I was beyond words by now 
- it was a sort of vision that came to me. The Gods 
had put men on earth, with their cocks and their 
strength and the ingenuity of their sexual 
imagination, so that they could fulfil girls' sensual 
destiny. They were my servants, my slaves even. Their 
purpose was to penetrate my gasping love-holes with 
their thick, passionate cocks, to lash my firm but 
supple arse and thighs with their loving whips, to 
torture with steel clamps and electric current the 
love-buttons proudly thrusting from my hard breasts 
and shyly peeping from my tender cunt, and thereby 
take me to a paradise I could not reach on my own. All 
I had to do was make my body desirable and seductive 
enough to stimulate their love and their cruelty, and 
take care not to destroy their poor, simple delusion 
that they were doing all this because they wanted to, 
rather than at my command. Then this exquisitely 
unendurable ecstasy would be mine for ever. I am 
striving to put this in words because that is the only 
way I can convey it, but it came to me in a single 
flash as a revelation while I was stretched tautly in 
my chains squirming and writhing in ecstatic torment.

Somewhere back in the real world, members of the 
audience were calling out the syllables with which we 
seven girls were labelled. Usually they were then told 
they were wrong and had to hand their remote controls 
to other spectators who could then try their skill. 
Occasionally someone was right and a girl was released 
from her bondage and handed over to the winner. Kin 
and Gin, I was vaguely aware, had scampered eagerly 
across the stage taking sexy little steps in their 
heels, seeking out their new masters and squealing 
happily as they looked forward to a joyful night of 
sexual slavery. Masumi was claimed by one of the 
lesbians and joined her and her partner. I wished I 
could watch what they did to and with her - there 
would be lovely new things to learn, I thought! But 
Masumi would tell me all about them later, and we 
could try them out together.

I did not know it at the time, but my own performance 
had been carefully planned. As other girls were 
identified and claimed, it became clear that it was 
the President who held the control tuned to my 
frequency. But the letters he called out were always, 
deliberately I later realised, wrong and he 
surrendered the control to one of his young men who 
used it with ingenious sadism before making his own 
deliberate mistake and returning it to his boss. But 
at last, accompanied by sycophantic applause from the 
young men, Reina and the mama-san, he called out 
"_Ni_!"

Harry and Anton rushed forward and freed me from my 
chains. They removed my leather belt and wrist-cuffs 
and wiped the sweat from my body with delicately 
perfumed damp cloths. They then began to remove my 
collar and the other straps encircling my head. The 
President stood up and moved towards the stage, ready 
to receive me.

"Yes, take her gag out," he instructed. "I want her 
mouth free. But can't she keep her head-straps on? 
They suit her."

"It would be a little difficult without the gag, 
sir," said the mama-san deferentially. "But perhaps 
you would care to see her wear a nose-hook?"

The President nodded curtly and very soon Reina was 
coming towards me with one. She gently wiped my face, 
which was wet with sweat and saliva from the gag and 
harness I had worn, then deftly slipped the two steel 
hooks into my nostrils and led the strap over the top 
of my head to join my collar. She pulled it tight so 
that I was again forced to hold my head up proudly.

"Nice," said the President. "Oh, leave her 
nipple-clamps on. I like them."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

They were the first words I had spoken since he had 
claimed me as his slave. He beckoned me to join him in 
the auditorium. My feet were unsteady in the tight 
high-heels, and my legs were shaking from the long 
captivity in the chains, but I came as quickly as I 
could down the shallow steps from the stage. He 
resumed his seat in the front row and spread his legs. 
I knew at once what he wanted and knelt in front of 
him.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked as I fumbled with his 
belt and the zipper of his trousers.

"Oh, _yes_, sir!" I said with sincerity. "It was 
lovely! Thank you, thank you! The way the electricity 
kept peaking and cutting right through me like a sword 
... you were so clever, sir! It was the most wonderful 
experience I have ever had ..."

"Good. I look forward to torturing you like that many 
more times."

But I could not reply: my mouth was fully occupied 
with his erect cock. It was of only medium size, and 
was gnarled and deeply rutted as an old man's cock 
usually is. I began by exploring its ridges and 
hollows with the tip of my tongue, holding it in 
position with one hand and prickling his balls with 
the long nails of the other. He lay back in his seat 
and began to groan with pleasure, while his two young 
men watched and encouraged him with discreet murmurs 
of "Oh, good!" and "Well done, sir!" One of them 
gestured to me to take the old man's cock fully into 
my mouth: he clearly knew what his boss liked and how 
quickly he would come. I took the hint and drew him 
fully into me, letting the tip tickle the back of my 
throat and sucking the shaft vigorously. Soon I felt 
it thicken as the load of cum began to force its way 
up from his balls, and then my tongue was flooded with 
the thick nectar. It tasted rather bitter, lacking the 
fresh, velvety richness of boys' and young men's 
semen. But I had given satisfaction, that was the main 
thing. As I sat back on my heels and opened my mouth 
so he could watch me savour and swallow the gift of 
his lust, he leant forward, murmured "Good, good!" and 
reached down to pet my breasts and fiddle with the 
mechanism of my clamps. As the cruel grasp of the 
steel jaws suddenly increased I let out a little gasp.

"You like that?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh, y-yes, yes ..." I said, trying to sound hesitant.

Let him think he is hurting me, I thought. If he 
believes I am in pain but desperate to hide it, then 
he will do even lovelier things to me as he tries to 
take me over the limit of my endurance and make me beg 
for mercy.

He began to stand up. The young men rearranged his 
trousers and fastened his belt for him. I stayed 
kneeling on the floor, gazing up at him in awe. The 
mama-san bustled forward, Reina following her. From my 
kneeling position I could see for the first time how 
elegant she looked in her shiny dark red miniskirt and 
black fishnet tights.

"We have a room for you, sir," said the mama-san, "if 
you would care to use it. A _special_ room."

"What do you think, Hanako-chan?" he asked in a kindly 
tone, leaning down to me. "Shall we go and explore 
this, er, special room?"

"Oh, yes, sir!" I said in my best little-girl voice. 
"It sounds lovely. That is," I added hurriedly, "if 
_you_ wish it. I am your slave, sir - now and for ever 
..."

"Good, good ..."

Yes, I thought secretly, the revelation I had been 
granted still fresh in my mind, I shall play the part 
of being your slave. But in reality - in the new 
reality I have now discovered - I am your mistress, 
and you and all your staff and servants exist only to 
do my bidding as you propel my sensuality to ever 
greater heights of gratification. The whole point of 
being a girl is sexual pleasure: the only purpose of 
being a man is to give it to her.

We left the little theatre by a side door. The 
President slipped his arm round my waist and hurried 
me along the corridor to the "special" room.

"Please sir," I said humbly, "forgive me ... I can 
take only little steps in these shoes ..."

"Yes, yes, all right," he said, giving me more time 
and looking down with a pleased smile at my feet as I 
tiptoed along, deliberately exaggerating the 
constraint of the tight high-heels. "Nice. Do you 
always wear heels like that?"

"Oh, yes, sir! As high and tight as I can manage. My 
lovers - I mean, my masters, my owners - seem to like 
them."

He said nothing more till the mama-san opened a door 
with a little flourish and urged us politely to enter. 
The room was comfortably furnished with a couch, a low 
bed, some armchairs and a side-table which seemed to 
be heaped with instruments. But there were other 
things as well: a metal frame similar to the one I had 
inhabited for the last hour on stage, a padded horse 
which a girl could be bent over while being whipped or 
arse-fucked, and a wooden throne. Clearly the 
comfortable furniture was intended for my audience 
while the instruments of torture were for me.

"I'll leave you now, Hanako-chan," said Reina. "I'm 
joining your friend Masumi and her lady-friends. Have 
a lovely time."

"Oh? Then you too ... have a lovely time," I said 
politely.

"I'm _sure_ I will!" she replied, and left, her thighs 
swishing sexily as she moved.

I stood submissively before my owner, my hands folded 
in front of my crotch. The nose-hook forced me to hold 
my head up proudly but I lowered my eyes modestly.

"What would you like me to do first, Master?" I asked 
shyly, eager to begin but trying not to show it.

He turned to the mama-san.

"Did you say she was whipped before the show?" he 
asked.

"Oh, yes! They all were. All seven. Not for long, of 
course, and not hard. Just a little appetiser."

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked me.

"Oh, yes! But it was not nearly enough ..." I added 
longingly.

"Well, we must put that right."

Without waiting for instructions, the two young men 
picked up wrist-cuffs from the selection of bondage 
implements on the side-table and soon I was imprisoned 
within the whipping-frame, the short chains hanging 
from its bars fastened to my wrists and ankles and 
pulling me into a star shape.

"Remove her breast-clamps," he ordered.

"Ohhh ..." I protested sadly as their loving bite was 
released.

"Don't worry, dear," he said kindly. "Your pretty 
breasts will soon be feeling the whip instead."

"Thank you, sir," I murmured.

"Now, what shall we choose?" he said thoughtfully.

He stood up. The young men brought him a selection of 
whips and he examined them carefully, consulting me as 
he did so.

"I'm sure you like this one," he said, showing me a 
whip of many long, thin knotted strands.

"Oh, _yes_!" I said, hardly able to speak for pleasure 
at meeting such an old friend.

"But I like to see a girl whipped with one of these," 
he went on, holding out a long bull-whip. The polished 
leather creaked sexily. "Kiss it!"

I kissed the two metres of tightly braided lash 
hungrily along almost all its length as he moved it 
along my lips. The smell of leather intoxicated me. 
When I had finished he handed the instrument to one of 
the young men. The other was holding the whip of many 
knotted strands. I noticed that while I had been 
engaged in kissing my new lover, the elegant braided 
whip, they had taken off their jackets, their shirts 
and their shoes and were now standing in front of me 
in only their suit trousers.

The President settled himself comfortably on the 
couch.

"Begin!" he commanded.

The man with the long whip moved behind me and 
suddenly I felt the kiss of the beautiful thing as it 
encircled my hips. It was long enough to pass round me 
twice: just a light stroke to begin with, but I knew 
this was only the beginning ... meanwhile the other 
young man stood in front of me, smiling quietly as he 
held his instrument in his right hand and passed the 
many knotted strands slowly through his left. I longed 
to feel them kissing my breasts, so neglected and 
unloved since my clamps had been removed - but all at 
once the true assault on my hips and thighs began. I 
had no space in my mind to yearn for other pleasures 
as I was spun like a top by the braided leather, 
whirled up towards the paradise which is every 
sensually enlightened girl's birthright.

I came back to the ordinary world when the whipping 
stopped. Hands were caressing my breasts - which of 
the young men was doing that? It didn't matter - and I 
opened my eyes to find the President standing in front 
of me, his fingers dabbling in my cunt.

"Good! Good!" he was saying to the young men. "That 
was very pleasing. For her as well as for me. Look how 
juicy she is!"

He withdrew his fingers and demonstrated how they 
glistened in the light. He licked them, and smiled 
with pleasure.

"More, please," he said; then, looking at me, "you'd 
like to be whipped more, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, sir - please, if I may!"

"Of course you may. That's what they're here for," he 
said, waving his hand vaguely towards the others.

This time it began with the many-stranded whip on my 
breasts and tummy, the myriad knots scattering 
stardust over me as they bit delicately into my 
sensitive flesh. Oh, how I longed for it to last for 
ever! This whip's lighter touch made it harder for me 
to resume my progress to paradise, but it was fun to 
be made to work at it, swaying and giving myself to 
the whip's love, squealing happily and begging for 
more. I saw the President, seated on his couch, 
gesture towards the man behind me, and before I could 
register fully what that meant, the braided whip 
joined the game, driving me ever higher towards my 
ultimate destiny.

I came back to reality to find myself supported by 
strong arms as my chains were removed. My damp, 
quivering body was tenderly wiped down with a lightly 
perfumed cloth, and I was placed gently in a leather 
armchair facing the President on his couch. I was 
sprawling with my bottom only just on the seat and my 
legs spread out in front of me. I felt I should sit 
more respectfully, but I was too comfortable and 
relaxed.

"No, stay as you are," said the President, guessing 
what I felt. "You've earned a rest. Take off her 
nose-hook," he added, "and one of you ..."

One of the young men gently removed the strap holding 
the hooks in my nostrils, which made it easier for me 
to look across at the President from my relaxed 
position in the leather armchair. The other knelt on 
the carpet in front of me, placed his hands on my 
thighs, leant forward and delicately kissed my cunt. 
He ran the tip of his tongue along my lips, then began 
to enter me, lapping up the love-juice which his and 
his colleague's efforts had caused to flow, and ending 
each lick by teasing my clitoris. After doing this six 
or seven times, he looked up at me and smiled.

"Nice?"

"Very nice."

"You must show me how you like it best. Put me where 
you want me."

He snuggled his face more closely into my crotch. How 
lovely it felt! I could not resist placing my hands on 
the back of his head and directing his efforts more 
precisely. He responded very willingly.

"Is it nice for you too?" I asked.

"Very, _very_ nice!" I heard him reply in a stifled 
voice. "You taste _so_ good!"

Following his directions I closed my thighs around his 
head, then crossed my ankles imprisoning him. I rested 
the sharp tips of my heels on his back. I could make 
out what sounded like appreciative noises from 
somewhere inside me, so I pressed harder, spurring him 
on. It was my turn now to be the sadist. [33] He 
responded by sucking and kissing even more deeply and 
enthusiastically. It was a beautiful experience: I lay 
back in the chair with my eyes closed and enjoyed it.

"Now, Hanako," I suddenly heard the President say, "I 
need to talk to you."

I opened my eyes - it was not possible to do more than 
that with my lover's face pushing me down into my 
lying position - and paid attention.

"You will have guessed that I am President of a big 
company. I shan't tell you its name - though you will 
find out, I do not doubt, if we work together. Nor 
will I tell you my name, nor give you any personal 
details like whether I am married. None of that is 
important. What matters is that I like young girls 
like you. I maintain an apartment in central Tokyo. It 
is big, modern and comfortable. I think you will like 
it. The girl who was living there has left." He raised 
a hand to stop me asking questions. "It was all very 
friendly: let's just say she was getting a little too 
old to interest me any more. I am offering you her 
position and her apartment."

I was too astonished to reply. In any case the young 
man's tongue deep inside my cunt was making it 
difficult to think clearly.

"The arrangement is this. There was a time when I took 
pride in the pleasure I could get from young girls, 
and the pleasure I gave them. I fucked my girls very 
frequently. Not any more. I am too old to do anything 
much except enjoy watching them being pleasured by the 
young men I provide for them, as you have been this 
evening. And I am too realistic to imagine that they 
enjoy my occasional sexual use of them."

I tried to protest.

"No, no: if you are to work for me it must be on a 
basis of honesty. You will put on a show for me to 
enjoy whenever I want it, a show you will enjoy 
yourself. If it stimulates me enough to want to fuck 
you, then I will enjoy doing that - and whether or not 
you enjoy it too won't really matter to me. One of my 
secretaries will let you know when I propose to visit 
you, giving you time to prepare. When I am not with 
you ... and of course I maintain other apartments, and 
other girls about whom you will know nothing ... you 
may enjoy yourself as you wish. I hope you will use 
your free time to expand your sexual repertoire and 
prepare yourself for the day when you leave my employ 
and follow whatever career you fancy: as a full-time 
actress, prostitute, bar-hostess, bath-house girl ... 
my office has contacts in all parts of the sex 
industry and will see to it that you are given a good 
start."

I said nothing. I listened hard, even though it was 
difficult to concentrate with the young man's tongue 
exploring deep inside my cunt.

"The apartment is of course equipped with a wide 
variety of sex-toys and equipment. If there is 
anything lacking, any new gadget which will stimulate 
your masochism and please me when I see it used on 
you, just ask and it will be provided. Are you 
enjoying what he is doing to you?"

He gestured at the young man whose face was buried 
between my legs.

"Oh, yes! He's very good."

"I'm glad. I have far too many young men working for 
me. They are supposed to be management trainees but as 
far as I can make out they spend most of their time 
fucking the secretaries. Well, that's what OLs are 
for, of course. I will supply you with a team of my 
young men to look after you and do to you whatever you 
most enjoy. The girl you are replacing had a regular 
group of twelve. But if you need more, or if any of 
them are not to your taste, just tell my secretary and 
she will arrange things."

I was so astonished I could say nothing.

"I expect you to use them in staging entertainments to 
stimulate me when I call on you. And they will serve 
your friends too, of course, when they visit you."

"My friends may visit me?"

"Of course! Whenever you like. And they may take part 
in entertaining me too, if you think it appropriate. 
The other six girls here this evening - they are your 
friends?"

"Oh, yes! We have formed a group to provide 
entertainments ... at parties and so on ... we call 
ourselves the Chain Gang."

"Good, good. There are some talented girls there. 
Especially the two ... are they twins? Yes, I thought 
so. Being serviced by a pair of identical twins is 
very agreeable. When they are young and enthusiastic 
as your friends are. I hope you will all continue to 
work together. And you may invite male lovers to visit 
you, and leave the apartment whenever you wish. The 
condition of your employment with me is that you shall 
be available to entertain me whenever I request it. I 
shall give you fair notice of my visits, as I said. I 
may also require you, and perhaps other girls in my 
employment, to attend meetings or events arranged for 
my business contacts. On such occasions you will 
receive detailed instructions from my secretary. In 
return for your work you will receive an allowance, 
enough for you to live on but also I think to cover 
any incidental expenses - clothes and any sex toys - 
related to your entertainment of myself." He gestured 
towards the pile of items laid out on the side-table. 
"But I expect complete honesty in our relationship. Is 
that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Fully understood."

"Good! Well, seeing you pleasured like that is giving 
me an appetite." He turned to the other young man. 
"Shall we put her in the hot-chair? No, I think we'll 
use the horse."

The man kneeling between my legs quickly withdrew, 
stood up and wiped his face. The two of them took me 
by the arms and pulled me upright.

"Would you like her gagged, sir?" one asked.

"No, I'd like to hear her scream. And I may want her 
mouth later."

I found myself, kindly but firmly, walked over to the 
horse and placed over it. My ankles were gently pulled 
apart. The lover who had been sucking my cunt had not 
wiped me, and the combination of his saliva and my 
love-juice felt cool and made me shiver as I lay with 
my legs open. My head and arms hung loosely over the 
other side of the horse, my hands almost touching the 
floor. One young man squatted beside me and held my 
wrists while the other discussed whipping techniques 
with my Master. I could not see the instruments he was 
offering him, but soon I was aware of my Master's feet 
approaching me.

"Hold her head up," he said to the young man grasping 
my wrists. "Now," he then said to me, "I think I will 
get pleasure from whipping you with _him_. And I take 
it for granted that you will enjoy it too. Kiss him."

He held out with both hands a long flexible instrument 
sheathed in black leather and with a triangular 
decoration at the tip. It was a riding-crop. He moved 
it along my lips so that I could kiss its full length. 
I had expected to find the shaft a slim wooden or 
bamboo rod of circular cross-section under the 
leather, but as it was moved along my lips I could 
tell that whatever it was made of had been shaved into 
a triangular shape with sharp edges. I began to 
tremble as I imagined this elegant instrument biting 
lusciously into my quivering bottom.

"You will of course scream," he said in a 
matter-of-fact tone. "I shall like that."

"Of course, sir," I mumbled as the crop was withdrawn 
from my lips.

"Feet apart," he said mildly, "and bottom well up. 
Yes, that's nice. Very pretty."

I shuffled my feet into the desired position and 
pressed my hips firmly into the padded top of the 
horse. I had never been whipped with a crop before and 
wondered how intense the pain would be. How many 
strokes would he grant me before he tired? Would he 
then instruct one of the young men to take over so as 
to keep me floating in exquisite agony, or would he 
bring me back to earth all too soon? My body was 
shivering with the familiar sensation of delicious 
fear.

He must have guessed what I was feeling because he 
made me wait, my dread of what was soon to happen and 
my longing for it so at odds with each other that I 
began to plead with him to release me from the 
conflict obsessing me. Then I felt his hands gently 
stroking my arse, the tips of his fingers exploring 
the valley between my tense buttocks and delicately 
tickling my anus and my cunt. My wordless pleading 
rose to a high-pitched moan. I could not bear the 
tension any longer. He knew that, of course; and 
deliberately prolonged it and increased it.

"Do you know, my dear," he said as his fingers 
wandered over my shivering flesh, "why whipping a 
girl's bottom is so satisfying? No, of course you 
don't. It is because the Gods have designed it for the 
purpose. You see, it is the one part of you which can 
be beaten without any risk of damaging any vital 
organ. A girl's bottom is just a beautiful curved 
mound of firm flesh, its surface crammed with 
sensitive nerve-endings. If I beat your breasts or 
your stomach, I have to be careful not to injure you. 
But it's almost impossible to harm your bottom. I can 
whip it and cane it as much as I fancy. The instrument 
bounces off it very prettily, and it is beautifully 
sensitive. The nerves flood your brain with the agony 
we both enjoy so much. You see, I have researched the 
matter thoroughly! Now we shall begin. Please scream 
to show you appreciate my work."

I felt the leather of the crop caressing my shivering 
bottom as he drew it gently across its twin mounds, as 
if he was calculating to the millimetre exactly where 
to strike. Perhaps he was in fact doing just that.

"Oh, so pretty," I heard him say, "so very pretty! But 
how much prettier it will look when the crop bites 
into it and bounces off again, leaving it covered in 
red lines!"

My heart was pounding and I could hardly breathe, so 
intense was the terror and the lust possessing me. I 
could not help myself.

"Oh, sir," I gasped, "please don't make me wait!"

"You want it so much? That is good, very good!"

I felt the instrument, my cruel lover, stroking and 
measuring its target again. Then suddenly, without any 
warning, it sizzled down onto me, caressing me with 
all its strength. For a moment, as it released me, I 
was conscious only of the shock. Then a line of white 
flame was etched into my arse, its heat flooding 
through me, setting my clitoris on fire, then 
consuming my mind with the most intense agony I had 
ever experienced. This was the agony he had promised 
me - the pain I had been told girls normally felt as a 
whipping commenced, giving way gradually to the 
ecstasy of masochism, but which I in my eager embrace 
of the whip and its pleasures somehow never felt - or 
only a little, once, under Ken's whip - as I rushed 
headlong into paradise. Oh, but how terrifyingly 
wonderful it was, and what a miracle of feeling I had 
been missing! I wanted to beg for more, for this 
incredible experience to last forever, but I could 
only let out a wordless, high-pitched scream. Of 
course there was much more to come. My Master gave the 
agony time to consume me, then brought the crop down 
again a precise millimetre below the first fiery line. 
Again the flames flooded through me and I screamed in 
ecstatic torment. The next line was slightly higher - 
and this time I could feel the flames consuming the 
pleasure centres of my mind, setting them on fire, 
causing them to overwhelm the agony with the most 
intense delight. Now I was free to beg for more, 
pleading with my wonderful Master to give me endless 
joy.

Of course it was his pleasure that mattered, not mine, 
but I think my screams and the bouncing of my arse on 
the padded top of the horse as I simultaneously shrank 
from the torture of the crop's shaft and rose to 
welcome it gave him the satisfaction he sought. 
Through the shining red mist which overwhelmed me I 
could hear his murmurs of "Good, my dear! Very good." 
Between each slow stroke the precisely applied agony 
gradually merged with the background glow of my 
red-hot arse, which in turn stoked the overwhelming 
furnace of ecstasy which was consuming my whole being. 
But it ended at last, just as the progression of 
strokes reached the sensitive fold between my arse and 
the tops of my thighs and the sharp-edged shaft gave 
me a final urgent thrust towards paradise. Then my 
Master was kneeling by my head as I hung over the side 
of the horse, gasping, weeping and begging for more.

"That was good, my dear! Very good," he said again. 
"And what is more, you have given me an erection. I am 
very pleased with you."

I could hear rather than see the two young men rushing 
obediently to help him unbuckle his belt and lower his 
trousers. Then he seized my long hair, twisted it 
round his fist and pulled my head up. His gnarled old 
cock, certainly erect, was pointing at my face.

"Carry on whipping her, you two, while I take her," he 
instructed.

"Oh yes, _please_!" I murmured.

"Use the cat with the knotted lashes," he said, 
ignoring me. "She'll like that."

Before I could beg instead for more of the extreme 
pleasure of the riding-crop, he moved forward on his 
knees and shoved his cock into my mouth. He was right, 
of course. The myriad hard knots burst over my red-hot 
bottom like a shower of needles, stimulating me but 
not letting me lose control or ability to perform my 
main task. I let my arms go on dangling down the side 
of the horse while I worked on his cock with just my 
lips and my tongue. It was going to take him a long 
time to come, I thought; but I did not mind that. The 
longer it took the longer the maddening whip would 
keep me at least on the lower slopes of ecstasy.

Before I could make him come, he pulled out of my 
mouth.

"Turn her over!" he commanded.

The whipping stopped and strong arms lifted me, then 
placed me gently back on the horse so that now my 
bottom was pressing against the padded top and my arms 
and legs were hanging on either side.

"She needs something under her arse," I heard him say.

In a few moments I was lifted again. This time when I 
was lowered back onto the horse, I felt the cruel 
prickle of a myriad sharp points pressing into my 
sensitive skin. Some kind of matting of stiff bristles 
had been placed over the soft padding so as to keep 
the sensation in my tortured arse at the peak of 
anguish. Oh, how lovely! Oh, how kind!

The whipping was now pleasuring my breasts, my tummy 
and my thighs. I think both of the young men were 
working hard with knotted lashes, but I could see 
nothing. My Master's cock was demanding entry into my 
upside-down mouth, and his balls were slapping against 
my forehead. Instead of relying only on my lips and 
tongue, I raised one hand and took his shaft between 
my fingers, stroking it as it emerged rhythmically 
from my mouth only to plunge into it again; with my 
other hand I tickled his balls with the tips of my 
nails. I could hear him calling out "Good, good!" and 
it must have been good because I was soon rewarded 
with gobbets of his bitter-tasting cum.

"Well done, my dear!" he said as he finally withdrew. 
"That was good." He stood up, and from my upside-down 
position I watched him wipe his cock, and then pull on 
his underpants and his trousers. One of the young men 
helped him with his belt. "My secretary will be in 
touch on Monday about arrangements for your move into 
the apartment. Good night."

I saw his feet moving towards the door.

"Carry on whipping her," I heard him instruct the 
young men. "As long as she likes. She deserves it."

The door clicked shut behind him.

==

Reina drove me home in her little car. It was kind of 
her: I was hardly in touch with the real world and in 
no state to face a late-night journey on the subway 
among men returning from their evening sessions in 
bars and strip-clubs. My red-hot, throbbing bottom and 
erect, excited breasts were still flooding the 
pleasure-centres of my mind with thrilling 
gratification and I really cannot imagine what would 
have happened if I had tried to wear my tight denim 
shorts and skimpy cropped top over them. The extra 
sensation would have driven me almost mad with 
ecstatic desire. Instead, Reina covered me up loosely 
with a sheet from the mama-san's private room. Had I 
been more in control of my actions taking the subway 
alone and placing myself at the mercy of all that male 
lust would have given me the greatest imaginable 
thrill. I had seen videos of beautiful, sexually 
uninhibited _kuro-garu_ [34] doing just that on buses 
and subway trains, and had fantasised about enjoying 
such experiences myself. But Reina was right not to 
let me turn my dream into reality tonight. I would 
need to be fully in control of myself, and of the men 
who would use me while I tried - just a little - to 
resist, for such an adventure to give me the 
satisfaction it should.

My mother had not waited up for me: I had told her I 
would be late and assured her I would be in good 
hands. (As indeed I had been!) Reina let us both into 
the house as quietly as possible so as not to wake my 
mother, and helped me shower. Then she soothed my 
body, still overheated from the stimulation of the 
whips, with cooling skin-cream, and put me to bed.

I was too excited to sleep. Tomorrow, a Saturday, 
would be a busy day. I would have to explain to my 
mother that I had been offered a dream job with a very 
important company - it hadn't taken me long to 
identify the discreet mark on the lapel-pins worn by 
my new Master's young employees on their discarded 
suit jackets. She would be pleased about that. But she 
would also have to accept that it would mean both 
leaving school and leaving home. Well, when it came to 
the point I did not think she would stand in my way. 
Reina had promised to help persuade her.

When at last I closed my eyes the girl I had seen all 
those weeks before on my first evening expedition with 
Reina was walking towards me. As on that first 
occasion she was exquisitely nude, balancing elegantly 
on her tall slim heels. Her lover had his arm round 
her waist, his head turned attentively towards her. 
This time I could see a beautiful long whip of many 
thin, knotted strands dangling casually from his right 
hand. My whole body shivered sympathetically as I 
watched her on her way to receive her reward for 
having skilfully stimulated his desire. As she came 
close to me she smiled.

"Are you happy?" she asked. "Are you getting 
everything you always wanted, and enjoying it?"

"Oh, yes!" I replied. "And thank you, thank you for 
showing me the way!"

She passed me. The tails of the long whip dragged 
along the carpet behind her lover. Wherever she went, 
she would always be there for me, I thought.

A whole new life was about to begin. I fell asleep at 
last, and dreamt of being pleasured by an army of 
respectful and obedient young men, all wearing in 
their jackets the lapel-pin of one of Japan's leading 
corporations.


FOOTNOTES

[29] If you have read the history of Kimiko Kobayashi 
you may remember that it was at a party in this 
establishment that she gave her first big public 
performance. See _I Am Not Ashamed_ Chapter XVIII.
- B W

[30] The fifty basic syllables of the Japanese 
language can be written in either of two sets of 
symbols called _hiragana_ and _katakana_. In modern 
Japanese they are normally arranged in groups of five: 
first the vowels alone, _a-i-u-e-o_, then the sound 
_k_ followed by a vowel, _ka-ki-ku-ke-ko_, and so on. 
But the traditional arrangement, probably dating back 
to the 11th Century AD, is taken from a poem which 
ingeniously uses each syllable once only, and begins 
_i-ro-ha-ni-ho-he-to_. - B W

[31] Now that I am more experienced, and less greedy 
in my sexual appetites, I have learnt that it is both 
cruel and beautiful to be treated like that by a 
lover. The fulfilment, when at last it comes, is even 
more profound when it is preceded by a long period of 
frustrated lust. - S O

[32] No, don't just imagine it - experience it! 
Equipment of the kind I have described can easily be 
obtained from shops specialising in fetish sex-toys, 
and any of your lovers would be delighted to help you 
experiment with it. But be careful! You will soon 
become addicted to the sweet torment. - S O

[33] "Inside every masochist is a sadist longing to be 
released." Ancient Japanese proverb. (Well, if it 
isn't, it ought to be.) Release the sadist hidden in 
your masochistic girlfriend and you will be rewarded 
with some very remarkable and pleasing experiences. - 
B W

[34] _Kuro-garu_, "black girls", are an intriguing 
recent development in Japanese feminine sexuality. The 
word comes from the deep all-over tans which are an 
essential part of their style. They favour heavy 
make-up, blatantly provocative clothes and bleached 
hair, enjoy getting drunk and feel entitled, as 
liberated sexual beings, to frequent bouts of casual, 
anonymous sex. The AV industry has produced a whole 
series of cult movies showing beautiful _kuro-garu_ 
offering themselves to be splendidly gang-raped on 
public transport.


END OF LEARNING ABOUT MYSELF

For complete series, and the other five books in the 
"Megumi" collection, see 
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Bob_Williams
