ALL I EVER WANTED 12 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 02: ALL I EVER WANTED BY MEGUMI KATO AND SAMANTHA WEST CHAPTER XII Homecoming It was about one o'clock when the party began to break up. One of my lovers kindly offered me a ride back to Shibuya, which at that time of night saved me the trouble of standing for what could be a long time at the nearest crossroads, trying to attract choosy taxi-drivers with sign-language indicating that I would pay two or three times the official fare. While he was finding his clothes I went to say good-bye to Lloyd. "It was a lovely party," I said; "thank you, and please invite me again soon." "Of course," he said; "and thank _you_ for looking after that little girl who was so lost." "You mean Emi?" "Is that her name? Such a shame, and at her first party too. I asked a couple of boys to go over and give her some fun. But by the time they got there you had taken over." "They gave her plenty of fun, once I'd shown her a few things. How to make herself desirable, you know ..." "Well, thanks anyway." "Not at all, a pleasure. But you're inviting them a bit young these days, aren't you?" "How old did she say she was?" "She _said_ seventeen; but I'd've thought hardly a day over sixteen - if that. Now you _will_ be careful, Roido-san, won't you?" I said earnestly, taking him by the arm. "If the authorities find out you're offering underage girls to your friends for sex, they could deport you." "D'you really think so?" "Yes, I do think so. And we can't afford to lose you, or your parties. How did Emi come to be here tonight?" "Well, he -" he looked round the room as if expecting to spot someone or other, then turned back to me "- somebody brought a girl who's still in her final year at high school ... I think he met her through one of those dating agencies ... and she brought her younger sister, three years younger I think, who was as keen as anything to find out what big sister was getting up to at those mysterious parties she'd kept on hearing about ... and _she_ brought a few friends from her class, and ..." "And so," I concluded, having had time to do the arithmetic, "there are fifteen-year-old girls here, or even younger. Oh, Lloyd, _do_ be careful." "Well," he said, a bit defensively I thought, "I don't check their ages as they come through the door. If a girl _looks_ old enough to be fucked, and behaves as if she _wants_ to be fucked, then I believe she _should_ be fucked - don't you?" "Yes, of course," I said. "A girl always knows when she's ready. And we're ready younger and younger these days, whatever the law may say." "I'm so glad you think that. And if they're ready and know they're ready, why deprive them of so much pleasure by making them wait longer - or ourselves for that matter?" There was no answer to that. "And as you said yourself, girls are learning much more quickly nowadays to enjoy fucking. And they _love_ doing it while everyone watches ... the sweet little darlings ... like your friend -" "Emiko?" I said, as he hesitated. "Emiko. That's right - I must remember. It's time I went and had a word with dear little Emi-chan. Maybe she is a girl I ought to invite more often." I had to go. I could see my driver making impatient gestures at me from near the door. I stood on tiptoe and kissed Roido-san good-bye. "Do be careful," I said again. He held me lightly: one hand was softly caressing my bottom while the other stroked my right breast. "When did _you_ start, Megumi?" he asked. "Well, the first time ... the first that mattered," I said, "I was seventeen." The nails of the hand stroking my bottom began to tickle me delightfully. "And your first whipping?" "That was at seventeen too." It wasn't quite true, as you who have read my story will know; but the truth was private. And too complicated to explain quickly. "Any regrets?" "Only that I didn't start a lot earlier." "Well, there you are, you see." == As I climbed into my lover's car I tossed my coat into the back and snuggled down into the front seat, enjoying the sexy feeling of leather against my nakedness. I thought again of Emi, wondering whether Lloyd had found her and what she was doing with him now. Whatever it was, I hoped it was sexy and nice. There had been something very moving about her sudden transition to sexuality, her surrender to her overwhelming desire to display her nakedness and give herself to pleasures she had so far only dreamt of. She reminded me of myself at her age, discovering my exhibitionism and my insatiable sexuality ... but was she really like me? I must be careful not to assume so. Hardly any other drivers noticed my near nudity, though at one traffic-light a truck drew up to our left and I saw the driver grinning down at me from his vantage-point. I wriggled in my seat and stroked my naked breasts and pussy for him with my gloved hands - then gave him a friendly wave as the lights went green. Outside my apartment block we parked for a while so I could thank my driver: he moved into the passenger seat and I straddled his lap, enjoying his vigorous thrusts into my pussy as he took control, grasping my tightly bound waist and moving my cunt up and down his shaft as he pleased. Of course I would have done it willingly for nothing at the party if he had asked me, but I wanted him to know I appreciated his kindness in driving me home. It took him a long time to come at the end of such a strenuous evening, but he managed it at last, having given me three enjoyable orgasms in the process. As I waved him good-bye from outside the entrance, I wondered why I felt chilly, then remembered I had left my coat on his back seat. Well, he knew where I lived, and now he also knew he would be thanked prettily if he took the trouble to return it. I felt glad I had suggested that last fuck. I punched our private access code into the keypad and the front door of the block hummed open. There were unlikely to be people around at this time, but if anyone saw me in my provocative party costume in the elevator or corridors there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Knowing that we would often not want to bother with handbags on our evening expeditions, Sammy and I had devised a hiding-place for a spare key to our apartment in one of the electrical relay boxes in the corridor outside. I was just about to open it when I heard the doors of the other elevator open, and then male footsteps coming quickly in my direction. I froze, for once in my life completely unable to decide what to do. I didn't want a stranger to see where we hid our key, but without the key I couldn't escape into the apartment. I stood rigid near the door, turned in panic towards the approaching footsteps. And then there was no time to decide anyway. "Hello! Can I do anything for you?" said a voice in poor Japanese. I looked up and caught a glimpse of a _gaijin_ man, fair hair, well-built, wearing jacket, trousers and open-neck shirt, before modestly dropping my gaze. "Oh, no, it's all right," I stammered, "it's just that ... I don't have my key ... and I don't think my room-mate's home yet ..." The last bit was rather a fib, but it was quite possible that Sammy was out late, still enjoying her special evening. "Perhaps I can help ..." "Oh, no," I said once more. I glanced at his face again, then lowered my eyes, more slowly this time. There was a promising bulge at the front of his trousers, thickening as he took in my tantalising public nudity. Perhaps my evening wasn't over yet either. I said nothing: the next move was up to him. "Wouldn't you like to come to my apartment and wait there? You can't stay here like this. Anyone might come." "Oh," I said hurriedly, fluttering my hands as if I had only just remembered my nakedness, "you mustn't think I usually ... like this ... It's just that I've been to a party." "I wish I'd been invited." I smiled and bowed slightly to acknowledge the compliment. "And the man who brought me home ... he's left now ... and I forgot my coat in his car." That was true so far as it went, and wasn't quite saying my key was in the coat. "Just down here," he said, talking me by the arm as we walked together past three or four doors and round a turn in the corridor. Inside his front door there was a tiny hallway where he kicked off his shoes. I left my long boots on - they weren't outdoor footwear but part of my party outfit. The sitting-room was like ours with similar furniture: obviously he too had hired it from the letting company. It was rather bare, with no books or pictures - just a few newspapers and magazines on the coffee-table. One was the Japanese edition of _Playboy_, open at a feature spread in which a model I knew slightly - though I thought her enhanced breasts rather vulgar - was coyly showing off her nudity. "You like Japanese girls?" I said with a touch of flirtatiousness, indicating the magazine. We were still standing close together. "Oh, _yes_!” he said enthusiastically; then, remembering to be polite, "do sit down ... can I get you anything?" "“What I'd really like," I said, "I know it's an awful nuisance ... but if I could use your bathroom - I feel so untidy from the party and I was looking forward to taking a shower when I got home ..." "Of course!" he said. "If you don't mind using mine ... I have only the one." Without waiting for an answer he put his arm round my waist and led me out of the living-room. We crossed a tiny corridor and entered his bedroom. Again, it was similar to mine or Sammy's though with little personal about it. I wriggled tentatively against him as I looked longingly at the bed, and felt his arm tighten round my corseted waist. I was about to suggest that the shower could wait, but he spoke before I could find the words. "Over there," he said, indicating the door to the bathroom. "Oh, just a moment ..." He let go of me, crossed the room and opened a closet from which he produced a clean bath-towel. "Here. Please take your time. Er, is there anything else I can do for you?" "Well, yes," I said with some confusion, "could you please help me undo my corset? It's a little difficult ... and _rather_ tight ..." He dropped the towel on a chair by the bathroom door. We stood close together as his fingers undid the straps and buckles down the front of my corset. It wasn't really that hard to manage but he pretended it was and took his time. At last it fell away and I stood before him naked apart from my gloves and long boots. "Thank you," I breathed. "I can tell you've done that before ..." We were standing so close, our lips almost touching, that in another moment we would have been kissing passionately, neither of us knowing who had initiated it. But I stepped back and made for the bathroom. He handed me the towel and I entered, waving shyly at him before closing the door. I left the corset where it lay. I took my time in the shower, carefully washing away all traces of the lovers I had had that evening - so far. When I was as dry as I could make myself with the big fluffy towel I found some talcum powder in the bathroom closet and with its help soon had my boots and gloves on again, as tight and smooth as they could be. Before leaving the bedroom I had a quick look at his belongings: there were jackets and slacks, and a couple of suits, in the closet and the usual piles of shirts and underwear in the drawers. It all seemed very impersonal: it told me very little about the sort of man he was, or his likes and dislikes. But he had said he liked us Japanese girls, and he must by now have discovered our special tastes. Then in one of the drawers I found what I was hoping for: the instruments with which he pleasured his girls. There were a couple of slender canes: I took one out and made it sing through the air a few times, imagining it kissing my delicate flesh. Beside them was a broad paddle fixed to the end of a riding-crop, with holes in the blade to reduce air resistance and enable it to strike harder. There were no nipple-clamps or dildos - perhaps his girls brought their own, producing them shyly from their handbags - but there were coils of rope, some gags and blindfolds and a pair of big whips. One was in thick, polished, plaited leather which creaked delightfully as it bent to and fro: a whip for specialists to use on experienced girls. The other was a cat-o'-nine-tails. Since cats are my great love I pulled it out of the drawer to examine it. Instead of the slim leather lashes to which I am accustomed, this had long tails in thin whipcord, some of them knotted, protruding from a long, thick, heavily ridged handle. I shook the lashes out and let them dangle on the floor. They seemed very long: twisting them loosely together I wound them experimentally round my hips. If the man whipping me stood fairly close these lashes could encircle me two or even three times. I could not imagine anything lovelier. How lucky his girls were! All I had to do was persuade him to pleasure me like that too. He stood when I returned to the living-room, then sat beside me as I took the corner of the sofa and crossed my legs. He had taken off his jacket and shirt while waiting for me: his bare chest and arms were broad and muscular and I felt myself tingling at the thought of submitting helplessly to such strength. His right arm was soon round my waist, and we kissed. It was all the better for having waited. His other hand was caressing my breasts, teasing the nipples into full erection. We broke apart and I lay back in the sofa, my lips a little open, waiting to see what would happen next. "I'm so glad we met," he said. "What's your name?" "I ... er ..." I put my arm round his bare shoulders and pulled him down onto my mouth again. Somehow I don't like sharing personal details with my lovers until I know we are going to be together for a while. I have come to find complete physical intimacy with someone anonymous rather arousing. To start with at least a new man is just a cock to fuck me and a pair of hands to stroke and whip me. But it's a bit difficult to explain. As we broke apart again, I said: "Tell me all the things you most like doing to girls." "No, you tell me the things you like, and I'm sure they'll be my favourites too. And if they're not, you can teach me!" "Well," I said, conceding, "I adore being fucked, of course." During the last kiss I had uncrossed my legs and left them slightly apart. Taking the hint, the fingers of his left hand were now lightly exploring my pussy, the middle finger delicately probing the entrance to my cunt. "Good, because I shall adore fucking you." He paused, uncertain how to proceed. "All three holes?" he asked at last. "Of _course_!" I replied. "I can never decide which is the best." "Nor can I!" He laughed. "What else do you like?" I looked away and pretended to be shy. I pulled him down onto me again, and whispered just before our lips met: "You enjoy whipping your girls?" "I love it," he said when he could speak again, "but only when the girl loves it too. Do you?" "Oh, _yes_!" I said, avoiding his eyes and making myself blush. "It's the best thing there is," I went on shyly. "Even better than fucking, really." "Well, I wouldn't say that, but it is lovely to tie a girl up and whip her while she screams and begs for mercy. Not really meaning it, of course." "Well, why don't you do it to me, and see if you can make _me_ scream and beg?" I enquired reasonably, scrambling up out of the sofa. "But first, take your trousers off too. I want to see what I'm getting!" It was a beautifully thick and veined cock, just what I had been dreaming of ever since I saw the first hint of it through his clothes out in the corridor. My evening was certainly not yet over! The best was still to come. I stood beside him and he held my bottom, his fingertips lightly brushing my crack and one tapping gently on the entrance to my arsehole. I wriggled coquettishly against it, and then moved away. "Whipping first," I whispered, as he supported me into the bedroom. "Lots and _lots_ of whipping. Then all the other things." He took me to the drawer I had already discovered. "Look," he said: "they are waiting for you. Which do you like best?" "May I really choose?" "Of course." "Then, please - the cat. It's always been my favourite." He pulled it from the drawer, its long whipcord lashes dangling to the floor just as they had done when I briefly held it, while I stood submissively at the foot of the bed. "Shall I bind you, or would you rather be free?" "Oh, bind me, of _course_ - it's so much more exciting!" "Doesn't it frighten you, being completely helpless in the power of a strange man?" "Of course it frightens me - that's one of the things that make it so exciting." He looped the cat's lashes together and dropped the instrument on the bed, then picked up my corset from where I had left it. "Shall we start with this? It looked so pretty on you earlier." "Yes, please. Make it as tight as you can." So I stood in front of him while his strong fingers again played with the straps and buckles. When he had finished I begged him to tighten them further, till at last I had the lovely breathless feeling that comes from a really constricting corset and which so increases a girl's sexual pleasure. And his, too: I knew that I looked even more desirable with my waist as tiny as it could be and contrasting with the full curves of my breasts and bottom. He fetched the ropes from the drawer and looked at me thoughtfully. Then he started by tying my legs together round my upper thighs, either side of my knees and round my ankles. It was difficult to balance like that on the high pointed heels of my boots but I managed it. "Put your hands behind your back." With the other rope he began to tie my arms together. The first loop, just below my shoulders, he tied quite loosely and I had to beg him to tighten it, again and again, assuring him I really meant it, till my shoulders were bent right back, the pain exciting me and the position making my breasts jut proudly forward. Then he tied the rest of my arms, matching what he had done to my legs with tight bonds above and below my elbows and round my wrists. There was quite a length of rope left. There was a strong hook in the ceiling above my head, and after a couple of false tries he was able to loop the rope over it. "That was installed by the people who had the apartment before me," he said. "They obviously shared my tastes." I said nothing, keeping my strength for the ordeal I knew was to follow. He pulled the rope through the hook. With my arms tightly bound behind my back I was forced to lean forward as I was pulled upwards, until I was balancing on the tips of my toes with my body horizontal. When he had pulled me as tautly as possible he tied the loose end of the rope and walked round to examine his handiwork. That brought his erect cock quite close to my mouth. I licked my lips and looked up at him as best I could. There were already tears in my eyes. "Won't you let me ... won't you come in my mouth?" I gasped. "I'd love to, but later. You said it yourself: 'whipping first'!" "Thank you," I murmured. "Lots and _lots_ of whipping ... remember?" "I remember. You'll soon wish you hadn't reminded me ... I wonder if I should gag you. This place isn't sound-proof and someone might hear you scream." "I promise I won't scream." "I promise you won't be able to help it." He didn't know me yet. I was proud of my courage under the lash. Only my adored Mr Otani, supreme artist with the whip, could force me to scream against my will. Other lovers were astonished at my endurance and determined silence, which of course inspired them to the even greater feats of cruelty I so longed for. "If I scream," I said, "you may stop. But I won't." "We'll see." At last the long strings of whipcord were withdrawn from the bed, and after a few practice strokes began to encircle my hips and thighs with their heavenly embrace. I had been beaten with thin whips before, of course, but never nine at once. The little knots stung me with delightful randomness as a beautiful counterpoint to the long-drawn kisses of the cords. I stammered my thanks and begged my lover not to stop, to whip me harder and harder - always in a low voice that could not be mistaken for the beginnings of a scream. I lost count after about twenty strokes, and was floating in a private world of bliss and lust when at last the cat stopped making love to me. He came round to stand in front of my face. "I can't wait any longer. Suck me!" I lifted my head and opened my mouth. Swiftly the thick tube of meat entered me, forcing its way down my throat. He was ready, and without my hands I could not hold back his orgasm by squeezing the root of his cock; but I gave him the best fuck I could, switching between luscious sweeps of my tongue across the sensitive underside and teasing investigations of the thick veins and unexpected bumps and crannies. At last he pulled out of my throat and came copiously in my mouth. When he finally left me I swallowed the cum greedily and thanked him as best I could from my position facing the floor. Again I felt something hard pressing against my lips. I could hardly believe that he was ready for me again so soon, and opened my eyes to see the ridged handle of the cat against my face. "Lick it. Kiss it," he ordered. Guessing what was to come, I covered the beautiful thing with as much saliva as I could, relishing the faint taste of the sweat from his hand. Then, as I had hoped, he moved behind me and I felt the wet handle pushing its way into my arse. Gasping with pleasure, I opened to receive it, each ridge bringing me almost to orgasm as the muscles of my anus embraced it. At last it was fully inside me. The long lashes flowed down behind me onto the floor. I could hear them rustle as the involuntary spasms of my anal muscles jerked the handle of the whip upwards and then released it again, just like a little pony frisking its tail ... how could I have said, I wondered, as the words came faintly back to my memory, that I did not know which of my three holes gave me the most pleasure? There was nothing to compare with this ecstasy, nor ever could be! "Very pretty," I heard him say. "But I think we can do better." I felt my hair being pulled as he tied a rope round it and then fixed the other end to the top of my corset, pulling it tight as my head was helplessly lifted. Another short pause; then his hands came into view again, holding a narrow stick with a ring and a leather thong at each end. Obediently I opened my mouth and received the stick, which was held firmly in place by tying the thongs to the rope suspending me from the ceiling hook. "Yes," I heard my lover say, "you make a very pretty little pony."[7] Suddenly a red flash penetrated my closed eyelids - and then another. If anything could add to my joy, it was the realisation that my exquisitely helpless posture was being recorded on film. Later, when he visited Sammy and me and brought me copies of the photos he had taken, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of what he had made from me - my arms and legs tightly bound, my body parallel with the floor, my head up with its bit and reins visible, and the long strands of the cat rising from my arse and falling gracefully to the carpet like the tail of a little horse. Of course he posted the pictures on the internet and they were soon picked up by sites which specialised in sexy oriental beauty - individuals did not have their own websites in those days. They are still among the most frequently downloaded pictures ever taken of me; but hardly anyone who has enjoyed looking at them knows who is the ecstatic girl trembling on the brink of orgasm. He said nothing. I heard rather than saw him retreat to the bathroom. He emerged only to switch off the lights, and with a grunted "Good night" he lay on the bed and prepared to sleep. Was this wonderful man really going to leave me hanging there in my bonds all night long? The thought of it thrilled me: I had hardly known a lover so sensitive to my sexual needs. The pain in my shoulders and the luxurious warmth of my bottom, still wriggling against the thick ridged shaft pushed so far up my arse, merged into a delicious helplessness which I wished could last for ever. Oh, I never wanted to be freed from this burning ecstasy he had created for me! But it could not last. I heard him moving restlessly on the bed, and before long a bedside light came on. He was standing before me again. "I need you," he said briefly. I was untied from the ceiling hook and my arms and legs were freed from the ropes. As I stood flexing my stiff muscles, he said simply, "Strip." He watched, the erection between his legs thickening and strengthening, as I slowly removed first my boots and my gloves, and then with his help the exquisitely painful corset. "Now I shall gag you," he said when at last I was naked. "Not to stop you screaming, just because you will look nice like that." I willingly took the ball-gag into my mouth and stood while he fastened the leather straps. The harness was complicated: two horizontal straps, then two others joined above my nose and passing over the top of my head. He buckled the straps together firmly behind my head, forcing the ball-gag deep into my mouth. It felt wonderful to be so tightly constrained - I could go on wearing this harness for ever, I thought. On his instructions I lay on the bed, my knees tucked under me and my bottom as high as I could raise it. Given the obvious urgency of his desire, I naturally expected I was about to be fucked - in one hole or the other. But suddenly a spasm of pain struck my bottom like a flame. It took several repetitions before I understood what was happening to me. This was not the tender love of the cat which I had enjoyed earlier: it was the screeching attack of the paddle attached to a riding-crop which I had noticed in his collection of instruments. Nonetheless I relished it. The fierce punishment meshed with my desire; and bright red-and-black visions began to fill my mind as I grunted my happiness and thanks through my gag into the pillows and tried to push my bottom back into the whirl of agonising pleasure it was receiving. Again, I have no idea how many strokes I received; and again it was his mounting desire which determined how long my new experience lasted. The beating stopped, and the bed heaved behind me. He began by thrusting his erection into my dripping cunt, soaking it in my bubbling juices. Quickly I opened my legs further to give him the fullest access. Then he pulled out and I felt the familiar sensation of perfect fullness as he began to push powerfully into my arse. My red-hot bottom, every nerve at the height of receptivity, welcomed his cock with joy, my anal muscles trying to pull it ever deeper inwards, while my mouth, earlier recipient of its bounty, tried to express my happiness and desire. At last I felt that extra fullness which precedes a lover's ejaculation, and with cries of happiness from us both it was over. His erection enjoyed its final spasm, shrank and withdrew. When at last I had come down from the heights, I slipped off the bed and in the bathroom removed my gag and wiped my bottom. I returned to find the lights off and my lover sprawled fast asleep on the bed. == It was still dark when I woke a few hours later. I felt cold: neither of us had bothered to slip between the sheets and we had been sleeping naked without anything to cover us. I could just make him out in the lights from the street outside, still deeply asleep as he lay sprawled where I had last seen him. I thought for a while. If I stayed where I was I could expect a glorious morning of whipping and fucking. But Sammy would be worrying about me; and after a few hours we would begin to tire of each other. He knew where I lived, and if I left him unsatisfied I could be fairly sure that he would come looking for me. Then Sammy and I could make use of him together: it occurred to me that I could hardly deny her her chance with a man who had come so splendidly in my mouth. I reached a decision, and slid as quietly as possible off the bed. I collected the items of my party outfit from where they lay scattered on the floor, and took the ball-gag as a souvenir. For a moment I was tempted by the whipcord cat-o'-nine-tails too, but it was too expensive to take - and probably too much loved by his other girls. Anyway, I reflected, a girl like me doesn't need equipment like that: she just needs plenty of lovers who have it and know how to use it. I tip-toed through the apartment and peered naked out of the front door. There was no one to be seen. Leaving the door open I ventured as far as the turn in the corridor and looked round it: still no one. I returned and closed the door behind me with just the slightest click, made it safely to the hiding place of our apartment's key and had vanished indoors a few moments later. All seemed normal when I let myself in, though Sammy had left me our secret sign - a cushion turned upside-down in the living-room - that she had brought a lover home for the night. In fact the little whimpers of pleasure I could hear through her closed bedroom door had already told me that. I was tempted to join them, but reminded myself we had agreed that breakfast was the time for sharing and trying out each other's lovers, unless specially invited earlier. In my own room I slid naked between the crisp sheets, my body warm and relaxed but agreeably tired from all the exercise I had given it. I was asleep almost before I had slipped my fingers into their usual place in my pussy. Sammy's pick-up turned out to be a Korean, thick and squat but very virile. I must warn her about Koreans, I thought - she doesn't know them the way we do. He said almost nothing during our customary nude breakfast, and when it was over dragged Sammy back to bed with just a grunt. They left the door open, so I followed them. Sammy was lying between his legs, ecstatically slurping away at his prick, while he gazed impassively at the ceiling. There didn't seem to be room for me but when he saw me he grabbed me by the wrist and pointed at his groin. So Sammy and I sucked and licked his erection together. When he was close to coming he began to take more interest in what we were doing, and at last sprayed his cum copiously over our faces while we competed to get as much as we could into our mouths. It tasted harsh and garlicky. "Do be careful with Koreans, Sammy," I said once he had gone. "They have great sexual stamina but they're sometimes brutal, and they love humiliating women. Did he treat you roughly?" "Oh, yes!" said Sammy with a blissful smile on her face. "He made me do some _wonderfully_ disgusting things." FOOTNOTE [7] This was my first experience as a pony girl. Of course there are variants on this charming form of bondage: a pair of girls can be dressed in a variety of leather straps and high-heeled boots, and set to pull a light cart, their bottoms delightfully whipped as they run, little bells tinkling prettily as they dangle from the rings piercing their breasts. But I like best the motionless pose, with harness, a little saddle and a long tail held firmly in place by my arse muscles. It feels wonderful and is very arousing to spectators, who can of course mount you in various enjoyable ways. Do try it, or get one of your lovers to dress you as a pony and show you off to his friends. [Next in Part 13: Chapter XIII: The Dungeon Scene] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams