ALL I EVER WANTED 21 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 02: ALL I EVER WANTED BY MEGUMI KATO AND SAMANTHA WEST CHAPTER XXI Honeymoon Island It wasn't quite a desert island, though it had palm-trees and a white sand beach, and was surrounded by a coral reef and a blue-green sea. There were a dozen or so chalets discreetly out of sight of each other, and a big central open-air dining area, where tables for two were arranged round a little dance-floor and a Filipino band played a simple version of Latin American music. Nearby was the pool and a play area, also in the open, for the group sessions which, we were promised, often developed spontaneously among the guests. The Manager greeted us in the lobby, supported by a group of his staff - all local young men and girls from the island or nearby. This was clearly a standard ceremony for new arrivals. The men wore long trousers but their muscular chests and arms were bare. I couldn't resist a little gasp of excitement when I saw that each held a long whip of plaited leather, the end of the lash looped on the ground. It was a clear hint that their services were available to any female guest whose regular partner was too occupied elsewhere to give her satisfaction. Raising my eyes to their smiling faces I saw that they were looking forward to being summoned to pleasure me. I controlled myself and walked past them proudly with my chin up; but I knew I wanted it and they knew it too. The girls were wearing a charming miniskirted housemaid's uniform, and it was obvious that their duties included more than making beds and cleaning rooms. Mr Otani was looking them over with interest and enjoying their smiles and curtseys. Surely he would concentrate on me alone, tonight of all nights? But there was something rather exciting in the thought of being helplessly tied, forced to watch my husband enjoying the pretty maids - and then receiving my reward as he summoned the team of strong young men to whip me to orgasm for his pleasure ... Or, another idea: perhaps I could secretly borrow one of the maids' uniforms and join in - and see how long it took Mr Otani to recognise me in the group. As he showed us round, the Manager pointed out how whipping-posts and -frames had been discreetly built into each chalet and among the palm-trees on each private beach. He whispered to Mr Otani - perhaps not realising that I understood English - reminding him that the staff were instructed to pay no attention to any screams they might overhear. Two of the charming maids turned down the bed and stayed to help me unpack, cooing and giggling over the pretty, sexy outfits in my trousseau and running the lashes of my whips through their fingers - rather longingly, I thought - before coiling them neatly beside my other special items in the drawers of the bedside table. When at last they had finished, reminding us as they left that dinner was already being served, I slipped out of my jacket and peeled off my hot-pants: standing in nothing but long gloves and thigh-boots, the pretty gold chains anchored in my breasts and belt tinkling delightfully, I took up my favourite submissive posture so that my new master could give me a taste - just a _tiny_ taste - of the pure white bridal cat-o'-nine-tails with thin, soft, tightly knotted leather lashes which I had prepared specially for our honeymoon. The knots left, as I had hoped, delicious little points of pain among the gentle tingling of my arse and thighs, and my heart was beating fast at the thought that later I would be tied helplessly between the trees, submitting fully to the new whip's embrace as the pleasant evening breeze whispered softly over my skin. At last I took off everything I was still wearing, including my chains. My husband stood watching me with an amused smile as I tried to decide what to wear. Perhaps I should ask his permission to remain as I was for the evening - clothing, the discreet brochure had informed us, was optional at all times throughout the resort, and what could be more appropriate for a bride on her wedding-night than nudity? But dinner was a time for showing off my new wardrobe, I thought. Matsumoto-san and I had worked hard on my honeymoon trousseau, but we had not been able to agree on what I should wear on my wedding night. She had designed me a charmingly romantic little dress for our first evening together, but I had a taste for something more provocative. On my instructions the little maids, wide-eyed with excitement, had laid both out on the bed for me. My choice was just a little g-string in soft white leather with a matching collar. I buckled them snugly round my hips and my throat, and posed and flirted and stroked myself in the long mirror; I balanced sexily on the slender high-heels of the white evening shoes I had bought to go with them, their curved soles bound to my feet only by narrow straps across my toes and round my ankles. I pinned a little white veil to my hair: not the long one I had worn with my western dress at the reception - that had gone back to the hire company - but just a little transparent decoration to remind myself, and everyone else, that this was my bridal night. I tried to guess what effect this teasing enhancement of my nakedness was having on my new husband, but he gave me no clues. Finally I clipped the dog-lead into the ring in my collar, picked up the slender cane which formed part of the outfit - long, whippy and sheathed in white leather, perfect for a bride submitting to her new master - and with a deep bow handed them both to my husband. "Please whip me with this whenever I am disobedient," I said. And when I am obedient too, I added silently. To my surprise he did not accept them. "No, let's keep that for tomorrow night. I shall enjoy showing you off then, and letting everyone see how on our wedding-night I turned my innocent bride into my slave." "Oh, you made me that ages ago ..." I said softly, gazing at his face and holding out the cane in the hope that he might still choose to use it on me. "No, wear something more innocent and virginal tonight ... Not too innocent, of course, but let's at least pretend that this is our first night together." So Matsumoto-san had been right, as usual. I undressed again quickly. Her special wedding-night dress was in creamy, pale ivory silk - exactly the same shade as my skin - and I felt the slinky material caress my now naked body as I slipped it on. It was little more than a skirt, and felt as if it weighed nothing; leaving my back and my breasts uncovered, it was suspended only by little gold hooks from the rings which pierced my erect nipples. There was a gold band round the waistline and the wide, short skirt was flirty, swishing deliciously round my naked bottom. My long hair hung loose, tickling my bare back delightfully, decorated only by a flower chosen from those the maids had scattered over my bridal bed. I changed to matching high-heeled gold sandals and wore otherwise, because I knew they excited him, only little gold gloves up to my wrists. If anything, I felt even more naked than I had done in the g-string and collar, but demurely now rather than provocatively. I could feel something of the delighted apprehension which thrills through an innocent bride as she prepares to surrender herself to the frightening unknown desires of her new master. He took me in his arms and kissed me, his left hand lifting my skirt and caressing my nakedness. "No panties?" he asked with mock seriousness. "Please, Master, what are panties?" I asked innocently. He kissed me again, and I wriggled voluptuously against his crotch. "What a slut I married!" he said at last. "M'm! Punish me for it?" I suggested hopefully. "Later." I hoped Matsumoto-san would feel I was getting it right. The other guests looked at me approvingly as we entered the lighted dining area, some of the men - and women too, perhaps - hoping no doubt that, once the first excitement of the honeymoon had worn off, I would want to make myself available to others. I also liked what I saw: good-looking, well cared-for, still young and sexually active people - rich, too, if they could afford to stay on this island. It was customary for newcomers to introduce themselves, so as we entered the band played a flourish and the resort's Manager announced our names. We stepped onto the dance floor and my husband took the microphone he offered us. "We are here on our honeymoon," he said. There was polite applause, and I tried to look suitably shy and virginal. "Just married. In fact, because of the date-line, we actually got married tomorrow." The other guests laughed politely, some clearly having difficulty working this out. "I'm an American, but I am Chairman of a Japanese company called the Marucho Film Company. I also have a company of my own which distributes videos in the western United States. My wife Megumi and I look forward to getting to know you all better, but I'm sure you'll understand if we want to be alone together, some of the time at least." He handed the microphone to me. In careful Japanese English I said: "My name used to be Megumi Kato, and that's still my professional name. If your interests include Japanese pornography, you may have seen Marucho's products, and if so then you've seen me, because I'm in lots of them - doing lots of naughty things, I'm afraid." I looked down in mock embarrassment, and there was sympathetic laughter from the audience. "I'm nineteen years old, and I've been acting for Marucho since the day I was eighteen - which is the minimum legal age in Japan for acting in sex films. And my husband wants me to continue with my career after marriage. So I hope you'll see much more of me - doing many more naughty things." There was more laughter and applause. Mr Otani took back the microphone and added, "Megumi is one of Marucho's most important assets, and one of the reasons I married her was to keep her in the company. But there were other reasons too, of course, as perhaps you can see." I pretended to be indignant. Someone called from the darkness around us, "Tell us about your wedding present, Megumi!" My husband handed the microphone back to me, and I said girlishly, "Oh, that was so lovely! He gave me these pretty rings." The fingers of my free hand were already touching them, twisting them, showing them off. "And that's not all! He cut the holes himself and fitted them. Oh, he hurt me so wonderfully, and I've never loved him so much as in that moment." There was applause. The Manager took the microphone from me and put it back on its stand. Then he showed us to our table. A group of the bare-chested young men came to take our order, smiling confidentially at me as if I had already arranged a date with them and their whips. I looked quickly towards Mr Otani: he was preoccupied with the wine list. "Not tonight," I whispered to the leader. "Maybe later." We ate and drank very little that first evening: we were too excited. We were to have two whole weeks to ourselves on the island, after which Sammy would be with us for a further week: I hoped she would find enough to keep her amused. For my pleasure she would join us in bed sometimes, but would probably find the evenings of group sex with the other guests more to her liking. The special services on offer from the resort's male staff were another pleasure to look forward to - and for some reason I suddenly thought of my old school-friend Kimiko. How grown-up she had looked at the wedding reception. Surely she had stayed on and enjoyed - well, whatever happened after our departure. Was she ready now for the whip, I wondered? When we were back in Tokyo, I would ask Mr Otani to teach her. They would both enjoy it so much! I visualised her prepared for him, lightly bound, the ropes biting gently into her plump nakedness, frightened - like the virginal bride I was tonight pretending to be - of what was to come, but knowing she secretly longed for it and hearing a deeper instinct assure her that her longing was natural and right. After we had finished our meal we danced for a while. It was nice to torment ourselves by postponing the pleasures of the night. I nestled against my new master's shoulder and relished the feel of his right hand exploring my naked back while his left felt my bottom through the soft cloth of my skirt. I let out little murmurs of pleasure as his fingers found the spots already stimulated by the knotted cat. The music ended. As we began to leave the dance floor a woman who had been dancing near us spoke to me. "My dear, I know it's a personal question, but did you _enjoy_ having those rings put in your breasts?" "Yes," I said simply. "It hurt terribly. But you see, my husband did it to me, because he loves me; and I begged him to do it, because I love him. So it was wonderful too." She looked at Mr Otani with a mixture of astonishment and respect. I hugged his arm, and with my other hand began to twist one of the rings round and round, my excitement rising as I remembered how it had felt. The little diamond chips tickled the inside of the hole as they passed through. "We both thought," I went on, "that it would be so much nicer than an ordinary wedding-ring. And two, of course, rather than one." "Yes, indeed," she said, "they look delightful on you. I hope you both enjoy your stay here." "Thank you," said my husband, "I'm sure we shall." Servants lit us discreetly along the dark paths to our chalet, lingered for a moment in case we required their services; and then at last we were alone together. Here I could scream to my heart's content, begging my master to whip me more and more cruelly and fuck me any way he fancied: no one would hear me, or think anything of it if they did. I could feel the soft skin of my arse and thighs quivering in excited expectation. I stepped out of the high-heeled sandals: now was the moment to enjoy the perverse pleasure of little, tightly-laced boots, as worn by knowing Victorian sluts all those years ago. By now I had learnt to love their sadistic constriction. Matsumoto-san had provided a special bridal pair in soft white leather, their pretty heels almost too high to manage. I could tell that, without consulting me, she had had them made just a little tighter than the ones I had used for practice. Mr Otani at once knelt before me and pulled the laces exquisitely tight round my feet and up my calves. "Very pretty," he said approvingly as I danced round the room on my shapely little feet. "Not too tight, are they?" "Oh, _no_!" I said. "Don't they hurt?" "Oh, yes!" I said. "They hurt! They're _beautiful_!" "Yes, they are. Pain and beauty working together. You must wear them for me a lot. I think I'd like to kiss those little boots. Come over them." I giggled. Unbidden, a scene presented itself to my mind: a handsome lover lying over me sucking my pussy while I sucked his cock, Mr Otani grovelling on the carpet worshipping my feet ... "Of course," I said. "I'm glad they excite you as much as they do me." Now it was time to be fully nude for my new Master. I unhooked my pretty new dress from the rings piercing my shining, naked breasts and let it flutter to the floor. I tossed the gold gloves to join it, and clipped a broad gold slave bangle round my left upper arm. "I never want to cover my breasts again," I said. "Never, ever. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I want everyone to see what you did to me and how lovely it looks." He laughed, and kissed me. Then he too undressed and stood naked before me, his cock gradually swelling into an erection as he looked at me. I knelt, and took it gently in my hands. "I am your faithful and obedient slave - now and for ever," I said. "It will be my pleasure to do whatever you instruct me to do. I am yours to use in any way you wish. Whatever pain or pleasure you inflict on me it will be my joy to accept. I exist only to be fucked and whipped, without stopping for a moment, by you or by anyone you instruct me to give myself to. That is what I live for." I kissed the tip of his cock, enjoying the salt taste of the pre-cum beginning to drip from it. I looked anxiously up at his face, and was reassured by what I saw. I drew the beautiful length of his erection into my mouth - and so we consummated our marriage. Now, I thought, he can tie me firmly to the shackles discreetly hidden in the chalet's pillars, in front of the open window, my body bathed in the night air and trembling under his whip. I could hear the ripples falling on the shore: the beach too was ours to do what we liked with. We could wander there naked and fuck under the stars. He could tie me between the palm-trees and whip me while the whole world watched and listened. At the pool tomorrow, nude or perhaps with just a coy g-string between my legs, my new wedding-rings glittering in my breasts, I could proudly show off the first marks of his love and of my submission. "Let's go down to the beach," I whispered to him. "Fuck me there. In my cunt. In my mouth. In my arse. Then tie me up and give me the lovely new cat. Whip me, darling, oh how I want you to whip me!" I picked it up from the bed and pressed it into his right hand. "I'm afraid those thin lashes will mark you." "Oh, darling, don't you understand how proud I'll be tomorrow, when everyone sees what my wonderful, cruel husband did to his poor, innocent little bride on her wedding-night? Of _course_ you must mark me! Don't you know you married a slut who deserves it and longs for it?" "What do you deserve, my beautiful slut? A hundred lashes for every man you've ever given yourself to?" "That should see us through our fortnight - and with plenty to spare. I'm a slut, remember? Any man who wants me can have me. I promise I'll always give you good reason to punish me." "Do I have to have a reason?" "No, of course not, darling! If it pleases you more I'll be innocent and beg you not to hurt me when I've done nothing wrong." "Yes, that would be nice for a wedding-night." We stood together, he holding the cat by its handle as I ran my fingers through its slim, white, knotted lashes. Suddenly he pointed at the floor. "Kiss the whip, slave," he commanded. Quickly I knelt and took the beautiful lashes in my hands as they dangled loosely on the floor. Reverently I kissed them one by one, begging them silently to bring me to the height of orgasmic agony. For ever and ever. "Master, teach your slave how to please you. Use her - be cruel to her," I said shyly in a little-girl voice - and then, abandoning my virginal pretence, "Do you know what I've brought for you to use on me tomorrow?" "What?" "The cat with the sweet little metal points hidden in the lashes. I borrowed it from the studio. I want to feel it so much! Can you imagine the pain, and how I'll scream? Or how desirable I'll look when you've marked me with it? Oh, my dear master, please torture me - now and for ever!" I was standing again, my face buried in his chest. "Oh, Megumi darling -" "Take me somewhere where everyone can hear, and whip me till I beg for mercy." "Or till I do!" He laughed. "I've never heard _you_ beg for mercy. What does it mean when you do? That you want me to stop?" I kissed him. "Silly! It means I want you to whip me even harder. Slow and hard - you promised, remember? Don't let me come too soon. Take me up slowly, slowly - make me wait for it! I want to scream with agony all night and all day for ever and ever, longing for my climax and never quite being allowed to reach it. Is that good enough for you? Don't you dare stop! Not ever!" "Megumi," my master said seriously, "don't you think that what you _really_ want is to be whipped, and that fucking is much less important to you?" "Of _course_ not!" I said hotly. "I _adore_ having a cock inside me! You know I do." But even as I denied it, I knew it was true. We ran hand in hand, slave and master, from the chalet down to the beach, naked except for my deliciously tormenting high-heeled boots and my gold slave bangle. And my pretty rings, of course. They were mine for ever. Thanks to them, and him, I could never be completely nude again: I would always have to show off their glittering enhancements to my naked beauty. And there would be more decorations to come, burning their way white-hot into my eager flesh as cameras recorded the operation for the pleasure of my fans. He had promised. In his free hand my loving master was carrying things I couldn't quite see in the darkness. But I knew what they were. My sensitive skin was already thrilling in expectation of their loving caress. I hoped he had remembered my new nipple-clamps: I longed to feel his strong fingers screw them to the ultimate degree of pain, the clever needles lancing white-hot into my breasts while I hung helpless on the edge of orgasm. Our part of the beach faced east. Against the luminosity of the sea I could just make out ropes and chains hanging from two palm-trees conveniently close together. I stopped between them, trying not to let it seem deliberate. "Scream for me?" he said softly. "Make me," I replied. I would let him work for it, of course, but not for long. On our wedding-night he would give me all I wanted. He would torture me throughout the night, while I screamed and begged for more, till the Sun Goddess showed her face above the morning horizon, and smiled at her daughter's bliss as she hung there in her ecstatic agony ... That night and every night, hour after hour, endlessly, he would whip me ... then he would fuck me ... then ... All I ever wanted ... END OF ALL I EVER WANTED [Coming Next: Volume 03 of the Megumi Stories: I AM NOT ASHAMED] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams