I AM NOT ASHAMED 03 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 03: I AM NOT ASHAMED BY KIMIKO KOBAYASHI AND MEGUMI KATO CHAPTER III The Wedding Reception The evening before the wedding I stopped at a stationer's shop on the way home and bought one of the special envelopes used for wedding gifts. On the outside was an elaborate fold of high-quality paper, hiding an envelope the size to hold banknotes. Round the middle was a twist of several strands of red and gold wire. When I got home I borrowed one of my mother's writing brushes and, after practising several times on a piece of newspaper, painted the characters for "Miss Megumi Kato" on the top half, and my own name below the wire decoration. Of course it would have been easy to write it with a pen, but that would not have seemed appropriate. Then I put two clean Y10,000 notes into the envelope, and folded the whole thing neatly together again. The reception was to start at 3 pm, so after an early lunch on Saturday I dressed myself carefully in new plain white office underwear and golden-brown tights, and over that a light green two-piece suit with a tight skirt which emphasised my small waist but modestly reached almost to my knees. I showed myself to my mother, who approved, stepped into a pair of white shoes as I left the house, and set off to take the subway to Shibuya Station. No man bothered me on the journey, and I was able to concentrate on recalling my friendship with Megumi and memorising the map enclosed with the invitation card. It was easy enough to find my way round the station to the street of shops and restaurants called Dogenzaka, where once upon a time I had often spent the early evening with Megumi and my other friends when school was over; and after only one false start I found the turning to the left which in due course led me to the street in which the Marucho Film Company had its offices. A sign informed me that the reception desk was on the second floor, so I walked up one flight of stairs. I presented my invitation card in its envelope, and was warmly welcomed by the girl in charge. She gave me a square of paper with the character for "rose" painted on it, and told me that was the name of my table. "In fact, I'm on that table too," she added. "I'll be joining you just as soon as all the guests have arrived. My name is Reiko." "Are you a friend of Megumi's?" I asked. "Oh, yes! All of us here are very fond of her." On Reiko's desk was a black lacquer tray on which several wedding contribution envelopes were already placed. I took mine carefully from my handbag, straightened the corners and added it to the pile. "It is nothing, but ..." "We are deeply grateful for your generosity ..." We bowed low to each other. Probably other guests were being much more generous than I, but Y20,000 was all I could afford on my OL's salary. Megumi would understand, I thought. Then Reiko told me to take the elevator up to the third floor, where there would be another member of the staff waiting to direct me. There was indeed a young man standing outside the elevator one floor up, and he politely opened for me the large, heavy door with the words "Studio Two" and a big red light above it. At last I was in a film studio for the first time! It was about the size of a banqueting room in a hotel, but it looked very different. It was mostly painted black, and there was a huge window in one of the long walls. It didn't look onto the outside, though. In the light from the studio I could dimly see banks of equipment through the glass. On the opposite side from the window was a low platform on which a long table stood, shining under the elaborate array of lights. Most of the rest of the floor area was occupied by smaller tables, all set for a seven-course Western meal. My guide suggested that, as they were not yet quite ready to start, I should sit for a while on one of the couches placed against the walls. As the big room began to fill up with other guests, I was surprised to see how many of them were foreigners. I remembered that, unlike me, Megumi had been good at English at school, and perhaps that explained it. And of course the film industry must be a very international business. There was a beautiful blonde girl, for example; and after her came a handsome foreign man who could easily have been an actor, a plump but very pretty young Japanese girl hanging onto his arm and looking up at him adoringly. What an exciting time Megumi must be having in her new life - even though I was not sure I would want such a life myself. While I was waiting quietly on my own the polite young man came up to me again, accompanying a tall foreigner. "Kobayashi-san, this is Mr Williams," he said. "Mr Williams will also be seated on the 'rose' table, so perhaps you won't mind if he joins you." I stood up and Mr Williams and I bowed politely to each other. Then we sat down together. Foreign businessmen sometimes came to see my boss in the Corporate Planning Department, so I had spoken to Westerners before, but I was naturally worried about spending several hours in the company of one of these unpredictable people. I glanced at him sideways: he seemed all right, even though he was rather casually dressed for a wedding - in jacket and trousers rather than a suit, and a coloured shirt with no tie. Fortunately Mr Williams could speak some Japanese, and seemed to know how to behave. "Have you known Megumi long?" he asked. "We were best friends at school." "Really? That's interesting. I've never met anyone who knew her that long ago. What was she like?" "Oh, very lively, adventurous ..." I didn't know what else to say. "Yes, I'm sure she was!" "And you? Have you known her long?" "I met her after she had started work here. I'm a writer, I publish articles in American magazines, and I came to visit the studio so I could write about it. She showed me round, and we became friends. What do you do, Kobayashi-san?" "Oh, I'm just an OL in a company." "You're not a film actress like Megumi? When I looked at you, I felt sure you must be." I was not accustomed to being flattered by foreign men, and was too flustered to know how to reply. I looked around the big room, which had filled up with other guests while we were talking. There was no one there I knew, but fortunately a middle-aged man, obviously the MC for the reception, appeared and made an announcement into a microphone asking us to take our places at our tables, so I did not need to say anything more. Mr Williams was very attentive and polite, so I soon forgot my earlier embarrassment and was able to speak naturally to him. Most of the tables were round, seating eight or ten people, as is usual at a wedding reception; but ours was set for only five people, with a bench covered in red velvet on one side and two little chairs on the other with their backs to the platform where the top table was. There was a big card on a stand with the "rose" character drawn on it, and there were place-cards with our names, also elegantly written in Chinese characters - except that Mr Williams's name was written in _katakana_ phonetic script as _Uiriamuzu_. I was glad to get a good look at the card, since it told me how to pronounce his name correctly. _Katakana_ script is a great help when dealing with strange foreign names, I think. Mr Williams was seated in the middle of the bench with me on his right side, and I saw from the card that Reiko the receptionist was to sit on his left. There was a fearful array of cutlery in front of each of us, and four glasses: one big one, two medium ones and a long, tall one. I hoped I wouldn't make a fool of myself. Perhaps it would be an advantage to be sitting next to Mr Williams: as a foreigner, he ought to know the rules and would help me. Waiters came round and filled the big glasses with iced water. Suddenly I realised that two girls had joined us and were about to take the chairs facing us. They wore very similar dresses: strapless so that their shoulders were bare, and tight round their slim waists, the short skirts reaching only a little way down their thighs and fluffed out by masses of stiff petticoats. One was in green, a little darker than my suit; the other in a sort of hot pink. They both wore matching high-heeled shoes and long gloves. They looked very pretty, but I could not help thinking that they were not dressed suitably for a wedding: they looked more like bar hostesses - not that I had any real idea of how bar hostesses dressed. I could see Mr Williams looking at the two of them with far more interest than he had shown on meeting me. I was a little piqued: if my figure was a bit fuller than theirs, my legs were almost as nice really, and I had taken the trouble to show off my little waist. How silly and obvious men were! - not that I had the slightest interest in Mr Williams, of course - but suddenly I felt that it would be fun to be dressed sexily like that myself, rather than in my correct, respectable suit. I was shocked to find myself thinking such a thing, and suppressed the feeling at once. "I'm Noriko," said the girl in pink. "I'm Midori," said the other. I introduced myself, and we all sat down. They and Mr Williams seemed to know each other already. "Noriko-san and Midori-san are colleagues of Megumi," Mr Williams explained. "They are actresses too." Perhaps that explained it. Actresses had to wear smart clothes, of course. Before I could ask what sort of parts they acted, the MC was asking us to stand again and welcome the bride and groom. The loudspeakers started to play the Wedding March, and spotlights shone on a door at the other end of the studio near the top table. Suddenly Megumi entered: of course, in her elaborate wedding kimono and hairstyle I could never have recognised her if I hadn't known that it must be her. After her came her new husband, in a handsome grey morning coat, and a woman in a formal black kimono whom I recognised as Megumi's mother. Then came two other couples who must have been her uncles and aunts. They processed across the top of the room, Megumi taking tiny steps with her toes turned in so as to manage the heavy kimono,[1] then stood in a line in front of a beautiful gold screen: until the spotlights shone on it I had not even noticed it. When Megumi's relations had stopped fussing over the arrangement of her kimono and had decided who should stand where, the MC invited us all to walk past the wedding party and offer our individual greetings. When it was my turn I bowed low before my old school-friend and congratulated her. "I'm so glad you could come, Kimiko-san," she said, taking care not to move her face muscles more than she had to in case she cracked her heavy white make-up. "This is my husband." She turned cautiously towards him. "Kobayashi-san was my best friend at school," she explained. Mr Otani and I bowed to each other and I offered my congratulations to him also. It was my first opportunity to see Megumi's new husband close to. He was older than I had expected but was tall and handsome: he had strong but quite normal Japanese features so perhaps it was only his height that he owed to his American mother. When he thanked and welcomed me his speech was normal too. I was quite relieved, not having known quite what to expect when I learnt that Megumi was marrying someone of mixed race. Then I congratulated Mrs Kato on her daughter's marriage and said how splendid she looked in her elaborate wedding kimono. She introduced me briefly to her brother and his wife and to her late husband's sister and her husband. Behind me in the line I could hear the excited chatter of Noriko and Midori, and the American accent of Mr Williams, as they had their turn with the happy couple. As I returned at last to my table and sat down again there was a sudden fusillade of champagne corks, which made me jump! There were squeals from some of the other girls, and soon the waiters were pouring the frothy wine into the tall glasses on all the tables. At last Megumi, her husband and her family took their places at the top table, and the MC asked us to rise again and drink the happy couple's health. The speeches began, and the meal was served. It is usual to have many speeches at a Japanese wedding reception - though no one ever listens to more than the first two or three - from a whole series of people who know the bride and groom: the go-between, if the marriage is an arranged one or if the family are pretending it is; the fathers; people who knew the young people as they grew up, or taught the bride flower-arranging, tea-ceremony, the piano and so on. Of course they all (except the fathers, that would be immodest) say what a splendid young man the bridegroom is and how good his career prospects are, and how accomplished and beautiful the bride is. While that is going on the bride and groom sit silent at the top table and try not to look embarrassed. But this time it had to be different. Mr Otani had no family in Japan, and Megumi's father had died long ago. Her mother had never been able to afford to pay for Megumi to learn feminine accomplishments like flowers and tea. Normally there would at least have been a speech from the Chairman of the Marucho Film Company, welcoming us to his studio and telling us what a hard-working employee Megumi had been: but one of my new friends explained to me that he was seriously ill, and I remembered that my brother Ken had told me about his heart-attack. "Of course there are lots of people in this room who could stand up and tell us all how talented and skilful Megumi is," said Noriko with a giggle, "including Mr Williams here. But those aren't the sort of talents a bride displays at her wedding reception. Only during the honeymoon." I gazed at her with my mouth open, wondering what on earth she meant. As she said nothing more, I looked towards Mr Williams for an explanation, but he was looking down at his plate, obviously embarrassed. There were however two speeches. The first was by an elderly gentleman whom I suddenly recognised as the Headmaster of the school Megumi - and I too, of course - had attended. Naturally he would hardly ever have paid any special attention to either of us during our schooldays, but it is part of a headmaster's job to give speeches at weddings saying how well he remembers his pupils and their extraordinary excellence. The second was by the beautiful blonde _gaijin_ girl I had noticed before, in halting Japanese: she was introduced as Mr Otani's daughter (so he had been married before!) and said she and Megumi had recently become close friends. During all this the meal was being served, and my other glasses were kept full of red and white wine. I did my best to show that I appreciated the food and drink, even though I didn't really want a seven-course dinner, however delicious and elegant, in the middle of the afternoon. I doubt if Megumi did either, as the wedding kimono must be constricting her tightly, and she had two elaborate changes of costume to make before she and her husband would be allowed to depart on their honeymoon. It was not long before we saw her leave the top table followed by her mother and aunts. While we waited for her to return, I leant forward to talk to Noriko and Midori. "I'm sorry, but I've never seen any of the films you have appeared in," I said, "or Megumi either for that matter. What sort of films are they?" They looked at one another, as if uncertain who should start. Finally Midori - the one in green - began. "Well, you could say they are very artistic," she said cautiously. I nodded. I knew about artistic films. My brother Ken kept trying to raise the money to make films like that. "With a lot of nudity and sex," added Noriko. "Oh!" I said, startled; and then went on quickly, so as not to seem unsophisticated, "but I suppose in an artistic film there's nothing wrong about nudity." They smiled at me and nodded. "If you are sincerely trying to create something ... I mean, something artistic and beautiful," I added uncertainly, trying to remember something Ken had once said, "then the human body can be, well, beautiful and ... I suppose ... artistic." They looked at me encouragingly, but I could think of nothing more to say and there was another pause. Nervously I drank some champagne to cover it. The bubbles tickled my nose. I did my best to go on sounding sophisticated. "Did it take a long time," I asked at last, "to get used to having to be ... er ... naked before the camera?" "Oh, no!" said Noriko, who seemed to be the irrepressible one of the pair. "It's _so_ lovely! When you take your clothes off, or the man takes them off for you, and you feel the camera gliding over your nude body, and you simply _know_ that every man who sees the video is going to want you desperately - oh, it's wonderful! It's like being caressed and petted by the most expert lover there ever was!" I just gazed at her, my mouth hanging open in astonishment, unable to say anything. A confused memory of Tomoko's description of the party she and Shizue had attended floated across my mind. I took another mouthful of champagne so as to make myself stop staring. "Now, Noriko," said Midori, "don't chatter like that. Can't you see you're embarrassing Miss Kobayashi? She's probably never even seen a sex-film." I found my voice at last. "You mean, you actually _enjoy_ it?" "Yes, of course!" said Noriko. "We _adore_ doing it in front of a camera - don't we, Midori?" She put her arm girlishly round her friend's waist, then turned back to me, leaning forward across the table and looking straight at me. She smiled. "Now, you mustn't look away. Look into my eyes when you answer." I found I had to obey her. "Kimiko-san," she went on slowly, "don't you secretly want to do it too? Don't you long to be here in this studio, the lights shining on you and the cameras turning, then slowly, very sexily, take all your clothes off just like we do, and have a man make wonderful love to you with everyone watching?" I was paralysed. That was just what Shizue and Tomoko had done at their party, and just what I had been secretly dreaming about doing ever since they had described it to me. I felt myself being drawn ever more deeply into Noriko's gaze. "Secretly, you're longing it do it," she went on, her voice now a seductive whisper as she leant even closer towards me. "You are trying to find a way of asking me to make it possible for you, to clear the space for you, to find you a partner, to tell everyone that you're one of us now." Noriko's dark brown eyes were gazing deeply into mine, offering to bring happiness and harmony to my confused feelings, promising everything I secretly wanted. What bliss it would be to surrender, to abandon all responsibility for myself, to subject myself totally to her direction. "You don't have to say anything," she was continuing. "Just give me a sign that you want it. I'll understand. I'll arrange everything for you. It could all be yours to enjoy. Everything you ever wanted. Just say yes." I began to imagine myself naked, my body clean and perfect, bathed in warm light which somehow smoothed away all the troubles and unhappinesses of my life. I wanted so much to accept what she was offering. I was on the point of whispering eagerly "Yes, oh _yes_!" Then at the last moment something stopped me. Perhaps it was the memory of the predatory men who looked me over hungrily in the train during my journeys home from work. I would be displaying my nakedness for men like _that_. I took refuge from Noriko's unsettling influence among the wine-glasses. Without thinking what I was doing I gulped down most of a glass of red wine. "No, of course I don't," I said abruptly and indignantly - angry with myself rather than with her. But as I said it, all at once I knew - really _knew_ at last - that I _did_ want to do those wonderful shameless things, wanted to do them with an almost unbearable desire. My head was spinning rather with all the wine I had drunk, but that knowledge was clear and sharp. I could feel the treacherous place between my legs becoming wet and juicy at the thought. Soon my panties would be getting damp again, just as they did - I now remembered - when men stared at me in the subway. Yes, I _did_ want to show myself shamelessly to men like that - wanted them to take me. It was dreadful to be forced to know that about myself, and to recognise that all my balanced, sensible views on how a girl should behave were just a sham. I dug my fingernails hard into the palm of my hand, as a punishment for my wickedness, hoping the pain would steady me before I gave myself away. I looked up again and was again mesmerised by Noriko's gaze: she - and Midori too - were looking at me as if they could easily read the confused thoughts passing through my mind and thrilling my body. "I think she does, you know," said Midori quietly at last - to Noriko, but still looking at me. "No - _no_!" I said desperately. "Oh, you don't have to be ashamed of it," said Noriko, releasing my gaze and becoming more conversational. "It's a very natural thing to feel. Lots and lots of girls want to act in sex films. You should see the letters we get! They tell us all about how they dream of nothing else but of being fucked on camera. And the photos and home videos they send us! Stripping, masturbating, screwing ... having themselves tied up and whipped ... imploring us on the soundtrack to give them a chance. Nice girls from good families, too, quite often." "We were all very excited when we saw Megumi's application," Midori joined in, looking away from me now and letting the tension relax. "She was so keen. She insisted on auditioning for us on her eighteenth birthday, the very day she was legally entitled to start work with us. And the test video she sent in was so good. A natural talent." "Megumi?" I stammered. "Do you mean she ... she ..." "Of course!" they both said. "What else do you think she does here?" added Midori. I was astonished. It had never occurred to me. She had been my best friend at school, and my brother Ken's girlfriend, but I had never realised ... Suddenly the spotlights were shining again as Megumi re-entered, a dream of romantic purity in her lovely white wedding-dress, her light modern make-up now making the best of her pretty face, her beautiful hair pinned up and decorated with sweet-smelling white flowers. She walked slowly round the room so we could all admire her, taking care not to brush against the tables with her wide skirt. She gave us such a modest, demure little smile as she passed our table and acknowledged our applause, her hands in their lacy white gloves clasped at her breast, her only jewellery a simple pearl necklace. It was impossible to imagine her doing ... well, doing the things my new friends had described. "I don't believe it," I said definitely. "Not Megumi." I turned to Mr Williams. He had been silent throughout our exchange. "Do _you_ believe it?" "Well," he said slowly, obviously embarrassed by my appeal, "I've seen all her videos. Many, many times." I gazed at him in silence. "Bob was Megumi's lover once, weren't you Bob?" said Midori. "Tell Kimiko about the things you did together." "Yes, we were together for a while," he said, less embarrassed now. "And again more recently." "Really, Bob?" interrupted Noriko. "I didn't know you'd been lovers again. That's brilliant." "She's wonderful in bed," he continued. "And out of it. Always full of new sexy ideas." "Oh, but that's nothing," I objected, trying to defend my friend and make the conversation more ordinary, even while wishing we could talk about something else. "What people do together in private. Nowadays. That's nothing to be ashamed of." "She loves doing it at parties," he said, ignoring me. "When I take her to a party she's always one of the first girls to take her clothes off - she enjoys being the one to start the party going, showing herself off nude even before the others do." Again, someone was describing to me my own secret dreams, the dreams that had been obsessing me ever since Shizue and Tomoko had described their adventures to me so graphically. How did these people know so much about me? Were my secrets written plainly on my face for all to read? Oh, Gods, perhaps they were? I tried to hide my confusion behind a wine-glass. I felt my head swimming. A waiter was trying to fill my glass and I waved him away, conscious that I had drunk too much already - realising too late that he had been offering me iced water. "Megumi never refuses anyone who wants to have her at a party," Mr Williams was saying, "and when the other girls see what fun she is having they all compete to see how quickly they can strip naked and find partners of their own. But she's a good sport: she makes the other guests wait and watch while she fucks her date first, as much as he likes, and only then lets them have a turn with her. She always says she never wants to leave a party till she's been fucked by every man there, and by any girls who fancy her too. After that she's ready to spend the rest of the night with her date." "You are making this up," I said indignantly. "I don't know why you are making it up, and attacking Megumi like this. But you are. I just won't listen to any more." I would have left the table except that it would have seemed rude and drawn attention to me. I looked towards the top table, hoping for a reassuring glance at the virginal girl in her lovely white dress. But she had gone to change again. At last Megumi appeared for the third time, now in her going-away outfit. We all applauded as she again showed herself through the big room, the spotlights following her. I was a bit disappointed at her appearance. I was hoping to be confirmed by the way she looked that I was right to dismiss Mr Williams's tales. In fact I thought her choice was a bit daring for such an occasion - though she could have worn it at a disco without anyone thinking it strange. She wore only a pair of very tight shorts or hot-pants in a shiny black material which glistened in the lights as she moved, and a matching sleeveless bolero jacket, so short that it came down to only just below her breasts where it was held together by a pretty gold chain. The little jacket showed off her slim, flat tummy and the smooth skin between her breasts. She also had on long, black high-heeled boots and long gloves in the same shiny material, both a skin-tight fit thanks to gold laces zigzagging along their length. The sweet smell of the gardenias she had worn earlier in her hair was now replaced by a musky perfume which titillated and frightened me as she showed herself at our table. I must say her outfit, however strange, did make her look very beautiful. She rejoined the bridegroom at the top table, and I saw him smile tenderly as he spoke to her - congratulating her on her appearance, I hoped. Soon it was announced that the bride and groom would leave on their honeymoon. They got up and came round the room together once more to say farewell to their guests. Megumi's new husband had now changed into a smart dark-blue business suit. He was charmingly attentive to her as she bowed to us each in turn, her beautiful long hair falling forward over her shoulders so that she had to toss it back each time. Mr Otani would look after his pretty young bride, I thought: treat her tenderly and take care not to hurt her. I found myself crying a little at the thought of her happiness, hoping I too might find a man who would treat me as he would treat her. Before I could give myself away and make a fool of myself, we all crowded downstairs into the building's lobby and out onto the street, waving the happy couple good-bye. Mr Otani took his bride in his arms and kissed her as the cameras flashed. Then he helped her into the back seat of the big hired car and walked round behind it to join her on the other side. Before the driver could slam the door I thought again how beautiful and - yes - desirable she looked in her daring outfit, her pretty body and legs displayed against the black leather of the seat. Then they were off, as we cheered and shouted good wishes. After that it was time to say good-bye to the guest of honour, my former headmaster. We all bowed low as he was helped into his hired limousine, tucking his envelope of "expenses" into his pocket. Then Megumi's mother and her aunts and uncles stood bowing on the steps of the building, before getting into their more modest cars with all their bundles and driving away. FOOTNOTE [1] We call it walking in "figure-of-eight" because the Chinese character for "eight" is written with two strokes slanting together at the top. - K K [Next in Part 04: Chapter IV: After the Wedding] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams