I AM NOT ASHAMED 10 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 03: I AM NOT ASHAMED BY KIMIKO KOBAYASHI AND MEGUMI KATO CHAPTER X The Stranger I stood submissively in the centre of the big room while he walked thoughtfully round me, twisting the ropes in his hands. He began, as my earlier tormentors had done, by creating a cradle for my breasts, taking the rope tightly round my chest above and below them, but also twisting each turn round my upper arms so that they were pinned firmly to my sides. Again I felt my sensitive breasts wonderfully aroused at the rough yet loving touch of the rope. Once that rope was fully wound around me, he took another and bound it round my left thigh, just below my crotch, twisting each turn round my left wrist so that my arm was helpless. With the third rope he did the same to my right thigh and wrist. I could tell that he wanted to leave me able to open my legs for his convenience later. Then he made me kneel before him and fetched the video camera, recording my helpless posture and my adoring, submissive gaze. "That's the easy bit," he informed me. "You do look nice. We'll just leave you like that, while I think about the next stage." "Are you going to tie me some more?" I asked submissively. "I have something very special in mind for you," he said. "Something you will never forget. Just be quiet and wait till I'm ready." He walked naked around the room for a few minutes while I followed him eagerly with my eyes, not daring to speak. He suddenly had an idea. I could see him hunt through the tray of fruit, plates and cutlery which the hotel provided for an honoured guest. He returned triumphantly with the two pairs of simple half-split chopsticks which had been included for any Japanese guests who preferred them to Western cutlery. He pulled them both apart while I watched, then fetched some thin cord from his suitcase. Cutting two short lengths, he tied the split ends together again. "Now, darling, let us decorate those pretty breasts of yours," he said, squatting on the floor beside me. My nipples had been hopelessly aroused by the firm caress of my ropes, and he had no difficulty fitting the two pairs of little sticks over them like clips. He took two longer pieces of cord, and looped one round the untied ends of the pair decorating my left breast, then took it round my back and did something I could not see to my bonds there. My nipple was now held with pleasant firmness, the grip of the wood adding to the stimulation of the ropes. He did the same thing to the sticks holding my right breast. "That should do it," he said. "See if you can stand up without my help." Obediently I began to rise. But as I tensed my chest muscles, the cords linking the outer ends of the wooden clips tightened and bolts of excruciating agony tormented my erect nipples. I screamed with the unexpected pain and slumped back to the floor. "Did that hurt, slave?" "Oh yes, Master, terribly." "Good. It was meant to. Stand up." "But I _can't_ ..." "Do what I say. Or shall I tighten the cords? I can make the clamps hurt really exquisitely, you know." Cowed by his severity, I tried again to rise, failing again as my sensitive breasts were pierced by excruciating agony. But this time there was a hint of something else behind the pain: I began to see why he had used the word "exquisite" in describing it. I was panting and sweating in my agony, but could feel my cunt gasping and dripping in sympathy. Before I could lose hold of my new discovery I tried a third time to rise, this time beginning to relish the powerful sensation which coursed through my body. When he saw that I was in earnest, he took me by my tightly bound arms and helped me to my feet. With careful steps I made it to the bed where he helped me to lie on my back, my legs apart, the anguish subsiding as I relaxed. "And how did _that_ feel?" he asked. There was only one permitted answer. "Exquisite, Master," I gasped. And then, very daring, I added, "Please make it hurt more." "That's my good slave!" he exclaimed, and kissed me on my unresisting mouth. He turned me onto my front and I felt him adjust the cords, fixing them more tightly I suppose to the rope behind my back: at any rate I could feel the little sticks gripping my nipples even more firmly, and by experimentally tensing my chest muscles I found I could bring the exquisite anguish back with renewed force. Great waves of warm contentment pulsed through my helpless body. I wanted to beg him to free me of this appalling instrument of torture, but my sensuality, developed to a pitch I had never known before, betrayed me. "Oh, it's so _good_!" I heard myself say. "I knew you would enjoy it," he said. "You're learning things about yourself you never knew, aren't you?" For answer I tensed my chest muscles and made the exquisite feeling overwhelm me again. And again, and again - each time trying to make it last longer, testing myself to see how much pleasure I could bear. "Just relax for a moment," he said quietly. Reluctantly I allowed the heavenly agony to subside. Suddenly I felt something - like a cock but harder and yet more slippery, like a thick finger but not so flexible - demanding entrance to my anus. I began to protest but that only set off the exquisite pain in my nipples again, and I could do nothing to stop the inexorable advance of the lubricated object. As soon as it had penetrated as deeply into my arse as it could, I became aware of another much thicker one entering my cunt. That needed no artificial lubrication: my pussy had responded juicily to the cruelly precise stimulation of my helpless breasts. I had heard of girls using dildos for sexual stimulation - women's magazines often had articles on the finer points of masturbation technique - but I had never tried them myself. In any case, how could a shy girl like me ... like I _used_ to be ... go into the sort of shop where such things were sold? No sooner had my lover inserted the instruments fully than I felt him straighten my legs as I lay on the sheet, and begin to tie my thighs tightly together with another rope. Before attending to the final knots, he pushed his fingers into my crotch and did something which made the dildos vibrate and throb inside me. "Can you move?" he asked. I wriggled experimentally. The sharp pain in my nipples mingled delightfully with the pleasure spreading up from my crotch. "No, not really." His hands were holding the whip and the cane, and by squinting down the length of my body I saw him place them on the sheet on either side of my bottom. "Are you going to use them?" "Perhaps. I will ... or somebody will. Open your mouth." Before I could ask what he meant, my gag was slipped into me again and the straps bound tightly behind my head. Then something new: a thick black blindfold. Plunged into darkness, I was conscious only of the spasms of pleasure and pain shaking my body - and of David's voice. "Now, slave, here's what is going to happen," he was saying. "I know it's late but I feel like some fresh air, so I'm going out for a walk. While you are lying here helpless, you can imagine me going round the bars, picking up a girl, telling her about you lying here waiting for me, and how I don't care - I'd rather leave you here and have her instead." I said nothing, What could I say? "And imagine this. There'll be other men in the bar listening to me. Perhaps I'll choose one for you, a good strong man, and give him the room key. So you can look forward to something a bit different. I'll be off with my sexy bar-girl while he's having you. Or maybe I'll come back here and watch. Yes, maybe I'll do that. I'm sure he'll be delighted when he sees you laid out like this for him, helpless - and with the whip and the cane waiting for him to use." "Ugh—grggh," I said into my gag. "The batteries should last at least two hours," I heard him say. "Enjoy yourself - and think about all the things you have to look forward to." The effect on me of this first experience of artificial aids to orgasm - and two at once at that, grinding and twisting inside my cunt and my arse as I lay there helplessly bound and at their mercy - was nothing short of shattering. And what made the experience even more glorious was the little pincers my wonderful Master had attached to my breasts: every time I gasped and struggled under the pleasure flooding from between my legs, the movement of my chest tightened them yet further and sent excruciating waves of pain through my body to join the pleasure like two halves of a magnet slamming together. Oh, how I loved the delicious agony which overwhelmed me! It was as if the coupling of two elemental forces was tearing my eager body apart. How willingly I writhed on the bed, knowingly increasing the ecstasy which tormented my nipples, sending white-hot pain to compete and blend with the searing joy coursing upwards from my pussy and arse! And how I worshipped my cruel lover for his kindness in binding me so carefully! For a while I was conscious of him, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his pleasure in the lovely sight of a bound girl wriggling in helpless orgasm. I wished I were free to stammer out my thanks, and beg him to tighten my bonds yet further and make the clamps bite even more fiercely into my loving breasts. And then I heard the door close, and he was gone, leaving me alone to float endlessly in a heaven of joy. I have no idea at all how long it lasted. Time had no meaning anymore. All I knew was the two dildos churning away in my cunt and arse, constantly flooding through me an intense pleasure illuminated by lightning flashes of exquisite agony from my breasts. I could see nothing and the gag in my mouth forced me to breathe slowly and evenly: I swallowed my accumulating saliva carefully at intervals, terrified of what might happen if I started to choke. My hands were tied high up on my back and my elbows and knees were securely fastened together; the only control I had over my sensations was the ability to decide, through slight movements of my chest muscles, the intensity of the pain delivered by the darling little sticks embracing my nipples. Its dazzling contrast with the waves of pleasure flooding from my pussy and bottom thrilled me more than anything I had experienced during my brief sexual career. I learnt to bring the pain to the height of beauty as each orgasm built, and soon I was floating on a tide of ecstasy. Where was David? Would he, as he had threatened - promised, bring back a man - men, if I was lucky, to fuck me as I lay there in my blind helplessness? Oh, and not just to fuck me, but to whip and cane me endlessly? Had he perhaps left the door open so that anyone passing by could enter the room, enter _me_, any way he wished? Would he, as he had hinted, bring a girl back with him to pleasure him as I was used? Used - oh, that was a lovely word! I wanted so much to be used. Insofar as the constant flood of orgasm left me any mind of my own, I began to dream of the delights of total submission. I saw myself completely naked at a party like the one I had attended after dear Megumi's wedding, bound helpless and willing, all three of my holes ruthlessly penetrated, my flesh exquisitely tormented with whips and clamps ... Suddenly I heard the door slam. My fantasy was about to become real! David's light voice was inviting someone into the room, explaining in his fluent Japanese that what he saw on the bed was his to use exactly as he wanted. A deep grunt responded briefly. I couldn't tell whether David had a girl of his own: if she was there, she made no sound that reached me. David was urging someone to unplug my three holes and use them as he wished. I felt first my cunt and then my arse deprived of the lovely vibrators which had pleasured me for so long. As soon as the gag was removed and I could speak after a fashion, I implored my new Master to take me. His hands explored my eager body roughly, and I felt rather than heard his grunt of surprise as he discovered the clamps adorning my breasts. "Yes," I heard David say, "she loves those. If she kept still she would feel nothing. But look how she tenses her muscles to make the clamps bite. She adores pain - even more than pleasure, I think." That's not fair! I thought. I love them both! It's just that without my dildos the clamps are the only source of pleasure I have left! I mean, the only source of pain, of course ... The man's fingers were dabbling in my soaking cunt, while his thumb pressed hard against the entry to my anus. I couldn't complain of being deprived of pleasure now! Free at last to breathe as I liked, I took a great gulp of air, the expansion of my chest causing the wooden clamps to squeeze my nipples till I honestly feared they would be torn right off. I let out a vast sigh of contentment and the delicious pain eased. Since that evening I have become a connoisseur of clamps and the joy they can give, but I have never known anything quite as beautiful as David's little home-made device. The trouble is that even the most agonisingly tight clamp loses its savour after a while as sensation begins to leave the pinched flesh. But I could control David's little sticks myself, with simple movements which were a natural part of love-making. When the agony began to fade I could release the pressure, enjoying the warm feeling of pain ebbing and blood returning - and then take my own breath away by suddenly increasing the torment to the maximum. My new lover - David's present to me - was testing my ropes and finding them firm enough, and me helpless enough, for his purpose. He pushed my knees even more tightly under me, so that my bottom stood up as high as it possibly could. I felt him lean across me and, unable to see what he was doing, heard what I guessed was the lashes of the cat-o'-nine-tails being dragged slowly across the sheet. I braced myself for what was about to happen. This man had no concern for me as a person. Surely he would whip me far more cruelly than David had been able to bring himself to do? He teased me for a while, seeming to raise the lashes high above me then letting them fall slowly, tickling my bottom, thighs and back with tormenting delicacy. Then suddenly, without warning, they bit into my yearning flesh! It was as if the night sky had suddenly exploded in front of me, the black pain illuminated by stars and suns of unimaginable beauty. Again and again the glory was repeated - never the same twice, as the lashes leapt and danced over the delicate skin of my bottom. I could just hear myself screaming with joy, begging him not to stop. I needed no plan to work the wooden clamps: every gasp of happiness made them add their contribution to the floods of delight overwhelming me. At last, despite my protests, the wonder stopped. I know now that my lover was being considerate: letting me come down from the heights of bliss so that I could savour the exquisite pain of the new experience he was about to grant me. It too would turn to intense pleasure soon enough, but he knew I would enjoy it the more if I had felt it first as pain. He shifted again on the bed. I heard rather than felt the thin cane hum through the air, cutting through it as milliseconds later it would cut into my firm flesh. A line of white fire was written onto my bottom. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; I could feel the pain make its leisurely inscription, then spread through my helpless body to meet the agony from my breasts and the ecstasy from my cunt which flooded eagerly to join it. As I have tried to explain, the fact that I was no longer in the state of bliss engendered by the prolonged whipping with the cat meant that I could feel the pain as true pain, not just as a stimulus to pleasure. That would come, of course, but there was no hurry! Again and again the sharp, narrow cane sizzled through the air onto my skin, writing line after line of fire. I do not think I have ever since experienced such total subjection to such bliss. I was no longer watching the glories of the night sky - I was floating off the bed - joining them - becoming part of them ... My wonderful lover was still caning me with all his strength when I lost my last contact with reality and was swept into dreams of such beauty that it still makes me wet even to think of them. [Next in Part 11: Chapter XI: New Experiences] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams