I AM NOT ASHAMED 11 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 03: I AM NOT ASHAMED BY KIMIKO KOBAYASHI AND MEGUMI KATO CHAPTER XI New Experiences I suppose I must have fainted in my ecstasy. The next thing I knew it was early morning, and David was sleeping beside me. I was free of my bonds and blindfold, and snuggled lazily up against him, conscious of a great wave of well-being flooding through my happy, well-whipped and well-fucked body. It was the same peace and harmony I had felt the morning after Megumi's wedding: the same my sister Fumiko had urged me to seek, and this time it was not spoilt by prudish shame at my actions. Dreams of extraordinary glory began to come back to me. The white-hot lines incised into me had faded to a dull red warmth. Even wriggling against the light sheet over my bottom was creating a hot feeling of pleasure where the whip and cane had delighted it. My hand slid down and began to stroke my arse. Then it moved over to stimulate my lover's cock into an erection. "How's my lovely girl this morning?" he asked sleepily, petting my hair and shoulders. "In heaven." "And how would you like to begin the day?" I thought for a moment, trying to decide what to ask for first. "Will you fuck my bottom again? Please?" "Of course. Just as soon as you've made me ready again." I propped myself up on my elbows. "Excuse me a minute," I said, "I have to go to the bathroom first." His arm tightened round my waist. "To do what?" "Well ... you know ..." "What?" "You _are_ funny," I said, blushing and looking away from him. "I have to ... you know ... pee." He held me even tighter. "Let me go! I'm serious. I need to go." "Did you really like all the things that happened to you last night?" "Oh, _yes_!" I said. "Will you do something to me that _I_ really like?" "Yes, of course! Just as soon as I come back. Honestly, I won't be long. Then I'll do whatever you want." "You know I told you I'm fascinated by Japanese girls' bottoms?" "Yes, but please let me go! It's urgent!" He paid no attention to my struggles, but held me as tightly as ever. "It's not just because I love fucking girls' arses, and whipping them. There's something else I enjoy too. Please piss in my mouth." In my astonishment, I stopped struggling. "_What_?" "Please piss in my mouth," he said again. "But you _can't_ want me to do that!" "Why not? I just asked you to. Just sit over my face and let it come." He was beginning to pull me into the position he wanted, and in my surprise I was letting him do it. I began to struggle again. "I'm too ashamed!" I said, my crotch already over his chest as he began to slide down the bed between my thighs. "What are you ashamed of?" I couldn't answer that. It just felt strange. I knew I would now have to do what he wanted: my need was too urgent, and even if I could break free I doubted if I could make it to the bathroom in time. The odd thing was that I wasn't embarrassed at the extraordinary, perverted thing I was about to do to a man: what I was ashamed of was the thought of doing it in bed. Suppose I made a mess? Suddenly I remembered vividly being spanked by my mother when I had made little mistakes as a child. My muscles had been well trained to avoid such disasters at all costs. But now, as I faced the headboard of the bed, squatting over his face, I could feel his wide-open lips clamped against my slit, and his hands expertly squeezing my waist and lower stomach, making it impossible to hold out any longer. With a sob I suddenly let go. The relief to my aching bladder was tremendous, and I could feel, transmitted up through his lips, the gulping of his throat muscles as he strove to keep up with the hot stream pouring into his mouth. At last it was over. I leant gasping against the wall as his tongue investigated my tiny pee-hole in search of any last drops, before giving a few strokes to my clitoris and my pussy in case they should feel neglected. Soon we were in each other's arms again. "Was that nice?" he asked. "Well, yes, I needed to go badly," I said, "but did you really enjoy it?" "Oh, _yes_, it was lovely! You taste delicious. Somehow I knew you would: a girl whose cunt tastes good always makes lovely piss too. It was hot and salty, and yet fresh and young-tasting as well - with just a touch of sex to add flavour. But I think that was because your pussy was dripping into my mouth too." "Did I ... was there any mess?" I asked shyly. "No, no - I didn't lose a drop." There was a little silence. I avoided his kiss: I somehow didn't want to know what it had tasted like. "Promise me something," he said. "While we're together, whenever you want to piss, just tell me and let me have it. Don't waste it. It's one of the ways I can love you." I didn't know what to make of this. "David, how did you discover you liked it so much?" "Liked what?" I giggled. I knew he enjoyed making me talk freely about sex. "Having girls pee in your mouth, of course, silly! I mean, it's not the sort of thing you just think of and ask for - or is it?" "Well," he said, "it was chance, really. I was making love to a young schoolgirl once - I'd met her through an _enjo kosai_ advertisement. You know about that system?" I nodded. I knew about "assisted dating", a sort of introduction service for schoolgirls and young Office Ladies enjoying the pleasures of casual prostitution. It was what I was doing now, in a way, though I hoped he hadn't realised. "She said she was just fourteen and a beginner, but _enjo kosai_ schoolgirls usually say that - they know it pleases their clients. Maybe she was: she'd never had her pussy sucked before ... at least not the way I do it ... and she was squealing and wriggling with pleasure. I suddenly found I was getting spurts of the most delicious liquid in my mouth mixed with her pussy-juice. So fresh, and young ... oh, it was enchanting. At first I thought she just had an unusually tasty cunt, but then I worked out that in her excitement she couldn't quite control her bladder. That's when I found out." "I need a shower," I said, pulling away from him. He came into the bathroom with me. To my delight he brought the video-camera, setting it up on the shelf over the basin so that it could record us happily giggling and laughing as we soaped each other under the spray. But something was niggling away at me. At last I said: "Was it really so nice, what I did to you? Just now, I mean?" "Oh, yes!" he said. "Are you ready to do it again?" "No ... no," I replied, embarrassed. Then suddenly I made my mind up. "Do you think I would enjoy it if you ... if you did it to me?" "Oh, my darling! Would you really like to try?" I hesitated. It sounded bad - but then I had several times sucked the creamy cum from his cock, and that had been lovely. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to keep up with his rapid flow. But here in the shower there could be no mess. "Yes," I said firmly, "I would." He quickly turned the shower taps off, then made me kneel before him on the tiled floor, my wet body bent back as if in supplication. He leant over me, one hand supporting his weight against the wall behind me, the other directing his flaccid cock. Suddenly a warm, golden stream began to tickle my breasts. I had somehow not expected the warmth, and the stimulation was very arousing. Knowing that the flow could not last long, I opened my mouth imploringly. The stream quickly travelled up my chest, spattered off my chin and finally entered me. I gulped the warm, salty liquid down eagerly, then closed my eyes as it moved up to baptise my forehead, and cease. After a long pause I opened my eyes again. "Oh, that was lovely!" I said. "You were right. You _will_ do it to me again, won't you?" "Whenever you like," he said as he helped me to my feet. The shower was running again now and his gentle hands rinsed me clean. Then he patted my body dry with the hotel's big, fluffy bath-towel, and carried me back to the bed. "How did you manage to swallow it all, without spilling any?" I asked. "Oh, it takes practice," he said. "You should try in the bathroom, where it doesn't matter what you spill. Use some container with a narrow spout - like a coffee-pot, for example - and fill it with water. Then hold it as high above your head as you can, and practice pouring the water into your mouth. You have to learn the trick of swallowing as you pour. If you stop swallowing and let your mouth fill up, it doesn't work." "Yes," I said thoughtfully. "I'd like to be able to do that, now that I know. Do all men enjoy having girls do it to them?" "Well," he said, making gentle fun of my enthusiasm, "it's as well to ask first." I opened the big curtains and we stood together for a while, enjoying the fresh autumn morning. I remembered something, and broke away from him for a moment to put on my black high-heeled shoes. It was nice to show myself to him dressed like that, teetering sexily on the narrow points - and to anyone else who was watching, of course. "Before you fuck me again," I said suddenly, "will you whip me a bit? I think I'd really like that." "Of course!" he said. "There's no better way to start the day! Where are your ropes?" I suddenly realised that I didn't need them any more. Not this time, anyway. It would be my delight to accept the punishment at his hands willingly, with no hint of being forced to do it. I turned towards the window, and stood with my legs braced and apart, my hands behind my head to keep them from trying to protect my body. "Oh, darling," I said, "just do it to me. As hard as you like. I won't run away!" For a moment or two he stood behind me, fondling my breasts and gently kissing my neck as he told me how much he loved me. Then he began. The nine burning lashes whistled down on me, curling round my hips and sometimes seeking out the most delicate places between my open legs as I willed myself to stand and take it. At first it hurt so much that I shuddered at the dreadful pain, wondering in a panic if since last night I had lost the trick of loving it, of gradually transmuting the agony into ecstasy. But then suddenly it came right for me again, and I was gasping and wriggling with joy, unable to decide whether I was loving the pain for its own sake or for the pleasure it could create, begging him to whip me harder and harder ... For a while, at my suggestion, he stood before me and lashed furiously at my sensitive, yearning breasts, but we both knew my true delight was in the endless torture of my plump bottom. At last he threw the cat aside and carried me, almost fainting with happiness, to the bed. His gentle hands stroked my scarlet, burning arse, lightly soothing my skin with lotion provided by the hotel: as the glow faded I could feel him proposing a new joy, his lubricated fingers teasing my arsehole, pushing aside my involuntary resistance, retreating again. "Please, darling - oh, please, yes!" I whispered. At last I felt myself being arranged in position, my knees again tucked up under my tummy, my well-oiled arse - soothed by his massage but still warm and luxurious from the memory of his whip - presented for his pleasure. Once more I felt the irresistible onslaught of his velvet, hard cock as it breached my pointless defences and began its slow, unstoppable advance up my narrow, welcoming passage. There was no pain this time: just a glorious feeling of fullness, of fulfilment, as my body did what it was designed by nature to do. At last the hot bursts of cum spurted into me beyond the point even his cock could reach, and we lay together for long minutes in complete contentment. I was vaguely aware that he had left me to go to the bathroom and do those mysterious things men do to get ready for the day. I went on lying sprawled in the big bed, my body luxuriating in the after-glow of all the pleasure that had been forced upon it. In my mind I experienced again the exquisite tightness of his cock firmly lodged in the thin, narrow sleeve of my arsehole. If it was good for me, how wonderful it must be for him to be held so firmly! It must feel ... oh, like those lovely new boots he had bought me, when they were laced up so tightly over my feet and calves by the pretty girl at the department store. For a moment I thought about her, kneeling before me tugging at the laces, and the secret little smile she had given me, as if to say, "Men don't understand these things, but we girls know what's nice, don't we?" I wondered idly about her sex-life: did she enjoy going to parties and being tied up, or was she lucky enough to have a man of her own who understood her needs? That reminded me once again of dear Megumi's wedding - not just of my own incredible, life-changing experiences but of the way she had looked as she set off with her handsome husband. At the time I had thought the provocative clothes she had worn were just Megumi indulging her taste for the outrageous, but I knew better now. In my mind I looked again at the tight, shiny black gloves and boots, following the gold laces cris-crossing firmly from wrist to armpit, from ankle to crotch. How wonderfully tight they must have felt, the thin, flexible material moulding itself to her soft flesh! I wanted clothes like that. I had no idea where to get them - they were surely too unconventional for a respectable department store - but find them I would. Shizue and Tomoko would tell me where to look. My lovers - and I now intended to have _lots_ of lovers - would surely enjoy having me dressed like that, and held so tightly I would know something myself of the pleasure they felt as they penetrated me. Returning to the start of this train of thought, I recalled David shouting with joy as my narrow, inexperienced arse squeezed his entering cock; and that brought back the sensation of his big hands encircling my little waist, pinching it cruelly as he held me firmly in position to receive the thrusts of his cock. That too was a sensation I wanted to enjoy again. Suppose that, as well as the tight gloves and boots, I wore a belt, or ... yes, a corset, not one of those old-fashioned heavy things but of the same thin, glistening material as my gloves and boots, laced as tight as I could bear it - no, tighter than that of course - much, _much_ tighter than I could _possibly_ bear - only my breasts and arse uncovered for my lovers' hands and cocks and whips to pleasure ... My body thrilled at the thought of being presented like that; my heart beat fast, I found myself already taking the quick, shallow breaths which would be all the cruel corset would allow, unable for lack of breath to scream or even to beg for more, able only to pray that my lovers would understand my urgent need for the exquisite agony to last for ever ... Oh, hurt me my darling, hurt me, hurt me with all your strength! [Next in Part 12: Chapter XII: The Next Day] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams