I AM NOT ASHAMED 15 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 03: I AM NOT ASHAMED BY KIMIKO KOBAYASHI AND MEGUMI KATO CHAPTER XV The Third Test The next day I received my instructions for the Friday night party. Dear Kimiko, Well, you've done fine so far. We hope you realised Sachiko is a friend of ours and that you didn't just meet her by chance? [I hadn't realised anything of the sort but I had given up being surprised by anything to do with Shizue and Tomoko.] But now for the ultimate Test of whether you are worthy to join us. Are you ready for it? On Friday at 6:30 precisely you will go to the address shown on the enclosed slip. Memorise it carefully, then shred it. You will wear your office uniform, of course, but will take your party clothes with you. That means only your dress, the g-string that goes with it, your shoes and your gloves: no tights or underwear. The man who opens the door will be your Master for the evening. You will do everything he says without fail and without a moment's hesitation. See you at the party! - Tomoko and Shizue That evening at home I gave myself a thorough maintenance session, plastering my arms and legs with depilatory cream to burn off any black fuzz which might spoil their ivory smoothness. I washed my hair and painted my finger- and toenails silver to match my dress. When my nails were dry I carefully trimmed my pubic hair into a neat curly patch, cutting away any long hairs around my pussy. Finally I drank twice from the little teapot which was still standing on the bathroom shelf where I had left it, pleased that I was now able to swallow rhythmically as my mouth filled, not missing a drop. I hoped I would be permitted to demonstrate my new skill! When I at last emerged from the bathroom, my mother had dinner ready. "Are you going to a nice party tomorrow, dear?" "Oh, yes! I'm looking forward to it so much!" "That's nice. I'm glad you're going out more, and enjoying yourself. Have you found any special boyfriend yet?" "No ... not really. Just friends that it's nice to be with ..." "All right, dear, I don't want to pry. Enjoy yourself while you're young. Marriage will come soon enough," she added with a sigh. "Yes ... I may be late back tomorrow - you won't worry, will you?" "That's all right. I'll probably still be up - you know, waiting for your father to come in. He usually works late on a Friday." We smiled at each other, knowing very well what "working late" meant: a long evening of drinking and being entertained by bar hostesses at the company's expense. As soon as work was over on Friday I hurried to my usual subway station near the office. My heart was beating fast with excitement, and I could feel my hand sweating as I clutched the shiny carrier-bag with the clothes I was to wear for the evening that awaited me. With my company commuting ticket I took the train and after changing once arrived at Omotesando Station. The little map my friends had given me with the address was fairly easy to remember and, after only a few false starts and with the help of the blue-and-white address notices fixed to walls on the corners of the narrow streets, I arrived at the building they had specified a few minutes ahead of the appointed time. I pressed the button beside number six at the entrance to the smart, modern apartment block. There was a small label by the button with some faded characters written on it, but I was too excited to spend time puzzling out the name in the dark. There was a click from the speaker of the intercom, but no one said anything. "This is Kobayashi here," I said hesitantly after a few moments. Again there was no voice from the speaker, but the lock of the front door at once began to buzz. I pushed the door open and found myself in a lobby coolly decorated in grey and blue. There were two elevators in the far wall, one of them standing open. I entered and pressed the little panel marked "Apt 5 & 6". The door of Apartment 6 opened as I approached it. A man stood looking at me from the doorway, dressed only in a black polo-shirt and dark slacks and with his feet bare. He was very tall for a Japanese. He said nothing. "Good evening," I said shyly, "I am Kobayashi." "You are on time," he said. "Good." He pointed down the corridor to the left of the little entrance hall. "Go to the end room and change. You may leave your office clothes there." I stepped neatly out of my office shoes and up onto the carpeted area beside him. "Thank you. Please forgive my intrusion." "You will address me as Master." He used the English word, pronouncing it _Masuta_, rather than the Japanese word _sensei_. "I understand, Master." I bent down to turn my shoes to point towards the door - a useless gesture as I would be wearing my new silver high-heels when I left, but these things are automatic to me as a Japanese - bowed to him, and walked down the corridor in my stockinged feet, clutching my carrier bag. The room to which he had directed me was the main bedroom of the apartment. It was tidy and equipped with modern bedroom furniture including a large double-bed and two comfortable armchairs. The pictures on the walls were a series of enlarged black-and-white photographs of exquisitely beautiful naked girls, all shown at the moment of orgasm. Some of the pictures were close-ups of their ecstatic faces, but in most the whip or the cock which had granted them such pleasure could be seen too, lovingly embracing them or thrust deep into arse, cunt or mouth. It was humbling to imagine that I might one day be thought worthy of joining such spectacular company. I did not wish to keep the Master waiting, however, so quickly removed my office clothes and arranged them neatly on one of the chairs. Then, naked, I took my handbag into the en-suite bathroom. This too was very tidy, with masculine toilet articles neatly laid out and a pleasant but indefinably male smell. He had said nothing about permitting me time for a shower and I dared not make him impatient. But I also wanted to be fresh and at my best for him, and for the others who I expected would want to use me during the evening. So I allowed myself a few minutes under the hot water, relishing the needle-sharp spray as it stung my skin and made me fantasise about the delights of the evening ahead. Would they want to ...? I did so hope they would - but there was no point in trying to guess. All I knew was that they would have prepared some very special and wonderfully thrilling things to do to me, and that my Test meant accepting them eagerly and without constraint. Part of the pleasure for me was not knowing in advance what they would be and what they would feel like. It was strange, but ever since I had entered on my new life on my return from Kyoto, I had had quite a lot of straight sex but not a single taste of the whip. I had naively expected the opposite - that men would somehow tell from just looking at me what I most wanted, and rush to give it to me. But neither the lover I had shared with Shizue nor any of the men I had served in the Pink Salon with Sachiko had shown the slightest interest in binding me or whipping me. Never mind, I thought, tonight would make up for all that! My body tingled as I tried to imagine the delicious torments awaiting me. I patted myself dry with the big towel, brushed my hair and scented myself delicately with the perfume I carried in my handbag, paying special attention to my breasts and pussy. Then I walked back into the bedroom. "I wonder," I thought to myself. Very daring, I pulled open the drawer of the bedside table. Yes, there they were just as I had dreamt of them: dildos and vibrators, of course, but also a couple of long whips and the kind of cat I most loved - its slim lashes embellished with little hard knots which would prickle my skin so delightfully. I pulled it from the drawer and ran the sweet lashes through my fingers. Oh, it had been so long! Surely no one would mind if I just swished the lovely cat round my bottom once or twice ... but forcing myself to wait a few hours longer was part of the pleasurable torment the evening had in store for me. I made myself put the cat back where it belonged, and concentrated on laying the contents of the carrier bag out on the big bed. Tomoko and Shizue had been very specific. I was to wear the silver dress, gloves and shoes and nothing else: no tights and no underwear other than the little matching g-string. I began with that: the tiny triangle just covered my trim patch of curly hair, and I tied the strings in neat matching bows on my hips. It took a few minutes to squeeze myself into the tight sheath of the dress, pulling in my stomach and pinching my waist to make it possible for the zip fastener to travel over the swell of my bottom up to the middle of my back. At last it was done, and I could tie the thin straps of the halter top behind my neck, letting my hair fall smoothly to hide the bow. The gloves too were tight but slipped on easily, turning my hands and arms to a smooth gleaming silver which prettily complemented the glittering dress. I was uncertain what to do about my shoes. Normally I would have carried them barefoot through the apartment, putting them on only as I stepped down into the little tiled lobby behind the front door. My Master had been barefoot when he admitted me, I recalled. But the shoes were clean and brand-new, and this was a Western, fully-carpeted apartment - in any case I immodestly wanted to see from his eyes, as I came down the corridor, whether my outfit met his expectations. So I put them on, clipping the slender chains round my ankles and relishing the elegant, teetering look the long slim heels gave my bare legs as I examined myself in the full-length mirror. In the event he gave me no clue, but nor did he criticise me for wearing shoes on his carpets. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting, Master," I said submissively as I joined him in the entrance. He said nothing. He was wearing a light grey jacket over his polo-shirt, and now had on socks and shoes himself. He took me by the elbow and led me out of the apartment and back into the elevator. I pressed the signal for the first-floor entrance. "No," he said, pressing another, "we are going to the garage." "Please forgive me," I murmured, though in fact the heat-sensitive panel had failed to respond to my gloved finger. In the garage he guided me to a gleaming black foreign car. It was a Mercedes - I recognised the three-pointed star on the front, but have no idea which type it was. When we had taken our places he pulled a blindfold from his jacket pocket. "My friends and I do not want you to know where you are being taken, Kimiko-san," he said. It gave me a little thrill to hear my Master use my name for the first time. "If you wish to blindfold me, Master, I shall of course accept it willingly," I said daringly, "but if it is your order that I shut my eyes and do not attempt to see where you are taking me, you may trust me to obey you absolutely." He looked at me for a moment, then smiled. "Very well," he said, slipping the blindfold back into his pocket. "That will be a good test of your submission." I could tell of course that we were driving back along Omotesando and then turning right onto Aoyama-dori heading towards Shibuya. But then I lost track. Perhaps he deliberately took a complicated route so as to confuse me. It is not easy to keep your eyes shut while you are awake, especially in a moving car, but I soon learnt to resist the temptation to blink and settle my eyelids more comfortably. In any case it was pleasant to sit beside my Master with my eyes obediently closed, the smooth black leather coolly sensuous against my bare thighs and back, an exquisite balance of desire and fear building up inside me as I tried to guess what he and his friends were planning to do to me ... After thirty minutes or so the car began to zigzag through the tangled maze of a residential area, until at last I felt the gravel of a short drive under the wheels. We stopped, and I heard my Master get out. "You may look now," he said as he opened my door for me. I scrambled out as best I could in my tight, short dress and gazed around curiously. As my eyes adapted to the light I saw that I had come to a large house with some space for a garden: the kind of residence only the richest and most important foreign businessmen could afford. While the tenant or owner might have been a wealthy Japanese I doubted it: such men preferred the more discreet extravagance of a traditional house. Another car was pulling away ahead of us, and a man politely took the keys of ours. The front door was opened by a pretty Asian maid: she was Filipina or Thai, I guessed. Apart from high-heeled black shoes and a shiny black g-string glittering in the light she was wearing only wrist-length gloves and a housemaid's cap to show her status. She did not seem to find her charming near-nudity at all embarrassing or unusual. Obviously sex-parties were familiar events in this house, and it was part of her job to dress appropriately. My Master put out his free hand and lightly stroked her naked bottom; she smiled happily in response and greeted us both politely, indicating a pair of double-doors through which lively conversation could be heard. There was another couple waiting in the hall. They turned to welcome us, the woman - tall, with short fair hair - smiling at me encouragingly while the man greeted my Master and then looked me over with frankly sexual interest. I began to tremble slightly with excitement: surely they both knew very well what wonders of delicious torment were waiting for me just the other side of those doors. Had they been given parts to play in what was to come? Was the man already imagining my body squirming delightedly under his whip - would I soon be desperately begging his companion to twist the clamps ever more cruelly tight as they bit lusciously into my firm, eager breasts? I began to feel a little giddy ... my breath shortened with excitement, the juice began to gather in my helplessly expectant pussy ... "Are you all right, Kimiko?" asked my Master. Without waiting for an answer he took me into a small room to one side of the hallway, and let me sit for a while. "I'm so sorry, Master," I stammered, "I'm better now. It's just that I have been so looking forward to this evening, it's been so long since anyone last ... you know, and all the wonderful things you are planning to do to me - it's so exciting to know that in a few minutes ... and yet not to know what is going to happen to me ... Oh, you are all _so_ kind and good to me!" "Take your time," he said kindly. "You do love being submissive, don't you?" "Oh, _yes_!" I said, sitting forward eagerly in my chair. "Now that I know ... you see I didn't _know_ until just recently - but _now_ I know - to be tied up, and helpless, and naked and shameless before everyone ... and ... and ... to be used and tormented endlessly for your pleasure, and for mine too, of course ... these days I think about nothing else. Whips ... cocks entering me ... and ropes and corsets binding me so tight ... I dream of them all the time. And now, oh _now_, it's all going to start happening to me again - oh, it's so _wonderful_!" "Well, are you ready? My friends and I have some very special experiences prepared for you. I can promise you an exquisite evening." I just looked up at him, my eyes sparkling with tears of happiness, my heart too full and my body too excited even to say yes. He escorted me politely across the hallway and through the double-doors into the big living-room, letting me walk in front of him as I balanced carefully on my slender high-heels. The doors closed irrevocably behind me. I blushed a little at the attention I attracted, my glittering mini-dress sparkling in the lights and my thighs rustling slightly as they brushed against each other. There were about forty people in the room, most of them still dressed though some had already found partners. Several more of the pretty Asian housemaids were moving through the crowd serving drinks; they had shed their little g-strings now and were responding with happy smiles to the sexual attention their nudity attracted. Was it the rule of the house that required them to be fully naked inside this room, or had the guests enjoyed stripping them of their last little scraps of modesty while they pretended to protest? As my Master and I entered, those guests nearest the doors stopped talking and watched me. The others soon realised that the main event of the evening had arrived, and they too fell silent. But their smiles were welcoming; and I knew they were expecting me, and looking forward to what was about to happen just as much as I was. I could glimpse Shizue and Tomoko in the crowd, smiling encouragement at me. I relaxed and even took a little immodest pleasure in the excitement I was causing. "This is Kimiko, who is a candidate for our consideration tonight," said my Master as he passed me round the big room. My excitement was different from theirs, of course, since the other guests knew what was to happen while I could only guess at the wonderful experiences my Master and they had planned for me. When he had shown me off to everyone, my Master took me gently by the left elbow and stopped me as one of the nude housemaids smilingly brought forward a small table. The atmosphere had become so tensely focussed on me that no one even thought to take advantage of her nakedness. But I had no time to feel sorry for her disappointment: I looked down and could not repress a little gasp of excitement as I saw the coils of white rope waiting for me. I had been hoping so much that I would be permitted to spend at least part of the evening bound, and it seemed that my wish was to be granted at once! They were just the kind of ropes I most liked, too: soft and yet firm, made from natural fibres which are so much more flexible than plastic and would bite so deliciously into my firm, plump flesh. "Will you please undress for us, Kimiko?" asked my lover in a low voice. I sensed that this was the last occasion that evening when I would be allowed to decide anything for myself, so - even though I was desperate to do what he asked - I remained silent for a few moments, my eyes modestly lowered. Then I raised my head slowly, and looked at him, and then at some of the other guests standing nearest to me, my lips slightly parted with excitement, the modest blush returning to my cheeks. Still saying nothing, I lifted my arms in their long, gleaming gloves above my head and slowly untied the halter of my glittering dress. There was a little gasp as the front of my dress fell forwards and freed my naked breasts. Then I reached behind my back and gradually - oh, so gradually! - slid the zip fastener downwards. I could sense the tension as I slowly eased the tight cloth over my hips: they were all longing to find out if I was wearing panties or had been fully naked under my dress from the moment of setting out with my Master on this Test of my new-found sexuality. There was a sigh of satisfaction from my audience as the shining sheath fell to the floor at last and I stepped out of it, leaving it to one side. Before it could be damaged it was taken away for safety by one of the pretty maids, and I turned slowly to display my near-nudity. "How beautiful her breasts are!" I heard one of the women in the audience say. "And how lovely she looks in just that pretty little g-string! It's almost a shame she'll have to take it off." "Almost," said her companion. "_I_ want to see her nude." "How obvious you men are!" "All right. But complete nudity and total submission are what we come here to enjoy. And her Master will let her keep her gloves and shoes on, I'm sure. That's always a pretty effect." I let my gloved hands slide languidly over my breasts and down my stomach, then played with the little bows on my hips. "May I?" I begged my Master softly. "May I? I want _so_ much to be nude ... for you, for me, for everyone ..." "You enjoy being nude? For everyone to see?" asked my Master. "Oh, _yes_!" "Then you may." Slowly, teasing myself, I pulled the bows of the g-string apart. With one silver hand I coyly handed the little scrap of cloth to my Master, while with the other I fluffed up the crisp curls of the neatly trimmed patch between my already damp thighs. I risked a coy glance towards the man who had wanted to see me nude; then turned again under the lights, happily - oh _so_ happily! - showing off my perfect nakedness for the enjoyment of my new friends. My Master took me by one silver elbow again and walked me slowly through the appreciative crowd. I stepped carefully in my new shoes, shyly aware of how beautifully the long, slender heels stretched my legs and made my bottom wiggle sexily. I looked down with a modest blush as hands reached out to stroke my arse and thighs, and fingers tweaked my already hard nipples. I could see that with his spare hand my lover - my Master - had scooped up the waiting coils of rope, and my skin began to shiver with excitement, longing for their kiss. In the middle of the room he begged the crowd, now themselves mostly undressed, to move back a little, then prepared to bind me. "Shall I take my gloves off, Master?" I asked submissively, trying to hide my eagerness to feel the intimacy of the tight ropes. "No, leave them on," he said shortly, his voice betraying his own sexual arousal. Without waiting for his instruction I put my hands behind me and turned my back to him so that he could begin the binding. He roped my wrists firmly together, then made me bend my elbows so that my hands were pinioned in the small of my back. With the rest of the coil he began the process I loved so much, looping the rope tightly round my chest just under my breasts, twisting each turn at my sides and taking it round each upper arm so that I was soon helpless. Then the second coil completed the pattern, binding me tightly above the breasts, the end of the rope neatly tucked into the lower one so that together they formed an open bra from which my breasts stood out firm and proud. He tied the end of a third rope to my wrists, then led me through the excited crowd who pressed forward, lovingly stroking and patting my helpless body. "Will you not bind my legs too, Master?" I asked as this second parade came to an end. "Would you like that?" he asked me gently. I was too experienced to fall into that trap. "My delight is whatever it pleases you to do to me, Master," I replied submissively. "That is a good answer, Slave. See how excited you have made some of our guests!" he said. "Your reward shall be to give them relief with your pretty mouth." I looked round the room and saw that nearly everyone was fully undressed now, many of the men - as my Master had said - splendidly erect. Now he took two more coils of the smooth, firm rope and bound my legs, just below my arse and just above my knees, twisting each turn into a figure-of-eight pattern so that it bit firmly into the delicate flesh of my inner thighs. I could stand only with his help, teetering unsteadily on my slender high-heels. He and others helped me to kneel upright on the soft carpet. With my face now at a lower level I felt as if I was surrounded by an honour-guard of beautifully erect cocks. That was the last thing I saw before my Master again pulled the blindfold out of his pocket and tied it firmly round my head. So this evening was to begin as that first, wonderful evening had done, when I had learnt so suddenly how to abandon shame and explore my sexuality, bound and sightless, forced - oh, so willingly! - to suck cock after cock, and my life had changed for ever. As the first anonymous erection bobbed against my lips and I opened them to draw the beautiful thing as deeply into me as I could, I remembered David and all he had taught me. How astonishing it had been when he first pissed over my face, and I had found, once again, that something I had imagined to be distasteful was in fact the source of intense pleasure! Hopefully I wondered if any of these men would fancy pissing into my mouth later on - well, obviously they were in no state to do it just now! The thought made me giggle, and the unexpected vibration in my throat and lips made my first lover of the evening spurt copiously into me, earlier perhaps than he expected. I tried to make it up to him by continuing to lick the sensitive underside of his cock, and by sucking the last drops of sperm from him, but he was soon pushed out of the way by the next in line. I took cock after cock into my mouth, trying to repay the pleasure they gave me by drawing them slowly and luxuriously into my throat, licking and sucking in the way I knew men liked best. Mostly they came inside me, but a few preferred to withdraw at the last moment and spray my face with their cum, the thick loops of sperm dripping off my cheeks and chin to spatter my breasts and the ropes which held them. At last there was a pause. Very daring, and not knowing which way to direct my question, I spoke to the crowd I sensed in front of me. "Oh, Master, has my mouth tasted your cock too?" I asked. "No, Slave," I heard his deep voice reply from somewhere behind me. "I have another use for your mouth first." His voice changed direction. "Help me arrange her on her back," he said to some of the other guests. Gentle hands first tilted me forwards and held me so that I could lie at full length without hurting myself, then turned me onto my back, placing a pillow beneath my head. I could feel that I was lying on a plastic sheet which had been spread over the soft carpet. That told me what was coming, and I was glad that I had taken the trouble to practice the evening before. I heard my Master's voice from somewhere just above me. "Open your mouth wide," he commanded me. I had no sooner done so than I felt it fill with a deliciously warm, salty flow. Oh, how wonderful this party was! It seemed I had only to imagine something I wanted done to me, and it happened! But this was no time for philosophy: I had to move fast. Before my mouth could overflow I began to gulp the liquid down. How I blessed David and his advice on training myself to do that! Somewhere in my mind I had a vision of the little teapot standing innocently in the corner of the bathroom at home. At last the flow turned to a trickle, wavered a little and splashed the last drops over my chin and breasts. Bound as I was I could do nothing to save them from running onto the plastic and then perhaps staining the carpet, but a gentle hand at once wiped me clean. There was applause from my audience. "Well done, Slave!" said my Master's voice. "Oh, Master, you are so good to me ..." I replied. The lengthy session of oral sex had tired me, and my jaw ached a little. They let me rest for a few minutes. I could hear more drinks being passed round; there were giggles and little screams - it sounded as if some of the female guests, and even the delightfully naked housemaids, were getting the benefit of the heightened sexual atmosphere in the room. At last my blindfold was unexpectedly removed, and I looked up, blinking in the sudden light. My Master stood over me, but he said nothing and I knew better than to ask questions. To my surprise he began to untie the ropes binding my legs. "Why are you unbinding me, Master?" I asked anxiously. "I love it so like that." "And we love looking at you like that, too," he said. "But now we are going to do something special to you, and we want to enjoy watching you wriggle." "Will I enjoy it too, this special thing?" "Oh, I think so. Oh yes, I am pretty sure you will enjoy this." "Master," I said anxiously, after a pause during which he continued to loosen the ropes round my thighs, "you won't do anything ... er ... _permanent_ to me, will you? I mean, anything that would leave a mark afterwards?" "Ha!" he said. "There's not much you can do now to stop us, is there?" Well, there wasn't, of course. What worried me was not so much the idea of being forced to have my nipples pierced or something like that - it was rather an exciting thought in fact - as the problem of hiding it from my parents. He seemed to read my mind: perhaps Tomoko and Shizue had told him about my family background. "Don't worry," he grunted, "when you go home to your mother there'll be nothing on you which she could notice in the bath." He had now finished with the ropes and spread my legs. My upper thighs felt cool where the air could at last dry the slick of cunt-juice which the sexual excitement of the last half-hour had caused to drip from my pussy. Some of the gobbets of cum decorating my face were partly dry and began to peel off, loosened by my movements as I spoke. "But how about _that_, then?" I heard him say. Other guests knelt on the carpet beside him and I felt his fingers delicately caress the valley between my legs, pointing out the little tattoos which David had had embroidered in the smooth dip above the big tendons of my thighs. There were murmurs of pleasure and surprise. "Oh, how _pretty_!" I heard a girl say. "I _must_ have something like that done!" "Yes," an older woman replied, "it's such a bore always having to _tell_ some stupid man what you want him to do." "Right - come on girls!" I heard a man's voice say with authority. Was he perhaps the owner of this house and therefore my host? I had been too busy to ask. I lifted my head a little from the cushion and looked from side to side. The pretty naked servants were handing out long candles of red wax, already lighted. I suddenly realised what they were planning to do, and my skin quivered in delighted expectation. Of course I had read about the candle-wax torture: it is sometimes mentioned in shocked tones in women's magazines, and has been described, very artistically, in novels by Japanese Nobel Prize winners. I knew that depraved old men liked to hire prostitutes or night-club hostesses to strip naked and let them dribble the molten wax from lighted candles onto their unprotected skin. Those who wrote in magazines about this perverted activity did so in terms of sympathy for the women, forced to endure such pain in return for payment. But of course the pain was the whole point, and they had missed it. I could see at once, without having to be told, that any girl of normal healthy sexuality - like me, _now_ - would adore having something so exciting done to her and that the "victim" was an eager volunteer. No doubt it made it more exciting for the men if she first pretended to resist, then begged for more of the exquisite sensation. They turned me onto my front, in the centre of the plastic sheet, and placed a sort of low stool under my shoulders to support me. My Master pulled firmly on the rope attached to my wrists, making me arch my back and hold my head up, so that those squatting near me could watch my face as the torture progressed. Many of the other guests were now gathered with their candles round my plump, inviting arse; others held cameras with which to record its progressive decoration with round splashes of hot wax. "Ready?" said an insinuating voice in my ear. "Oh, don't hurt me - _please_ don't!" I begged insincerely; then "Ohh!" as the first hot drips kissed my skin like burning feathers. My thighs and legs squirmed under the rain of wax, trying to give the impression of seeking escape but in fact eager for more of the lovely, random prickles of pain. I flung my legs apart so that my cunt and anus could get their share, and my tormentors, seeing what I wanted, competed to aim their candles accurately. An occasional lucky hit sizzled as it was doused in the love-juice now flowing unrestrainedly from my pussy. I could not keep up the pretence of resistance any longer. Tears of joy ran down my face as I gabbled and gasped my thanks, begging my tormentors to increase the speed of the burning rain. The insinuating voice spoke again. A woman's short fair hair brushed my cheek. "Are you enjoying it?" she drawled in my ear. "Oh, _yes_!" I gasped, "it's marvellous! Please don't let it stop!" "So far it's only been 'soft'. Are you ready for 'hard'?" she enquired, pronouncing the words Japanese-style as _sofuto_ and _hado_. "What is that? Will it hurt even more?" "Oh, yes - a _lot_ more!" "Then _please_!" I begged. She looked up and gave a signal. Much of what was going on around me I learnt only later from the photos and videos which were being taken. The stimulation of torturing me was too much for several couples, who had abandoned the show I was involuntarily giving them to entertain each other. One man was on his back groaning with pleasure as girls delightedly poured the burning wax onto his belly and cock. Maids were running up with fresh candles: one man, unable to get close enough to me, had taken one of the pretty, slender Filipinas by the waist and was dribbling his candle over her naked breasts and stomach while she giggled and pretended to object. Meanwhile I was finding out what my new friend had meant by _hado_: my tormentors were now holding what was left of their candles fully upside-down, so that the rain of hot drips turned into a torrent of liquid flaming wax over my frantically wriggling arse and thighs. A tidal wave of orgasm overwhelmed me and I came joyously and without restraint, squirming in helpless pleasure as the others watched and cheered. At last it was over. "Did you enjoy that?" asked my new friend. It was several minutes before my breathing returned to something like normal. "Oh, why did you stop?" I asked by way of reply. "Surely you have more candles!" She laughed. "Well, sorry, but you've used them all. I'm Suzy, by the way." "I was hoping," I said, still struggling for breath, "that you'd turn me over ... and do it to my breasts ... and my pussy ... my stomach ..." "Are your breasts very sensitive?" asked Suzy. "Yes, very," I replied, and then, impelled somehow to reveal a secret I had told no one before, "I can come just by stroking them." "Good, because we are reserving your breasts for something _very_ special later on. Now you must rest a little. You will need to be strong to bear the ... er ... thing we shall do to you next." Obviously I was not to be allowed to know in advance what the next experience was to be - only that it would be difficult to bear. "Oh, Suzy, this is so wonderful. Have you ever had the candle-wax torture?" "Yes, a few times. It's good," she said briskly. "But I prefer doing things to having them done to me. Now rest." I squinted back at my arse as best I could, admiring the random mass of coin-shaped drops and curving lines of red wax, already beginning to peel from my skin as they dried. Then I let my head sink onto the stool and waited while my beating heart slowed and the vestiges of my orgasm gradually left me. [Next in Part 16: Chapter XVI: Between Heaven and Earth] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams