UNFINISHED AFFAIRS 07 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 04: UNFINISHED AFFAIRS BY BOB WILLIAMS ASSISTED BY MEGUMI, CHIYOKO, HANAKO, SAMMY, HIROKO, NATSUKO, SACHI, MAKI, YUKI AND AYAKO PART 07 CHAPTER VII Modern Technology I wrote this story for an American magazine which was doing a special issue on technological gadgets: contributors were asked to predict what might be available in a few years. So I put my imagination to work. It wasn't difficult, since I already knew that Japanese girls are devoted to two things above all: sex and their mobile phones. The editors turned the article down. I suppose they thought it was too frivolous. Hiroko is based on several delightful girls I was going with at the time. Perhaps the editors didn't believe such girls existed. We who live in Japan know better. "I think they've grown a bit since you saw them last," said Hiroko with a flirtatious smile. She took off her bra and dropped it on the chair on top of the blouse of her school uniform. "Come over here and let me check," I said. I have a special method of measuring girls' breasts. It has nothing to do with tape-measures and stuff like that. It depends on how well they fit into my cupped hands. She stood close to me, her bottom wriggling against my cock through the thick school skirt as I fitted my hands over her firm young breasts. "Yes, maybe just a _little_ bigger," I said judiciously, allowing her hard nipples to peek out between my fingers and squeezing them lightly. "D'you think they'll grow any more?" "Oh, I do _hope_ so!" said Hiroko. "(Oooh, that feels nice. Squeeze harder.) I want to grow really big breasts, firm and not sagging, like the girls in the _manga_ pictures." Like all sex-obsessed Japanese girls, Hiroko got a lot of her information on sex and on ideal feminine beauty from pornographic cartoon magazines where girls had implausibly perfect bodies and were endlessly fucked and whipped to orgasm in ways that fuelled a nation's masturbation fantasies. "Well, remember what the wise Frenchman said. More than a handful is too much." She giggled. "You've got nice big hands." She pulled away from me. "Shall I change now?" "Yes, please." Unlike many men in Japan - Japanese and resident _gaijin_ too - I don't have a fetish about school uniforms. Schoolgirls, yes; but I like to see them dressed prettily as precocious little tarts, rather than in their sailor suits, socks and flat shoes. Hiroko went off to investigate the closets where we kept the items her school and her parents weren't supposed to know about. Hiroko and I hadn't been lovers for long. She came to see me from time to time after school in my big Akasaka penthouse apartment, and we had lovely times together, but we neither of us felt the need to be faithful or exclusive. It was more than ten years since I had first come to Japan from the US and started earning my living, first as a teacher and then as a writer about the exotic country I lived in. Life, and Japan, had been good to me. My in-depth accounts of the Japanese sex industry were sought after and brought me a good income; and the flow of delicious teenaged girls sent to me for private English classes also paid well and provided me, free of charge, with all the sex I could handle. My connections with the sex industry meant I could introduce them to studios with an insatiable appetite for fresh young nude models and porn actresses: the girls' gratitude to me for fulfilling their fantasies enhanced my sex life and the studios' commissions added further to my bank balance. Hiroko came dancing back to me, wearing only a microskirt in a red plasticated material which crackled sexily as she moved. It was moulded tightly to her bottom in a fashionable style I very much approved of. She might have been wearing panties under it but I didn't think so. She was naked above the waist: there was no doubt her breasts _had_ grown recently. "Heels!" I said sharply. Japanese girls have a funny relationship with shoes. Away from home they wear the sexiest and smartest shoes imaginable; but as soon as they enter a domestic environment they feel obliged to take them off and slop around in slippers as their ancestors did. Judging by my extensive collection of porn videos Japanese men like them that way. I suppose it makes them look soft, cuddly and vulnerable. I have to keep reminding my girls that we perverted _gaijin_ like to see our girls in the highest and most impracticable heels - especially when they aren't wearing anything else.[7] Hiroko went back to the closet and put on a pair of high black stilettos with laces which tied in a nice fetish bow round her ankles. We had bought them together a few weeks ago in Asakusa. As she teetered towards me I could feel my balls itching: I couldn't decide whether to fuck her first or whip her. If I asked her which she preferred she would want both, bless her. And either would mean telling her to strip off the sexy red skirt. I was enjoying looking at her in that, and decided to spin out the pleasure a little longer. From another drawer I pulled out a rope. It was quite old, with frayed ends, and constant use had made it soft and flexible. When I thought of the hundreds of girls whose delicate flesh had submitted to the rough kiss of this hempen lover - well, I really began to feel quite sentimental. "Oh, yes, _please_!" said Hiroko, her eyes lighting up with lust. She stood close to me as I doubled the rope and hung it round her neck, tying knots where the strands would pass between her breasts. Quickly I passed them tightly round her chest, caging her breasts in an open bra of rope. It is a simple piece of bondage, but very effective in stimulating the mutual desire of both partners. I had had the pleasure of introducing Hiroko to both bondage and whipping, and she was now delightfully addicted to both. Again, I had the _manga_ cartoon magazines to thank for that: she had brought me a well-thumbed example showing a beautiful girl being tightly bound and then sadistically whipped with a knotted cat-o'-nine-tails, and asked me to enact the story frame by frame. She had loved every moment of it and kept begging for more. "Oooh, lovely!" she said, admiring herself in the mirror. "Are we going out later? Can I go like this?" The thought of showing Hiroko off in the fashionable streets of Tokyo wearing nothing but her rope and her red microskirt was very arousing. But a foreigner must be careful not to provoke the authorities if he wants to be left to fuck his girls in peace. "Yes, but you'll have to wear something over the top," I said reluctantly. She made a face at me in the mirror, then changed the subject. "Now that I'm sixteen," she said, "how many lovers do you think I ought to have?" Hiroko had been brought to me shortly after her sixteenth birthday, with the usual request that I perform a miracle on her English. There were other things I wanted very much to teach her as well; but I am always cautious about introducing the subject of sex to my pupils. One false move and they can be taken away from me, leaving me with neither the income nor the pleasure. Fortunately teaching English conversation means you have to talk about lots of things, and it isn't difficult to edge the discussion round to the girl's sexual fantasies and dreams for the future. In Hiroko's case I needn't have worried: she was as keen to seduce me as I was to have her; and I soon discovered she was already an accomplished little fuck. She needed only to be made a little more polished and varied in her sexual interests. A wider choice of lovers could only help, so I thought carefully before answering her question. "You mean regular lovers, or including one-offs at parties and so on?" "Well, I was thinking of regular lovers like you - but sex at parties is beautiful too, isn't it?" "Yes." "I've been so busy with schoolwork it's been ages ... the last time was when you took me to Kato-san's house." She was referring to Megumi. Megumi was a very special person in my life. I had met her ten years ago, when she was a promising young porn starlet under contract to a film studio called Marucho. In due course she had married the boss, but we had remained friends and occasional lovers. Now she was in her late twenties she had largely given up acting and concentrated on helping her husband run the company. Their sex-parties were famous, and were an opportunity for the studio to display its new talent and for young hopefuls like Hiroko to show what they could do before an expert audience. Hiroko had done very well, removing her dress like an expert stripper and fucking skilfully and enthusiastically all evening. "That was _so_ lovely ..." Hiroko continued. "But you haven't answered my question." "Well," I said thoughtfully, "for a girl of sixteen ... I'd say, maybe, ten or a dozen regular partners would be normal. Plus whatever sex she gets at parties or on camera, of course." Hiroko looked at me provocatively. She clearly wasn't going to let me know if I had over- or under-estimated her current stable. "Anyway," I said, "I haven't seen you for ages, so I hope you've been getting plenty of sex elsewhere. And now I have a little present for you." I handed her the parcel I had prepared. She tore off the paper eagerly and opened the box. "What is it?" "Well, it's a pair of vibrators ..." I said. "Yes, I see. Thank you. I have several like this ... but I'm sure these are special!" she added hastily. "Well, yes, they are rather. They're based on the latest mobile phone technology." "Aren't there any wires or batteries?" she asked, looking more closely. "Let me show you." Both looked rather like the little torpedo-shaped vibrators of the kind many Japanese girls wear inside their neat tights and dainty panties, giving themselves gentle pleasure when travelling to and from work or during boring hours at the office. One, the bigger and fatter one, would fit snugly inside her cunt while the narrower one would comfortably fill her arsehole. Both had blunt plastic spikes protruding from one end, acting partly as handles for adjusting and removing them; but, as she had noticed, they had no wiring connecting them to battery packs. They were in fact the product of the latest developments in miniaturised batteries, as well as of mobile phone technology; somehow the designers had found a way of packing several hours of power into the vibrators themselves. "Where are the switches?" she asked. "There aren't any. They work by remote control." "That sounds fun." "Try them, I said. "Just slip them into your pussy and arse." She lifted her red microskirt. No, she wasn't wearing anything underneath. The little silver gadgets vanished smoothly inside her. "Now what?" she asked. "Go and look out of the window." Puzzled, she did what I asked. When she was distracted by whatever was going on outside, I reached for my mobile and punched in a speed-dial number. "Ohhh!" she said, spinning round to face me with her hands flying to her cunt and bottom. "But that's _wonderful_! You mean ... I can turn them on whenever I want by pressing a number on my mobile?" "No. You haven't understood at all. _I_ can turn them on by pressing a number on _my_ mobile." Her face, as she took in the implications, was a delight. I pressed the "cancel call" button and the vibrators stopped. "But you could give me the number." "I could. But I won't." "You mean ..." "I mean that wherever I am - anywhere in the world - I can switch them on for you. You will never know when to expect it. You'll just know that somewhere I am thinking of you and loving you. And you'll just have to keep it a secret and somehow pretend nothing is happening to you." "Oh! I _love_ it! I love it!" she said. "I'll _never_ take them out. I promise they will always be inside me ... in my cunt and in my arse ... oooh ... waiting for you to think of me and tell me you're wanting me! And ... just think what fun it will be if you set them off during a boring lesson or when I'm in front of a teacher, and I nearly have an orgasm!" "The way you squeal and wriggle whenever I stroke your pussy, you'll have a problem not giving yourself away." "But that will be part of the fun!" "You'll have to take them out to recharge them," I said, being practical and handing her a bag containing the charger. "Oh yes. And," she added with a teasing smile, "when one of my other lovers is fucking me." "Naughty!" I said, just as she expected me to. "That's earned you quite a few strokes from my whip." "Oooh!" she said, rubbing her body against me. "Nice! Can I have them now?" "No. I want to look forward to it." "You could whip me now, and then look forward to whipping me again later." "I prefer to think of you not getting it and building up an appetite." "I'll just have to ask one of my other lovers to whip me, then ..." she said vaguely. "But ... why don't you give me the mobile number? I promise never to use it myself. I was just thinking: I could give it to those ten or a dozen lovers you were telling me I should have, and ask them to call me sometimes too. Wouldn't that be nice?" "How could you tell who was calling?" "Well, I wouldn't be able to, would I? But that wouldn't matter ... just as it doesn't matter which of you is fucking me so long as you all fuck me well." "Slut!" I said, pretending to be angry. "And ... oooh, I've just had a marvellous idea!" "Yes?" "Can you ... yes, can you make a conference call on that thing?" "I suppose so." "And if all the girls in the class were wearing these ..." She looked at me, her eyes dancing with excitement. "And I made a conference call ..." "And we all had an orgasm together - now that really _would_ be a sexual revolution! Nobody could possibly control us!" "Except me," I said. "_I_ would be the one controlling you." We looked at each other in wonder. "Suppose ..." I said - "Suppose ..." she said - "Suppose ..." we both said, "every girl in Japan bought a pair of these ..." "Yes," I said. "You know how fashions catch on among you girls." "And someone pressed the button, and every girl in Japan suddenly started screaming in orgasm ..." "It would be like an earthquake!" It was an awe-inspiring thought. "Now you really have earned yourself a whipping," I said firmly. "And a hard one. Take your skirt off, but leave the rope and shoes on." She immediately began to unzip the little skirt. "Slowly," I instructed her. "Remember what I taught you. How to be a successful stripper." She took off her skirt very successfully, so far as I was concerned. Hiroko was keen to make her debut at a strip-club and I had taught her the basic moves. She finished with a pretty little gesture of throwing her panties into the audience - which she had to mime as of course she wasn't wearing any. "Good. Now, you know where to go, don't you?" "Oooh, yes! Your special room, with all the lovely equipment!" "That's right. I've left the door unlocked. Wait for me there." "Please don't make me wait long. I want it _so_ much!" She skipped happily out of the room. I waited till I judged she was standing nude within the whipping-frame, waiting eagerly for me; and then I called the number again. FOOTNOTES [7] Dr William A Rossi, in _The Sex Life of the Foot and Shoe_ (1976; new edition 1993), describes how "When worn by women, the high heel sensuously alters the whole anatomy," and concludes: "High heels may well be the most potent aphrodisiac ever concocted." Marilyn Monroe once said, "I don't know who invented the high heel, but all women owe him a lot." So do all men ... - B W [Next in Part 08: Chapter VIII: Natsuko: The Rock-Hard Club] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams