UNFINISHED AFFAIRS 15 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 15 CHAPTER XV The Hundred-Fold Curtain Let us end where we began: with the remarkable Megumi, and another chapter that didn't make it into her memoirs. The determination with which Megumi pursues the extremes of sexual pleasure is rare even among Japanese girls. I am sure you will be glad to hear that, despite all her preoccupations as a wife, a businesswoman and an enthusiastic sex performer on video, in clubs and at private parties, she finds the time to model for some of the greatest bondage masters. The change of leadership at Marucho had to be announced and celebrated. Japanese companies like to do that by holding lavish parties at which the new President is introduced to the business community and the company's latest products are displayed. Now that Japan is suffering from a recession it is considered bad form to be too extravagant, but Mr Otani was determined that we should make the best show we could. And of course we already had the venue, the equipment and the girls contracted to work for us, so the extra cost would be minimal. Indeed Mr Otani hoped to make a special impression on our contacts and competitors, and show that we had full confidence in the future of our industry even in a time of hardship. He felt it was our duty to our fellow-citizens, and that we should present the sex industry in a positive way with all of us working harder and more sincerely than ever to improve the morale of a worried workforce. Naturally we girls in particular all agreed he was right, and promised to dedicate ourselves day and night to fucking before the cameras, in strip-clubs - wherever we could help improve the economic climate. Of course we enjoyed every moment of the extra work, but it was nice to feel that what we were doing was useful as well as fun. Mr Otani told me and Sammy he wanted to see us both urgently in his office to discuss the company party. We were in the middle of filming a sweet little fantasy in which we both played angels visiting the earth and finding we could not achieve take-off on our homeward journey without the energy imparted by vigorous multiple fucking. The Director gave us permission to leave the set to obey our boss's summons. There wasn't time to get out of costume and into ordinary clothes, so we stood in front of Mr Otani's desk wearing nothing but wings fixed to our backs and very sexy high-heeled boots with lots of straps round our legs. "You know I want you both to make a big effort at the company party tomorrow," he said. It wasn't a question: we already knew. "I am thinking of a very special display, involving the two of you together." "Of course, sir," I said correctly. "Lovely!" said Sammy in her relaxed Western way. "Whatever you say, Daddy. I hope you're thinking of something very sexy! And doing it with Megumi will be so nice." She looked at me lovingly and slipped her arm round my waist. As I have said, Sammy was very tactile in her behaviour. I liked it when she touched me, though I still had Japanese inhibitions about such things. In ordinary, social, off-stage contact, I mean of course. Mr Otani continued. "We are planning for our guests a sort of fantasy scene on the theme of bondage and discipline," he said. "When you say discipline," said Sammy, "you mean being whipped, caned ...?" "Well, pain, anyway," her father replied. "A still life, with both of you helplessly subjected to torture by an expert." "Ooh, how gorgeous!" said Sammy. "Megumi's taught me _so_ much about that. When I lived in America I couldn't imagine how a girl could enjoy it ... but now I just want to catch up on all the lovely things I've been missing!" I said nothing. I was shivering all over, knowing that whatever Mr Otani was planning would provide both a masterpiece of beauty for the spectators and hours of exquisite torture for Sammy and me, both of us trembling helplessly on the edge of orgasm. "I'm glad about that," Mr Otani was saying. "It's part of your Japanese heritage. You know, I think - well, Megumi knows, but perhaps you don't, Sammy - that bondage is not just a form of sexual stimulation - exciting for both the one who does the binding and the one who is bound. And the audience watching, of course. It is also an art form of great antiquity." "Wasn't it originally a method of police interrogation?" I asked. "Girls tied up nude to be tortured?" added Sammy, already excited at the idea. "Ooh, I'd _love_ that!" "Yes. The techniques were developed centuries ago. But of course, since Meiji things are different. Instead, the techniques of binding a girl have become an art with strict rules. In a way it's a bit like the samurai techniques of swordplay." Mr Otani smiled, and shifted quickly from being very Japanese to being very American. "They're no longer allowed to go about slicing people in half with their swords, so the movements and thrusts have been converted into _kendo_. The Way of the Sword. An art form, as I said. And also a sport." We nodded, and waited for him to come to the point. "So now we have the Way of the Rope - even though we don't call it that. So that the old traditions and skills don't die out." "And the Way of the Whip," I added. It was impertinent of me to interrupt my boss, but I couldn't help remembering his expert use of my favourite instruments. I felt Sammy's arm tighten round my waist. "Yes. The only difference being that the victims are willing volunteers nowadays, not prisoners." "But of course we act like prisoners, don't we?" put in Sammy. "It's more fun like that." "In our videos, yes. But you've never been to a demonstration of traditional rope bondage, have you? The victim is completely impassive and submissive, letting the Master use her as he wishes to create an object of beauty." "Isn't struggling and pretending not to enjoy it more fun?" asked Sammy. "I don't think so. One great Bondage Master explained to me that when he binds a girl she enters another world of extreme pleasure. The first time I saw him work I thought the girl had fainted. When he freed her at the end she was completely motionless. It worried me: I thought she was in a coma. But he said she was in a state of continuous mental orgasm." "It sounds _lovely_!" said Sammy enthusiastically. "Yes, I think it must be. The orgasm isn't caused by stimulating her body: the bondage has made the pleasure centres of her brain go into overdrive, and if she is not disturbed she can stay like that for hours." We stared at him in wonder. "As you will shortly find out," he added briskly. "Both of you. I've arranged for a great bondage _sensei_ to create something special out of you at our reception. Be there at least an hour ahead of time." "Yes, sir." "And now, back to work both of you." The filming of our "angels" fantasy was completed by the evening, leaving Sammy and me just enough time to get to our evening engagement. We were due to perform that evening at a big music-hall establishment in downtown Tokyo much frequented by factory workers. When our turn on stage came we entered happily together and helped each other strip. The audience were delighted at the opportunity to watch a _gaijin_ girl strip - not knowing that Sammy wasn't really a full _gaijin_ - and applauded enthusiastically. When we were fully nude at last we performed a nice lesbian scene before shyly stepping down into the audience, still nude of course, and thanking them for all their efforts to keep the economy going. It was two o'clock before we returned to our apartment, happily exhausted and glowing with virtue. The following evening we were ready at Marucho's bigger studio, where the party was to be held, long before Mr Otani's stipulated time. After the usual consultation with Matsumoto-san, we wore high heels and long gloves - I in silver, Sammy in gold - and were otherwise nude. As no one needed us yet, we wandered arm-in-arm round the studio, watching the bars and buffet tables being set up, and the tempting whipping-frames, fucking couches and other equipment being put in place. The workmen and scene-shifters occasionally gave us encouraging pats on our bottoms, but were mostly too busy to pay attention to us. At last we sat down out of everyone's way on one of the couches. Sammy put her arms round me and we were soon kissing and fondling each other. "Oh, I _do_ like ... putting on ... a show with you ... Megumi!" said Sammy, sucking my cunt-juice off her fingers with obvious pleasure. "Wasn't it _fun_ together at that place last night! Do let's go there again." I was just about to thank her for tickling my pussy by sliding down her body and licking hers, when I noticed Mr Otani coming in through the big doors with some visitors. I scrambled up off the couch, fluffed up the damp curls of my pussy hair, and ran to meet them, Sammy following. "This," said Mr Otani, indicating the tall lady with him, "is Aoi-sensei. And these," he added, changing to a suitably dismissive tone, "are Megumi and Sammy, your material for this evening." We bowed low before the _sensei_. Mr Otani had not told us the famous bondage master would be a woman. Not that there was any reason why she shouldn't be: Japan is quite a modern country, after all. Aoi-sensei was tall and handsome, aged about thirty-five perhaps. She turned towards Sammy first, giving me the opportunity to look at her without being rude. She was wearing a shiny black strapless bustier, matching black sleeves like long gloves but ending in loops round her middle fingers which left her hands free, and a long black skirt with a slit up the side revealing thigh-high boots. She wore her hair loose down her back. "A _gaijin_ girl!" she was saying as she looked Sammy over. "Partly _gaijin_," said Mr Otani. "Well, three-quarters _gaijin_. My daughter, in fact." "Well, well! How interesting!" said Aoi-sensei. "Are the two girls experienced?" "They've done quite a lot of bondage and discipline," Mr Otani replied. "On screen and off. But they will be new to the sort of sculpture bondage in which you specialise, _sensei_." She turned and looked steadily at me. I bowed again. "H'm," she said. "I've seen your videos, Megumi-chan. Very pretty." She reached out with one hand and fondled my breasts, then tweaked my nipples hard. I let out a gasp. It wasn't just the pleasure-pain of her touch. As her deep brown eyes held me, I felt myself tingling all over, trembling, my insides melting. I hadn't felt like that since my first meeting with Mr Otani on my eighteenth birthday. There was no denying it: I was in love. She was smiling at me. She knew, of course. Girls must be falling in love with her all the time. "I think you enjoy bondage, Megumi?" she said. "And pain - whipping, and so on?" "Oh, yes, _sensei_!" "Well, that's a good start. There'll be pain in what I do to you tonight, of course, a lot of pain which you will enjoy I think, but no whipping. I'm planning to turn you into a work of art. You will look very beautiful. It is a work I designed myself: I call it the Hundred-Fold Curtain." "Thank you, _sensei_." She leant forward and whispered to me. I could feel her breath tickling my cheek. "Are you sorry there won't be any whipping in my sculpture?" "No ... yes ... no ..." I replied, confused. "I mean, I shall be happy to do whatever you want ..." "I am sure you will be very good material," she murmured after a pause. "Your body is firm and shapely, and I think it is easily aroused. I shall enjoy binding it. If you are a success, perhaps you would like to come to my house some time? Just privately? I will teach you things about pain and submission even your Mr Otani hasn't taught you. Would you like that?" "Oh, yes, _sensei_! Thank you." It didn't surprise me that she knew about my relationship with Mr Otani. Nor did it seem odd that, on the brink of marrying him, I had fallen helplessly in love with this wonderful woman. My husband-to-be had made it plain that he expected me to continue my career acting in fuck videos, had promised that he would take me to sex-parties, and told me the company would want me to continue my guest appearances as a nude waitress and bargirl at high-class clubs. And of course there was all the extra work I was doing to help combat the recession. I expected he would go on having other girls. He would probably let me watch, and join in, when he did. I was ready for all that - was looking forward to it. It would surely leave me plenty of time and sexual desire to worship Aoi-sensei and be her adoring slave. As Mr Otani's wife, my function would be to be available whenever he wanted me and to fuck him as skilfully as I could. The more varied the sexual experience I could bring to his bed, the more satisfying my husband would find me - or so I reasoned. "Well, now," said Aoi-sensei briskly, "we must get to work. The costumes you are both wearing will be fine. They are strictly speaking a little tarty for classical bondage but we want the company's guests to feel sexual as well as aesthetic appreciation, don't we?" She smiled conspiratorially. "I will bind you, and my pupil will look after Sammy-chan." I noticed that she used the word _deshi_ which I see from the dictionary is "disciple" in English: traditional Japanese artists often call their pupils that. She turned towards the doors and called "Hiroko-san!" A girl, also tightly dressed in black, came in wheeling a sort of clothes rack from which many lengths of rope were suspended. After a moment I recognised her: she was the girl who had helped Ken and me film my sample video which had helped me get the job at Marucho. "You know Hiroko?" asked Aoi-sensei when she saw me greet her. "Yes - she was at college with a lover of mine ... she ... that is ... she gave me my first lesbian experience." I was anxious to show Aoi-sensei that she would not find me a complete beginner if she decided to take me into her own bed. She smiled at me, a little grimly I thought. I had the feeling that _sensei_'s sexual partners were required to submit willingly to treatment I had not previously experienced from a woman. I felt a little shiver of excitement. After all, was I not already her willing slave? "Well, if you are ready, let us begin," she said. "Oh, yes! Yes _please_!" She began by removing her long skirt and stood before me magnificent in her shiny black bustier, its lower end strapped between her legs, fishnet tights and over them high-heeled boots extending half-way up her thighs. She smiled at me, enjoying my admiration. "It's easier to work like this," she said; then "Can we have the bars lowered please?" she called to an unseen technician. Two heavy steel bars, chrome-plated and glittering in the studio lights, slowly descended from the ceiling. On Aoi-sensei's instruction I lay on my front on a sort of trolley while she bound first my arms behind my back, then my legs tightly together, and finally loops of rope supporting my chest and stomach - always taking the ropes round the bar so that I was helplessly fixed to it from the neck down. I was vaguely aware of Hiroko doing the same thing to Sammy with the other bar. When _sensei_ was satisfied she inserted a pair of nose-bondage hooks into my nostrils, tying the other end tightly to my ropes so that I was forced to hold my head up. Her hands caressed and explored my body, sending thrilling waves of sensation through me. Suddenly I felt her fingers enter first my arsehole and then my cunt, inserting vibrators deep into each. At least I assumed they must be vibrators, though they were still and silent for the moment. "Very nice!" said Aoi-sensei, admiring her handwork. "But of course that's just the beginning. Up!" she called to the technician; and I felt myself lifted till my face was level with hers. The trolley on which I had been lying was wheeled away. "Now, Megumi," she said, "I want you to see what I am going to make of you. Look at this." She held a clamp before my eyes. It was shaped like the sort of clothes-peg often used to stimulate a girl's nipples or cunt-lips in bondage sessions, but with an extra strong spring and serrated metal jaws: a type made specially for sex-shops catering for sadists and masochists. "You've experienced these before, have you?" "Oh, yes!" I said. "They're _lovely_!" "Well, these are specially strong, and there'll be a lot of them. Now look at this." Tied to the handle of the clip was a thin strand of iridescent plastic thread, over two metres long and ending in a little metal weight. "Do you remember what I called the work of art I plan to make of you?" "Yes, _sensei_. You called it the Hundred-Fold Curtain." "Exactly. So there will be a hundred of these clips, and the strings suspended from your body will form the curtain. On one side, that is. And the same thing attached to your friend. Now, shall we begin?" Without waiting for an answer, _sensei_ began to fix the clips: to my nose, my lips, my chin, my breasts - lots to my breasts, ooh, lovely! - in a close-packed line along my stomach, to my cunt-lips and clitoris - oh, heavenly feeling! - along my legs, and finally one to each toe. The reinforced jaws bit lusciously into me: they were a long way short of giving me an orgasm but stimulated my sensuality with endlessly exciting possibilities ... "Oh, thank you _sensei_!" I said carefully, trying not to dislodge any of the clips, when she returned to my head. She just smiled, and instructed the technician to raise the bar further. I was flying near the ceiling now, each clip supporting the full weight of the thread and the weight which just skimmed the floor. But _sensei_ had fixed them well and they all clung on firmly. It was a little while before Sammy was raised on her bar to join me: she told me afterwards that Hiroko had been less skilful in applying her set of a hundred clips and a few fell off and had to be replaced. Our faces were close to each other, but we did not speak: each was revelling in the delightful sensation and knew well what the other was feeling. I had already guessed that the vibrators inserted into our cunts and arses were remote-controlled. The two shimmering curtains suspended from our bodies formed the entrance to the main reception area, and as each guest approached he was invited to press a button on the remote which sent waves of stimulation, supported by electric shocks, through us both. That of course made us wriggle, to the limited extent possible in our tight bonds, adding - as I know from the videos that were taken - a beautiful rippling effect to the curtains. Having enjoyed the lovely work of living art which Aoi-sensei had created, each guest then pushed his way through the curtains to join the party. After about an hour of this delicious experience I began to feel something strange happening to me. It was not the feeling of floating freely away from my body which an expert sadist can grant me with his whips: it was rather a sensation of intense and endless orgasm which took possession of me and seemed unrelated to the relatively mild stimulation I was receiving from the vibrators and clamps. When at last the guests had all gone and Sammy and I were lowered to the floor, I was hardly aware of Aoi-sensei freeing me from my bonds. The orgasmic feeling continued unabated and I wanted - oh, so much! - to hold it in my mind for ever. She lifted me in her strong arms and supported me to a couch. At last the sensation began to ebb, and I found myself held in her arms. "You don't have to tell me, dear," she said kindly. "We call it a mental orgasm. Your first, wasn't it? You're very lucky. Only a very few girls can achieve it." I vaguely remembered Mr Otani telling me - when was it? Only yesterday? - that such a state could be induced by the bondage experience. Something about complete subjection of the body stimulating the pleasure centres of the brain. "You will come and see me in my studio, won't you?" Aoi _sensei_ continued. "Now that I know you have the gift ... I will teach you how to enter that state and stay there as long as you wish. Some of my pupils can remain in orgasm for hours. Of course you have to be tightly bound first, nude except for the ropes and unable to move. I will bind you before the most expert audiences in Japan, and make you into a beautiful work of art, while you enjoy endless mental orgasm. Will you come?" "Oh, yes _sensei_! _Yes_!" [Next in Part 16: Afterword] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams