We_Always_Do_It_For_Real.11 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 01: WE ALWAYS DO IT FOR REAL BY MEGUMI KATO AND BOB WILLIAMS PART 11 [CHAPTER VIII CONTINUED] I discussed the whole project with Ken, of course. Filling in the form was easy. I gave them my measurements, told them my hobbies and when I had lost my virginity, and wrote down the colour of the panties I usually wore.[6] For the stills, Ken borrowed a Polaroid camera from his college, but we weren't pleased with the results. The prints were too small and somehow didn't bring out the detail we had hoped to see and wanted to show the company. So we used the Polaroids just to check that the angles and lighting were right, and then took the final versions on ordinary 35mm, hoping that the studio experts would be satisfied with the results when they processed the film. Ken took a lot of nude photos of me of course. For the clothed shots I mostly wore the skimpy, kinky outfits Ken and I had been buying together, but in case the studio were interested in something more innocent I included a few of me looking demure in a bra and panties or even fully clothed. Even so, I made sure all my skirts were as short as possible: after years of the frumpy, long, navy-blue skirt which was part of the sailor-suit uniform laid down for girls by my school, when I was out of class I always showed off my legs in miniskirts and the highest heels I could manage. Thank the Gods I never had the thick, dumpy legs of a typical immature Japanese schoolgirl - though I must admit some porn fans do find the schoolgirl look arousing. The first part of the video was easy. Ken borrowed a camera from his college, and we filmed the scene dozens of times: full-length from a tripod for my strip, then closing in slowly as I relaxed onto a convenient mattress with one hand stimulating my nipples and the fingers of the other disappearing up my pussy and arse, getting more and more unrestrained as I brought myself to a climax. Finally, I gave Ken the heap of videos and told him to watch them when I wasn't around: the one which most made him want me in person would be the master version onto which we would record the second and third parts. Filming ourselves fucking turned out to be much more difficult than we had imagined. It was easy enough to set up the camera on a tripod, watching us as we performed on Ken's bed; but the result was boring. We needed frequent changes to the camera position, and at crucial moments close-ups were essential if the spectator was to share properly in our pleasure and excitement. We tried scripting the fuck precisely, breaking it into short scenes and stopping after each one to adjust the camera: that didn't work either. We weren't professionals and had not learnt their skill of maintaining sexual arousal regardless of the interference and delays of technicians. In the end Ken said he would have to ask a friend from college, studying to be a cameraman, to do the shooting for us. I gasped a bit at this idea: I know it sounds absurd, but fucking in front of complete strangers was still an idea I had to get used to. When I thought about what Ken had said, however, I soon found it excited me, and the excitement quickly overcame any shyness I still retained from the days before I made my big career decision. Ken's friend, Yasuo, came to see us to discuss our plan and block out the scene. In fact we were able to use most of the detailed script we had worked out for our earlier attempts. We also agreed that we would have to spend some money and shoot the scene in a love-hotel: Ken's apartment was simply too small and shabby to provide an acceptable background. I asked Ken afterwards what Yasuo was getting in return for all this work: he would only refer mysteriously to "valuable experience". Love-hotels are cheaper in the daytime, so we met late one afternoon just as soon as I could get out of school. We had booked a room for two hours. To my surprise, Yasuo turned up accompanied by a friend, a thin, silent girl with glasses called Hanako. He said he needed her to help him with the camera. I didn't argue; I was committed now and in any case we needed Yasuo's co-operation. The original idea had been to lead straight into the fuck scene from the first part of the video in which I stripped and masturbated to orgasm. With the change from Ken's apartment to the hotel room that wouldn't work, of course, so we made the scene self-contained. I was to be a bar-girl and Ken my customer: I was dressed in a red plastic microskirt and a top which tied together under my breasts, leaving plenty of bare tummy in between. Yasuo filmed us coming into the room and kissing passionately: then Ken removed my clothes while I snuggled sexily against him. He had been a bit worried that, with others present, he would not be able to get an erection, but I knew well enough by now what movements and poses of my nude body he found most arousing and he soon forgot he was on show. We went through a full if conventional repertoire: I helped Ken out of his clothes and sucked his cock; then he licked my pussy as I lay on the bed, and finished by fucking my cunt from behind. Finally Yasuo moved the camera in close to show the cum dripping slowly from my pussy.[7] We came to a reasonable climax, though I was only partly satisfied. Displaying myself so shamelessly to the camera had excited me far more than it had Ken, and I needed another orgasm to relieve the sexual tension I had built up. A moment later the bed shook and I suddenly realised that Yasuo had removed his clothes and joined us. He turned me onto my back and knelt over my face, thrusting his erection at my mouth. I pulled him towards me and took it gladly: if this was the "valuable experience" Yasuo wanted as payment for his work he was welcome to have it, especially if he helped me to the further orgasm my aroused body was demanding. With him sitting on my face I could not see what Ken was doing at the other end of me. There was movement on the bed between my legs and I felt a tongue beginning to lick my pussy again, and lips sucking up the mixture of my copious juice and Ken's sperm. I knew Ken's pussy-eating technique pretty well by now and this was different: it was an expert performance by someone who knew exactly what my aroused cunt was begging for. I suddenly realised that it could only be Yasuo's girlfriend Hanako. I had never had sexual contact with a lesbian before and had always thought I would dislike it. Not at all! This was yet another wonderful first-time experience to treasure in my memory alongside my first self-induced orgasm, my first happy fuck with Ken, even my first experience of watching Miss Takahashi. Hanako's marvellously skilful attention to my needs, licking me delicately then switching without warning to rapid stabs with the hardened point of her tongue, soon brought me to a shattering climax in which Yasuo joined, sending spurts of creamy cum into my willing mouth. As soon as Yasuo had climbed off my face I thanked Hanako, giving her the kisses I knew she wanted, sharing Yasuo's sperm with her, letting her rub her breasts and pussy against me until she too was able to climax in the lesbian fashion she seemed to like best. When we had all recovered we watched the results on the hotel's video machine and were well satisfied. Ken had silently taken over the camera from Hanako when she had started sucking me, and the whole sequence - even if it was not what I had thought we were planning! - fitted together beautifully, with very professional camera angles and close-ups. It was certainly much more than Marucho had requested me to do. Even Hanako, as silent and withdrawn as ever, seemed satisfied. Admiring myself on the video was making me feel very aroused again, but our time in the love-hotel was up. None of us wanted to part so soon after the intense experience we had shared, so we returned to Ken's apartment for a few hours of conversation and sex. I told Yasuo and Hanako how it had become my dream to be a fuck film actress. Hanako opened up a little and told me something about what it was like to be a lesbian: she said she was in love with my body, which I thought was sweet of her, so I undressed and let her do what she wanted to me, and teach me how to respond, while the two men watched our intimacies with their mouths open. We had made some progress, but had to decide how to tackle the third part of the video, in which I was to demonstrate my "specialism". I still had no idea what I should do to meet that requirement. The sex acts which Ken and I knew - 69ing, blow-jobs or him fucking me from behind, for example - seemed far too tame to please the experts at Marucho. Ken kept telling me that I should one day recognise my specialism when I saw it, just as I had recognised my vocation, but that wasn't much help. However, he was right; and once again it was Miss Takahashi who came to my aid when I most needed it. One evening Ken told me he had managed to get an uncensored copy of her latest video, in which, he said, she was performing in a new kind of sex scene - new for her, that is. He had a slightly odd expression on his face as he loaded it into the machine and I snuggled close to him to enjoy my idol's performance, and imagine that the nice things being done to her were happening to me. I soon found out why he was so excited. The story showed Miss Takahashi, playing an innocent girl of good family - an _ojosan_ or princess type as we say - employed as an assistant in a high-class jewellery store, being kidnapped and taken to a dungeon where she was bound and gagged. Her captors carefully removed her clothes - the smart tailored miniskirt, the spotless white blouse and pretty white lacy underwear of her store's uniform - then forced her to wear a shiny black bondage corset, high boots and long gloves. Her breasts and shoulders, her bottom and upper thighs, were naked; the rest of her was tightly covered in the shiny black plastic of her costume. Clearly the innocent girl had never dreamt of displaying herself in such an outfit, and was horrified when her captors let her see herself in a full-length mirror. Suspended by chains from the ceiling, teetering on the impossibly high stiletto heels of her thigh-boots, her gag removed so that she could plead pitifully with her captors for mercy, Miss Takahashi looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her before. I longed to be dressed, bound and helpless, like that myself, and was so enthralled that I hardly noticed my fingers creeping into my aroused pussy. The villain and his servants were merciless: she was to be tortured until she revealed the details they wanted of the store's security arrangements. Terrified, she watched the detailed preparations for her ordeal: the careful adjustment of her bonds to stretch her body tightly between floor and ceiling and display it as shamelessly and beautifully as possible; the cruel tightening of her corset; and the lascivious selection, as she was forced to watch, of the most vicious and flexible lash from the villain's collection of whips. He made her wait for it, telling her in his soft, sinister voice how dreadful the pain would be, explaining to her that any plea for mercy would merely prolong her agony. He warned her that he longed to hear her screams, and that the more she cried out the more she would excite him and the harder he would whip her. Meanwhile his skilful fingers were gently caressing her breasts, buttocks and cunt, arousing her as she stood before him helpless and unresisting. "_Please_ don't touch me!" "But you like it really, don't you?" "No ... no ... _please_ ... why are you doing this to me?" He explained that he was doing it to increase the contrast between the pleasure she was now enjoying, however unwillingly, and the pain she would shortly suffer. He promised that she would soon learn to enjoy the pain too, and to love the bite of the whip on her delicate flesh. He told her that from pleading for mercy she would soon enough change to begging desperately for ever crueller treatment. She was horrified, but somehow suggested through her acting that he was revealing the truth about secret longings hidden deep inside her which no one - not even she herself - had recognised before. He tormented her by seeming to start the whipping, then, when she was braced and ready for it, preventing the lash from ever quite touching her. With one part of my mind I felt terribly sorry for Miss Takahashi, who was surely about to suffer quite dreadfully - and for real, given her studio's policy. But I also continued to find the spectacle of her, bound and stretched so beautifully at the villain's mercy, extraordinarily arousing. I too was finding secret longings in myself and discovered to my astonishment that I wanted desperately to be subjected to the same horrifying torment. At last the lash fell on her beautiful naked arse. She screamed, and so did I: it was as if the whip had leapt out of the screen and struck me too. Again and again I felt with her all her pain as her torture continued. Suddenly, as the cruel lash caressed her yet again, the expression on her lovely suffering face changed. Following her performance so closely, I knew that she was beginning to experience pain as pleasure, and to long for it to continue. I knew, because that was what would happen to me: _had_ happened, on that dimly remembered occasion when a dominant man had cruelly beaten my poor bottom, _was_ now happening as I passed from torment to ecstasy in her company. The torment was not only the agony of the whipping; it was also the gradual revelation to her reluctant self, from under the layers of pretence and shyness, of her true sexual longings. And the ecstasy came from the final recognition of the truth about herself and her desires. The villain could not understand why his victim still refused to give him the information he was trying to torture out of her. It should have been obvious to him that, having carried out his promise to reveal her innermost secrets to her, and convert her to the ecstasy of pain, threatening to _stop_ torturing her would be more effective than whipping her ever harder! But no matter: he slowly brought Miss Takahashi to the most shattering series of climaxes. "Tell me the secret!" he said repeatedly in his sinister voice. "No - _no_!" said Miss Takahashi. "Do you want yet more torture, then?" he asked. "No, no - please no!" pleaded Miss Takahashi, meaning "Yes, yes - more, more!" "Yes, _yes_!" said I, her ardent fan, longing to feel what she was feeling. At last the scene was over. The villain and his servants brought Miss Takahashi to a sublime orgasm. Having failed to extract from her the information they sought, they let her go. Briefly we saw her the next day, once again primly dressed in her uniform, arriving for work. Only a dreamy look in her eyes told us that her life had changed for ever. Several times she reached for the telephone - then withdrew her hand. At last she made up her mind. "Please, sir, when may I come and see you again?" she said quietly and submissively to the man who answered. The End. Once again, Miss Takahashi's example inspired me and showed me what I must do. When the tape was over, I rewound it and watched it through again, feeling every stroke of every lash as the villain and his servants applied their full collection of whips to her lovely quivering body. This time I let it play to the very end, through the credits and up to the final frames with "Marucho Film Company" and then the slogan "We Always Do It For Real". Those well-known words finally told me what I must do. I looked at Ken with my eyes sparkling and my lips parted. "That is my specialism," I said. "Now I know. You were right. I recognised it when I saw it. That is what I want to do. Where can we buy a whip, and how soon can we start practising?" FOOTNOTES [6] Girls seeking jobs are advised to answer "white" to that question, as anything else would damage the cute, little-girl image corporate personnel departments prefer. But of course I wasn't applying to join an ordinary company! So after consulting Ken, I wrote - very daringly - "usually none, or whatever my lover likes best". [7] Of course you know from watching them that Japanese porn movies usually end with the man pulling out of the girl's cunt and coming over her breasts or face, or into her eagerly open mouth. Ken could not do that. He said his cock felt so good in my pussy that he could never pull out when he was on the point of coming. It was a delightful thing to say and I appreciated it - all the more as Japanese men don't often compliment their girls. But I will admit that a girl does look remarkably lovely lying there, having just enjoyed her orgasm, with her face prettily decorated with blobs and streaks of warm, fresh cum: "every one of them says 'I love you!'" as a sentimental girl-friend of mine used to say. Recently, browsing through a sex-shop, I found packets of artificial blobs of semen in translucent plastic which a girl could stick discreetly on her face and breasts when going to a party. Don't you think that's a _sweet_ idea? Of course I bought some - they've been a great success! [Next in Part 12: Chapter IX: An Application for Employment]