WORK IN PROGRESS 04 THE MEGUMI STORIES BY MEGUMI KATO AND FRIENDS VOLUME 05: WORK IN PROGRESS BY BOB WILLIAMS ASSISTED BY MEGUMI, NORIKO, FUJIKO, AYUMI, SAEKO, MARIKO, TAMA, MAIKO, SHIZUE, MIE, AYAKO, TOMO, YUU AND RUMI PART 04 CHAPTER IV The Trainee Being responsible for training beautiful girls for the Japanese sex industry is a wonderful privilege. They are so keen, these girls, and so gifted. Many have been dreaming of a career in the industry for years, ever since their sexuality first began to blossom - so they've been imagining it and fantasising about it all that time, longing to be eighteen and free from the cruel legal restraints on pursuing their ambition. All I have to do is help girls turn their fantasies into reality. Ayumi is one of the most gifted I have ever known. I was just getting into my stride, drafting an article about a new strip-club I had visited the night before. The words were coming easily, and it was a pleasure to remember, and describe, the lovely girl who had removed her clothes so provocatively and then invited favoured customers up on stage to satisfy their lust for her delightful nudity. Then the doorbell rang. "Oh, hell!" I said. For a moment I was tempted to pretend I wasn't at home and hope the visitor, whoever it was, would go away. But then I minimised the file on the screen, and went to open the door. A young girl was standing there. As soon as she saw me she let out a little gasp, and bowed low. I returned her bow in the slightly casual way appropriate to an older man, and a _gaijin_ man at that, disturbed at his work by a girl. She straightened up, and I decided I was glad I had put my work on one side. She was very pretty, even by the high standards of Japan, and was gazing at me with a sort of wonder. "I am Ayumi," she said. "I am sorry to disturb you, but I am here at the introduction of Miss Mie Takahashi and Miss Megumi Kato." She didn't wait for me to say my name, or even ask what it was. She had been sent to meet a _gaijin_ man: I was a _gaijin_ so obviously I was the man she was to meet. "You are welcome," I said. "Please come in. If it is at their introduction ..." "Thank you." She stepped up into the tiny hall and for a moment looked around for somewhere to leave her shoes; then became confused wondering if I had adopted that Japanese habit or not. I urged her not to worry and to enter just as she was. I guided her down the corridor and helped her out of her coat. She was a little flustered: Japanese men don't usually bother to help a girl with her coat. At most they just growl at her where to put it. I think they make a mistake: it provides an opportunity to break the ice with a little light touching. She was wearing a sweet but not sexy outfit under her coat: a white sleeveless top and a nice short skirt in pale blue which showed off her pretty legs - all the more so as I had encouraged her to keep on her smart white high-heeled shoes. I sat her down in the living-room and urged her to tell me what it was all about - though I had largely guessed already. I didn't offer her a drink as having to worry about a glass and where to put it was likely to make her even more uncertain and embarrassed. "I am a friend of Miss Mie Takahashi," she began at last. "Do you know her?" Well, of course I did or she wouldn't have been sending me letters of introduction. So I just said, "Yes. How long have you known her?" "Just two weeks. We met at a cafe on the Ginza. She has been so good to me!" I wondered if she realised she had been picked up. Probably not: Miss Takahashi would have done it so smoothly that an unsophisticated girl like Ayumi would never see that their meeting had been deliberate, not accidental. Miss Takahashi's appreciation of the beauty and charm of young Japanese girls, and her desire to help them develop their sexuality, were as great as mine. Had she taken Ayumi into her bed? Probably yes, though she didn't say and I did not intend to ask directly. "How was she good to you?" "Well, I told her all about my ambition to be an actress in, er, AV[8] productions ... you know she was a _wonderfully_ distinguished actress herself?" "Of course." "So she promised to help me ... and this morning she took me to see Miss Megumi Kato who runs a film studio called Marucho. You know her?" I just nodded. "Anyway, Miss Kato interviewed me, and was interested in my ambition, and I had to make a ... er, a little, you know ... er, test ... and she said she liked what I did and would offer me a contract, but not until I am eighteen." "Yes, Marucho are very careful to keep on the right side of the law." I didn't tell her there were plenty of less scrupulous companies who didn't care how young their models were so long as they were pretty, cheap, enthusiastic and tickled the lust of men who preferred underage girls. Ayumi would probably be glad enough to work for such studios and would see nothing wrong in it; but Megumi would not thank me if I sent Ayumi elsewhere and she lost her. "But she and Miss Takahashi both said I needed to learn a lot first. And they said you were a very expert _sensei_ who had trained lots of beginners like me, and I should come and see you." She began to hunt in her handbag. "I have these letters for you." The first was from Miss Takahashi, beautifully written in traditional vertical lines on handmade paper. I puzzled my way through the characters, skipping the introductory paragraph about the state of the weather and the time of the year with which an elegant lady like Miss Takahashi will always open a communication, giving the impression that her main reason for writing is to share with you the beauty of the blossom or the autumn foliage, until I came to the tell-tale "by the way" which introduces whatever it is that she is requiring you to do for her. It was much as I expected. Would I please do her the great kindness of giving some advice to Ayumi who would surely benefit from my avuncular guidance? The letter ended with news of sweet little Nozomi, one of Miss Takahashi's devoted girlfriends, whom she had given me as a present some months ago:[9] thus elegantly reminding me that I owed her a favour, and hinting that if I did what I was told other return favours like Nozomi would follow. The second letter was of course from Megumi. It was a quick businesslike note, written horizontally in ballpoint on a sheet of Marucho internal memo paper, asking me to put a new girl through a few weeks of training which would fit her for employment. She didn't need to explain what training was required for what sort of employment. I knew very well, though Ayumi perhaps did not yet appreciate, that a young starlet under contract to Marucho could hardly spend all her time before the cameras: she would be expected to pass her evenings deliciously nude at hostess clubs or striptease theatres, eagerly showing off her newly acquired skills and making sure all those who made use of her knew she was a Marucho girl and typical of the delights on offer in the company's video catalogue. "That seems all right," I said. "When can you start?" "Well, I ..." "What are your circumstances? Do you live with your family?" "I don't have much family," she said. "I live with my mother. I'm an only child. My father disappeared when I was young - I hardly knew him." Her eyes began to mist with tears: most Japanese girls are looking for substitutes for the fathers they hardly knew - or in Ayumi's case never knew at all. "I'm sorry," I said. "My mother has to work terribly hard to keep us both. And now that I've left school it's _so_ important that I get a job and start earning some money." "So your mother won't be wanting you home or fussing about where you are?" "Oh, no. Nothing like that. She knows I'm trying hard to earn money." "In that case you can come to me most evenings? So we can make progress on your training - this training that both Miss Takahashi and Miss Kato want you to have?" "I suppose so." "Come with me, then." I stood up and held out a hand to her. I made her precede me up the curving, open-tread staircase which led from my living-room to the upper floor, enjoying the close-up view of her pretty thighs and the occasional glimpse of white panties shining through her tights under her short skirt. Then I led the way into the big bedroom. I sat on the edge of the double-bed while she remained standing. "Right," I said. "Take your clothes off so I can see what you have." She looked startled at first, but then remembered what she was there for. Anyway, I was almost sure she had stripped a few hours ago in Megumi's office, and shown off her nudity without reserve to a Marucho cameraman and perhaps to other members of the company. She undressed neatly, but without coquetry: I made a note that the training I was planning for her should include instruction on how to titillate a man's appetite when stripping for him. She took off her sleeveless top and her little skirt, then removed her shoes and pushed down her tights. When she stood up again, in just her plain white bra and panties, I could see a pretty silver stud glittering in her navel. "That's nice," I said, flicking it gently with a finger. "Have you had it long?" "No, only a few weeks. It was a present from a boyfriend." "Have you any other piercings or decorations like that?" "No," she said sadly. "I want so much to have my breasts pierced - you know, have rings fitted to my nipples - but I don't think I can. I couldn't hide them from my mother." "Would that matter?" "Well, she was annoyed when she saw my navel-stud." "Doesn't she approve of girls being decorated like that?" "It wasn't that so much as the money it cost. She kept saying, if my boyfriend wanted to give me a present I should have insisted on money. When we needed money so badly ..." I was pleased to hear that, though of course I did not say so. A mother who understood the financial advantages to be gained from her daughter's sexuality was hardly likely to object to her absences from home being trained for a career in the porn industry. I gestured to her to continue undressing. She unhooked her bra and let it fall forward. Her breasts were lovely: full but youthfully firm, tipped with hard pinkish-brown nipples, without the big, blotchy aureoles which so often make a girl look vulgar and sluttish. "Very, very nice," I said, reaching up and fondling her breasts. "Yes, you'd look really beautiful with nipple-rings. We must do something about that. Are they very sensitive?" "Oh, yes!" she said, putting her hands over mine to keep them on her breasts. "I love having them stroked!" When at last she removed her panties and stood before me naked, I saw that her cunt-hair had been completely shaved. I slid a hand between her legs and stroked her cunt-lips with one finger. Her pussy was soft and smooth with no growth of stubble. I stroked her again and my finger travelled as far back as her anus. I felt rather than heard her gasp as the little hole resisted even the lightest attempt to enter. He would be a happy man, I thought, who was the first to penetrate that deliciously tight passageway. "Very nice," I said, releasing her. "Very nice indeed." I patted the bed beside me, and slipped my arm round her slim waist as she joined me. She snuggled up close and looked appealingly up at me. "Do you like it? My, er ... Miss Takahashi did it for me." "Did she indeed!" "Yes, she said men liked girls best like that. Without hair, I mean. Is it true? I do so hope it is!" "A lot of men do." "But you don't?" she said quickly. "Oh, yes. But some men like to see a bit of hair. Some even like a bushy pussy, with lots of disorganised hair. I don't. I can't stand getting hairs stuck in my teeth!" She giggled, blushed, and looked away. "If a girl has hair at all," I went on, "I like it to be neatly trimmed and tidy. Pretty curls that don't get in the way. And yes, I _do_ like girls with no hair at all. It makes them seem even younger. _Lots_ of men are crazy about that. As you'll soon find." "Yes," she said confidently. "Men with a _rorikon_." "And looking for a sweet young girl with a matching _fazakon_. You know all about that, do you?"[10] "Of course." She leaned back against me. My hands found her breasts at once and she purred with pleasure. "Do you have a _rorikon_?" she asked teasingly. "Do you think I could satisfy it?" "Of course I do. But I don't want it satisfied. Just tickled and teased and stroked. I want to keep it in good repair. I don't ever want to lose it." She thought for a little while. "You want to go on for ever, being - what did you say? - tickled and teased and stroked by young girls like me? Young-_looking_ girls with no hair?" Her hands began to tickle and tease and stroke me, showing that she understood exactly what I meant. "That's right. But you realise, don't you, that once you've shaved your cunt-hair you must go on shaving it? No one will want you with a lot of stubble. If you want to grow it again, you'll have to do without much sex while it grows; if you want to have plenty of sex, you'd better keep it shaved." "Yes," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. It means a lot of work. But I think I'd rather keep it the way it is now. With no hair. It feels wonderfully sensitive like that. Even _more_ sensitive, I mean, than it was before Miss Takahashi shaved it for me. Just feeling the air against it is lovely. So _exposed_ ..." It was time to impose some discipline. On myself as much as on her. "Now we must get to work." I said, standing up. "Lie properly on the bed." She wriggled into position, and propped her head and shoulders against the pillows. She looked extremely desirable. I hunted in the bedside drawers and pulled out a selection of vibrators. "Let me see you masturbate." She looked at me, startled. "You like to see that? Men like it?" "Of course. We love to see girls come." Her fingers began to caress her breasts, tickling the sensitive nipples, running her long decorated nails lightly against the firm curves and along the valley between. For a while she kept her eyes on my face, trying to gauge if she was pleasing me. Then one hand wandered down to her crotch, her legs parted and a long finger began to stroke her sweet little clitoris. Her eyes closed and she began to moan: I was forgotten in her enjoyment of the waves of pleasure chasing each other through her body. Her fingers began to enter her pussy, calling forth the first flood of love-juice glistening on her shaven cunt-lips. I picked up the first vibrator, a simple egg, turned it on and pressed it into the hand which was stimulating her pussy. She accepted it and her fingers stroked the humming toy skilfully against her clit and her lips, before pushing it deep into her cunt. She was groaning now and tossing from side to side. Watching a girl bring herself to orgasm is always a lovely sight, and Ayumi was an experienced masturbator - it was clearly part of her daily routine. She seemed completely absorbed in what she was doing, but I caught an occasional glimmer of her melting brown eyes from under her long lashes which told me she already knew how being watched could add to her pleasure. Before she was too carried away I wanted to see her use a larger vibrator and switched on a big dildo, a vibrating and wriggling cock with an attachment designed to press delightfully against her clit. I took the hand that was stroking her breasts and closed the long fingers round the thick shaft. She opened her eyes a little wider and smiled happily as she saw what I had given her. Slowly she pulled the egg vibrator by its cable from its snug position inside her pussy, and inserted the dildo. A great sigh of happiness greeted the swaying head as it pleasured the entrance to her cunt and then began its slow journey of penetration. As the attachment made contact with her clit she wriggled it close so that the little pincer could seize her pretty love-button and treat it to the fullest stimulation. Harder and harder she pressed the toy into her cunt, as she began to shudder and groan. Sweat began to break out till her breasts and stomach were slippery and glistening. She was no longer thinking now about the pleasure she was giving her audience: she was on her way to the heaven of a young girl's shattering orgasm. She screamed in her joy and arched her back: she was now fucking the vibrator as if it were her insatiable lover - as of course it was. Cunt-juice was forcing its way out and oozing down the sides of the tight-fitting dildo. Then, as her screams reached their height and her hips stopped moving - then thrust forward - withdrew a little, thrust again - and again - spasms of liquid poured from her cunt and watered her crotch before trickling over her arsehole and dripping onto the sheet. Has she lost control of her bladder, I wondered? I soaked a finger in the liquid and sucked it. No, it wasn't piss: she was ejaculating. She was one of those rare girls whose cunts are drenched with a sweet, light fluid when they come. Lucky, lucky girl, I thought. And even luckier all those future lovers who will bring her to orgasm and be rewarded with mouthfuls of such delightfulness. At last she came down from the heights. Her breathing returned to something like normal and she pulled the vibrator from her cunt. "Ohhh!" was all she said - all she could say. "Good?" I asked. "_Wonderful_! I think ..." "Yes, what do you think?" "I think ... it was even better than usual ... because you were watching." "You like being watched?" I asked, knowing the answer. "Oh, yes! Of _course_!" She stretched out lasciviously; then smiled up at me happily. "Aren't you going to fuck me now?" "Not yet. I'm supposed to be teaching you things, remember?" "Don't you want to?" "Of course I do! But now you go and clean up, while I prepare for the next lesson." She climbed off the bed, stood up and stretched, and wandered off to the bathroom. As she turned on the shower I went over to the chest-of-drawers and began to hunt out items for her to wear. Soon she was back, draped in a big bath-towel. I helped her dry herself, then removed the towel. She looked delightfully pink and clean and innocent. "Now, listen," I said, releasing myself from her arms. "When I take a pupil like you, I think it's good if she has a uniform to wear for her lessons. Well, not a uniform really, because each girl is different. But an outfit which looks good on her and which she changes into as soon as she arrives for a training session." "All right," she said. "We'll start with shoes. They're very important." "Even, you know, indoors?" "Yes. I know Japanese have this strange relationship with shoes. But I think girls are at last coming to see that the right kind of shoes help them to look sexy." "So we don't take them off to make love?" "No. You used to, of course. But nowadays I think even Japanese men find it difficult to feel much lust for a girl slopping around in fluffy slippers. The pretty girls in Japanese pornography are more and more showing themselves off in sexy high-heels - have you noticed that? I think it's great. Now, let me see what I have for you." I opened the closet where I kept items bought for the many girls I had helped and trained. Ayumi's eyes opened wide as she saw the treasures it contained. After some hunting around I found a pair of silver sandals with very high, slender heels in transparent plastic. "I wonder if you can manage these," I said doubtfully. "They may be a bit too high for you." As I hoped, she saw my doubt as a challenge. She sat on the edge of the bed and I helped her put the shoes on. They were a delightfully snug fit and emphasised the pretty curve of her little feet. I helped her as she walked in tiny steps to the big mirror. "Can you see that shoes like these, even with nothing else, make you look sexier? _Even_ sexier?" "Yes. They do. Why is that?" "Well, they stretch and shape your legs. They make you walk in a way which men find arousing. And another thing. Have you noticed that when you come you tend to point your toes?" "No, I don't think I have." "Well, pay attention next time and you'll see. For some reason orgasm makes a girl's calf muscles contract. So walking on tiptoe is an unconscious signal of sexual arousal. That's why men like to see a girl in high-heels. It makes her look sexier. And that's why a girl likes to wear them: pointing her toes doesn't only make her _look_ sexier - it makes her _feel_ sexier as well." "I see." She thought for a moment. "Am I to wear anything else?" "Yes. I've looked out some, well - not clothes, decorations. Are you ready?" "Ooh, yes! Please." I had chosen a set of glittering steel cuffs and a matching collar. The metal was lined with soft white leather, and the edges clicked shut leaving no visible join - just the tiniest hole for the key with which I could unlock them, and a little flush-fitting D-ring which could be pulled from its socket for attachments. I fitted the cuffs round her ankles and wrists, and the collar round her neck: they were comfortable, so comfortable that they could have been made for her. I added broad matching slave-bracelets round her upper arms. The effect was delightfully erotic. "Ooh, yes!" she said, examining herself in the mirror. "Yes, they're lovely!" "I haven't finished yet," I said. From a drawer I produced a tangled heap of long, dangling silver ear-rings. I sorted out a pair with clips - Ayumi's ears had not been pierced - and handed them to her. Eagerly she put them on and tossed her head, enjoying the way they flashed and tinkled, the ends lightly brushing her shoulders. Another matching pair were fitted with hooks, so I attached one to the stud she wore in her navel. It dangled sexily down towards her clitoris. The other needed a little more length, I thought, so I found a short silver chain and used it to attach the decoration to the D-ring buried in her collar. It swung charmingly between her firm breasts, tickling the curves as it moved. "Oh, how beautiful!" said Ayumi, tearing herself away from the mirror and dancing happily round the room, her decorations swaying and flashing in the light. When I caught her again I held her in my arms, stroked her breasts and flicked the erect nipples. "I do _so_ want to have them pierced!" she said, just as I was about to suggest it myself. "Well, you shall. Soon. Really soon. But meanwhile we can do something temporary ..." I let go of her and showed her a little pair of nipple-clamps. Her eyes opened wide. Carefully I attached the pincers to her rock-hard nipples, and hung another long dangling earring from each. She examined herself in the mirror, transfixed by the beauty of her appearance. "Oh, _yes_!" she breathed at last. "But won't they fall off?" "I can make them tighter ..." I said. "Yes, please!" I made the adjustment. "Oh, that feels _so_ good! And looks so lovely! You _are_ clever!" "Now, listen," I said. "When you leave, I will unlock these things for you. I have the only key ..." "Can't I wear them always?" she interrupted quickly. "No. They are for your training. But when you arrive here for lessons, you come straight up here, take off whatever you are wearing, and dress like this. We'll mark a shelf in the closet 'Ayumi' and keep them there. They are your school uniform." She giggled delightfully. "Of course, for some lessons and practical courses we'll decorate you differently, but we always start with the uniform." "What are practical courses?" "You're not ready for those yet, but it's when I take you to parties, or let you perform at strip-clubs and so on." "You mean ... with everybody watching?" "Of course." "Oooh!" "Now come down to the living-room. I want to talk to you." "Don't you want to fuck me?" "Of course I do. But not yet." == "Tell me about yourself," I said. "What do you want to know?" "Everything. Well, everything about your sexual life so far. First experience, what you've done and haven't done ..." Ayumi wriggled, and blushed. "I'm about the same as other girls, I guess." "That's for me to decide," I said firmly. "I need to know all about you, if I'm to train you how to act in sex shows and videos - how to use your sexuality to drive men crazy with lust. You want me to teach you how to do that, don't you?" "Mm'mm. Am I driving you crazy with lust?" "Almost." I was lying back on the big leather sofa in the living-room, wearing only slacks. Ayumi was curled up partly beside me, partly on top of me. I was enjoying the effect of her pretty silver decorations; but the main objective of decorating her was not to stimulate my desire or that of others I chose to show her to, but to accustom her to the provocative power of her own nudity. "Well," she said shyly, "I was twelve ..." "What happened?" "I had begun to ... you know ... have sexual feelings, though I wasn't quite sure what they were. I had a best friend at school. She was only a few months older than me, but rather more ... you know ... advanced. We were inseparable. One day I felt very brave and asked her to explain the things that were happening to me. I knew she would know, that they had already happened to her. Why it felt so good to stroke myself in bed. Why I had this light hair beginning to grow between my legs." "Couldn't you have asked your mother?" "She was so busy with her work. And out in the evenings. You know, company entertainment ..." I knew. A female executive, especially one with a child, had to be even more devoted to the company's interests than her male colleagues - which was saying a lot. "And one day ... after gym class ..." "Yes?" "We were changing back into our uniforms. And I looked at my friend and saw that her breasts were a lot bigger than mine. And I said how lovely they were, and asked her would mine ever be as lovely as hers." "Yours had started growing?" "Oh, yes. But not as big. And she made me stand beside her while we compared, and then she turned me towards her and stood so that her breasts and mine were rubbing together. Ooh, that felt nice! I can still remember it. Of course I'd stroked my breasts but it had never felt as nice as that. I just gazed at her with my mouth a bit open and the next thing she was kissing me." "Was that nice?" "Fantastic! No one had done that before, boy or girl. But I didn't really know what to think. I just knew I wanted it to happen again, the kissing and the pressing together of our bodies, and to go on happening. But then some of the other girls saw what we were doing and started giggling and squealing, and then the teacher came to see what was going on, and anyway it was time for the next lesson." "And when did it happen again?" "After school. My friend and I usually met then, and when I asked her where we should meet that day, she said 'Let's meet in the gym. No one goes there after school.' So we did. And we kissed each other again, and held each other, and before long we were undressing and comparing everything - not just our breasts but our cunt-hair and the way our bottoms and waists and legs were developing. She told me how she masturbated and showed me how to use my fingers to do lovely things I hadn't thought of before. And ... and ..." "Yes?" "She told me about how pussy-juice came if you stroked between your legs the right way; and she stroked me to show me how, and it came for the first time. That was my first orgasm. Of course I nearly fainted; and when it was over I told her I loved her and she told me she loved me and we promised to meet every evening to love each other and enjoy ourselves even more." "How nice for you!" I said. She wriggled in my arms and twisted round so I could kiss her. The decorations hanging from the pincers attached to her breasts tinkled prettily and scratched my bare chest lightly. Then she was leaning back against me again, her thighs accidentally-on-purpose a little wider apart than before. I never refuse a delightful invitation like that, and ran a forefinger lightly along the petals of her cunt, stopping briefly to tickle her clitoris before returning to insert one finger-joint gently into her pussy. She sighed happily. "Well, of course I wasn't her only friend. And before long other girls came to join us. I didn't mind. I wasn't jealous. Some of the others seemed to like me too, and soon we were having quite big sessions, all of us completely nude, kissing and stroking and making each other come ... ooh, it was _lovely_!" "It sounds lovely. I wish I'd been there." She looked up at me and giggled, her eyes sparkling. She wriggled her bottom over my swollen cock. "Is that nice?" "Very." "Why don't you take your trousers off? Wouldn't that be even nicer?" "Yes. Later. Go on talking." "Some of the girls brought _manga_ magazines to share - you know, those thick books of pornographic cartoon stories - and we read them together and learnt a lot. Some of the stories were about lesbians, so we tried out the techniques illustrated there and that was even more lovely ... and of course there were lots of other wonderful stories showing girls being fucked by boys, and I wanted oh so much to know what _that_ was like! Some of the girls knew, or pretended they did, and we used to whisper together about how to get some boys to come and do those wonderful things to us." I slid my finger deep into her cunt, and added a second. She sighed happily. "That's nice." "And did they?" "What?" "The boys ... come and fuck you." "Well, we never did discover how they found out ... perhaps it was an accident ... but one evening a few boys walked in on us. For a while they were so astonished that they just stood there, frozen. And of course we were very startled too. Everything stopped. And I suppose that might have been the end of it, because we would all have screamed and rushed for our clothes and escaped before they could decide what to do. But my friend - she was recognised as the leader of course - looked up from the girl she was making love to, sat up and said, 'Come and join us!'" "Did she indeed!" "Yes. She was much the most experienced, you see, and of course she had boyfriends as well. Later I realised she must have told one of them secretly about our group, and arranged for him to come with a few friends and join us." "So what did they do?" "Well, a boy came to me and started by fondling and stroking me. I was nude, of course. I always went nude as soon as possible at our sessions - it felt so good being petted and stroked like that, and I was so used to it that I didn't feel it was odd or unusual to be nude for the first time ever with a boy. It was lovely when he stroked me - even nicer than when a girl did it - and of course I showed him the way I liked it best. Then I helped him undress and for the first time I saw a cock. A big, hard, erect cock ... oooh, it was so _beautiful_! It wasn't as big as the huge ones I'd seen in the magazines and been dreaming about, but it was still lovely. I was in love with that cock from the very first moment, and I've been in love with cocks ever since. Do you think that's very silly of me?" "No, of course not." "Why don't you take your trousers off so I can love yours?" I couldn't see any reason to go on refusing. Once I was naked, we settled down again, her clever hands stroking my erection and tickling my balls while she talked. "Of course I had to take it in my hands and stroke it, like I'm doing now, and the boy seemed to enjoy it. Then suddenly he started to groan and shout ... I thought I'd hurt him - it - and I was horrified. But he begged me not to stop and to go on stroking it, so I did and you know what happened next!" "He came." "Yes. All over my hands. Of course I knew girls made juice when they came, but I didn't know boys did too. Not really. And so _much_! It was lovely! The smell, the look, the feel, and above all the taste ... it was the most thrilling experience I'd ever had. Much more thrilling than my first lesbian petting and kissing, even though that had been fun. When I discovered how good it tasted, I licked it all up and begged him to make more for me. Then he explained ... and I was so disappointed ..." "That men have to wait a while between fucks?" She nodded, looking at me accusingly as if it were my fault. "You see, when we girls made love to each other, we never stopped. Of course we changed partners occasionally, but there was no need to wait for anyone to be ready ... we were _always_ ready. And somehow I thought that being fucked by a boy would be like that, only even better." I stroked her and petted her and tried to apologise for the inadequacies of my sex. The image of that eager squealing pile of nude girls, exploring each others' young bodies and bringing each other to constant orgasm for hours at a time, was dangerously arousing. Yes, I had been there myself ...[11] "Anyway, when he was ready again I went on stroking him, and of course I couldn't resist kissing his beautiful cock because I was so in love with it, and so I discovered from the start that the best thing to do with a cock is to kiss it and lick it and suck it." "But I guess you found out about cunt-fucking as well?" "Of course. But later. When that session ended we begged the boys to come and join us again. And of course they did. There were more of us than there were of them, and anyway quite a few of us girls wanted to go on doing it to each other the way we always had. But I had already decided that I liked making love to boys best. After all, girls don't have cocks! The next time they came I had I borrowed another girl's porn magazine so that I could show the boy I was with what I wanted him to do to me. I helped him get his cock into my cunt, and that was lovely too. But I think having cocks in my mouth is even better. After all, that was how I showed my love for my first one." "Have you ever had your arse fucked?" I asked. "Well, a boy did try, but he was clumsy and I didn't enjoy it much." "I won't be clumsy," I said. "I'm sure you won't be," she said, and leant forward to give my cock a kiss. "Ooh, would the lovely big cock like to come in my little arse?" she said teasingly, as if cuddling a kitten. "Will he force his way into my little hole and make it _so_ happy?" I was getting fairly close to orgasm, despite telling myself to wait, and decided I had better hurry with my next question. "Have you ever been tied up for sex?" I asked cautiously. "Or even ... you know ... slapped a bit on your bottom?" She was more advanced than I gave her credit for - at least in theory. "Whipped, you mean? Bondage? No. I know what it is, though: the girls in the _manga_ magazines sometimes do that. From the way they scream and beg for it I guess it's very nice. But I've never had it done to me." "Well, we'll soon put that right." "Oh, will you teach me?" "Of course," I said. "All part of what you've come here for." She stopped cuddling my cock and started stroking my chest, teasing me with the silver decorations dangling from her tightly clamped nipples. "Do you have lovely cruel whips with lots of lashes with little points on, like the men in the cartoons use?" "Yes," I said shortly, trying to keep myself under control. "Will you tie your poor little girl up so she can't escape and whip her with the lovely cruel whip for hours and hours and make her scream?" "Yes." "Oooh, beautiful!" "Yes, it will be. For both of us. Tell me," I added quickly, trying to take my mind off the pretty things she was suggesting, "when did you decide you wanted to enter the sex business? Be a fuck-film actress and all that?" "Well, obviously, I found I _loved_ sex. There was _nothing_ I wanted to do more. And the thought that I could make my living by doing it was so exciting! And another thing ..." "Yes?" "You see, when I found that girls and men are different - that girls want to fuck all the time but a man has to wait for _ages_ after fucking me before he can do it again - I suddenly thought: so a girl should have a series of men. Fucking me without stopping one after the other, the way I really like. Then back to the first man when he's ready again. So I spoke to a few of my boyfriends and they got together a group of friends and found a place where we could be private together, and we had some lovely long sessions of non-stop fucking. Non-stop for me, anyway. And doing it with a big group of men meant that when I was doing it with one of them all the others were watching. I _loved_ that! Sex was even more beautiful with people watching me do it. And then when I read in magazines about clubs where the girls are nude and fuck anyone who wants them in front of all the others, and film studios where girls are videoed fucking so _everyone in the whole world_ can watch - well, I said: that's what _I_ want to do!" "Well, you shall," I said shortly. "I'll teach you everything you need to know." "Oh, thank you!" "Now, show me you remember what those boys taught you about sucking cock." "Yes, _yes_!" she said, scrambling down to the carpet to kneel in front of me. "I've been _longing_ for you to fuck me! _Promise_ to come lots and lots! And in my mouth! I don't want to lose a _drop_!" She was good - _very_ good. It wasn't only the skill of her lips and flickering tongue: the love and enthusiasm with which she worked on my cock were most arousing. Obviously a girl can't easily suck your cock and speak at once, but from time to time she managed to gasp out pretty phrases about how much she adored it. "So _long_!" she said. I thought she was flattering me, but then - "It's been so long!" "You mean, since -?" She removed my cock from her mouth for a few moments, cradling it instead between her breasts. "Of course, I had a lovely one earlier ... in my test with the camera ... but apart from that -" "No?" "I was with Miss Takahashi, you see ... she was wonderful, but -" "Not the same, is it?" "No." She restored my cock to her mouth. Her sucking, and the thought of her and the beautiful Miss Takahashi in bed together, were bringing me dangerously close to climax. "Let me suck you for a bit," I suggested. "Ooh, yes please!" She knelt upright, and crawled forward till she was squatting over my face. Slowly, and with gasps of pleasure, she pressed her sweet hairless cunt onto my mouth. When I think of all the enchanting young Japanese pussies I have kissed and loved and sucked nectar from over the years - well, it makes me feel quite sentimental. Ayumi's was one of the best. It tasted delicious, of course: young Japanese girls' pussies always do. Its complete hairlessness meant that our adoring contact was total: her quivering, trembling flesh seemed as loving and mobile as my own lips. It was as if her pussy was kissing me back. I grasped her by the hips and pulled her firmly onto me, while her squeals and cries of joy stimulated me to adore her all the more deeply and truly. I love every little bit of a young sexy Japanese girl, from the top of her head to her cute little toes; but when she sits on my face I feel that if I had only her enchanting pussy to love I should want nothing more. Ayumi was screaming and wriggling now: I could tell she was close to her first orgasm. Suddenly my mouth filled with delicious, sweet, fresh liquid: once again she was ejaculating in her ecstasy. Oh, I just want to go on sucking and loving this pussy for ever and ever, I thought ... When at last she had climbed down from the heights of orgasm, Ayumi quickly returned to my cock, kissing and sucking it with all her skill. I came rather quickly, thanks to all the physical and mental stimulation she had provided. When it was over she snuggled up against me again, licking her lips and playing with the decorations clipped to her breasts. "What would you like to do now?" I asked. "I don't know ... whatever you think would be good for my education!" "How about a video?" I asked. "Yes! That would be nice ... a sex-video?" she asked anxiously. "Are there any others?" She giggled prettily. "I'd like to see ... you know, one which would teach me new things, like - er - being tied up and whipped?" I looked at her for a few moments, considering. Yes, I thought, that would be a good introduction. And if she finds she is keen to experience it herself, I can bring that part of her training forward. In any case, I had just been given a new Marucho BDSM video by my dear friend Megumi. I hadn't done more as yet than glance at the early scenes, and it would be a good opportunity to enjoy it - and watch Ayumi enjoying it. We watched it lying on the floor in front of the sofa, Ayumi snuggled up against me as usual, my hands playing with her pretty breasts and sweet pussy, her metal adornments glinting and tinkling nicely as she wriggled under my touch. It was a long video, all of two hours, and there had been time to establish a simple plot rather than starting at once with the fucking. The heroine was supposed to be some kind of secret investigator, whose work had taken her to an abandoned warehouse. Her working uniform was all in shiny black leather: a bondage harness with matching cuffs and collar, and high-heeled thigh-boots - rather delightful even if somewhat improbable. Of course the villains caught her checking out their warehouse, and when she came to after being captured she found herself helplessly tied up ready for interrogation. The heroine was played by a girl called Kimiko Kobayashi, one of dear Megumi's discoveries; she had the slightly plump beauty which looks especially delectable when tightly bound with ropes. In this case the villains had tied her up remarkably tight, removing her harness first so that the ropes bit firmly into her naked flesh - not forgetting to tie one rope tightly round her crotch, its carefully placed knots pressing agreeably against her cunt and arsehole whenever she tried to move. The villains threatened her and demanded to know who had sent her and why. If she did not tell them willingly, she would be tortured until she did. She bravely refused to speak, and the torture began. They tied her elbows together behind her, pulling her shoulders back cruelly and making her firm breasts press forward proudly. They locked her wrists to her ankles, forcing her into an exquisitely painful, and very beautiful, arc; and then suspended her from the ceiling, swinging her to and fro, up and down. But still she would not talk. Next they tied her to a pillar, her hands far above her head, her feet in their high-heeled boots hardly touching the ground, and slowly, agonisingly slowly, applied clothes-peg-style clamps to her breasts. I could see that these were not the ordinary domestic clothes-pegs used in everyday porn videos: they were ones made specially for the pleasure of sadists and masochists with extra strong springs and little serrated metal jaws, which you can buy from sex-shops specialising in fetish equipment.[12] The villains knew their job well enough to apply the clamps slowly, one by one, giving her plenty of time to squeal and wriggle: about a dozen circling each breast and then, as the climax of the delicious agony, one specially large one biting lusciously into each nipple. She screamed and squirmed beautifully, but still would not talk. So, when the camera had lingered enough over the beauty of her decorated breasts and the refined agony of her face, they took her down and - leaving the forest of clamps still in place - laid her on a mattress with her wrists and ankles chained to the four corners. It was time for candle-wax torture, with the additional refinement of the clamps still biting into her breasts. Each villain had two large candles and soon she was spattered all over with red wax. They paid particular attention to her breasts, which were soon hidden under a mass of wax, the clamps almost unrecognisable as they protruded through it. As an extra refinement, they freed her ankles and lifted her legs, one holding her ankles tight as the others poured molten wax over the soles of her feet, making her wriggle and squeal delightfully - a traditional touch I had not previously thought of incorporating in my own personal torture routines. In between the different forms of torture the villains of course forced her to satisfy their lusts, stimulated by their pleasure in the beautiful spectacle she presented. Her face was streaked with cum and her voice, when she begged for mercy and refused to answer their questions, was thick with the explosions of semen she had swallowed, her throat muscles constricted by her leather collar. Of course I was enjoying the video greatly. Like all Marucho videos it adhered carefully to the company's policy "We Always Do It For Real". Nothing was faked: not the torture, not the actress's reactions to it. Furthermore, having received a personal copy of the video from the company, I was able to enjoy it without any of the tiresome "mosaic" censorship still applied in Japan to shots of pussies and cocks. But of course I was also enjoying Ayumi's reaction. Snuggled up against me in nothing but her provocative body jewellery, she was trembling and whimpering, burying her face in her hands and on my chest, but unable to tear her eyes away from the screen for more than a moment at a time. The last twenty-five minutes of the video were the best whipping scene I have ever seen performed on video. The head villain appeared, and berated his underlings for their failure to extract the required information from their victim. He then took over, and showed himself a true expert with the whip and other implements. He began by removing the clamps and peeling the accumulated wax from her body. On his instructions, one of the others drove up a fork-lift truck: the scene was after all an abandoned warehouse, so presumably it wasn't too difficult to find such a thing. The girl's arms were roped tightly behind her back and her ankles were tied; and she was blindfolded and gagged. The rope round her ankles was hooked round the vehicle's fork, and she was slowly lifted into the air - the villains carefully supporting her as she was dragged off the floor. Then the truck drove slowly out of the warehouse into the sunshine of the forecourt, the victim dangling helplessly upside-down and the head villain following with an assortment of torture implements under his arm. "You are going to tell me what I want to know," he said to her in a soft, sinister voice as she hung in front of him. "But not yet. Oh, no! You will not tell me till I am ready to hear it. That is why I have gagged you: so you can't spoil my enjoyment before I have finished. First I shall give myself the pleasure of whipping you." He selected a cat with long leather lashes and began. He whipped her hard and steadily, covering her arse, her thighs, her back, her crotch, her stomach and her breasts, instructing the driver to raise and lower her to a convenient height as he attended to each area. She swung to and fro upside-down under the force of his strokes, and screamed inarticulately from behind her gag. Ayumi was transfixed by the scene, her body cringing and shuddering at every stroke as if she were being whipped herself. Yes, I thought, I must certainly give priority to this part of her training. At last the master torturer paused. The others wheeled a whipping-frame out into the sunlight. She was lowered from the fork-lift truck and set the right way up again; her arms and ankles were untied, and she was made to stand within the frame while she was attached to it and stretched tightly. Then at last her gag and blindfold were removed. "Well, my sweet," he said in his sinister voice, "that was very enjoyable. For me, at least. But I haven't finished. That was only the beginning. I shall now whip you more - and much, much harder. Look, this is the whip I shall use." He held a cat before her eyes: it had thin, knotted lashes. "This one is _really_ painful - the other was just a toy. You may scream if you like. No one will come." He began by tickling her shoulders and her breasts with the tips of the lashes. He laughed at the apprehension in her face, showed her the knotted lashes and told her about the agony she had to look forward to. Then, having teased her enough, he took up position and began to whip her arse with all his strength. She flung back her head and screamed. After a dozen strokes he stopped. "Nice?" he asked softly. "You liked that?" She said nothing. Another dozen strokes followed, carefully placed over her breasts, stomach and thighs. "Was that even nicer? You must tell me what you like best." I realised that this expert had spotted something his underlings had failed to see: that she was loving every moment of the thrilling experiences she was being given, and that in refusing to speak she wasn't being brave: she just wanted the wonderful torture to continue indefinitely. The last thing she wanted was to bring it to an end by giving her torturers the information they were seeking. He had stopped again. He tucked the cat under his arm and stood in front of her, smiling and gently fondling her firm breasts, pinching the rock-hard nipples. "Very pretty," he said. "Oh, _very_ pretty. It's almost a shame to hurt them - except that that's what we both like best, isn't it? Look how hard and erect you are![13] I'm so glad you are enjoying it so much." She looked at him but said nothing. "I expect you'd like something harder, wouldn't you? This cat is too soft for a girl like you. Look what I have for you here!" He held up a long whip in plaited leather, its heavy lash creaking sexily as he moved it from side to side. I felt Ayumi gasp with excitement and wriggle even closer to me. I could tell she wanted to ask me if I had such a whip to use on her, but was reluctant to interrupt the thrilling scene. "I think you'll like this! I really do. Don't you think you'll like this?" Still no answer. He smiled, then moved behind her. He took up position, judged his distance, and sent the beautiful whip hissing and sizzling round her hips. She screamed louder than ever. Again and again he sent it flashing round her, driving her into masochistic ecstasy. Then he stopped. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked. "Would you like some more? Would you?" She opened her lips and swallowed a couple of times. "Answer me!" he commanded. At last she managed to croak "Yes." "Ah! I knew I would get it right if I kept trying! Find the things you really, really enjoy!" "Yes," she said again. He looked at her sorrowfully. "But you see, if I am to do the things that you want so much, you must do something for me. That's only fair, isn't it?" No answer. "So this is what I suggest. You tell me the things I want to know - who sent you here and why - and in return I'll whip you as long as you like, as much as you like. But if you won't tell me, if you go on being difficult, then I'll stop. Is that a deal?" She managed to say "Yes" again; and then with great difficulty spelt out the information he required. "Thank you, my dear! That was very good. Now I will keep my promise and give you your reward. Look, I have a new little toy here. Don't you think he will feel delightful?" He held out another cat. This time it had far more than the usual nine lashes; all were made of long strands of very thin whipcord, with tiny hard knots along their length. She looked at it with her eyes wide open. "Yes," she breathed at last. "Yes, please." And for the last five minutes of this splendid video, he whipped her comprehensively with the lovely new cat, covering her entire naked body with the myriad strands with their countless little knots of exquisite pain, while she at last screamed and begged with all her heart. The scene finished with a close-up of her beautiful, anguished face as she attained that paradise of perfect orgasm which is every girl's dream. The video ended. "Ohh!" said Ayumi, clinging to me as her body twitched in the spasms of her own orgasm. "How _beautiful_! _I_ want to be her! I want to be that girl. Do you have whips like that? Do you? I'm sure you do! Will you use them on me? Oh, _please_!" == After that, of course, Ayumi came frequently to my apartment for further training. As often with an eager young girl, she already knew - almost - how to undress for her lovers, but needed instruction in how to dress for them. She was at first puzzled about the need for that: surely the whole idea was to get nude as quickly as possible? But I was able to convince her, by conducting some practical sessions in what the Japanese call _cosupure_ or costume-play, that an imaginative approach to clothes could have very gratifying results in terms of stimulating desire. Fortunately I had built up over the years quite a collection of provocative outfits bought for girls I had trained, and I gave Ayumi free access to it. With my guidance she soon learnt how to dress to please a man. I wrote down quick descriptions of our sessions at the time, wanting to capture the raw material before memories faded or merged: the following accounts are chosen from my notes: == I stand there waiting. I am wearing slacks: nothing above the waist, bare-footed. At last the door opens and Ayumi enters. She walks, and then stands, elegantly with a touch of shyness, or perhaps uncertainty, hidden behind the apparent self-confidence. She wears long gloves in a pale gold material, a pretty necklace, gold high-heeled sandals and a sweet little bikini panty in the same material as her gloves, its side-tie bows waiting to be pulled apart by a lover's fingers. She holds her gloved hands lightly over her crotch. After a moment's hesitation she walks towards me. I move to join her. "I have come to the right place, haven't I?" she asks, looking up at me seriously. "Yes, I think you have," I reply. "Oh, I'm so glad. There are other parties happening here tonight, and I wasn't sure ..." "I'm sure you'd be welcome at any of them," I say. She smiles to acknowledge the compliment, and does nothing to stop me putting my arm round her pretty waist. "Are you expecting many people?" she asks. "Quite a few," I say. "There's usually quite a crowd here on a Friday night." "Oh, I'm glad. I wouldn't want to be the only one ... It was difficult to decide what to wear - this is my first time, you see. At a party ... _this_ sort of party." "I think you made the right decision," I say. "I'm glad," she says again. She stands on tiptoe and we kiss. First lightly on the lips, then with our tongues exploring each other's mouth. As she breaks away she lets out a long sigh of contentment; then turns round in my arms and stands with her back to me. Her breasts lift as she raises her gloved arms and starts to stroke the back of my neck. "That's nice," I say. My hands stroke her breasts in return, then one hand moves down to her crotch and strokes her pussy through the scrap of gold cloth. "That's nice too," she says. My fingers play with one of the bows of her panties. "Wouldn't it be even nicer without ...?" She looks around the room, pretending to be anxious. "Are the other girls going nude too?" she asks. "Already?" "Yes," I say, reassuring her even though it isn't really true. "Or if not, they will as soon as they see you." She leans her head against my shoulder. "Then yes," she says softly. "Please. That would be so nice." Slowly my fingers pull the little bows apart, then remove the little panties. I feel the string at the back sliding sensuously along the crack of her arse. Then she is free, and I toss the little scrap of cloth onto a chair. My right hand is now stroking her naked pussy, probing into it, while the left returns to petting and squeezing her breasts. "Nice. Nice. Oh, deeper ..." she breathes. She rubs her naked bottom slowly against the bulge in my trousers. "Wouldn't you like to ...?" I say. "Isn't it a bit soon? What about the others?" "Don't worry. That's what we're all here for." "Yes, I suppose it is!" She turns round again in my arms and holds me close. Her hard nipples rub tantalisingly against my bare chest. "Then yes!" she says. "Yes, please! I want it so much." "Here?" I ask. "Where everyone can watch?" "Oh, yes ... yes, please ... that would be especially nice, wouldn't it?" == Again I stand alone in the living-room, waiting for Ayumi. She is taking her time. At last the door opens and she is there, flashing me a challenging smile. She is dressed in red: open bra and open panties in shiny red plastic material which outline her breasts and pussy without hiding them, and matching long gloves. She wears red high-heeled laced boots reaching half-way up her calves. All the straps of her bra and panties, and the surface of her gloves, are covered in little pointed studs in silver metal. She poses for me, putting one hand behind her head and the other on her hip. She is still looking at me as if inviting me to make the next move, knowing very well that she is a dream of kinky sexual possibility. I walk towards her and pick her up, one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees. She kicks sexily with her legs and cuddles up against me. I can feel the metal points of her bra pressing against my bare chest. They are sharp: not sharp enough to draw blood but very cold and hard. I bend my head down and kiss her. She puts one gloved arm round my shoulders: I can feel the metal points there too. I lift her chest and kiss her breasts as they protrude from the open bra; then I bite her nipples hard. "Ooh!" she says. "Nice!" I carry her to the middle of the room and set her on her feet. She snuggles up against me, pressing the metal points into me. I can feel her erect nipples too, but they are so hard it is not easy to tell them apart from the metal studs. She wriggles and rolls herself against me, deliberately making the studs hurt. Then she pulls apart, and flashes me a knowing, sexy smile. "Are you enjoying it?" she asks. She sounds like me interrogating a new girl in my torture-chamber after the first few strokes of the whip. Then she wriggles round in my arms and I can feel the spikes on the back of her bra against my chest, and those on the waist of her panties pressing into my groin. She rests her head on my shoulder and looks up at me. "Some of my gentlemen find it very exciting when I dress like this," she murmurs. "They say they love the feel of the little spikes stimulating them as they fuck me. Do you find it stimulating too?" For a moment I am silent. She is releasing in me feelings and desires I would prefer not to know about. But then, I think, it is intriguing to find a new source of sexual pleasure in myself after so many years dedicated to releasing the sensuality of delightful Japanese girls. "Do you?" she asks again, pressing herself even harder into me. "Yes!" I say at last. "Oh, yes! How did you know? You are so clever ..." == Once again I am alone and waiting. I do my best to concentrate on what will happen next, and not to think about the experience I have just had with its strange implications for my sexuality. I had believed I understood it so clearly! That can wait for later. In the first rush of arousal stimulated by contact with Ayumi in her thrilling spiked outfit I cannot decide whether this is an experience I wish to repeat and explore, or not. The door opens and Ayumi enters for the third time. She is dressed in a stylised maid uniform. Her black support bra pushes her pretty breasts up and outwards without covering them; above her breasts is a band of frilly white lace, matching the tiny cap she wears in her hair, her little white collar and the lacy white gloves up to her wrists. She wears black high-heels, and black fishnet stockings held up by a suspender-belt. I do not think she is wearing any panties, but it is difficult to see as her crotch is covered - just - by a tiny, impracticable apron with a wide ribbon tied snugly round her waist in a big bow. She holds a little feather-duster with a long handle in her right hand. The effect is delightful, and could not be more different from the spiked red plastic she was wearing only minutes ago with its thrilling hints of sadism and domination. She bows respectfully, holding the duster horizontally across her lap. "Good evening, sir!" she says in a bubbly, little-girl voice. "Am I disturbing you?" "Not at all, Ayumi," I say. "Don't let me interrupt your work." "Thank you, sir! I do so want to please you and give you satisfaction." "You please me very much, Ayumi," I say. "Oh, I am so glad, sir!" She comes towards me, tentatively, not wanting to force herself on me if I am busy. But I reach out and take her by her upper arm. She looks up at me innocently, her lips slightly parted. Her firm young breasts, provocative in her uplift bra, seem to be begging for attention. I pet and stroke them with my free hand. "Nice," I say. "Oh, thank you sir! I do so like wearing this uniform. Thank you for choosing it for me ..." I pinch one of her nipples gently. She giggles, blushes, and daringly tickles my bare chest with her feather-duster. "Do that more," I say. "Of course, sir! If you like it." "I do." We stand together, petting and tickling each other. Then I bend my head and kiss her half-open mouth. I put just the tip of my tongue between her lips, lightly touching hers. I pull apart for a moment and her dancing, sparkling eyes look into mine. Then we kiss again, more intensely this time, our tongues tangling until hers gives way and I tickle the inside of her mouth, relishing her sweet fresh saliva. Then I let her enter my mouth and try to do to me what I did to her. She giggles delightfully as she does so. I slide my hands down her back and hold her firm bottom. She wriggles against me and strokes my back with her free hand. At last our mouths come apart. "Oh, sir!" she says eagerly, "that was so lovely!" "It was, wasn't it? Take your apron off for me, will you?" "Yes, sir!" She moves away, puts down her duster and undoes the bow behind her back. She folds the little apron daintily and lays in neatly on a chair. I can now see clearly that she is wearing no panties. I take her in my arms again, and turn her to lean her back against me so that my hands can wander over her breasts and her deliciously hairless pussy. Already it is dripping cunt-juice. "Do you like working here, Ayumi?" "Oh, yes, sir! I love serving you and your guests! Do you often give big parties like this for your friends?" "Yes. Quite often." "Oooh!" I release her. She stands before me, eagerly awaiting instructions. "Walk around the room for me." She bows. As she walks she innocently shows off her delightful bottom and her legs, their shapeliness enhanced by the elegant fishnets and tall slender heels. As she turns she looks at me and smiles happily. I can wait no longer. "Come to me, then!" I say. I pick her up and carry her to the big sofa. I kneel beside her and kiss her; then nibble gently on her breasts, and finally bury my mouth in her pussy. The love-juice is delicious and the more I suck up the more she makes and drips into my mouth. I make her turn over and lie with her knees up so that I can plunge my tongue deeper into her cunt, and then move up to explore her delicious pink anus. She squeals with joy and pushes her bottom against me. Then it is my turn. I lie on the sofa while she strokes me charmingly, first my chest and then at last my cock. She reaches to the chair where she left her duster, and as she slides my erection into her mouth tickles my balls delightfully. "Don't you want me to come in your cunt?" I ask after a while. "Well, yes, if you like, sir," she says. "But I do so love it when you come in my mouth!" So of course I do. She sucks up every drop of cum, and then squats beside me on the sofa playing with it, letting it drip onto her fingers, licking it up again, swallowing it slowly. "Oh, sir, it's so delicious! Can I not have some more?" "Not just now, Ayumi. But I'm sure my guests will be delighted to serve you." "Ooh, thank you, sir! But I do hope I gave satisfaction?" "You certainly did, Ayumi. All three times. I think we can say you are now properly trained for party sex. Tomorrow we'll go to a real party and you can show everyone what you have learned." "Thank you, _sensei_," she says, no longer the obedient maid and returning to the pupil she really is. "I won't let you down." == So the next day I rang a few contacts and soon found out where a sex-party was being held that evening. Of course the host was delighted to invite me when I told him I would be bringing a new girl to her first party. She agreed without argument to my suggestion that she should wear the little gold panties and long gloves; and she was of course a great success. I surrendered the right to be the first to fuck my date so that she could offer herself to anyone who wanted her - as many did. I was pleased to see that, between sucking and fucking the cocks of our host and many fortunate guests, she joined in the pretty lesbian combinations that formed and reformed as the evening progressed. She seemed happy enough; but she was in a strange mood when at last we left the party. She was docile and obedient, and made no objection when I said it was time to go home; but she said nothing and seemed to be in a world of her own. The scraps of clothing she had been wearing when we arrived were lost for good, but I found her coat and she put it on without protest. I helped her into the passenger seat of the car and we drove home to my apartment in Akasaka, still in silence. When at last we were home, she sat on the edge of the bed while I helped her out of her high heels. She wriggled her toes luxuriously as the constricting shoes were slid off her feet, the first piece of natural behaviour I had seen since leaving the party with her. I urged her into the shower and she went willingly: soon I heard the spray of the water-jets. I looked in discreetly to make sure she was all right, and saw that she was washing herself though in a mechanical sort of way and without seeming to make use of the jets' masturbatory possibilities. Once she was dry and had brushed her hair, she slipped straight into bed and was soon fast asleep. Normally when I wake up in the morning beside a delightfully nude girl, the two of us spend the first half-hour or so of the day happily reliving our experiences of the previous evening. But although she was awake, she was still distant and unresponsive, gazing at the ceiling through half-closed eyelids, her fingers slowly fondling and twisting her nipples. So I left her alone and, having slipped on a _yukata_ and rubber _zori_ slippers, went downstairs to see about breakfast. I was hungry even if she wasn't. The late-spring weather was overcast and rather sultry: not a day for breakfasting on the terrace. I had just finished brewing coffee in the kitchen when I heard Ayumi on the stairs; she joined me in the kitchen, nude apart from her high-heels from the night before. I pulled out a chair for her at the kitchen table and gave her a mug of coffee, which she accepted without comment. I got on with my own breakfast while waiting for her to come back to her normal bubbly self. At last she put the mug down and looked at me. "Why is it all so wonderful?" she asked suddenly. I didn't waste time asking what she meant. It was obvious enough. "I don't know, my dear; but it is, and I'm so grateful." "I mean," she went on, trying hard to find words to express her thought, "with all that fucking last night, it wasn't just up to Heaven with the first man, down again, more please, up again with the next. It turned into a sort of endless orgasm. Whether I was being fucked or not. Every time a man took me, it pushed me even further up towards Heaven, and when he had finished with me, I just sort of stayed there." I nodded encouragingly. "And I was still up there when you brought me home and put me to bed. And when I fell asleep I had the most fantastic dreams. Of fucking and orgasm. Even more fantastic than the real thing. I woke up long before you did, and just lay there, remembering and enjoying." "I could see that," I said. "I thought I'd better just leave you to it." "Yes, thank you. That was good of you. You know, I just feel I can _never_, never get enough sex. The more I have, the more I want. I adore it, and I'm never satisfied. It's incredibly wonderful, that feeling. Is it very strange?" "No, I don't think so," I said thoughtfully. "I've known plenty of girls who feel the way you do. It may be ... I don't know, but I wonder if it isn't caused by fucking in public. Or with people watching, anyway. It's such an intense experience it could lead to a very high level of addiction ..." "Well, whatever it is I have, it's wonderful. I don't want to lose it. Ever. And I'm sure the way to hold on to it is by fucking as much as I possibly can. All the time. Without ever stopping." She smiled coquettishly and I could see the everyday Ayumi - the normal sexy girl I enjoyed so much - coming to the fore again. "So - what are we going to do today?" "Maybe we should go and see a movie?" I said. "Or just stay here and read books?" She stood up, walked towards me and pulled me to my feet. She reached behind me and undid the knot of my _obi_ sash, pushing it and my _yukata_ to the floor. Then she turned round, leant back against me and wriggled her firm bottom against my swelling erection. One of my hands found her pretty breasts, while the other moved down to tickle her pussy. "That's better," she said. "Ready now?" "I'm ready," I said. We walked together to the big couch in the living-room. "You will let me suck you, won't you?" she said anxiously as we sat down. "Of course. You do it beautifully. But there's always room for yet further improvement," I added, switching into _sensei_ mode. After all, she had come to me to be trained. "I do so love doing that. Controlling your lust. Making you come in my mouth ... drinking that delicious cream men make. You don't mind, do you?" "I don't mind. I don't think you'll ever meet a man who minds. Is it still your favourite kind of sex now?" "Oh, no. My favourite kind of sex now is whatever a man's cock is doing to me at the moment. But just now I want you to come in my mouth. I didn't have any breakfast, you see." "Help yourself. But don't forget to let me suck your cunt-juice. That's only fair." So she twisted round to sit on my face. For a while I held her there, enjoying the perfect contact between her beautiful hairless pussy and my lips and tongue. Then she slowly leant forward to draw my erection deep into her soft, clever mouth. == One afternoon, as Ayumi arrived for her lesson and was on the way to undress and put on her metal decorations, I stopped her. "We're going out together this afternoon," I said. "On a field-trip, you could say. So I'd like you to wear a dress. Find something fairly loose, with a wide skirt and cut low over the breasts." "Yes, _sensei_ - of course." It was barely five minutes later that Ayumi ran down the stairs in just the sort of dress I wanted. The skirt was short, of course, but swung nicely round her hips as she moved; and the upper part was low and loose enough to offer pretty glimpses of her breasts when she leant forward. "What sort of field-trip will it be?" she asked eagerly. "Well, some new experiences for you. Some useful training for your future, and some fun just for the sake of having fun." "Ooh! Where are we going?" "Asakusa." "I haven't been there for ages! What are we going to do?" "You'll find out when I'm ready to tell you. Meanwhile I have a few little toys for you. They are part of the fun. I hope you'll like them. Lift up your skirt." She did so, saying "You didn't tell me if I was to wear panties. So I didn't. Was that right?" "We'll see." I picked up a pair of egg vibrators: one medium size for her pussy, the other smaller. With her help I inserted the first deep into her cunt. When we were both satisfied that it was snugly placed where it could do most good, I instructed her to bend over, and pushed the smaller one into her anus. I coated my forefinger with baby-oil, and inserted it slowly up her arse, pushing the little toy before it. "Now, I leave it to you whether you need to wear panties," I said. "If you think your muscles are strong enough and well-trained enough to hold the devices in all afternoon, then it would be much nicer if you don't wear any. For both of us. But if you're concerned they may fall out, then perhaps you'd better wear something to hold them more firmly where they belong." She walked up and down for a while, clearly practicing and tensing the muscles of her cunt and arse. "If you don't mind," she said, "I think I can manage without panties. It would be much nicer, as you say." "Right. Come here." I showed her the little pair of steel pincers, each with a little metal ball dangling from it. She smiled happily, her eyes dancing. I put my hand down the front of her dress and attached the pincers to her nipples. "Ooh, lovely!" she said. "Tight enough?" "They could be tighter." I adjusted them. "Beautiful!" she said. "How do they all turn on?" "That's for me to decide," I said. I picked up the radio control. There were three on/off buttons and a volume slider. I pressed the button for the vibrator in her cunt. "Oooh!" she said, her hips quivering as her hands flew to her crotch. I added the arse vibrator. She bent forward with a squeal, her knees clapped together, unable to speak. Then I switched on the devices suspended from her nipples: they were not vibrators but were designed to transmit a random pattern of electric shocks. Finally, I gradually moved the volume control up till the little instruments were all working at full power. She screamed, and gradually collapsed into heap on the carpet, writhing and arching her back as the vibrators pleasured her mercilessly and the devices clamped to her breasts worked through their elaborate pattern of electric shocks. I let it all continue for five or ten minutes, looking down with pleasure on the pretty sight; then gradually reduced the volume and finally switched off the devices one by one. At last she was able to stand again. "Ohh!" she said. "Ohhh! How _wonderful_! Am I to ... you want me to ... go out in public with these ... not knowing when you'll switch them on ... and not letting anyone see what you're doing to me?" "That's the idea," I said. "Do you think you can manage?" "Oh, _yes_! I want to ... I must! It's so thrilling!" "I thought you'd like them," I said. I let her build up gradually as we walked down the street to the Akasaka Mitsuke subway station. I turned on the cunt vibrator, at low volume, without any warning of course. She let out a little squeal and stumbled slightly: a few passers-by looked at her in surprise but she recovered immediately. We had more fun on the train: it was not crowded at that time of day and she had a seat where she could hold the bars near the door to steady herself as I put the little machines through their paces, varying them and trying to take her by surprise. When we finally emerged into the open air, I turned everything off to give her a breather. "That was lovely!" she said. "Really thrilling! Now, are we walking?" "Yes." "So turn everything on. I think I can control myself now. It would be _such_ fun to be so near to orgasm, in public and not being allowed to let anyone know!" I did what she wanted, turning all three buttons on at once and flicking the volume control to maximum. She let out a gasp and clung to me for a moment. Then she turned, and walked steadily, with long sensuous strides, down the street towards the main gate of the huge Buddhist temple and into the long street of traditional shops. I let her get ahead of me, but still within range of the radio signals, so that I could enjoy watching her, so vulnerable and happy without me beside her. At last she stopped and waited for me to catch up. "I think I'd like some variation now," she said. I led the way from the bright lights of the temple complex down a maze of darker side-streets. On Ayumi's insistence I continued to play with the radio control, challenging her to break step whenever the vibration and the electric tingling suddenly changed. But she knew what to expect now, and I could no longer catch her unawares. Only her delighted cooing and aahing gave anything away. At last we arrived at the place I was looking for. I pressed an intercom button beside a discreet door. "Yes?" said a man's voice, with no attempt at any greeting. "Bob Williams. With a girl. To see the boss." "Upstairs." The door buzzed and we stepped into a dimly lit entrance hall. "What is this place?" asked Ayumi. "It's called Pinku Saron Bara." "What a pretty name!" "Before we go in," I said firmly, "you will remove your little toys." "Must I?" "Yes. You must." I reached down the front of her dress and unclipped the pincers from her nipples. Then, rather sadly, she lifted her skirt and pulled the vibrators from her pussy and arse. She handed the equipment to me. I wiped it carefully on a tissue and slipped it into my jacket pocket. "All right?" she said, standing very close to me. "Very all right." I kissed her, then urged her up the narrow stairs. At the top was a badly painted door. It opened as I pushed it and we found ourselves in a small and very untidy office. A middle-aged man in slacks and an open-necked shirt sat at a small metal desk. "Evening, Bob. Long time. Who's this?" "Ayumi-san," I said. "She want to work here?" "Yes. She doesn't know she wants to, but she does." "Good. I like keen girls." He turned to Ayumi, who was breathing fast and was obviously stimulated by what she imagined was about to happen. "All right. Take your dress off." I was impressed that Ayumi did not waste time protesting, or pretending to be surprised. She immediately turned her back on the man, and reached her hand behind herself to unzip her dress. She looked shyly over her shoulder at the man and said, "Help me, please?" Very good, I thought. Of course she doesn't need help, but it's a nice, teasing thing to say. He reached for her, and unzipped her in a single movement. "Ooh! Thank you!" she said as she turned to face him, let her dress fall to the floor, stepped out of it and handed it to me to hold. He looked at her nude body with approval, and swung round from his desk in his swivel chair. He pointed at the floor, and at once Ayumi was on her knees in front of him, fumbling with his trousers. She soon had his erect cock in her hands. She gazed at it with a loving smile, then looked up at his face. "Ooh," she said, "it's so lovely and _big_! But maybe I can make it even bigger ..." She took it into her mouth while he leant back in his chair and watched her bent head as she worked. After a while he simply commanded, "Umanori!" She looked up, puzzled for a moment by this command for horse-riding. Before she could work out the meaning for herself, he snapped his fingers and said, "On my lap!" "Oh yes! Of course!" She stood astride his thighs and held his erection delicately with one hand as she slowly impaled herself on it. She whimpered with pleasure and in little gasps thanked him for the happiness he was giving her. It seemed strange to hear her encouraging him as she had so often done to me. I could tell that she was pleasuring him by rippling her cunt muscles along the length of his shaft. They came together quite soon, he letting out a shout of pleasure and she telling him how wonderful he had been. Then she stood up. He grabbed some tissues from a box on his desk and wiped himself. "You can wash in there," he said briefly, pointing to a little door between metal filing cabinets. "Thank you, sir," said Ayumi. "You were _so_ good to me! Please do that to me again ... soon ..." She bowed, collected her dress as she passed me, and disappeared. "Not bad," he said. "I can use her. How old?" "Seventeen," I said firmly. He looked up at me with a cunning expression. "That means I can't pay her. Underage." "You can pay me," I suggested. "What are you? Husband? Business partner?" "No. Just her ... teacher." "What are you teaching her?" "She wants to be an AV star." "Huh. You like living in Japan?" "You know I do." "You want to be thrown out? Have to go back to screwing western women?" "Of course not." "Then let's not hear any more about payment. Not until she's eighteen, anyway." "Exploitation, isn't it?" I said with a smile, knowing I had lost. "Yes. Japanese girls enjoy being exploited. _You_ know that. That's why you live here." I shrugged. "All right. She'll do it for nothing." "Of course she'll do it for nothing. She _wants_ to do it for nothing. She's dreaming of nothing else. She's a depraved slut - with the face and body of an angel." There was a short pause. I searched for some way of reasserting myself. "Are you allowing genital-to-genital contact here now?" I asked, knowing very well that he did. He looked at me. There was anger in his eyes. "Don't try to make anything of that! The law's changing ... the police have more important things to bother about." "Good ..." I said vaguely. "She'll enjoy that." The door opened and Ayumi returned, her dress now covering her nakedness and looking, as always after sex, fresh and virginal. A depraved slut with the face and body of an angel ... I had the impression she had been listening to our conversation. The man swung round in his chair and pulled open a door. I could hear the amplified voice of the clerk instructing girls which cubicles to go to where customers were waiting for them. When he paused for a moment, the boss called out, "Is Sachiko free?" "Yes," came the reply: "she's taking a break." "Send her in here, will you?" Almost at once there was a tap at the door and a smartly dressed young woman entered. The boss pointed at Ayumi. "This is ... oh, what's your name?" "Ayumi, sir." "This is Ayumi. She'll be starting here tomorrow. Take her round with you, will you? Show her what to do, make sure she knows what the men mean and what they want." "Yes, sir," said Sachiko. She smiled at Ayumi. "Come with me. I'll make sure you understand the system ..." The two girls left and before the door closed the boss called out to the despatching clerk again, "I'm letting Bob-san use the special room. Send him a couple of good girls and make sure they look after him." "Yes, sir." He closed the door again. "Go to number 17. You're my guest." "That's very kind of you." He shrugged and turned his attention to the pile of pornographic pictures on his desk. Number 17 was clearly used for special occasions. It had a proper bed with clean sheets, instead of the armchair which was all that Pink Salon Bara provided for its customers during their fifteen-minute sessions in the little cubicles. There was even a little washroom. I felt very privileged - even more so when the door opened and two of the establishment's most charming girls came in. They got down to work at once, stripping prettily for me and asking me eagerly what sort of services I required. I dragged the appropriate specialist vocabulary out of my memory. They giggled happily and soon I was lying on my back, one girl treating me to her juicy pussy while the other skilfully sucked my cock. They had obviously been instructed not to hurry, so I took my time and fucked both their willing cunts. Then they thanked me prettily, and returned to their fifteen-minute duties in the cubicles.[14] == "Ooh, that was _such_ fun!" said Ayumi, skipping along beside me as we followed the narrow streets back to Asakusa Temple and the station. "Thank you so much for taking me there!" "Sachiko showed you what to do, did she?" "Oh, yes! We looked discreetly into lots of the cubicles, and saw what the girls were doing to the customers. Sachiko taught me what the men call all the various services on the menu so that I'd know what they were asking for when I start work tomorrow." "Tomorrow?" "Of course! Wasn't that what you had in mind? The dispatcher said he was so glad to have a new girl like me who was so keen! And Sachiko said the others would be pleased because there was so much to do and they needed more girls badly." "What time tomorrow?" I asked. "Well, while you were having fun with those two girls," said Ayumi, a bit severely, "I was learning the rules of the Salon. Each sex session lasts a maximum of fifteen minutes - a little bit less if possible, so you've just got time to clean yourself before going to the next customer." "Yes," I said. "The establishment is based on low charges and rapid throughput. It's a bit too mechanical for me ..." "Anyway," she went on, "the girls work four-hour shifts, which means sixteen customers; then we have thirty minutes off." I noted the "we". "And how many shifts?" "Two a day. That means thirty-two customers." She grabbed my arm and jumped up and down with excitement. "Enough for you?" I asked. "Of course not!" she said with a delicious giggle. "But it's a start. I'm to be there by 10 tomorrow. That means ..." she counted on her fingers "first shift 10 till 2; then a break, then second shift 2.30 till 6.30. So I should be back in time to do whatever you want me for in the evening." She stopped for a moment then started skipping again. "Oh, I'm _so_ looking forward to it!" As we entered the station, she went on: "Now, let me have those lovely toys again for the journey home, and see if you can take me by surprise!" "No," I said firmly. "But you must! I haven't had _anything_ since the boss fucked me - and I've been watching all that lovely sex going on in the cubicles - you must see that I'm desperate!" "That's the way I like my girls to be," I said. "Oh, _please_!" "No." "I think that's very unkind of you," she grumbled. "After all, you had those two girls ... you'll have to fuck me extra specially well when we get home ... _if_ you still can!" As we entered the lobby of my apartment block, we were greeted by Michel, a young Frenchman who worked at the Alliance Francaise and rented one of the smaller apartments on the floor below mine. He looked at Ayumi with obvious approval, and she blushed, looked up at him from lowered eyes, fiddled with her hair and did the other things girls do when they are attracted to a man. We entered the elevator together: I think Michel normally used the stairs, and came with us only to have more time to enjoy looking at Ayumi. I felt her good work during the day deserved a reward, so before Michel was able to leave us at his floor, I asked, "Doing anything this evening?" "No, nothing much ..." he said, hoping he was right in his guess of what I meant. "Well, come and join us. Why don't you?" "Yes ... er ... I'd love to." Ayumi smiled bashfully at him, and when the doors opened I let them leave the lift together. I unlocked the apartment door and stood aside as they entered; Michel took her by the elbow and then, as she leant towards him without quite touching him, slipped his arm round her waist. We stood together in the living-room, neither Michel nor I quite sure what move to make first. Then Ayumi turned to me with a smile. "Help me out of this ...?" she said tentatively, then turned her back to me. I slid the zip slowly down her dress. She let the front fall, slipping her arms out of the sleeves: not looking at Michel but making sure he received the full benefit of her nakedness. Then at last she eased the dress over her hips and dropped it to the floor. Michel smiled appreciatively: there is a special pleasure in finding that a girl one wants is fully nude under her dress - all the greater when you know she has for hours been so teasingly available in public. Ayumi posed for him, wriggled her bottom briefly against my crotch, picked up her dress and made for the open staircase. "I shan't be long ..." she said over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs, enjoying the tingle that girls feel - so they tell me - when they know that their nudity is being watched by an appreciative and aroused audience. "Very nice," said Michel once she had disappeared. "Mignonne ... how do you say? Cute." "Yes," I said. "How old is she?" "Seventeen. Or so she says." "How did you find her?" "She was sent to me for training." "Training for what?" he asked. But I guessed he already knew. "She dreams of being an AV actress," I said. "You know, in pornographic videos. I'm teaching her what she needs to know. For that and for the other things she'll need to do in the sex industry." "Nice work." I did not bother to reply. I started undressing so as to be ready for Ayumi when she returned, and after a moment he did the same. He was a handsome, well-muscled man with his clothes off, and I guessed he had no difficulty finding Japanese girls to fuck. All the more so when he removed his underpants and revealed a truly gigantic cock, already half erect in anticipation of Ayumi's return. Japanese girls would love that, I thought. At any rate, I knew one who would ... A door closed upstairs and Ayumi descended the stairs - slowly, knowing that she was making a big entrance. She had showered quickly and refreshed her make-up and scent. She was wearing mostly the pretty jewellery which I had specified when she first came to me, but she had clearly been raiding the drawers in which I kept items bought to adorn so many pretty girls over the years. She still had long sparkling decorations hung from her ears, from her navel-stud and from the sweet little clamps on her nipples, but little silver bells now dangled from them. Snugly round her neck she wore her usual silver collar, slave-bangles - deliciously suggestive of bondage and submission - clasped her upper arms, and she wore matching wrist-cuffs. On her feet she wore a pair of short high-heeled boots; they were a snug fit, especially when laced tightly over her feet and ankles as now, and the long metal heels forced her to balance uncertainly on her highest tiptoes. But they emphasised, as well-designed high heels should, the lovely curve of her little feet, and Ayumi knew the teetering, helpless walk was very arousing, so she was obviously enjoying wearing them. Michel gazed at her enraptured, and even I was impressed by her beauty. She joined us wearing the slightly withdrawn smile girls adopt when they know they are admired, and deserve to be. She went up to Michel in a charmingly comic mixture of a slut longing to be fucked and a hostess putting a guest at his ease. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting ..." she began. Her eyes left his face, travelled down his muscular torso, and stopped when they encountered his cock, now fully erect. She let out a little gasp. "Oooh!" she said, "isn't it _beautiful_!" Her hands, seeming to act outside her control, reached out and gently took it, stroking it, feeling its length. "You like cocks?" said Michel, obviously familiar with Japanese feminine response to his erection. "I _love_ cocks!" she replied. "I always have done. Since the very first one I saw, and touched, when I was _very_ young, and just beginning to enjoy sex ... but yours is _amazing_!" She fell to her knees in front of him, her silver bells tinkling, and supported herself with one hand against his thigh, while the other continued caressing his cock. At once her mouth joined in, kissing it reverently, beginning to tickle it with little cat-like strokes of her tongue. Michel glanced towards me, worried perhaps that he was presuming on his status as guest by using my girl in front of me, but I smiled and gestured to him to continue. After the draining performance of the two experts at the Pink Salon Bara, I was in any case in no hurry to compete: a good demonstration would be fun to watch, and would stimulate my lust, returning it to its usual level. He knelt with her on the floor: they twisted round each other so that she could continue stroking his cock with one hand while he kissed her mouth and played with her firm breasts, making her long nipple-decorations flash and tinkle and tightening the jaws of the clamps. She was letting out pretty whimpers of lust between his kisses, and then begged, "Oh, let me! Please let me!" She helped him onto his back; then crouched between his legs, sucking his cock and gazing adoringly up at him. She occasionally emptied her mouth long enough to say, "Oh, it's so _beautiful_! It's the loveliest I've ever had!" "Let me suck you too," said Michel. "Yes ... but please let me go on sucking you! I adore it ... and I want to know what you taste like!" she added with a provocative giggle. She swung round over his body and soon he had her cunt positioned over his mouth. With his left hand he grasped her thigh, holding her in place; with his right he played with her little, tight-fitting boot, stroking the black leather and the long metal heel. I pulled a couple of cushions off the sofa and placed them under his head for him so that his tongue could penetrate her pussy more easily. Ayumi was sucking and slurping, her mouth forced wide open by the huge girth of his magnificent cock, while her nipple- and navel-decorations dragged teasingly over his chest. His tongue was deep inside her now and I guessed her fresh young cunt-juice was cascading deliciously into his mouth. He withdrew his right hand from her ankle, coated his forefinger with her juice, and pressed the tip against her pretty pink arsehole. I could hear muffled squealing from Ayumi as this wonderful new sensation reached her and began to drive her mad with lust; her anus, relaxed by her earlier session with the vibrator, opened a little and his finger drove through the tight ring of muscle entering deep, deep into her fundament. Ayumi was screaming with joy now, and at the same time gagging as the head of Michel's cock pressed against her throat. I could tell that the sensation this gave him, combined with the stimulation of her clever tongue and lips, was taking him close to orgasm. His left hand was now holding her waist, crushing her down onto him. He freed his mouth from her cunt enough to shout, "I'm coming! I'm coming!" and I thought I could just make out a strangled cry of "Yes, darling, yes! yes!" They lay together for a few minutes, sucking and swallowing; then Ayumi wriggled off him and sat up, her jewellery swinging and flashing in the light. Michel propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at her. "Ohh, that was lovely!" she said, her hands still playing with his cock. "You came _lots_! And it tastes _so_ good!" "You taste good too," said Michel. "But please - oh, _please_ don't let it ... don't put it away yet! I must have it again. In my pussy. It would feel _so_ fantastic ..." "Sure. You'll just have to help me ..." She concentrated on stroking him, stimulating him to remain erect. He watched her with obvious pleasure. At last she was satisfied with her handwork. "There!" she said proudly. "Big and hard again!" And then she added submissively, "how would you like to have me?" "How about on your hands and knees?" "Ooh, yes, nice! And you'll enter me from behind?" "Yes. If you're sure it won't be to big for you ...?" "Of _course_ it will be too big for me!" said Ayumi happily. "That's why I want it so much! I'm sure it will feel _heavenly_." So she positioned herself as instructed on the carpet, and Michel knelt behind her. He gave her no extra lubrication, feeling no doubt that the flow of her juice was more than enough. And that if she wanted to enjoy the forceful entry of his enormous cock as much as he was looking forward to the constriction of her young cunt, he should plunge straight into her. Her screams, and the look of bliss on her face, were very arousing. I was fully recovered by now and ready to take a full part in this joyous violation. I moved round on my knees to her head end and offered my erection to her lips. "Oh, yes, yes!" she said as she took the tip into her mouth; and then became speechless as I thrust the whole length into her mouth, over her tongue and through the constriction of her throat. She rocked to and fro between us encouraging us to co-ordinate our movements back and forth a little way out of our chosen holes before slamming back into them as deeply as we could manage. Ecstatically, she gripped the invading erections tightly - at least she was doing that to me with her mouth and throat and I must assume she was squeezing Michel for all she was worth with her cunt-muscles. From time to time we looked at each other over her heaving body, but mostly we were each lost in our individual pleasure. It could not last long, and soon we exploded more or less together, shooting our cum deep into her. She herself had been coming non-stop from the first moment of Michel's longed-for penetration of her cunt. == "What do you like best in all the world, Ayumi-chan?" he asked, in the mood now for a little sexy conversation. Most men find it stimulating to hear a pretty young girl coyly describing her sexual interests. Especially when the pretty young girl happens to be nude. She giggled. "Guess!" she said. "You enjoy taking your clothes off, teasing men with your nakedness?" "Of course!" she said, a little surprised. "Every girl loves doing that." "And every man loves having it done to him." "Then when I'm nude, it's such fun to masturbate while everyone watches." "Yes, it's nice to watch pretty girls coming, and they come much more when they know they're being watched." "But the best is what happens after that ..." "Being fucked, you mean?" Of course she meant that, but Michel knew how nice it would be to hear her say it. "Yes. Being fucked," she said, looking up at him with a pretty blush. "Especially while the others watch." "In your cunt? In your mouth?" "Oh, _yes_! I love cum! I love the taste, the smell ... I always have done, I'll never forget the first time a boy came in my mouth. It was _lovely_!" "So you like fucking, being nude, in public - especially in front of an audience?" "Oh, _yes_! It's the _best_! When I discovered that, then I knew, I really knew - what I wanted to do ... that I just _had_ to be a dancer in a striptease theatre - a nude hostess in a sex-club - an actress in fuck videos ... oh, I want to do all those lovely things - _so_ much!" "Where are you working now?" he asked. "Ayumi is still being trained," I interrupted quickly, before she had time to tell him about her appointment tomorrow with the Pink Salon Bara. "But she has an offer from a big fuck-video studio, as soon as she's eighteen." "That's a long while to wait ... and such a waste of talent," said Michel. "Yes, it is ..." said Ayumi sadly. "I can see you have to be careful while you are still underage," he said, "but I think I can take you to a place which would suit you ... and where the management are discreet." Ayumi looked at him happily, her eyes sparkling and the little bells swaying and tinkling from her nipples. She looked irresistible, I had to admit. "It's a gentlemen's club I go to sometimes," he began to explain slowly. "Like any other such club: a bar, billiard tables, comfortable chairs. The unique point about it is that all the girls are completely nude, and of course available." "Aaah ..." said Ayumi, already imagining it. "They serve the gentlemen nude, play billiards with them nude, and of course are always ready to be fucked any way a gentleman wishes." "Oooh ..." said Ayumi, her fingers stealing down to her cunt. "The other evening we had one of our special competitions: four girls are chosen to play each other at billiards, and we try to put them off their shots by stroking their breasts and pussies as they lean over the table." "Oh, how lovely!" said Ayumi. "Is there a prize for the winner?" "Well, yes; but it's silly really. The winner gets fucked of course as a prize, but the other three get fucked too. Still, no one objects: the girls are pretty aroused by then with all that petting and stroking - and so are the men who were doing it to them, so it's quite an exhibition." "Lovely!" said Ayumi again. "Have you thought of doing it the other way round?" "How do you mean?" "You know, four men play and we girls try to distract them by stroking them, sucking them ..." I noted the "we". "That's a great idea!" Michel was saying. "You'd better come and organise it for us." "Will you really take me there?" "Of course. You'd be very popular." She suddenly looked down at his cock as it lay in her hands. "There! It's quite hard again! And it's _so_ beautiful ... Oh, _please_ fuck me again! I want to imagine that I'm serving you at that wonderful club." == The next day Ayumi woke bright and early, already chattering about the thrilling experience that lay ahead of her. She fucked me nicely, while I pretended to be still half asleep; then danced off to the kitchen to fix herself some breakfast. She decided to wear the same dress as the previous day, saying rightly that its loose, wide skirt would be convenient when visiting lover after lover in their cubicles; no underwear, and medium heels. She kissed me good-bye and rushed off. I was glad to have the apartment to myself for the day. I was behind with several writing assignments, and went straight to the computer as soon as I had made myself some coffee. Then in the afternoon a pupil came for a lesson. She was a charming and well-brought-up girl of very good family with a degree from a provincial university, who was already making a career for herself in the sex-trade where her "princess" style was much in demand. She still insisted on seeing me for occasional refresher sessions - usually in my torture-chamber as her sexuality had blossomed into a special love for BDSM and fetish sex. I was trying to teach her to beg prettily for mercy when she was tied up and being whipped. She knew very well, of course, that pathetic entreaties of "_please_ don't hurt me!" were very stimulating to her lovers, and were the best way of ensuring that they whipped her harder and more sadistically than ever - which was what both they and she most enjoyed. Before we started I would rehearse her, and she would beg for mercy in the most delightful way, protesting her innocence and imploring her torturer to spare her this unbearable agony. That of course would get the session off to an excellent start. But then, as she stood tightly bound in the whipping frame, my plaited leather whip hissing round her trembling nakedness, she simply forgot everything and could only beg me to whip her yet harder and give her more of the exquisite pleasure which she adored and couldn't live without. Well, that was quite stimulating too, of course, and in the end I decided to leave her pretty, naive enthusiasm untouched. That afternoon an hour of whipping had left us both pleasantly tired and in need of relief, so I untied her and together, arms round each other, we walked slowly to the living-room and made slow, gentle love on the carpet. We had hardly finished when the phone rang. It was Ayumi. I looked at my watch: it was twenty to seven. She must have just finished her second shift, and be ready to leave the salon. I hoped she wasn't going to be difficult and ask me to fetch her. "Bob," she said in a low, rapid voice, "I'm going to be later back than planned." "Really? What's happened?" "Well, one of the girls on the evening shift has had to cancel. So of course I volunteered to help cover for her." "Of course." "I'm doing the first of her four-hour shifts, and then another girl will take over for the second. So that means ... this is my rest after my second shift ... that means I start again at seven and won't finish till eleven." She giggled. "And another sixteen customers!" "Can you manage?" I asked, knowing it was a stupid question. "Of _course_!" said Ayumi scornfully. "Don't you think I'm lucky to be given this extra chance?" "Yes, I suppose so. Will you be all right coming home on your own that late?" "Of course!" she said again. "You don't want me to come and fetch you?" "No, I'll be all right. Listen, I must go now. It's nearly time." She hung up. "Was that your next pupil?" the girl asked. "Yes. She'll be late." "Oh," she said; and then added nervously, "so perhaps I may stay a little longer?" "Do you want to?" "Oh, yes! If I'm no trouble ..." "Of course you're no trouble!" She blushed prettily, the blood colouring her breasts as well as her face and neck. "Will you ... I mean, will you please whip me again? It was _so_ beautiful." "I would enjoy that ... but I think I have something else for you. A special treat for being such a good pupil." Back in the torture-chamber I took her over to the red-painted metal X-frame which was fixed to one wall. Normally I prefer to work with an open whipping-frame which gives all-round access to a girl, but what I had in mind now was rather different. I fixed her wrist- and ankle-cuffs to the four points of the frame with short chains: not stretching her tightly, it would be agreeable to see her wriggle. Then, just for decoration, I buckled a wide belt, matching her cuffs, round her waist. I patted her cheek and gave her nipples a friendly tweak. "You look very desirable, chained up like that." "Do I? I'm so glad. Are you ... are you going to whip me?" "Do you want me to?" "Of course! It's _so_ wonderful." "Well, I think you'll like this too." I started by attaching small metal plates to her erect nipples: not too tight, just enough for a good electrical contact. She let out a little gasp as the clips gripped her. Then I knelt down and carefully inserted a matched pair of vibrators deep into her cunt and arsehole. "The vibrators will give you intense pleasure," I explained when I was satisfied. "And the nipple-clamps will deliver equally intense pain. The two combined should produce a very interesting effect." "Mm'mm." "After all, that's how a girl learns to love pain, isn't it? She is stimulated with pleasure to the point of orgasm, and then suddenly given a shot of intense pain - from a whip, perhaps." "Yes, that's how it happened to me. Does it happen like that to all girls?" "Well, to the lucky ones anyway. It's called association. Associating orgasm with pain so that in future pain will always cause orgasm. The right sort of pain, at any rate." "I'm glad I was one of the lucky ones." "So am I. And it doesn't do any harm to reinforce the association occasionally. Ready?" "Yes." I started with the vibrators since they took a few seconds to reach their full effect. As soon as I heard her begin to moan with happiness from the pleasure they were giving her, I switched on the electric current to her breasts. She flung her head back and screamed. Her body tensed in its bonds. I sat and watched her, letting it continue for a full minute, then switched everything off. "How was that?" I asked, when her breathing and heartbeat had returned to something like normal. "Fantastic!" she said, as I had known she would. "More! Oh, more please!" "How long do you want it for?" I asked, teasing her. I already knew the answer. "For ever and ever!" she begged. "Right. I'll set the controls to random, so they can take you by surprise all the time. I don't want you to get bored, with the same thing all the time." I forestalled any argument by turning the vibrators and the clamps on together. She screamed again; then began to moan as she approached orgasm, wriggling prettily in her bonds. Just to prove my point about pain causing orgasm in a well-trained girl, I switched off the vibrators and set the clamps to deliver a variable but always high level of electricity. Soon the screams of agony mingled with strangled cries of "I'm coming, I'm coming!" I nodded to her in a friendly way, and returned all the controls to the "random" setting. "Well, I'll leave you, then. I have work to do. I may even forget you're here. But I'll try not to." I knew of course that the idea of being abandoned and forgotten as the equipment tirelessly pleasured and tormented her would add to her orgasmic stimulation. In fact there was a monitor screen on the desk in my study, intended for just such occasions, so that I could enjoy the sight of my victim as I worked, and make sure she was safe and nothing had gone wrong with the equipment. So there was no danger in leaving her to writhe and scream to her heart's content for as long as I liked. The door to the torture-chamber closed smoothly behind me as I left. I went first to the kitchen and fixed myself something to eat. Only when I had finished and cleared away did I go to my study. On the monitor the girl was still struggling helplessly in orgasmic agony: all seemed to be well. The words began to come easily as I sat in front of the computer, and I was enjoying myself writing a detailed description of a newly opened Tokyo sex-club for an American travel magazine. When I again looked at the time it was past eleven. Ayumi would be home shortly. I went hurriedly to the torture-chamber. She was hanging in her chains, having obviously fainted. I turned off the instruments - gradually, so that her dream would fade slowly and leave happy memories - and released her, then supported her carefully to the narrow couch against the opposite wall. The cool touch of the black leather soon revived her. "Ohh ... ohhh ... that was ... ohhhh!" she said as her eyes opened. "Are you all right?" "Yes ... yes, of course! How long was I there?" "About four hours. I'm sorry - I ..." "Oh, it was wonderful! You must let me have that again next time I come!" "I think you'd better shower now," I said. I wanted her out of the way before Ayumi returned. "Yes ... yes, of course." I supported her down the corridor to the bedroom suite. I unlocked her cuffs, helped her out of her tight high-heels and handed her a big fluffy bath-towel. "Don't be too long," I said. "I have someone coming ..." "Promise ... promise to do that to me again!" she said. "For even longer ... suppose I came for a weekend and you did it to me non-stop?" "Yes, that would be nice," I said, not very keen to have my torture-chamber occupied for such a long time and unavailable for other girls. "But I have another idea. Why don't you do it in public? You know, at a fancy sex-party for example? I could lend the host the equipment - if he doesn't have it already - and you could hang there screaming all night. It would be nice for you, and very stimulating for the other guests." "Oh - that's a lovely idea! Would you do that? I'll let you know next time I'm due at the right sort of party." == Ayumi learnt quickly and I soon decided to move on to training she needed for public appearances. First however she had to have her nipples pierced. She had been begging me for weeks to arrange this for her, and had decided that she could risk any criticism from her mother. While it is of course perfectly possible for a girl to have a successful career in the upper reaches of the sex industry without piercings, Ayumi already had a pretty navel-stud and her pert breasts could only be made more desirable by similar enhancement. While piercings are not yet common in Japan, enough girls have them - especially dancers, strippers and porn models - to make them admired and sought after. So one day I made an appointment for her with a piercing studio. She enjoyed the process and was charmingly grateful to me, even though her beautified breasts, however tempting to my hands and mouth, were strictly off limits for some time while they healed. Once that was over, I started the training in how to make the most of her provocative new beauty in public. Here is another note of a training session I made at the time. == She enters, confident, self-possessed, and stands where I can see her. She does not look at me. She turns, poses: hands behind her neck so that I can enjoy the lift of her breasts; hands stroking her flat stomach; hands caressing the lovely firm curves of her arse. She does not look at me, her audience: she wants me (us) to think she is showing herself off for her own pleasure. As, of course, she is. She is wearing some of the silver decorations I chose for her on her first day here: the metal collar snug round her neck and broad bands in smooth metal round her wrists and also her upper arms - hinting delightfully, for all her independence of attitude, at the slavery she secretly longs to accept. She wears silver sandals with the highest heels she can manage, bound to her feet by long leather thongs twisted round her calves and tied in tight bows. Her naked breasts are decorated with small metal discs, her hard nipples poking saucily through the centre holes. She has removed the little sleepers which hold open the holes I have just paid to have drilled through her nipples, and replaced them with slim silver bars, sharply pointed at each end, which hold the discs in place - and also force her rock-hard nipples into their maximum erection. The pins look as if they had been thrust agonisingly through her flesh rather than simply threaded painlessly through the prepared holes. Imagining the self-inflicted torture she might be suffering, and the stimulation it would give her if she were, adds delightfully to the charmingly arousing effect of the pretty decorations. A matching disc covers her navel, another silver pin attaching it to her stud. She wears nothing else, and her naked pussy is, as always, completely hairless. The innocence of her apparently virginal pussy combines piquantly with the provocatively adult kinkiness she is displaying as she shows off her decorated nudity. She comes closer, still pretending to ignore her audience. She dances sensuously, languorously, keeping for the moment just out of reach of my hands. I try to imagine the effect she will create in a nightclub, against a suitably erotic background and glamorously lit. She plays with a silver rod, a little more than a metre in length, twirling it in her fingers and occasionally pressing one end against her pussy as she dances. I try to forget that I know what this elegant toy can do - her audience in the nightclub will not know; it will be a nice surprise for them. At last she looks at me. With her free hand she unzips my trousers, feels inside and frees my erect cock. She smiles coquettishly and strokes it a few times, making my desire for her even more intense. She moves away, and mimes doing the same to the others in the audience. I long, of course, for her to return to me. Now she holds her rod in both hands. She runs one hand along its full length, pulling a hidden slide. From the end strands of some flexible silver material begin to emerge. She plays with them, separating them, kissing them. They are very fine, little more than silver wires. They will glitter beautifully in the nightclub lighting. She steps forward again, raises the rod above her head, and allows the tips of the strands to tickle my cock and balls. The effect is very agreeable - then suddenly more than that, as the metallic coating makes me tingle delightfully. She pulls the strands away from me; then brings them back, this time with a flick of her wrist so that they whip me lightly. I try to control myself: I don't want to come - yet. At last she reverses the rod and with a little bow passes the handle to me. She turns her back, and stands there in her heels, her hands locked behind her neck. She says nothing: there is no need to, I know what she wants. It is what I want too. I twist the control at the handle end of the rod and ensure that the electrical charge from the hidden battery is at its maximum. Then I raise the whip and bring its lashes down hard on her arse. At the high setting the battery makes the slim wires emit flashes as well as shocks as they make contact with her skin. She lets out a little gasp, no more. I whip her again and again, on her bottom, her upper thighs, her back. I make sure the lashes stay in contact with her skin after each stroke so that she may enjoy their electric tingling. She begins to whimper. After I have whipped her twenty, thirty times she turns slowly to face me. Does she want me to whip her breasts and stomach and pussy now? No; she pushes me into my chair. I lie back, guessing what she wants, my erection rising proudly from my open trousers. She pulls my trousers and underpants down; then straddles me and gradually, tantalisingly, impales herself on my cock. Her pussy is wet and slick with the love-juice called up by the electrified whipping, and my erection slides into her easily. I imagine the spotlights glistening on her erotic metal decorations. She takes full control of the fuck, varying her speed to satisfy her desire. Her cunt muscles ripple beautifully along the length of my shaft. At last when I feel I can stand it no longer, she releases me. I feel her slide to the floor, and now my erection is being serviced by her expert mouth. I come, with a great shout of release; she holds me for a while, then sucks up every drop of my cum. She sits back on her heels, relishing it, playing with it on her tongue, using her fingertips to retrieve any drops which have spurted onto her face, and at last swallows it slowly. She rises, makes a gesture round the imaginary audience to show that, if she could, she would service them next, and leaves the room. At last she returns, still dressed in her erotic jewellery, but now smiling with charming deference. "That was good, Ayumi," I say. "Very good." "Thank you, sir." "Do you feel you could manage an audience of, what - say ten or a dozen men?" "Of course, sir!" she says, her face lighting up. "I mean, it was lovely doing it with you - but I'd only just started!" I look at her and smile. "Right," I say. "Tomorrow I'll take you to meet the manager of a fetish club I know. Of course, he'll want to try you out himself, before he lets you get to work on his customers." Ayumi smiled happily. "You must remember that they are highly specialised. They have very particular tastes which you'll be expected to satisfy." "Even more particular than yours, sir?" she says coquettishly. "Oh, yes. I'm just an amateur. At this club you'll be meeting some highly skilled fetishists and sadists." "Oooh, nice!" She looks at me again. "What would you like me to wear now, sir?" "Why don't you stay just as you are? Those silver decorations really appeal to me." She wriggles coquettishly. "Do they? I'm so glad!" "Especially those little discs fixed to your breasts, held by the needles piercing your nipples ..." "Yes, they are rather pretty, aren't they?" "Of course, I know you have holes there already, for your nipple-rings and so on, but it really looks as if you've had the needles stuck straight through your breasts. It's very erotic and arousing." "Fetishistic?" she asks, stumbling over the word; "sadistic?" "Yes. Very." "Nice!" she says again. "Thank you, sir! I am _so_ happy that I please you." == It is the evening of Ayumi's first public performance. She has been excited all day, and a little nervous - though I know she will do me credit. I have arranged things with the manager of a striptease theatre who owes me some favours: I have written up his establishment in my articles for American magazines. We discussed whether Ayumi should come up out of the audience pretending to be a volunteer longing to go nude on "Amateur Night"; but in the end we thought she should be presented on stage as a newcomer keen to display her skills to the audience. And yes of course, I answered my friend's anxious questions, she will gladly fuck any man who wants her, on stage and off. He has promised to ask no questions about her age; and anyway he won't be paying for Ayumi's services. We have dressed her in a sparkling dress of midnight blue, with a halter neck and the short skirt tight round her arse. It's not the sort of dress that falls off easily: she will have to wriggle it down over her hips, which should be pretty and tantalising to watch. Underneath she is wearing a sexy bra and panties. We argued a bit about her legs. Of course a stripper does not wear tights - they are clumsy and tiresome to remove - but fishnet stockings held up by garters are a pleasing sight on an otherwise naked girl. Nevertheless Ayumi is so excited at the prospect of being fully nude on her first public appearance that in the end I give way and agree her legs shall be bare. For shoes she wears high-heeled platforms, fixed to her feet with silver straps and with the three-inch soles and eight-inch heels made of transparent plastic. Normally I think platforms look cheap and vulgar - the sort of thing South-East Asian street prostitutes wear - but they have advantages for a girl appearing nude in public, giving her extra height so that she can be seen more easily. And of course they help if she is to be fucked standing up - on a dance-floor, for example, or against a wall. So there is the public stage she is to occupy for the first time, before her first paying audience. It is a sort of catwalk or _hanamichi_, projecting from the rudimentary curtains quite a long way into the audience area. The spectators sit on either side: nearly all Japanese but a few Western men, attracted perhaps - who knows? - by my articles recommending this place. I have a seat in the front row along one side, thinking that Ayumi might want someone she knows and trusts within easy reach when we get to the interactive part of her performance. The Manager comes on stage to announce the first appearance of a brilliant new talent. No one pays any attention: the Japanese because they've heard it all before and don't believe it anyway, the foreigners because they can't understand. Then Ayumi enters through the curtains and stands shyly under the lights, her figure-hugging dress hinting at the pleasures to come. There are a few murmurs of approval from the Japanese, and some more enthusiastic cat-calls from the foreigners. I listen in to a brief conversation between the Japanese behind me, and learn that the Manager has cannily spread a rumour among his regular customers that this new "talent" is only sixteen. For a moment I am annoyed on Ayumi's behalf: she is a year older than that - or has always told me she is - and sixteen sounds like an inexperienced schoolgirl, while at seventeen a girl is in the first bloom of her sexual beauty. But then I decide it doesn't matter: the Manager is the best judge of his clients and their tastes! She walks up and down a couple of times, balancing sexily on her platforms and letting them all have a good look at her. Then she stops, lifts her arms and slowly pulls apart the bow behind her neck. The front of her tight blue dress begins to fall, but not far - yet. Another walk up and down the platform, her bottom wriggling prettily, and she stops near the curtains, where the lights are strongest, turns her back, and reaches behind herself with one hand so she can slide the zip fastener down her dress to her waist. She turns to face us again, holding the front of her dress against herself, then lets it fall. Of course she is wearing a bra, a silver one, under her dress; but it is an uplift bra designed to support and shape her breasts without covering them. Big silver rings glitter in her nipples, hanging from her newly pierced holes - they are removable ones, she has not yet had permanent decorations fitted to her breasts. The audience like what they see. She walks to the centre of the stage and begins to wriggle her hips in time to the music, her fingers slowly, very slowly, pushing down the tight dress. At last it falls to the ground, revealing pretty backless panties in silver to match her bra, the triangle of cloth in front just concealing her pussy while the sweet curve of her arse is fully uncovered. There is a round of subdued applause. Ayumi steps out of the circle of her fallen dress, bends down while keeping her legs straight, scoops it up and walks back to the curtains to pass it to an unseen stagehand. Now she is walking up and down the stage again, half-dancing in time to the music, her breasts in the pretty uplift bra bouncing charmingly. She makes no eye-contact with the audience, and has only a withdrawn smile on her face. Of course the next step is the removal of her bra: she knows it, we all know it. She stops suddenly, and her hands reach behind her back as if to unfasten it. But she thinks better of it; she walks to the edge of the stage on the side away from me, kneels down with her back to a man in the audience, looks at him sweetly over her shoulder, and murmurs "Undress me - please!". She lets out a little squeal of pleasure as he takes the opportunity to fondle her, and thanks him demurely. She stands again, holding the bra loosely against herself; then, turning from side to side so that we can all see, lets it fall down her arms and tosses it aside. It is soon removed by a souvenir-hunter. She walks up and down again, her arms waving above her head, only the little silver triangle decorating her crotch separating her from the perfect nudity that everyone in the little theatre - including above all herself - is longing for. I feel very proud of her. She has worked so hard for this, practicing in my living-room and listening attentively to my lectures on the gestures and movements which stimulate male desire. There is an electric atmosphere of lust. Everyone in the club is concentrating on just one thing: the imminent revelation of Ayumi's cunt. I can tell how it is stimulating her, and how her own lust at least equals ours. Somehow she finds the self-control to make us wait - to make herself wait. Her clever fingers stroke her clit and pussy through the scrap of cloth. She is squealing with desire, and moaning "Oh, I'm coming! I want to be nude! I want it _so_ much - may I? May I please?" And of course we all, even the most jaded and blase Japanese, call out "Yes! Yes! Take it off! Be nude!" She too is saying "Yes! Yes!" and starts to fiddle with the little strings on her hips. The right bow is slowly pulled apart. Then the left, while her right hand holds the silver scrap against her pussy. Then, with a gesture not of triumph, not of consent, but rather of orgasmic relief, she pulls it away. She stands with her feet apart, her head upturned, her eyes closed, breathing deeply while the audience relish her exquisite nakedness. Then she comes to herself, and parades sexily before them, flaunting her hairless nudity, the little panties dangling from her right hand. There is a slight sense of unease among the audience. Does this girl understand what is supposed to happen next? Or is this inexperienced beginner expecting to leave it at that? And if so, should they let her, or take the initiative and go up on stage to join her, rape her without being invited? They should know Ayumi better, I think. Well, they soon will. For her, this is only the beginning. Nudity is just the teasing prelude to fucking - as much, and as varied, fucking as she can get. She should get plenty tonight, I think! And she knows I am here for her if she prefers to begin with a familiar partner rather than a stranger. She takes her time. But at last she makes her choice: not me, but a man seated on the other side of the stage. She stands before him, fresh, eager, exquisitely desirable, her calves and thighs tense with desire and stretched by her teetering stance in her platform shoes. She dangles her silver panties over him, tickling his head and face with the little strings. He grabs them; but she holds tight to the other end. She pulls firmly; now he is rising from his seat while the rest of the audience cheer and applaud; now he is ascending the two steps to join her on the stage. They stand together for a while, he stroking her breasts and pussy while her ecstatic face shows how she is enjoying it. One man at a time was never enough for Ayumi. She pulls a little away from her lover and holds out her hand to a second, who quickly joins her on stage. She helps the two men out of their clothes, kneels between them and strokes their erect cocks. Soon she is stroking one and sucking the other; sucking one and stroking the other; trying to get both into her mouth at once. Then they are on the floor with her, one vigorously fingering her cunt while the other kisses her, fondling and pinching her breasts. But these are only delightful stages on the way to Ayumi receiving both cocks simultaneously in her love-holes. She is on hands and knees, preparing to be spit-roasted in the classic manner: one man penetrates her cunt while the other thrusts his cock deep into her mouth and down her throat. She cannot speak, but her vigorous to-and-fro movement tells everyone how much she is loving being used like that. The two men are of course stimulated by the excitement of taking this lovely, willing girl and doing so in front of an audience. They come quickly: first the man in her mouth, then the other. They do not pull out at once - she does not let them. But at last the cock pops out of her cunt, letting the creamy juices pour from her; then she releases the one in her mouth, the cum dribbling onto her hand before she licks it up again and swallows happily. A stage-hand runs on with a pile of damp cloths: she wipes herself then helps to clean her lovers. They scramble into their clothes and leave the stage to appreciative applause and laughter. Gradually Ayumi stands up. She turns, showing herself to the audience on all sides, walks towards the curtains, then returns. She has the happy, almost virginal look of a well-fucked girl who is - for the moment - well satisfied. At the tip of the _hanamichi_ she stands in her lovely nakedness, waving and smiling at the audience. Tentatively, she places one foot on the first of the shallow steps leading off the stage. The men nearest her cheer and urge her on. Now she has both feet on the step. She pretends to be shy. Then, slowly, exaggerating her precariousness and helplessness in the absurdly high platform shoes, she joins the admiring audience. They rise to receive her, arms outstretched, hands clutching at her and stroking her. From where I am sitting I can hear her whimpering and moaning with pleasure. Then her voice rises: "Oh, yes! Oh _yes_!" she cries, "All of you! Yes, everyone - _every_ cock - I must have them _all_! Oh, please!" She disappears from sight as she is seized by so many loving lustful hands and, squealing with pleasure, passed from man to man. FOOTNOTES [8] Adult, that is pornographic, videos. [9] See note 21. [10] The yearning of Japanese men for the daughters they never saw grow up because of their long hours at work - the Lolita Complex or _rorikon_ - is matched by the longing of young girls for the father figures they hardly knew - the Father Complex or _fazakon_. When the two meet the result is deeply satisfying. _Gaijin_ men like me enjoy relationships with young girls in Japan which we could only dream of at home - which is why we do not leave. [11] See "The Rock-Hard Club", _Unfinished Affairs_ Chapter VIII. [12] I use them a lot myself on my more advanced pupils and can strongly recommend them, despite the extra cost. The little metal jaws are designed to bite painfully without actually drawing blood. Once a girl has experienced them she will never be satisfied with the simpler kind of clamp. [13] As surely every man knows, when a girl's nipples erect it is an infallible sign that she is sexually aroused. It is not a thing she can fake or control. This is especially useful in sado-masochism: when you are whipping a girl she may be in apparently genuine anguish and begging you to spare her - but if her nipples are erect you know she is just pretending and is in fact nicely stimulated and approaching orgasm. [14] If you have read _I Am Not Ashamed_, the story of Megumi Kato's friend Kimiko Kobayashi, you may recognise the Pink Salon Bara: it is the establishment Kimiko visited as part of her Second Test (see Chapter XIV). Of course Kimiko had then just discovered the joys of sex and was working hard to make up for all she had missed during the years she had wasted as a prim little prude - and the Salon with its 15-minute sessions was just what she wanted at that stage of her sexual development. [Next in Part 05: Saeko: Perfect Harmony] For complete series so far see /files/Authors/Bob_Williams