The party was to be held in a large house belonging to a wealthy foreign businessman. It had taken me several days of negotiation to get invited: my detailed description of Natsuko’s talents and enthusiasms had finally won the argument. I did not want to make her more nervous than she already was, so I had not told her how much depended on her. I was sure she would not let me down.

I drove up a short gravelled drive and stopped outside an imposing front door. A young man dressed in black checked my name against a list, then looked across me at Natsuko.

“You are bringing tonight’s new victim, is that right?” he asked.

“Yes. Her name is Natsuko.”

“She knows what she is in for, does she?”

“Oh, yes!” said Natsuko, before I could reply.

The young man walked round to her side and opened the door for her. Natsuko climbed carefully out of the car. Instructed by the young man, she left her coat on her seat, then held out her hands while he clicked handcuffs onto her wrists. There was a long chain attached to them, and he led her into the house by it, telling me curtly to park at the back of the house. It looked as if my involvement in the party was limited to providing the “victim”, as the young man had put it.

When I returned to the front door I was worried that I would not be allowed in—but no one objected as I made my way to the main room. There were a dozen or fifteen men there, nearly all naked and splendidly erect. Natsuko was already the centre of attention, her wrists still handcuffed. She had an ecstatic smile on her face as she looked at the erections pointing at her. I wondered if she realised how much she would have to endure before being allowed to enjoy them.

More interesting from my point of view were the six beautiful naked girls kneeling on the floor. Each wore broad cuffs of polished steel on her wrists and ankles, and a matching collar fitting snugly round her neck. They were kneeling because their wrist cuffs were padlocked to the corresponding ankle cuffs; and their upper bodies were held in the most convenient position by short steel bars joining the backs of their collars to the cuffs. The man nearest me was straddling one of the girls as her tongue and lips sucked his balls. A clever idea, I thought: girls arranged as helpless fucking machines for the use of guests as they liked. I went over to an unoccupied girl: she opened her mouth expectantly as I examined her more closely. Her nipples were pierced by steel rings, and there was a matching stud fitted to her navel. I knelt beside her and felt her pussy, making her moan with desire. As I had thought, her cunt lips were similarly fitted with little rows of steel rings on each side, and there was another metal decoration piercing her flesh at the uppermost point of her pussy, just above her clitoris. It was a little hook and a tiny curved steel bar hung from it—at present motionless like herself in her kneeling, bent-back posture. I flicked it with a finger: it rose, and then its point fell heavily onto her clit. She moaned again. I had read about such devices: at every movement the girl made, at every step she took, the little hammer would tap against her love-button, keeping her in a permanent state of near-orgasm. Assuming, of course, that she was naked under her skirt, as I was sure she always was. I wondered whether Natsuko had yet noticed this exquisite set of steel jewellery, and how long it would be before she started begging to be similarly equipped and pierced.

I turned away, and looked to see what had happened to the star of the evening. Her hands had been freed from the simple handcuffs in which she had entered the room, and men were fitting her with steel cuffs and a collar matching those worn by the beautiful submissive girls. When they had finished, the host said:

“Why are you here, Natsuko?”

“Please, to be tortured,” she replied in a little breathy voice.

Good, I thought. A simple request for punishment would hardly stimulate the appetites of these sophisticates. Exquisite torture of willing victims was more in their line.

“Have you been trained in masochism?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, looking towards me. “My Master …”

He turned to me.

“I have trained her to the best of my ability,” I said without waiting to be asked. “She has a great natural talent. But she has much more to learn. That is why I have brought her here tonight.”

“Good. She knows, of course, that we make no exceptions—that she must endure everything that the victims before her have endured?” He gestured vaguely at the kneeling girls on the floor.

“Yes,” I said.

“Oh, yes. Please!” said Natsuko.

The host ignored her.

“She has not yet been pierced. In her breasts, her cunt …” It was a statement, not a question. “Girls who join our group must be pierced with steel decorations in the way we have prescribed.”

“I know,” I said, even though I had not till a few moments ago. “She is keen to undergo it. But there are difficulties. She is still at school … her teachers … her parents …”

“Well,” he said, “let us begin.”

Natsuko’s steel wrist-cuffs were locked together and attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling. The chain was raised till she was standing on tiptoe. Another beautiful slave-girl, her nudity decorated like the others’ but not forced into the kneeling position, brought a tray of whips and canes. Those men who wanted to participate in Natsuko’s torture chose their implements; others elected only to watch and beckoned to kneeling slaves to creep forward and give them extra stimulation with their ready, open mouths.

I will say Natsuko did well for a beginner. The men took it in turns to apply their sophisticated instruments to her bottom, thighs and breasts, and she responded by twisting and turning attractively under the lashes, squealing and begging them to stop, begging for more, till she herself hardly knew the difference.

But that was just the beginning. The chain fixed to her wrists was lowered a little, and others descended from the ceiling to be attached to her ankles—now locked together—and collar, while a fourth tightly embraced her corseted waist. Together they lifted her into space, pulling her body into a whole variety of abstract shapes as the whips and canes continued to torment and delight her.

Then it was time for some electric shock torture. I could see now why the steel body jewellery was so important to this group’s rituals: wires would normally be attached to the rings fixed to the chosen victim’s breasts and cunt. But they managed without, fixing the clips firmly to Natsuko’s nipples, cunt-lips and clitoris. For this she was returned to her earlier standing position, but steel stretcher-bars were fixed to her, holding her arms and legs apart. Her pretty silver shoes were removed and her feet were instead fixed to curved steel platforms shaped like shoes with the highest heels I had ever seen her wear. Each toe had its own special socket at the front of the platform, and the ingenious shoes were bound to her feet by narrow steel straps. The Master controlled the electrical current from a keypad passed to him by one of the nude slaves.

“Are you ready, Natsuko?” he enquired.

“Yes, Master,” came a breathy, nervous little voice I hardly recognised, “your slave is ready.”

“This will be quite a new experience for you, I think,” he said.

“Yes—your slave is longing for it.”

He began to press buttons on the keypad, and as the current flowed tingling through her sensitive flesh Natsuko began to writhe and scream. I could now understand the point of the steel shoes: each little toe was being given its own individual level of torment. I recalled the assistant in the Asakusa shoe-shop telling Natsuko about the erotic power of toes. The chains began to lift her again, and soon Natsuko was hanging high up near the ceiling, stretched into a star shape, the electric wires dangling. The Master turned to his lieutenants.

“I think we can leave her up there for a while, don’t you? I’ll set the keypad to ‘random’ so she won’t know what to expect.”

“Aren’t we going to fuck her?” asked one of the men.

“Oh, yes. I thought we might use the wheel tonight.”

“Good.”

“But not quite yet. Meanwhile let’s leave her to scream for half-an-hour or so. Her screams are unsophisticated but have a certain naïve charm, don’t you think?”

Without waiting for an answer he adjusted the settings on his keypad, then walked over to an unoccupied slave and set her to work sucking his erect cock. As a newcomer I had to wait till one was free to attend to me. When at last she was, she sucked me expertly, swallowed my cum neatly, licked her lips, murmured “Thank you, Sir!” and remained obediently in her elegantly curved posture, waiting till she was required again.

By the time the half-hour had ended, Natsuko’s screams had settled into a steady moaning, rising and falling with the electricity surging through her. The Master decreed a pause before the next part of the evening. Natsuko was lowered to the floor and freed from the equipment fixed to her body. The slave-girls too were released from their bonds and stood up cautiously, flexing their cramped muscles. They gathered round Natsuko, congratulating her on her performance so far, and taking her off to the bathroom to be cleaned and prettified.

As always after a profound sexual experience, Natsuko returned from the bathroom looking fresh and innocent. She was still wearing her shiny black corset and now wore her silver high-heeled shoes—and of course the steel ankle- and wrist-cuffs fitted earlier in the evening. Looking her over, I was pleased with my choice of black-and-silver. The contrast between the sophisticated outfit and her air of youthful innocence was piquant. I hoped for her sake it appealed to the men present, and would ensure that when the fucking started they would satisfy her. The Master addressed the bevy of nude slave-girls.

“You know what’s coming next?”

They giggled and wriggled. They knew.

“Who’d like to be her partner?”

“Oh, me!” “Please me!” “I haven’t done it for weeks!” they begged eagerly.

The Master turned to me.

“Well, she’s your girl. You choose her partner.”

The girls gathered round me imploringly. I suddenly had an idea.

“Which is the youngest?”

“Asako, you’re the youngest, aren’t you?” the Master said; and then without waiting for an answer turned to me, “You like them young, do you?”

“Oh yes,” I said firmly. “And it’s especially nice to hear them scream.”

“Yes, introducing a young girl to pain is very satisfying. Asako, you’d better get into a corset and heels like hers.”

Asako and some of the girls vanished into another room. She soon reappeared tightly bound into a shiny black corset and teetering on high stiletto heels. The combination with the steel rings piercing her breasts and cunt was delightfully pretty. I could see Natsuko thought so too.

“Right, you two,” instructed the Master, when he had finished testing Asako’s corset for tightness: “on hands and knees, bottom to bottom.”

Both girls’ wrist-cuffs were locked together, but instead of locking their ankles the slave-girls quickly bound their lower legs together with rope, so that Natsuko’s right was firmly tied to Asako’s left and vice versa. As they knelt back-to-back unable to move apart, their bottoms rested sweetly against each other.

“Now the electrics,” said the Master.

A little microphone attached to a small black box was placed in front of each girl’s face. Each was wired to the girls’ breasts and cunts, Asako’s wires clipped direct to Natsuko’s bare nipples and clitoris, Natsuko’s to the rings piercing Asako’s. I began to understand. This was going to be fun! Next the girls were made to lean away from each other for a moment while a thick double-ended dildo in shining metal was inserted first into Asako’s cunt and then into Natsuko’s, and their legs tied even more firmly together so that the girls could not pull apart from each other more than a centimetre or two. The Master pressed a button and the girls began to squirm as the metal bar vibrated and wriggled inside them delivering its random electrical tingling.

“You get the idea?” said the Master to me. “They can’t escape from it—and the nice thing is, they’re not masturbating solo, each girl is stimulating the other. The more one girl wriggles, the more the other end of the instrument excites her partner and makes her wriggle too. Don’t they look pretty?”

They certainly did. But I was sure this expert sadist had more in mind for his slaves than just making them look pretty and squeal happily in their lust. I was right: the Master pressed another button.

“Sound on!” he remarked briefly.

Now Natsuko’s squeals into the microphone in front of her started to deliver electric current to Asako’s breasts and cunt, and Asako’s screams in response delivered ever-increasing torment to Natsuko’s nipples and clit in return. As the Master had said, the lovely thing about this equipment was that each girl was stimulating the other, and the more she made her partner scream the more intense the electric shocks she received in return. The two girls were coming endlessly now, wriggling their bottoms against each other as much as their ropes would allow and interspersing their screams with love and thanks to each other.

“Charming sight, isn’t it?” said the Master. “Well, let’s leave them to it for a while. When they’re both nicely warmed up we can do some really enjoyable things to them.”

There was a bar at one end of the room, serviced by a pretty slave-girl, wearing only the glittering steel cuffs and piercings of the standard uniform for slaves in this house. She smiled charmingly and asked me what I would like to drink. My throat was dry from the excitement of watching Natsuko enjoying herself and I asked for a beer.

“Sapporo Black Label, if you have it,” I added.

“Of course, sir!”

She looked submissively towards the Master.

He nodded briefly and she prepared a malt whisky with a splash of water, obviously his regular drink. At a gesture from the Master I joined him in a pair of comfortable leather armchairs. Another slave-girl stepped from behind the bar. I thought at first she was carrying a tray, but then I noticed her wrist-cuffs were locked behind her back. One side of the tray was fixed to a steel belt fitted snugly round her slim waist. The outer edge was held steady by two chains clipped to the rings in her nipples. The girl behind the bar placed our drinks on the tray, and she knelt carefully between us in an upright position, her tray forming a convenient table for us. She was completely motionless and there was not a ripple in either glass—even when the Master casually stroked and patted her bottom.

I nodded approvingly and smiled at the girl. She remained as immobile as a statue.

“She’s been specially trained,” said the Master. “She knows she is not allowed to move a muscle. And if she spills even a drop of the drinks she will be punished very severely. Try if you like.”

His hand had moved round to the girl’s crotch and was casually flicking the little metal hammer poised over her clitoris. Watching her carefully I thought I could just detect her breath coming a little faster as the clever decoration tapped repeatedly against her love-button—nothing more.

I decided not to take advantage of her, enjoyable though it might have been for both of us. Instead I turned to my host.

“Very charming,” I said. “The perfect waitress. Are all your slaves trained to serve like this?”

“No—it requires a special temperament. I don’t force my slaves to attempt things for which they are not fitted. I am a sadist, but not randomly cruel. My aim is to torture girls in ways that give them the greatest sexual pleasure. That way we both enjoy it, and they keep coming back to act as slaves at these parties. They know they will be required to do only the things they most enjoy doing.”

He paused and looked sharply at me. I nodded to show I understood.

“Or most enjoy having done to them,” I added reflectively.

He took a mouthful of whisky and replaced the glass on the kneeling slave’s tray.

“Not every girl is capable of restraining her outward sexual excitement as perfectly as she is. If we could look inside this slave’s head I expect we would see the most torrential orgasm kept under iron control so that it is not betrayed by the slightest movement. That forces the orgasm inwards so that it is purely mental.” With the hand that had been flicking the little steel hammer against her clitoris he began to stroke her arse, one finger briefly entering her anus. She remained entirely motionless. “She is probably having a kind of out-of-body experience and hardly knows where she is. She is very gifted. The first time I whipped her—just generally, you see, trying to establish what she enjoyed most—I was struck by how she made no response. It annoyed me at first: I thought she was challenging me, holding out on me. So I whipped her even harder.”

“Of course.”

“Then I understood that she was internalising the pleasure, the way I described. So the challenge was to design new tortures for her that would raise her out-of-body experiences to the highest pitch. We men should be so lucky!”

I thought for a moment that my regular hour—more than an hour—of sexual torment by Natsuko and her little friends verged on an out-of-body experience. I must try to feel it that way next time. The idea restored my attention to what was happening to Natsuko now.

“That’s a clever piece of equipment you are using on my girl,” I said thoughtfully. “Just right for beginners. You know, young girls who are discovering sex and haven’t got much further than playing with their schoolfriends. Tickling each other’s breasts and bottoms after gym.”

Of course Natsuko had got much further than that, but I wanted him and his friends to discover her talents for themselves.

“That’s an idea,” he said. “It would be nice to watch, as a sort of interlude. I must ask the girls if they have any young friends they could bring along.” He took another sip of his drink, then put it down again on the slave’s motionless tray. “But you don’t think we’d be training them up to be lesbians?”

“All young Japanese girls are a bit lesbian,” I said. “It’s part of their charm. Fortunately it’s balanced by an equally strong father fixation.”

Another beautiful slave-girl came over to us and bowed respectfully. Her steel jewellery tinkled and glittered in the light.

“Excuse me, Masters,” she said, “we think you should know that the newcomer has fainted.”

“Thanks,” he said. “We’ll come over and take a look in a moment.”

When we had finished our drinks and returned to the scene of action, Natsuko was lying collapsed on the carpet as far as her bonds would allow. Her bottom was wriggling spasmodically against Asako’s but she was no longer screaming.

“Often happens,” said the Master. “She’ll be floating now, in some kind of heaven of her own. But I’ll bring her down gradually.”

Slowly the pulsing of the double dildo ceased, and the girls were released. I sat on the floor beside Natsuko and rested her head on my lap. At last she opened her eyes.

“Ohhh!” she said. And then “Ohhh!” again, a great sigh of contentment. “That was marvellous!” She raised her head and looked around. She held out her arms to Asako, who quickly joined her. For a moment I had both girls squirming together on my lap. It was a good moment.

“Oh, Asako!” she said. “Oh, I love you!”

“I love you too, Natsuko,” said Asako.

The two girls scrambled up and, their arms round each other’s tightly corseted waists, started off towards the wash-room. Then they stopped and kissed passionately.

“What was that you were saying about lesbianism?” said the Master, with a grin.

“It makes it even more fun to fuck them,” I said, “knowing they may be secretly dreaming of a girl-friend.” I looked after the two girls till they had disappeared, teetering delightfully together on their heels. “Now didn’t you say something about a wheel? Something tells me Natsuko will enjoy that, whatever it is.”

The promised equipment was ready for her when she and her new friend returned. It was in fact a double circular steel frame: two wheels, with cross-bars between them, standing about a metre and a half high and turning freely within a stand. Natsuko was fascinated by it, obviously longing to discover what it would do to her.

“Now, Natsuko,” said the Master, “you have done well so far, and this is your final reward. And ours, of course.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“We shall leave you in your corset. It looks pretty on you, and you obviously enjoy wearing it. And of course your steel cuffs and collar.”

The slaves neatly tied her hair so that it would not be caught in the machinery. Then they made her stand with the curve of the wheel behind her, and fixed her to it leaning backwards in a taut semicircle.

“Is there anything else you would like before we start?” asked the Master.

“If it’s all right,” said Natsuko in a sweet little voice from the top of the wheel, her face towards the ceiling, “may I wear my nipple-clamps?”

“She has a special pair she loves,” I explained quickly, and went to where I had left my clothes. I handed the clamps to the Master.

“Did you give her these?” he asked, examining them. “They are a generous gift for so young a girl. Antiques, I think. Does she deserve them?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “And they give her something to live up to in future.”

“Very well. Perhaps you’d better fit them on her.”

The big wheel to which Natsuko was fixed could be turned on its bearings to any desired position. I turned it a little towards me so that I could conveniently reach her breasts. They were flattened somewhat against her chest from the backward-leaning curve in which she was bound. She quivered and moaned slightly as I attached the clamps to her erect nipples.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” she murmured as I twisted them tight.

“Nice?” I asked.

“Wonderful!” she replied. “What are they going to do to me?”

“Well, I think this wheel can be turned to any position.” I turned it slowly through 360 degrees, Natsuko’s body of course travelling with it. “So you see,” I continued as she returned to her original position, “your mouth and cunt can be arranged conveniently for fucking from any angle.”

“Ooh, what fun!”

And so it was, for all of us. From Natsuko’s point of view the best was when she was laid out on the top of the wheel so that one man could take her cunt, another could take her mouth, and two others could stand either side and whip her breasts and thighs.

After we had all taken her as many times as we could manage, we tried another game. She was released from the wheel, turned on her front and bound to it again. It was then turned fast, and as she span quickly round on it, letting out little cries of excitement, we whipped her, aiming as best we could at her bottom.

When it was all over, the Master spoke to me.

“Your girl is a success. She has talent, and loves the work. She may come again as a slave whenever she likes. But there is a condition. I told you what we require.”

“Yes, but …”

“I understand your difficulties. But you, and she, will have to find some way of overcoming them. We make no exceptions about the—er—uniform, shall I say? that our slaves are required to wear.” He smiled. “I think she will find a way. She is desperate to be used by us again. It is her vocation. Or a part of it, at least. It would be a shame to prevent her.”

***

Before we fell asleep that night Natsuko had something important to say.

“I want,” she said, “to have my breasts and navel and pussy pierced and fitted with rings and things the way those girls had.”

“Oh, darling,” I said desperately, “I want you to have that too. But you know it’s impossible.”

“Why is it impossible? If I want to go to parties at that house again as a slave—and I do, I do!—I must have it done. You heard what the Master said.”

“Natsuko, for Heaven’s sake be realistic. I’ll buy you the steel cuffs and collar any time you like.”

“Didn’t those slave-girls look beautiful kneeling like that for the men to use? With that lovely steel bar attaching their necks to their ankles? It must have felt wonderful to be forced into that lovely position. Didn’t you think they were beautiful?”

“Yes, very,” I said shortly. “And incredibly arousing.”

“There you are then. Don’t you want me to look incredibly arousing?”

“Of course I do. And I’ve said I’ll buy you the cuffs and things. They’re not permanent. You can wear them when you’re with me and keep them here. You’ll look lovely wearing them. But you can’t have the body piercing and the rings. Not yet.”

“But I must! Asako told me she’d just recently been accepted as a slave at those parties, like me, and of course she has to have the decorations. She said having them fitted was a thrilling experience, and wearing them feels absolutely lovely … Oh, isn’t Asako beautiful? She’s promised to be my friend. Her school is quite near mine and she gave me her number. We’re going to meet next week. Ohhh!” she said, looking angelic, “I so want us to make love together again.” She giggled naughtily. “Wouldn’t you like to watch?”

“Very much,” I said. “Isn’t she older than you?”

“No, she’s sixteen too. And, d’you know, she wants to be a nude model and a sex actress just like I do. She’s already done some modelling and has had lots of offers to appear in clubs and and … Oh, isn’t she wonderful? She’s promised to help me get started.”

“Photographers and directors won’t want you with permanent body piercings, now, will they?” I said.

As I started saying it it seemed a good argument. I immediately realised it wasn’t.

“They want Asako like that!” said Natsuko triumphantly. “And so they’ll want me! And I must have them! Asako showed me hers when we were in the bathroom together, and told me all about them. Especially the lovely little steel hammer thing that taps against your clitoris every time you move. She said it was wonderful. There was no way she could escape from it, and it drove her mad with desire. Don’t you want me to be mad with desire? Always?”

She reached out and began to stroke my erection. Soon I knew she would start to slide her finger up my arse, and I would lose all control.

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Every time I move, every step I take, the little hammer bringing me to the brink of orgasm …”

“So long as you’re not wearing panties to hold it still.”

“Well, obviously, I wouldn’t be, would I? So can I have it done?”

“But how are you going to hide all this metal from your mother? Or from your school?”

“There must be a way. There must be. Asako has them. After all, body piercing and jewellery are quite fashionable now.”

“Well,” I said, compromising as usual, “you find a way of stopping your mother and your school interfering, and I’ll pay for you to have it done.”

“Including the little hammer tap-tap-tapping against my clit?”

“Certainly including that.”

“Ohhh … don’t you think I’ll look beautiful decorated like those slaves were?”

“Yes I do,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady.

“And I can go to parties wearing nothing else …”

“Of course.”

“And be chained up as a slave ready to do anything the men want …”

“Yes.”

“And then we come back here … and you will take me to your torture-chamber and whip me and put that electric thing into my pussy till I faint with pleasure, like I did with Asako this evening?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“And when we go out I can walk down the street wearing all my new decorations under just a teeny, teeny microskirt … topless … no panties …”

“Now, hang on a minute.”

“Well, you just said I could never wear panties again once I had my cunt decoration fitted.”

“That wasn’t quite what I said.”

“Anyway, if you won’t let me be topless in public I can wear my lovely new nipple-clamps like I did today.”

“Yes, but …”

“Won’t you be proud of me looking so beautiful and desirable? Where everyone can see me and want me and envy you for having me?”

“Well, yes, of course, but …”

“And me mad with desire, all the time, like I said?”

As usual I had lost the argument.