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American Whore

Category: Fetish
25.11.2018
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I received an email from Greg the Pornographer. He had shot my first porn scene, and what I had thought would be my last. He said a Japanese porn company was in town and they were looking for an American girl to shoot with. He said the pay was excellent — $5000 for a one-day shoot! But they did very extreme porn. And none of it would be released in America.

Hmmm.

The reason I thought my porn career would be brief was that I didn’t want my parents to know. But if it would only be released in Japan, that could be different.

I wanted to know what Greg the Pornographer found to be extreme. I mean, the scene I did for him had lesbian sex, a gang bang with nine dudes and my first real double penetration. I actually thought my scene was pretty extreme!

I was wrong.

Greg had uploaded a few movies to his Dropbox account, which I watched. There was spitting, puking, pissing and bukkake scenes. I actually gagged during some of the scenes. The girls were being destroyed.

But I had to keep watching. I couldn’t turn away.

In some of the scenes, the girls looked like they were having a good time. But in others, it just looked like plain humiliation. The girls were being degraded, and some of them were crying at the end. But then I’d get to the Behind the Scenes parts, and the girls would wipe away their tears, smile and receive bouquets of flowers.

And then I got it. This was as much about BDSM, or at least sunmission, as it was about sex. It was about what these girls would do to get off, even if it was disgusting.

I was beginning to get turned on.

I took off my clothes and went into the bathroom to take some nude selfies, then sent them to the email address Greg had forwarded me. Later that afternoon, I got a call.

Her name was Marin Izumi, and she was directing and producing the video. She had an accent, but her English was really very good. Her company was based in Tokyo, but they had opened up an office in LA to film Japanese girls getting fucked by American guys, especially black guys. Apparently, the interracial market is big in Japan. This time, though, they decided they wanted to use Japanese actors with an American girl.

I told her I’d watched some very intense Japanese porn, and was apprehensive. She told me not to worry, that she had been nervous before her first shoot, too.

Ah!. So was an actress as well. That made me feel better. She could help me through the rough spots. She’d been through this.

She explained to me that Japanese pornography laws were very different from those in America. In Japan, you couldn’t show genitals. I know it sounds weird, but all the cocks and pussies in the videos I watched had been pixelated. (The assholes, though, made it through unscathed.) This is why the videos would never be released in America — there’s no market for porn that doesn’t show dicks and pussies.

This forced the porn producers to delve into kink and get creative. Some of the kinks were common to American porn — things like BDSM, cosplay (dressing up like teen-age girls or nurses), nakadashi (cream pies) and irrumatio (face fucking).

But some of the kinks very pretty much unique to Japan — pissing, gero (vomiting), futanari (a girl pretends to be a hermaphrodite by having a prosthetic cock glued to her pubic bone), bukkake (massive facials), gokkun (cum drinking), even tentacle porn (with huge fake squids) and scat and bestiality.

Marin explained that Japanese culture was not as judgmental as American culture, especially in matters of sex. She said the Japanese were more into ideas of time and place. In public, everyone was expected to act properly and respect etiquette. But in private, people were expected to indulge their darker sides. And everyone was expected to have one.

Her parents knew she did porn, she said, and they were OK with it. It wouldn’t have been their first choice, but if their little girl got off by being vomited on, so be it.

I was still having problems thinking of vomiting as being erotic, but I liked the attitude.

Two days later, Peter and I found ourselves on the edge of Little Tokyo outside an old warehouse. We went inside and took the freight elevator to the top floor. There was only one door, so we opened it.

I guess I was expecting offices or something, but it was one huge space which took up the entire floor. Ahead of us was a large reception area with a bunch of couches. Behind that was a row of desks with computers and huge monitors. Against one wall were racks of clothes, and next to it, a make-up station and a small kitchen. There was a row of metal shelving stacked with dildos, BMSM gear, cases of lube and a shit ton of hemp rope. They even had lockers, and a mini-shower room. No doors, no curtains, nothing — just shower up in front of the whole office!

Across the room were three simple sets, complete with lighting gear.

It was an entire porn company under one roof.

And it was mostly staffed by women. Two-thirds, by my informal count. Nice!

We went up to the receptionist and asked for Marin. A few seconds later, a very cute Japanese girl bounded up to me and gave me a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she said, with a big smile on her face. “I think, when all is done, you will have an amazing time today.”

Peter took a seat in the reception area while Marin escorted me back to her desk. I filled out the company’s paperwork, and she made copies of my ID. Then she asked me if I wanted to take a shower. I’d taken one in the morning, but I remembered that Japanese culture is can be fastidious about cleanliness. Which was weird, because I was going to end up being pissed on and puking, but what the hell, I like hot water.

She walked me over to where the lockers were and handed me a robe, a towel and a pair of rubber sandals. Then she started to get undressed.

“I will be assisting in your scenes today,” she said. “We won’t be having sex, but we will be interacting.”


She then ran through the specifics of the scenes we’d be shooting that day. I took off my clothes, too, listening to the vile things she expected me to do.

That I would be doing. On film, in front of an office full of people.

We were interrupted by three Japanese men, two younger, one older. The younger guys were the cameramen, and the older guy was the rope master. They conversed with Marin in Japanese, who asked me to raise my hands. They poked and prodded all over my body, but especially my thighs, ass and breasts.

I didn’t feel like a star. I felt like a piece of meat.

The men nodded vigorously in agreement and walked away.

“We were talking about what kind of suspensions to use on you,” said Marin. “The rope master said you have a good body for tying up. He’s excited to work with you.”

We walked over to the shower room and turned on the water. Marin grabbed a luffa, soaping it up.

“We wash each other,” she said. “It shows respect.”

She washed every inch of, using just her hands on my pussy and asshole. I was getting turned on, and I saw that some of the employees were watching us. I breathed deeply.

“I suspect you are being turned on,” Marin said, “and I would like to fuck you, too. But I think you should save your sexual energy for the movie.”

I sighed and nodded.

Now it was my turn to wash her. I took my time, letting the luffa slide over her body. And when it came to wash her pussy and asshole, I made sure to let my fingers linger inside of her. Then I bent down, gently spread her butt cheeks, and tongued her little asshole.

She may have been a professional, but it was hard for her to resist my tongue darting in and out of her anus. She moaned and turned to face the room. She lifted one leg up, like a ballerina, and gave me access to her pussy. I licked up her taint, over her labia and found her clit.

I shot a glance sideways and saw that we had gathered a crowd. Good. I liked putting on a show.

And then she put her leg down and stepped back.

“You are tempting, Kathi,” she said, “but we must keep to our schedule. We will fuck soon, I hope, but not today. Now, we must go to hair and make-up.

And like that it was over. All I’d done is work myself up and get frustrated. But I put on my robe and followed Kathi to the make-up station.

As we walked over, I noticed that the reception area was filling up with Japanese men. Some young, some middle-aged, some skinny, some chubby. On the whole, very average looking.

“Those are the bukkake men,” Marin said, “the men who will cum on you.”

We sat down in the chairs and let the make-up girls go to work on us.

“How many of them are there?”

“Thirty.”

“Thirty?” I yelped.

“Yes, thirty,” she said, nonplussed.

“You’ve done bukkake, right?” I asked.

“Yes, several times.”

“What’s the biggest number of loads you’ve taken?” I asked.

“In a scene or in a day?”

Huh. This was going to be interesting.

“Both.”

“In a scene, 75. In a day, 200.”

Whoa. This nice, polite, sweet little Japanese girl with the adorable smile was filthy. Two hundred loads in a day? That was like a whole meal of cum!

“Does your family know about that movie?”

“Oh, yes. It was very popular in Japan,” Marin said.

“Have they seen it?”

“I know by brothers have, because they told me they liked it. I think my father’s seen it, too.”

“Do you think they masturbated to, you know, guys cumming on your face?”

“They have not told me so in so many words,” she said, “but I would expect that if they were watching a pornographic movie, they would be masturbating.”

“So the men in your family have jerked off to you,” I said.

“Yes, Kathi. I’m nearly certain of it.”

“How does that make you feel?”

She paused.

“Good, I guess. I gave them pleasure,” said Marin.

This girl was on a whole new level of kink.

She took my hand.

“Imagine you had a magic pill that would create the same sensation as an orgasm. And you could give it out to tens of thousands of people, and make them happy. Would you do that?”

“Sure,” I said. “Orgasms are great.”

“Would you deny your father that magic pill?”

Hmmm.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I’d give it to him.”

“Well, that’s what we do here,” said Marin. “We make magic that gives lots of people orgasms and makes them happy.”

She laughed.

“Americans think of porn as the business of filth. We think of it as the business of happiness.”

She almost had me convinced. And then I thought about the thirty loads of cum I was going to eat.

Another group of Japanese men arrived, five of them. They said hello to the receptionist and then headed off to the lockers.

“And those are your co-stars,” said Marin. “Those are the guys who will fuck you.”

I turned around in my chair to get a better look. They were my age, maybe younger. And very good looking, with athletic bodies. Their cocks didn’t look huge — don’t ask me, I have no idea if the stereotype was true — but even Peter was a grower, not a shower. And he would get to a very nice seven inches.

“They’re real Japanese, and most of them have worked in the industry for years,” said Marin. “They are professionals, very good at what they do. The bukkake men are locals, either first or second generation Japanese-Americans. They are amateurs, but all they really need to do is masturbate.”

The make-up girl then attended to my hair. She pulled it back and put it into two pig tails. I looked in the mirror — I looked like a school girl.

Marin looked at me.

“Perfect,” she said. “You look perfect. Are you ready?”

I took a deep breath.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said.

We walked over to the first set, which was done up like the interior of an old Japanese country house. As we did, I noticed that the employees stopped working and were walking, with the bukkake men, behind us.

“We shut down the office during shooting,” explained Marin. “We can’t have noise on the set, plus the staff likes to watch us work. Is that a problem for you?”

When I agreed to do this shoot, I thought it would be like a closed set. A couple of cameramen, the light and sounds guys, but that’s about it. I thought my humiliation was be in private. But no — my humiliation would be public.


The thought turned my stomach. I actually felt ashamed about what I was going to do. But I felt a familiar heat in my loins. The thought of begin humiliated in public was turning me on.

“No, Marin, it’s not a problem,” I said. “In fact, I’m happy that they’re going to watch what’s going to happen to me.”

She gave me a hug and a kiss. I tried to slip my tongue into her mouth, but she was too quick.

“Good,” said Marin. “You’re going to be great.”

The first scene called for me to be suspended. I removed my robe and sat in a chair, arms behind my back, as the rope master tied me up. There four bands of rope above my breasts, and three below. There was another band of rope on my thighs, and another at my ankles. A bamboo spreader bar insured that my legs would remain open.

Marin talked to me as the rope master did his work. She explained that the movie would have virtually no dialogue, as many Japanese did not speak English (understandably). There would be some at the beginning and the end of the scenes, but that would be it. The dialogue would be sub-titled into Japanese.

Then the rope master ran more rope up to large bamboo rod above me. He gently raised me off the ground. My head was still at head level, but now my feet and hips were several feet off the ground. The rope dug into my skin.

“Ready?” asked Marin.

I took a deep breath and nodded ‘yes.’

“Camera, roll,” said Marin.

She took off her robe and walked onto the set. She came over to me and gently stroked my cheek. I kissed her hand.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“My name is Kathi Choi,” I responded.

“And what is the name of this movie?”

“The name of this movie is American Whore,” I said.

“And who are you?”

I looked into the camera.

“I’m the American whore.”

“What will happen to you today?” Marin asked.

“I will be spat on. I will choke on cock and throw up. I will be pissed on, and I will drink piss. I will be fucked. Men will cum on my face, and I will swallow their cum.”

Marin grabbed my chin with her hand. I felt my body begin to swing in the suspension.

“You are a pretty girl, a nice girl. Why would you do these things?” she asked.

I looked up into her eyes.

“I am a whore,” I said. “An American whore.”

Then she slapped my face. I started to swing, but she slapped me with her other hand. I tried to move my head out of the way, but all I managed to do was squirm. She kept hitting me, and it fucking hurt. Then it stopped. My eyes were watering, and my cheeks burned. I felt a couple of tears roll down my face.

Marin bent down and licked my tears. Now she looked into the camera.

“This will not be the last time you see this American whore cry today,” she said.

And one last slap.

“Ready yourself, whore!” Marin yelled.

I raised my head, opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Marin put a large glass bowl on the floor beneath my head. One of the Japanese porn actors, clad only in black briefs, stood behind me with a Hitachi.

The other porn actors walked on stage and positioned themselves on either side of me. I saw the camera move in. And then the spit hit my face.

At first, they just sprayed my face. But then they honed in, lobbing their spit right into my mouth. Sometimes they’d miss and hit my cheeks or my nose, but most of the spit went into my open mouth.

I had been told not to swallow, so I waited until my mouth was half-full, and then I pushed the spit out out with my tongue. It slid down my chin and fall into the bowl below.

At least I had the Hitachi. The Japanese porn actor had placed it on my clit, and I felt its lovely vibrations working through my groin. I was getting spat on, but I was getting turned on, too.

The first set of bukkake men were next, another group of four. They commenced spitting. Some hit my face, some aimed for my mouth and some spat in my hair. I just concentrated on the Hitachi, trying to grind my clit into it.

When they ran dry, the next group of four took their place, and the next. Seven times I went through the process. My face was glazed with spit, and stringers were hanging off my chin and tongue. I felt like I was constantly pushing spit out of my mouth, only to have it fill up again.

I was starting to cum now, so I concentrated on that. I contorted my hips, and my head dropped. Instantly, another one of the porn actors grabbed my pig tails and yanked my head up. One big load of spit flew in my mouth and triggered my gag reflex.

I gagged and came at the same time. Intense.

Now the last two bukkake men came up, with two of the staff. They spat on me, too, as the Hitachi ground away on my clit.

The rest of the staff followed — the rope master, the make-up girls, even the receptionist! Everyone in the entire office spat on me and watched me cum while they were doing it.

At last, it was over. Marin took the stage again and walked over to me. I pushed another load out of my mouth and into the bowl. I stuck out my tongue and waited for her spit. The Hitachi switched to high, and I started to buck my hips. I felt the porn actor pull on my pig tails, raising it as high as it would go.

I looked up at the beautiful Marin, and moaned. She opened her lips slightly, and slowly pushed out a huge load of spit. I felt it hit my tongue and slide off. The Hitachi pushed me over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,” I yelled. “I’m fucking cumming.”

I thrashed against my restraints, and kept cumming. I let out a low, guttural moan.

And then it stopped —the Hitachi turned off.

I thrashed a few more times, and the orgasm began to recede. I could begin to think again. But I was breathing heavily, like I’d just gone running.

Marin picked up the bowl and raised to my head. It was about a quarter full, maybe twelve ounces of saliva sloshing around.

I scanned the room. Everyone had crowded the stage. This was what they wanted to see.

I closed my eyes.

“Open your eyes, Kathi,” Marin said, “and look into the camera.”

I did as I was told, and then opened my mouth. Marin brought the bowl to my lips, and I slowly drank the saliva. I maintained eye contact with the camera through each swallow.

The bowl was now empty. I’d swallowed the spit of every person in that room, all complete strangers. Men and woman — it made no difference. Even the darling little receptionist had spat on me. And I’d swallowed her spit, too.

“Who are you?” asked Marin.



”My name is Kathi Choi,” I said, “and I’m a spit whore.”

Then Marin slapped me so hard I began to spin in my suspension.

She walked away as the camera continued to roll. Ten seconds later, she yelled “Cut!”

And the scene was over. The staff returned to work, and the bukkake men went back to the reception area. The rope master lowered me to the ground and untied me. I sat down on the ground. My cheek hurt and my face was still slimed with saliva.

Marin handed me a towel.

“How was it?” she asked.

“Rough,” I said. “It was a lot more spit than I’d anticipated. But it was OK. I came.”

“You came a couple of times,” she said. “And that’s good. It’s show you know how to process humiliation. Make it work for you.”

“Well, that and the Hitachi,” I said.

“No, you were very good,” she said. “Your facial expressions were terrific. For porn like this, the audience wants to see misery in the girl’s eyes. And you showed that. Yes, they want to see the girl cum, but they want to see her pay a price. And you showed that. You were great.”

“Well, thank you, I think,” I said.

Marin offered me a hand up and walked me over to the showers. I cleaned myself up and tried not to think too much about what I’d just done (or what I was about to do.)

It was back to the make-up station. I noticed that some of the bukkake men had gone to the locker room and had stripped down to their briefs. Then they began slowly playing with themselves, underneath their underwear.

Marin sat down besides me.

“How many?”

“Just five,” she said. “It’ll be easy. Don’t even think about it.”

That was easy for her to say. But the most loads I’d ever swallowed had been three. In my first porn shoot, there had been nine guys, but also two other girls. So three loads, basically.

I could do five.

“Of all the scenes today, I think you’ll like this one the best,” said Marin. “I always did.”

She handed me a bottle of water.

“Drink this,” she said. “Don’t want you getting dehydrated.”

My hair was back in pig tails, and we were ready.

The next scene was shot on a very simple stage. It basically looked like a basement, except the walls and floor had been painted black. That made the white porcelain toilet at center-stage, elevated on a black platform, really pop. Below the water tank were several aluminum roasting pans. They’d collect whatever liquid fell to the ground.

“What did you say this kind of scenes were called?” I asked.

“Human toilet,” she said. “They’re very popular.”

“Oh, great.”

I removed my robe and sat down on the toilet. The rope master came over and bound my calves to my thighs. Then he secured those ties to the base of the toilet, so that my legs were spread wide. Then he took my arms and placed them behind by head, down by the water tank. He tied my wrists together and then tied them to the tank.

This was actually one of my favorite bondage positions. There was just something about having my hands above my head (or behind it) and trying to pull down. It was almost like using an exercise machine at the gym.

Then one of the staff came over and covered my clit and labia with mayonnaise. I know that sounds weird — what in this story doesn’t? — but it was just to get the cover shot for the movie. They couldn’t show my little pink pussy spread wide.

One of the cameramen came over with a DSLR. The bukkake men filled in front of me, as did the staff. The office was shutting down again, to watch me do horrible things.

He took several shots from the front and each side, even a few from above my head. Then he said something in Japanese to Marin.

“Kathi, don’t smile at the camera,” she said. “Remember what I said about paying the price, about looking miserable?”

I did.

“This time, I want you to think about what you’re about to,” she said. “And I want you to look around and see that all of us will be watching you. And then think about the thousands of people who will jerk off watching you degrade yourself. And that, despite all this, you will cum — several times — in front of us.”

Oh, shit. That did it. My eyes began to water. I was going to cry.

“Don’t fight it, Kathi,” said Marin, “let it go.”

I whimpered, and felt two tears roll down my cheeks. And then I began to cry in earnest. Like a fucking little school girl. I was balling my eyes out.

The cameraman snapped away. I looked straight into the camera to let it see my misery. The cameraman gave Marin a big thumbs up.

This is what they wanted.

Marin took off her robe and walked over to me.

“Cameras, roll,” she said.

She wiped my tears away gently, which I thought was nice. But then she forced her hand into my mouth, so I would drink my own tears. And then she made me gag.

In between scenes, Marin was incredibly sweet. But once the cameras started rolling, she turned into a evil fucking bitch. 
And I mean that in the best possible sense. She was good.

“Who are you?” she asked.

I looked into the camera.

“My name is Kathi Choi,” I sniffled. “And I am an American whore.”

I started crying again. 
 “I am. I’m a whore, I’m a whore.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the five bukkake men stroking themselves harder.

My misery was turning them on. Just like Marin said.

I looked up at Marin.

“Marin Izumi,” I said slowly, “I am a whore.”

She stroked my cheek.

“Yes, you are,” she said.

And then she slapped me. Hard. Again.

That one didn’t make me cry. If anything, it snapped me back to my senses.

Immediately, the five porn actors appeared, all clad in black briefs, each carrying a bunch of pink bullet vibrators. They dangled them on my breasts and pussy — one guy even pressed one against my asshole. Another one dragged his up my neck — remarkably erotic, I noticed — and help them up to my lips. I opened my mouth and he lowered them in. I felt the vibrations on my tongue and against my teeth. He then pulled them out and lowered them back in.

I was teabagging a bunch of vibrators.

Individually, these vibrating eggs don’t pack much of a punch. But these guys had 25 or 30 of them, and together they were packing a wallop. I felt my hips begin to buck and grind, but they were restrained by the bondage. Instinctively, I pulled down on my arms, but the ropes held my wrists in place.

I couldn’t move. I could only fight the rope, and feel it dig deeper into my skin.

It felt good.

I felt an orgasm beginning to build, and I looked down to watch the eggs dancing on clit and against my pussy lips. I came, snapping my hips against my restraints.

The five porn actors walked off, and three returned, one of them carrying a large bowl of a clear viscous liquid. This, Marin had told me, was nuru gel, a kind of Japanese massage lotion, made out of seaweed. It was very, very thick and very, very slippery.

They slathered it on me. On my legs, on my stomach, on my breasts, on my arms. And definitely on my pussy and asshole.

The guy in front of me put two fingers in my pussy. The guys to my sides played with my tits.

This was nothing but pleasure. I was getting a hardcore erotic massage from three hot guys.

I put my head back and let another orgasm rip through me.

The three actors disappeared, replaced by one carrying an enormous double-headed dildo. It was as thick as a beer can, and was at least three feet long. The actor loaded it up with it up with nuru gel and approached my mouth. I opened it as wide as it would go, and the head barely fit in. I felt the other head enter my pussy.

The nuru gel helped, but it was still a huge cock. I felt it filling my pussy, stretching it out. He then began pumping my pussy.

I found the camera and made eye contact. I couldn’t help it — it felt so good — but I bit down on the dildo in my mouth. I raised my lips, so the camera could see me bite the dick.

I was grunting now. I felt in control, for the first time all day. I’d had two strong orgasms, and my good friend between my legs was taking me to a third, with a cock the size of a pipe.

I flared my eyes at the camera. I’d given you misery — now I was giving you lust. Watch me cum, you fucks. Watch me orgasm like hell.

My head fell back. The dildo fell out of my mouth. My hips bucked, and my elbows thrashed at the air. (They were about the only the part of my body I could still move.) I came again.

But the man between my legs did not let up. If anything, he sped up. I felt another orgasm building even before the one I’d had died down. This one felt like it was coming from deep inside.

I looked at the actor. I was grunting again, matching him stroke for stroke. He looked up at me, and I lost it. I felt like I exploded.

And he kept going. I was losing it now. I felt drool coming out of my mouth and dripping down my chin. I didm’t want this to stop. I put my head back. I felt my eyes begin to water. I let the orgasm take me down.

And the man between my legs disappeared. He was replaced by another actor, this one carrying a Sawzall. But instead of a blade, it sported a nice, thick dildo.

I was about to be machine fucked.

He hit the trigger a couple of times, and it came to life. He brought it up to my lips. I licked it. I opened my mouth, and he slowly revved the motor. I let my mouth get fucked by the machine.

He pulled out of my mouth and stuck the dildo into the bowl of nuru gel. Then he gently inserted it into my pussy — it was smaller than the double-headed dildo, and I took it easily. And then he pulled the trigger.

No human cock can move this fast. No human hand can move this fast. The stroke is short — less than two inches — but even at a relatively low speed, it can achieve 1000 strokes a minute.

There is nothing a girl can do in this situation.

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the pleasure. It felt like my pussy was turning to jelly. I came, and then I came again. My head fell to the side. And then the man between my legs increased the speed. He pulled out of me — where did that cock go? He loaded up with more nuru gel and entered me again. He cranked it up again.

I looked out into the crowd. The five bukkake men were stroking themselves furiously. Some of the staff were covertly touching themselves. I looked at Peter.

Fuck — I’d forgotten he was here. I was so adrift on my own pleasure.

I was drooling again. I couldn’t talk. I could only be fucked. Another orgasm. And another. And then the man between my legs turned the machine on full blast.

My head went back. I strained against my restraints. I was cumming and cumming, and I felt like I was going to black out.

It was time for the bukkake men. The first two stepped up onto the platform beside me. They jerked their cocks, and I felt their cum rain down on my face. I opened my mouth, but they were more interested in painting my face. Some of the cum went into my eyes and it burned.

Then the next two men, then the fifth and last. Five loads in the space of thirty seconds. And my face was glazed with sperm. I came again.

The Sawzall stopped, and pulled out of me. I felt empty. I struggled against the endorphins overloading my brain.

Marin walked up to me.

“American whore!” yelled Marin. “You are filthy. You are covered with semen. What do you need?”

I slowly raised my head and looked into the camera.

Meekly, I said “I need a shower.”

“What kind of shower?” she demanded.

“A shower of piss,” I said.

“A piss shower can clean you?”

I looked up at her. I nodded ‘yes.’


“Speak, whore!” Marin said.

“Yes, Marin Izumi,” I said haltingly. “A piss shower will … clean … my … pretty … face.”

With that, she put one foot on my hip, spread her labia and pissed on my face. She was joined by the five bukkake men, and they pissed on me, too. I had six people pissing on my pretty face.

I’d been instructed to open my mouth and drink in as much as I could. But it was too much. I gagged and coughed. Urine ran all over my face, and down my body. I was drenched. Even my hair was soaked.

The piss stopped, and the bukkake men walked off stage. An actor returned, carrying a large plastic bowl. He poured the contents of the aluminum roasting pans into it — at least a quart, mostly piss, but some cum. Then another actor returned with a huge glass syringe and handed it to Marin. She placed it in the bowl and slowly pulled the plunger back. The tube filled with urine.

“American whore!,” said Marin, “are you thirsty?”

I looked into the camera.

“Marin Isumi, I am thirsty for urine. Please give me urine to drink.”

She moved the syringe to my mouth and I opened up. Slowly, she pushed the plunger down and pissed filled my mouth. I gulped down as much as I could, but some fell out out of my mouth and down onto my body. She emptied the syringe.

As she refilled, I felt the taste of urine in my mouth. It was hot and acrid. And there was more coming.

She put the syringe back in my mouth and I started to swallow. I was better this time, spilling almost none of it. But I was also feeling full, as a quart of liquid filled my belly.

There were a few ounces left in the bowl, so she lifted it up and brought it to my lips. She poured it too fast on purpose, so she could watch the urine fall off my face.

She got off the platform and positioned herself between my legs. She said nothing — she just held the bowl I knew what was next.

I started to piss in the bowl. In front of everyone, I started to piss.

When I was done, she put the bowl down and got the syringe. She filled it up and put it to my lips. I was now about to drink my own piss.

As the piss hit my tongue, I noticed how differently piss can taste. I’d eaten little that day, and my piss was mostly clear. It didn’t tast3 too acrid. It was easy going down.

And then I thought — I’m comparing the taste of piss? What had happened to me? Humiliation washed over me.

Marin drained the syringe, but there were a couple of ounces left in the bowl. She raised the bowl to her lips and poured it in. Then she put the bowl down and leaned over me. She stroked my hair, my piss-soaked hair.

I opened my mouth. She let the piss pour in, and then she kissed me.

This was my first realm kiss with Marin Izumi, and I was bound to a toilet and covered in piss. I swallowed the piss but continued to kiss her. And she was kissing me back.

After a few tender kisses on the lips, she stood up.

“Who are you?” she yelled.

I found the camera.

“My name is Kathi Choi, and I am a cum whore and a piss whore.”

Marin slapped my face and walked off stage. The scene had ended.

The rope master undid the ties. It was harder this time, because the rope was wet with piss. When he released my thighs, I saw deep, red indentations. I had really been pulling on my restraints.

Marin came back and offered me a towel. I wiped myself down and, oddly, wrapped the towel around my head. My hair was wet, but it was wet with urine — I needed to wash it.

I wasn’t thinking clearly.

The bukkake men were showering, so Marin and I took a seat on a bench in the locker area.

“What did you think?” Marin asked.

“I came a lot,” I said.

“Do you know how many times?”


”Seven. Eight, maybe”

“Eleven times, that I counted,” she said.

Wow. That’s why I felt so drained.

“And the cum and the piss?” asked Marin.

“It was fine. I was so far gone that it didn’t matter.”

“But did you like it? Did you enjoy drinking my piss?” she asked.

“Actually, I did. It was dirty and it was kinky, but I liked that you were pissing on me.”

“And the others?”

“Five strange men pissing on me? Well, you asked me to do it and I did it.”

“To pay the price for cumming.”

“Yes,” I said. “To pay the price.”

“Excellent,” said Marin. “You’re getting it. And your tears at the the beginning of the scene were beautiful. Thank you for that.”

“They were real.”

“That’s what made them so good.”

Some of the bukkake men were toweling off. They came up to shake my hand.

“Thank you for letting me cum on you,” said one. “And for letting me piss on you.”

He bowed.

Another one grabbed my hand.

“Yes, thank you very much,” he said. “You are very beautiful, and are a good whore.”

I was stunned.

“Kathi,” said Marin. “Remember your manners!”

What to say?

“You’re welcome,” I said. “It was my pleasure to receive your cum and to drink your piss.”

“Good girl,” she said.

“And I hope you buy the video and masturbate to me,” I continued.

“Excellent!” shouted Marin.

“And I hope that one day I will be able to taste your urine and semen again.”

“Fantastic,” said Marin, hugging me. “You’ve got the makings of a real Japanese porn star!”

I bowed to the bukkake men, and they bowed back. They got dressed while Marin and I hit the showers.

We washed each other again. The hot water felt good on my skin. At one point, I grabbed her and kissed her. She didn’t fight this time.

“Thank you so much kissing me before,” I said. “And thank you for tasting my piss.”

“I liked that,” she said. “And I think it helped make the scene. Your piss takes good. I would drink it again.”

Fucking hell.

We finished up in the shower and got our robes. We were on lunch break, and the bukkake men had left to scout out food on their own. The office had ordered in udon noodles and salad, and I joined Peter on one of the stages to eat my food.

“You holding up?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, slurping up noodles. “It’s weird, but I’m OK. A fair amount of it I like.”

“So the tears?”

“The tears were real,” I said. “I mean, I don’t think I’m a piss whore, but maybe I am.”

“You’ve pissed on me,” he said. “Several times.”

“But that’s because you like it.”

“The only reason I like drinking your piss is that you like pissing on me.”


Bam!

“Really?”

He nodded ‘yes.’

“I mean, it’s not terrible,” he continued, “but I do it for you. To make you happy.”

Bam!

“I’ve never let you piss on me,” I said.

“I know. I’ve never pressed it.”


“But you do want to piss on me,” I said.

“Absolutely,” he said.

He leaned in and kissed me.

“Someday,” he said. “Somewhere.”

I kissed him back.

“Here. Now.”

I grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the showers. I dropped my robe to the ground. I pulled off his shirt, unbuckled his belt and dropped his shorts.

“Marin!” I yelled. “Get a camera. Quickly!”

Peter tried to fend me off weakly, but a nude girl can be persistent. Soon I had stripped him naked. I dropped to my knees and started sucking his cock.

I realized that, despite all the perverted things I had done that day, this was the first real sex I’d engaged in.

Marin rushed in with a camera.

“Rolling,” she said.

I took Peter’s cock out of my mouth.

“My name is Kathi Choi, and I am an American whore,” I said. “This is my boyfriend, Peter Lynch. Before today, I had never let him piss on me. But I had pissed on him. This is wrong. If you give piss, you must take piss. Especially if you are a piss whore. I am a piss whore. And you will watch the first time I drink my boyfriend’s piss.”

I put my arms behind my back and opened my mouth. I noticed we were gathering a crowd. Peter looked a little shocked, so I reassured him.

“Peter, please let me drink your piss.”

I opened my mouth again and awaited his golden stream.

He placed the head of his cock just outside my mouth and let a slow stream of urine out. When my mouth was half-full, he stopped. I swallowed, and opened my mouth again. He let go with another load, and stopped. I swallowed again.

I hadn’t spilled a drop.

He did this to me six more times. I’d swallowed all of his urine, but I felt none of it on my face.

“That’s it,” he said. “I’m out.”

I dove back on his cock. I sucked on him hard, taking him into my throat and licking his balls. He put his hands on my my head and started skull-fucking me. He was very fucking turned on, and came quickly.

He helped me to my feet. I faced the camera, and let his cum drip out of my mouth and into my hand. (This is practically required in Japanese porn, Marin had told me.) Then I slurped it up again.

I turned towards Peter and drew him in to kiss me. Peter was a cum eater, but he’d never done it on camera. But my boy was brave and eagerly kissed me. I pushed him down, so that the last of his cum would drip out of my mouth into his.

Marin brought the camera in for a close-up.

“What do you do know, Peter?” asked Marin. “What do you do with the cum in your mouth?”

Peter knew. He swallowed his own cum, and opened his mouth.

“All gone, Peter!” said Marin. “Good boy!”

She turned the camera off.

“So where did that come from?” asked Marin.

“Not sure,” I said, turning on two showers. “I think I’m getting into this.”

Marin walked over to Peter and kissed him.

“Nice,” she said, “I can still taste a little of your cum. Shower up and then come to my desk; we’ll need to do paperwork. You just made your first Japanese porn!”

Marin turned to me.

“I’m not going to put this in the main movie, but I think will work well in the Behind the Scenes segment. Thank you, Kathi. I appreciate this.”

“Kiss me,” I said.

She put down the camera and embraced me. I pulled her robe off so we were both naked. And I kissed her.

“Kiss me, piss whore,” she said.

“Kiss me back, piss whore!” I said.

We made out in the shower. Peter got himself clean.

“Enough,” said Marin. “Eat your lunch. We need to keep on schedule.”

We broke off our embrace and I showered up. Then I put my robe back on and joined Peter to finish our lunch.

“Arigato,”he said.

“Dō itashimashite, sensei,” I responded. That meant ‘you’re welcome, teacher.”

I was learning a little Japanese, even if most of it was sex terms.

We’d finished our noodles when Marin showed up with three plastic containers of a butterscotch custard.

“I think one will do me, Marin, thank you.”

“It’s not dessert, Kathi,” she said. “It won’t be staying down long.”

Oh, right.

I ate the custard and went to make-up. A little rouge, a little lipstick, pig tails. Ready for scene three.

I was back on the black stage with the rope master. He bound my thighs and calves together again, and placed me on the floor. My back went against a triangular wooden post which stopped at my shoulder blades, one edge of which pushed against my spine. (The rope master secured me with the same tie as the first scene — four strands of rope above my breasts, and three below.) A Hitachi was secured to the floor, and positioned against my clit.

Finally, my arms were bent backwards into a strappado position and tied to a metal post behind me. Basically, the only body part that could move was my head.

Marin came back on stage, sporting a huge strap-on. Not as big as the double-headed dildo used on me in the pissing scene, but huge nevertheless. She wore it well.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Let’s do this,” I said.

The office shut down again. The bukkake men had returned and they crowded around the stage. The Hitachi was turned on. I moaned.

“Camera roll,” Marin yelled. “Who are you?”

“My name is Kathi Choi, and I am an American whore.”

She walked over to me and began slapping my face with her cock. I opened my mouth and tried to catch it, but she was too fast.

“Are you ready to have cocks in your mouth?” she asked. “Are you ready for irrumatio?”

“Please!” I said, looking into the camera.

Then came the slap. I’d forgotten about that. My eyes filled with water. I let the tears drip down my face.

I looked at the camera, and opened my mouth.

One of the porn actors stepped on stage, naked and hard. He put his cock in my mouth, and pushed it to top of my throat. Then he grabbed my pig tails and began fucking my face. Hard.

I held out for maybe thirty seconds. I gagged, and gagged again, and then I threw up. On the cock in my mouth. He held his cock is my mouth for a several seconds, so I could taste my vomit. I didn’t like it — I didn’t like it all.

But I had cum. I’d been close to cumming before, but the sheer force of the convulsion from puking pushed me over the edge.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth, and vomit poured out, dripping on my breasts, my belly, the floor.

I caught a breath. I looked down at my vomit. I recognized noodles, and some pork. But it was mostly a dull golden color, the color of butterscotch.

Marin knew what she was doing.

He put his cock back in my mouth. I opened my throat. He skull fucked me. More vomit came up. He didn’t stop. I threw up again, my body convulsing against the restraints and against the post. He kept going. I concentrated on breathing through my nose, but snot had clogged one nostril. I felt myself fading, blacking out.

Then I felt him stop. He cock was in my throat, and something was coming out. He’d cum, not in my mouth, but in my throat.

I came again.

I turned onwards the camera and opened my mouth, but there was nothing to show. The cum was already gone —it was in my stomach now.

The porn actor walked off stage. Marin yelled cut. An assistant ran on stage with a pint class full of custard.

“Drink this now, quickly,” she said. “You’re stomach is empty, and you’ll need this to vomit more.”

That kind of took the romance off things. But she was right. This was a gero scene, and a gero scene meant vomit. I chugged the custard.

A second actor walked on stage. Marin told the cameras to roll. I opened my mouth. He grabbed my pig tails and, in one step, thrust his cock down my throat. I gagged, but did not throw up. He fucked my face harder. I threw up, but he kept fucking my face. Cascades of vomit came out of my mouth, caking his legs and my body.

I was a fucking mess.

He withdrew his cock and let my breathe. Then he fucked my throat again, fast and hard. He pulled out and jerked his cock. I opened my mouth and he came on my tongue. I turned towards the camera to show the cum and vomit. Then I swallowed the mess and opened my mouth again.

All gone.

Marin yelled ‘cut’ again, and the assistant ran over with more custard. I drank it.

Marin told the cameras to roll and she stepped onstage. I opened my mouth and waited.

She placed the head of her cock in my mouth. It nearly filled it! She began to fuck my mouth slowly, coaxing thick saliva onto her cock. Then she pushed her cock down into my throat. Somehow, she got it in — all the way in. My nose was smashed against her belly. Tears ran down my face.

I looked up into her pretty eyes. She smiled at me.

It only took two long strokes to do it. I was throwing up on her cock. She didn’t stop. I threw up some more. I was having problem breathing, and tried to pull away. But she grabbed my pigtails and kept on going. I was trying to ask for a break, but I couldn’t talk with her cock in my mouth. More vomit came up. Somehow, I came again.

She stopped. Slowly, she pulled her huge dildo out of my trachea. I coughed and coughed. Stingers of spit and vomit hung off my face.

“Who are you?” demanded Marin.

I tried to talk, but I was coughing too hard. I tried to catch my breath. My jaw hurt, and my arms ached from being tied in strappado. Snot was coming out of my nose.

“My name is Kathi Choi,” I mumbled, “and I’m a vomit whore.”

And one more slap across my face.

The rope master untied my restraints. I gingerly got to me feet. I looked down at myself. I was covered in puke. Worse, I could still taste it in my mouth. An assistant handed me a glass of water.

Marin put an arm around me and walked me to the showers. She turned on the water, and I let it wash over me.

“Rough scene,” she said. “You did well.”

“Have you done gero?” I asked.

“Yes, many times,” she said. “It’s kind of a specialty of mine.”



“I don’t know how you do it.”

“It gets easier the more you do it,” she said. “The trick is to time the vomiting so that the convulsions hit when you’re cumming. It can be very intense.”

She bathed me again, and then I did her. We brushed our teeth and gargled with mouthwash. Finally, I felt clean again.

Off to hair and make-up.

The final scene was the bukkake. The rope master laid me on my back and went to work. I would be suspended about three feet above the ground, with my legs spread open. But I’d also be tied to the floor, so my body couldn’t move in any direction more than a couple of inches. The rope master said this was an excellent position for hard fucking.

Marin stood behind me and held my head up. To her side was a small table holding a large daiquiri class. She stroked my face, but I knew she’d change once the cameras began rolling. The bukkake men — all twenty-five of them — had stripped down and were lining up offstage. The three porn actors readied themselves — they’d be the only guys to fuck me.

“Ready?” asked Marin.

I nodded my head.


”Roll,” yelled Marin.

She took one finger and ran it softly over my lips. I kissed.

“Who are you?” she asked softly.

It sounded different this time. Like she was really asking me, not just doing dialogue.

I thought about what had happened to me. I had started off selling dildos at a feminist sex toy shop in the Lower East Side. Then I was a pro domme. Then I started fucking a client. I’d become an exhibitionist, exposing myself to hundreds and hundreds of people. I’d danced at a strip club, and let four customers fuck me in the ass. And earlier this week, I’d been a porn star for a day, doing a nine guy, double penetration gang bang.

And today I’d drunk spit and piss and thrown up all over myself. Now I was bound in rope and going to be glazed with the loads from twenty-eight guys.

I started to cry. I couldn’t stop. I was balling. Tears ran down my face.

And I saw the bukkake men stroke their dicks harder.

I was turning them on by crying.

“My name is Kathi Choi,” I murmured, “and I’m an American whore.”

Marin stroked my cheek, and slapped it. Hard.

That brought me back. I raised my head and looked at the porn actors.

“Fuck. Me.” I said.

And they did.

The bukkake men encircled me. Touching me, groping me. They sucked on my tits and forced their tongues into my mouth.

I looked up at Marin. She was smiling. She loved watching me be abused.

The cock left my pussy, and another porn actor stepped up.

The first bukkake man approached my face. I closed my mouth. Marin wanted all the cum to hit my face. The bukkake man jerked his cock, and his semen landed on me. When he was done, Marin leaned over and sucked all the cum off of me. Then she spat it out into the daiquiri glass.

Then the second and third. Hot spunk landed on my cheeks and forehead. Some landed on my lips, but I restrained myself from licking it up. That was Marin’s job. To collect the cum.

Then two more, then one, then three. I couldn’t keep count. I just watched the cocks jerk and twitch, and launch their loads onto me.

The porn actors switched out, and another cock entered me. It felt good. I could feel an orgasm coming on. Not yet, but I was getting close.

More men came on me. I felt Marin’s tongue on my face as she cleaned me up. And then even more men came on me.

I was so close to cumming now. Instinctively, I opened my mouth.

Some men came in my mouth. And Marin put her mouth on mine, sucking all the cum out.

I came, thrashing against the restraints.

The last of the bukkake men came on my face. Then it was the porn actors, dropping their loads on me. And Marin collected every last drop with her mouth, putting it in glass.

We were almost done.

One of the porn actors lifted my head up. Marin placed the glass against my lips. It was nearly full, ten ounces, maybe more. I looked in the camera and slowly drank the cum. Marin helped me by tilting the glass. And then the cum was gone. I opened my mouth and showed the camera.

Marin took the glass and licked it, gathering up the last few strands of semen. Then she placed her head above mine, and let the cum drip out of her mouth into mine.

I swallowed again.

“Who are you?” yelled Marin.

“I’m Kathi Choi,” I said, “and I’m a bukkake whore and a gokkun whore.”

I licked my lips and smiled into the camera.

Marin slapped my face.

And we were done.

The rope master untied me and helped me to my feet. I dropped to my knees. An assistant approached with a large bouquet of flowers. A cameraman took photos of me with the bukkake men, me with the actors and me and Marin.

“You were great today,” said Marin. “You really put on a show!”

“Thanks,” I said, “I think.”

The receptionist ran up to me.

“You were so good,” she said. “The gero scene was very intense!”

I thanked her, but felt weird. Who gets a compliment for vomiting?

“Really?” asked Marin. “I thought the spit scene was better.”

Peter came up now.

“I really liked the bukkake scene,” he said. “You looked so good just taking load after load.”

I smiled. I imagined Peter jerking off to that scene.

Marin took me by the hand to the showers and we cleaned up. I brushed my teeth again and hit the mouthwash. Then we went to the locker room and, for the first time in hours, we put on clothes.

It felt weird.

Marin gave me my check. Then she gave me a huge hug and a kiss on the lips.

“This was an excellent shoot,” she said. “You’re going to be a star in Japan!”

“A one-shot wonder,” I said. “I think I’m retiring after this.”

“Don’t say that!” she said. “You’re a strong woman. You can do this. You LIKE doing this.”

She was right. But I still didn’t think of myself as a porn star (even if it was just in Japan).

“You’re special,” she said, stroking my cheek. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Come in around noon, and we’ll show you a rough cut of the movie. Then we’ll grab some lunch together.”

She kissed me softly on the lips. I put my arms around her, and kissed her harder. I pushed my tongue between her lips, and she let me enter her mouth.

“I’d like that,” I said.

I had a crush on her.

My life was about to change dramatically.

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