American Whore

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.)