Sissy's Corporate Adventures
Chapter 13
In her school uniform, the blonde haired sex bomb created an altogether
different target for the perverts that rode the subway. It took them a bit of
time to decide whether she was fair game; the uniform screamed yes, but the fact
that she was obviously Western presented a caution flag to many of them. By the
time they decided it was open season on personages such as Sissy, she had
located a seat and Mr.Muriama had positioned himself to stop any type of frontal
assault on her person. He was a different man after his experience in the bura
seru shop, and it would last for a significant fraction of their stay in Japan.
As the train whisked them to their destination, Sissy had some time to
observe her surroundings since she was not busy fending off unwanted hands and
other appendages that she had struggled against on the last subway ride. The
passengers represented a cross section of the working and student population
along with an occasional housewife. The more vulnerable appearing females, those
standing of course, were under constant siege from the more aggressive males in
the car. Some struggled, but most knew it was futile to try to defend themselves
against the onslaught and just stood in place being groped and worse, trying
their best to be stoical about this common occurrence.
Sissy noticed that the majority of those seated had their noses buried
in what looked like some kind of comic books. The teenager discovered that there
appeared to be perhaps three different comics being read; one that occupied the
younger people, be they male or female, and the other two carefully read by the
adults, the great majority being men. She strained to get some idea of what they
were reading and was shocked to see from the illustrations that these comics
were oriented toward sex and violence against girls, teens and women. She
blushed despite the fact that her home life had an extremely strong emphasis on
the former and on more than one occasion she had been the victim, probably well
deserved, of violence. All she had to do was recall what she had gone through
very recently when the men folk taught her a lesson about her position in the
family hierarchy. Of course they didn't use words like hierarchy, but she got
the picture where she stood, or was it on her back with her legs spread, in the
family pecking order.
The rest of the trip proved to be relatively uneventful, and after a
short walk from the subway station, she and Mr. Muriama found themselves in the
lobby of this ornate, ultra modern hotel surrounded by uniformed employees and
hordes of guests either arriving or departing. Mr. Muriama stepped up to the
clerk at the information desk and spoke to him for a minute or two before
turning and beckoning for Sissy to follow him. They went out from the lobby and
Sissy discovered that she was in an underground nest of high end shops selling
everything imaginable.
After walking for perhaps five minutes her escort nodded and told her to
follow him inside a large bustling woman's clothing store. This was no K-Mart or
JC Penney, which was about as high end as Sissy had ever gotten. Soon they were
flanked by not one but two clerks, the male in a business suit, a carnation in
the lapel, and the other an attractive young lady in her mid twenties dressed
exquisitely and made up flawlessly. Sissy stepped back in awe at the sight of
this paragon of sartorial splendor, or some such thought since big words were
not her forte.
Once more Mr. Muriama did all the talking and the man left to greet
another potential client, leaving Sissy in the hands of this petite, Japanese
beauty. She led the blonde teenager into a dressing room and held out a hanger,
using sign language to tell the girl to put her jacket on it. When Sissy doffed
the sturdily made high school uniform jacket to reveal her tweeners hanging out
proudly for all to see, the clerk's eyes grew wide and a broad smile broke the
planes of her delicate face. Then almost as if she were an iron filing drawn to
a magnet, she approached Sissy and cupped those lucious melons and hefted them
as she licked her lips. The blonde airhead had no idea what to do now, having
had no lessons in Japanese culture. This elfin lovely tittered and then covered
her mouth shyly, almost as if she was embarrassed at this breach of decorum she
had just committed. For some reason Sissy felt very happy, almost glowing. This
was no slavering, dirty, old man or aloof member of the ruling class in this
strange land; it was just one lady admiring the charms of another and expressing
it in the universal language praticed by all members of the female race. For the
first time since she had set foot on this mysterious island Sissy felt
comfortable.
One thing led to another and before she knew it, Sissy was as naked as
the day she was born. She wasn't uncomfortable to be in this state, giving her
new found friend a chance to check out the entire package that Sissy was
packing. In fact it gave Sissy a nice warm, and very wet feeling that was not
lost on the lovely Japanese clerk. Unfortunately for the pair the timing of
their meeting was not fortuitous, and so Sissy left the store wearing some very
sexy new underwear, a demure blouse that muted her outstanding attributes, along
with a black velvet choker plus some pleasant memories of what might have been
in a different place and time.
Returning to the hotel lobby they were given directions to their room,
which had already received their luggage from the airport. Sissy was amazed at
how efficiently everything in their small room was arranged. It seemed that
every square foot of space performed more than one function. Furniture and
closets slid from recesses in the wall, as did most of the fixtures in the tiny
bathroom that the pair would be sharing. Screens provided a degree of privacy,
but Sissy wasn't too bothered by this situation, considering her upbringing and
the rather public nature of the most private things that happened in the
Slickslit family home involving the other members of the family.
The flight had taken her through a number of time zones, and she hadn't
got too much sleep on the plane. According to what Mr. Muriama told her, it was
nearly 3PM, which was fine with Sissy since she felt ready to jump into bed
immediately. Unfortunately her long sleep turned into a short nap as they
received a message from the head of the ME team stating that they were to meet
in the hotel lobby promptly at 8PM and be prepared for an evening on the town
compliments of the Hashifumoto organization. Sissy was specifically instructed
to wear the uniform that had been purchased for her. Sissy thought it strange
that her immediate supervisor, Ellen Luxore, was not the one issuing her
marching orders, so to speak. All this would be clarified before the long night
was concluded.
Sissy was dragging by the time she got down to the lobby. Her
interrupted sleep had left her listless and a bit out of sorts. Two Japanese men
in sun glasses and business suits were waiting for her and Mr. Muriama. The rest
of the Hashifumoto party had already left for the restaurant in the other limo,
and they would follow in the second car. Sissy was amazed to discover what the
inside of a limo could contain. Plush leather seats that seemed to envelop her,
carpeting, even lamps that bathed the interior in a subdued light were just some
of the features of this luxury home on wheels. There was a large, flat TV screen
located toward the front of the passenger section of the limo and two ice
buckets containing bottles of champagne. Sissy's jaw dropped when she realized
that there was some strange movie being shown on the large screen.
A gorgeous Japanese girl, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties
was hanging by her bound wrists, her naked body covered with welts. The lighting
was such that her pale skin, bleeding in some spots, glistened against the dark
background. Then slowly the camera panned to reveal a bearded man wearing
sunglasses, in some kind of a robe wielding a long whip. His arm drew back and
then forward, causing the whip to wrap around the breasts of the helpless woman,
kissing her skin with a new reddening mark. Sissy did not like what she saw, at
all! However, when she glanced over to the two Japanese, their eyes were glued
to the activity on the screen. Even Mr. Muriama seemed to be enjoying the
spectacle that was being played out before them. One of the men realized that
Sissy was not reacting at all well to what was happening on the screeen, and he
made a brief remark to his companion who laughed in a way that could only be
described as sinister. Sissy was at a loss to know what to do now.
The one way glass of the limo windows allowed her to look out, but what
she saw was not very interesting in the darkness. Osaka was not Tokyo, but it's
doubtful that Sissy would be able to tell the difference unless she was in the
Ginza area. This city of nearly three million was a manufacturing powerhouse, a
no nonsense concentration of heavy industry and the more pedestrian side of what
Japan truly represented to the rest of the world. Yet it was criss crossed with
canals and waterways that were an odd contrast to the giant factories that
abounded in the city. Sissy grew a bit restless and her eyes returned almost
against her will to the screen where the lovely Janeses girl was now drooling
from the gag that stiffled her. Then the whip curled around her hips leaving
another fiery trace behind. The men were transfixed by the scene that continued
to play itself out on the screen.
Abruptly the scene changed to a tiled bathroom occupied by an
elaborately bound young woman who was naked and squatting against the ornate tub
that rose from the center of the room. An older man wearing sunglasses and a
short white robe entered the picture and began slapping the girl across the face
as she did her best to avoid the blows. This brought a hiss of almost
satisfaction from one of the men watching this weird tableau. To Sissy this
was as unsettling as what had preceded it; there was no rhyme or reason to this
activity. What had these young women done to deserve the punishment they were
receiving from these men? Why were the men in robes and wearing sunglasses
indoors? Who was responsible for the elaborate network of knots that made the
ropes restraining both these lovely women almost seem to be some type of
clothing? Sissy had just run full tilt into the darker side of Japanese culture.
Sissy looked away but could not blot out the sounds that were made as
the man began to dunk the lovely woman's head into the tub, holding her under
the water despite her struggles to escape his iron grip. Once she became still
he'd pull her out to take a quick breath before being plunged back under for
another lengthy period. Sissy could not help herself and peeked out once or
twice to witness the uneven struggle that seemed to be driving the men watching
into some type of sexual excitement, that added to the blonde teen's discomfort.
The sound of splashing mixed with the gutteral voice of the man, dripping with
menace even though Sissy could not understand a single word that he was
speaking, finally forced her to once again witness what was occurring on the
screen. He now had both hands around the woman's throat and was throttling her
as her body quivered in much the same way as a fish that had just been unhooked
and thrown into the bottom of the boat. That particuar sight was one that the
young Sissy never could get out of her mind. It was something that haunted her
dreams for years, and here it had once more raised its ugly head in this weird
foreign land, but this time she was wide awake.
To Sissy's great relief the limo came to a stop and the screen darkened,
leaving the fate of the beautiful woman very much in doubt. Sissy was not at all
sure that what she had witnessed wasn't real. Considering all that she had been
exposed to since her arrival in this exotic land, there was good reason to
wonder if what she'd seen was reality or just another trick played on her
unsophisticated mind. The limo driver opened the door for the men and they
exited. It took some time for him to reach Sissy's door, but at long last she
was free to escape this macabre theater on wheels. The blonde airhead was too
naive to have understood the slight she and those of her kind had just received
from the driver. On the surface, at least, men ruled this land with an iron
hand. What went on behind the doors when they were home was something concealed
from all those except the immediate family.
The street upon which they were standing was nondescript and mostly in
darkness, not uncommon for areas such as this. Where was this restaurant at
which they were supposed to be meeting? Sissy began to become nervous, thinking
the worse. Then she realized that it would have been quite easy for the two
Japanese men to overpower her if they wished while she occupied the limo.That
thought made her feel a bit better.The translator held out his arm and she took
it, clutching him tightly as they followed the men who disappeared down a flight
of concrete stairs that led to a wooden door. A peep hole opened and they said
something in Japanese that caused the door to the place to be thrown open,
letting out a blaze of light from the interior.
Sissy and her escort followed the two men into the restaurant. It took a
moment for her to adjust to the noise that was issuing from a wooden stage
located in the front of the nightclub, as well as the light level from the
surroundings. Finally she was able to make out faces, all Japanese it seemed.
Then, as she approached a large table where a group, including members of the ME
team sat, Sissy's outlook improved dramatically as she recognized the snobbish,
young MBA. He was now assisting the team leader, Mr. Owen Bradshaw, who was
seated between two very attractive Japanese women in sunglasses. As Sissy stood
there waiting to be recognized, she happened to glance down and got the shock of
her young life.
( To be continued)
