Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Probably he knows a lot, among his selected audience (with some luck, he is even acquinted with the King of England's brother).
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Tokyo Terror: Beware the Red Dragon
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Kaneko makes it sound like they are rehearsing for 'Pirates of Penzance"!
Quite right too ...
Oh Barb, don't you ever learn?
Excellent piece as always ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Tamiko! I have no idea if Goldman has reminded you about it, but think of bargaining a good wage, health insurance, a decent retirement plan, bonuses, a sufficient number of paid holidays, expenses, meal vouchers and a company car. Mr. Sato's firm is wealthy enough to sustain it!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
If I were Tamiko, I would use homing pigeons to contact Goldman. Much safer against bugging!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Only from Tamiko?
windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 24. Saturday, June 30. 10:15. US Embassy to Japan, Akasaka District, Tokyo
Stan Goldman bit into the petit four from the plate that Carolyn Sheehan had placed in front of them on the conference room table.
“It’s good, isn’t it,” she remarked. “Some say that the French pastries in Japan are every bit as good as the ones in France.”
Stan washed the sweet treat down with a sip of the excellent coffee she had also provided. “I’m no expert on French pastries,” he allowed, “but I can absolutely guarantee that they beat the Danish in the squad room back in the old precinct by a mile. The coffee, too.”
Bill nodded. “That’s a pretty low bar, Stan,” he said.
Carolyn smiled at the banter between the two old colleagues.
“I’m starting to worry a bit about Tamiko,” Bill continued, looking at the clock on the wall set to Tokyo time, sitting next to the one set to Washington, DC time. “She did say, 10 o’clock, right?”
“I resolved to wait until 10:30 before worrying,” Stan said. “I assume she’s looking for the right opportunity to not be observed.”
Just as Stan finished speaking, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and picked it up. “Tamiko,” he began. “I hope you’re OK. Bill is here, so I’m putting you on speaker.” Carolyn sat quietly listening carefully. No need to tell Tamiko where they were and with whom.
“I’m fine, Stan. I’m in the bathroom. They watch us carefully, so I can’t take long.”
“How was last night?” he asked.
“It was OK. Mostly my job is to take the customer’s money. Not too different from the hotel, I guess, except I sit on their laps. They aren’t supposed to touch you, but they do anyway. If they go too far, a big bouncer sets them straight.”
“And the whippings and stuff are fake, I’m pretty sure. The girls scream, but there are no marks. The shibari is real, though, I think. They asked me if I wanted to try it tonight, and I said maybe, so we will see.”
“Any word on our friends?” Bill asked.
Tamiko hesitated. “I haven’t seen them,” she said. She hesitated again. “But it was very busy last night; lots of tourists and they needed girls who speak English. There’s a Korean girl who does. I didn’t see where she came from and she disappeared after the show. But, at one point, I overheard her complaining to one of the other girls, one of the Eastern Europeans, that she was supposed to be off last night to rest up for a big show Saturday night. That’s tonight now.”
“Go on,” Stan encouraged her.
“She said something like, ‘Why don’t they send up one of the new girls; they speak perfect English?’”
“Did she say they were Western-American? Swedish?” Bill asked.
“Not exactly, but I had the impression they were,” Tamiko said. “Look, I have to go or they will be suspicious.”
“OK, what you told us is very useful. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything else, even if it doesn’t seem suspicious, it could be important,” Stan advised. Then the line went dead.
Bill and Stan looked at Carolyn. She thought for a moment. “How well do you know this Tamiko?”
Bill looked at Stan. “Obviously, not for long,” Stan said. “Only since I’ve been here in Japan. But let’s say I have had the chance to get to know her a bit.” He blushed as he said it.
Bill snickered. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” he said.
“I don’t need all the details,” Carolyn said. “She seems pretty smart and resourceful. My gut instinct is that I believe her.”
“And did you notice, the Korean girl she mentioned said ‘send up’, like from underground?” Bill said.
Carolyn nodded and sipped sipped her coffee. “Obviously, it would be better if Tamiko had actually seen them, especially given the diplomatic sensitivities here, but sometimes one has to act on incomplete information. I will relay this back to DC. Needless to say, Barbara Moore’s father, the Senator has been briefed and is demanding action. The Swedes are as well, of course.”
Stan felt a pang at the mention of that name, even though it wasn’t his Barbara Moore. “I’m worried about that ‘show’ that Tamiko mentioned for tonight,” he said. “I can imagine that our three will be in that show and it won’t be fun for them.”
“Count on that,” Bill said. “Nothing involving The Syndicate could be called fun for those in their clutches.”
“These things take time,” Carolyn counselled. “We’ll have to hope for the best and see what can be done.”
Saturday, 30 June. 10:50. Office of Sato Yukio, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
Sato looked up from behind his desk at the mid-thirties Chinese man standing in front of him.
“Yes, Wen. What is it?”
“You remember, Sato-San, that when I was watching those three women at the hotel, I saw Bill Johnson and another man whom the Syndicate was able to identify as a retired New York cop named Stan Goldman?”
Sato sighed. “We have the women now. Those two weren’t able to protect them. They are useless.”
“Maybe so,” Wen replied. “But, something odd. A couple of days ago, around lunchtime I went through the Shinjuku Tower lobby on the way to the hotel. There’s a ramen place there.”
Sato nodded. “I know it. It’s not bad.”
Wen smiled. “Yes, it’s good. Anyway, there was a Western man eating with a Japanese woman. I’m pretty sure it was this Goldman, though I didn’t know who he was at that time.”
“Yes, this Goldman is in Tokyo, we know that. And he was hungry and he picked up a Japanese woman. So what?”
“That new girl you hired yesterday, what’s her name?”
“Tamiko,” Sato replied.
“I think that was her having lunch with Goldman. And she was wearing a uniform from the hotel, like the desk staff wears.”
Sato arched his eyebrows. “You’re sure?” he asked.
Wen shook his head. “All you Japanese look alike to us Chinese,” he said.
Sato smiled weakly at the very poor joke.
Wen continued. “I’m not 100% sure, but I think it was her. Unfortunately, I had no reason to take a picture at that point.”
“She said she worked odd jobs and she seems kind of trashy to have worked at a big hotel, but these girls all lie. It’s worth checking out,” Sato said. He picked up the phone on his desk and pressed one of the buttons. “Kaneko would you please bring that new girl, Tamiko here? I want to ask her some questions. And in case we don’t get the right answers, would you make sure that the Punishment Room is available? Thank you.”
Stan Goldman bit into the petit four from the plate that Carolyn Sheehan had placed in front of them on the conference room table.
“It’s good, isn’t it,” she remarked. “Some say that the French pastries in Japan are every bit as good as the ones in France.”
Stan washed the sweet treat down with a sip of the excellent coffee she had also provided. “I’m no expert on French pastries,” he allowed, “but I can absolutely guarantee that they beat the Danish in the squad room back in the old precinct by a mile. The coffee, too.”
Bill nodded. “That’s a pretty low bar, Stan,” he said.
Carolyn smiled at the banter between the two old colleagues.
“I’m starting to worry a bit about Tamiko,” Bill continued, looking at the clock on the wall set to Tokyo time, sitting next to the one set to Washington, DC time. “She did say, 10 o’clock, right?”
“I resolved to wait until 10:30 before worrying,” Stan said. “I assume she’s looking for the right opportunity to not be observed.”
Just as Stan finished speaking, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and picked it up. “Tamiko,” he began. “I hope you’re OK. Bill is here, so I’m putting you on speaker.” Carolyn sat quietly listening carefully. No need to tell Tamiko where they were and with whom.
“I’m fine, Stan. I’m in the bathroom. They watch us carefully, so I can’t take long.”
“How was last night?” he asked.
“It was OK. Mostly my job is to take the customer’s money. Not too different from the hotel, I guess, except I sit on their laps. They aren’t supposed to touch you, but they do anyway. If they go too far, a big bouncer sets them straight.”
“And the whippings and stuff are fake, I’m pretty sure. The girls scream, but there are no marks. The shibari is real, though, I think. They asked me if I wanted to try it tonight, and I said maybe, so we will see.”
“Any word on our friends?” Bill asked.
Tamiko hesitated. “I haven’t seen them,” she said. She hesitated again. “But it was very busy last night; lots of tourists and they needed girls who speak English. There’s a Korean girl who does. I didn’t see where she came from and she disappeared after the show. But, at one point, I overheard her complaining to one of the other girls, one of the Eastern Europeans, that she was supposed to be off last night to rest up for a big show Saturday night. That’s tonight now.”
“Go on,” Stan encouraged her.
“She said something like, ‘Why don’t they send up one of the new girls; they speak perfect English?’”
“Did she say they were Western-American? Swedish?” Bill asked.
“Not exactly, but I had the impression they were,” Tamiko said. “Look, I have to go or they will be suspicious.”
“OK, what you told us is very useful. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything else, even if it doesn’t seem suspicious, it could be important,” Stan advised. Then the line went dead.
Bill and Stan looked at Carolyn. She thought for a moment. “How well do you know this Tamiko?”
Bill looked at Stan. “Obviously, not for long,” Stan said. “Only since I’ve been here in Japan. But let’s say I have had the chance to get to know her a bit.” He blushed as he said it.
Bill snickered. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” he said.
“I don’t need all the details,” Carolyn said. “She seems pretty smart and resourceful. My gut instinct is that I believe her.”
“And did you notice, the Korean girl she mentioned said ‘send up’, like from underground?” Bill said.
Carolyn nodded and sipped sipped her coffee. “Obviously, it would be better if Tamiko had actually seen them, especially given the diplomatic sensitivities here, but sometimes one has to act on incomplete information. I will relay this back to DC. Needless to say, Barbara Moore’s father, the Senator has been briefed and is demanding action. The Swedes are as well, of course.”
Stan felt a pang at the mention of that name, even though it wasn’t his Barbara Moore. “I’m worried about that ‘show’ that Tamiko mentioned for tonight,” he said. “I can imagine that our three will be in that show and it won’t be fun for them.”
“Count on that,” Bill said. “Nothing involving The Syndicate could be called fun for those in their clutches.”
“These things take time,” Carolyn counselled. “We’ll have to hope for the best and see what can be done.”
Saturday, 30 June. 10:50. Office of Sato Yukio, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
Sato looked up from behind his desk at the mid-thirties Chinese man standing in front of him.
“Yes, Wen. What is it?”
“You remember, Sato-San, that when I was watching those three women at the hotel, I saw Bill Johnson and another man whom the Syndicate was able to identify as a retired New York cop named Stan Goldman?”
Sato sighed. “We have the women now. Those two weren’t able to protect them. They are useless.”
“Maybe so,” Wen replied. “But, something odd. A couple of days ago, around lunchtime I went through the Shinjuku Tower lobby on the way to the hotel. There’s a ramen place there.”
Sato nodded. “I know it. It’s not bad.”
Wen smiled. “Yes, it’s good. Anyway, there was a Western man eating with a Japanese woman. I’m pretty sure it was this Goldman, though I didn’t know who he was at that time.”
“Yes, this Goldman is in Tokyo, we know that. And he was hungry and he picked up a Japanese woman. So what?”
“That new girl you hired yesterday, what’s her name?”
“Tamiko,” Sato replied.
“I think that was her having lunch with Goldman. And she was wearing a uniform from the hotel, like the desk staff wears.”
Sato arched his eyebrows. “You’re sure?” he asked.
Wen shook his head. “All you Japanese look alike to us Chinese,” he said.
Sato smiled weakly at the very poor joke.
Wen continued. “I’m not 100% sure, but I think it was her. Unfortunately, I had no reason to take a picture at that point.”
“She said she worked odd jobs and she seems kind of trashy to have worked at a big hotel, but these girls all lie. It’s worth checking out,” Sato said. He picked up the phone on his desk and pressed one of the buttons. “Kaneko would you please bring that new girl, Tamiko here? I want to ask her some questions. And in case we don’t get the right answers, would you make sure that the Punishment Room is available? Thank you.”
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
"No battle plan survives contact with the enemy!" (Field Marshall Helmuth von Moltke the Elder (1800-1891), chief of staff of the Prussian army).
Uh oh
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Damn ... now this is a scene I cannot wait to see ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
There will soon be a hot foursome in the dungeon of the Red Dragon!Uh oh
Where can I get tickets for the show?
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 25. Saturday, 30 June, 11:15. Office of Sato Yukio, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
Sato watched impassively as Kaneko escorted the girl in. “This is Mr. Wen, a friend of mine,” he said indicating the Chinese man standing beside the desk.
Tamiko bowed. “Pleased to meet you, Wen-San,” she said.
“Sit down, please,” Sato said indicating the plastic chair in front of his desk. He leaned back in his plush leather chair, watching as she sat. It was so much better to start off being polite; there was plenty of time for other methods if that didn’t work.
“How did you find last night, Tamiko?” he asked.
“It was OK,” she replied, non-committally. “Some of the customers asked for sex, but I told them it was forbidden, just like Kaneko-San instructed me.”
“That’s right; it’s forbidden. Unlike some places in Kabukichō, we at the Red Dragon pride ourselves in following the law.” Sato said.
He paused, before continuing. “Wen tells me that he thinks he saw you having ramen in the Shinjuku Park Tower with a Western man a couple of days ago. Isn’t that right, Wen?”
“Now that I see her up close, I am even more sure,” Wen replied.
A momentary look of fear crossed Tamiko’s face before she caught herself. “Where would someone like me get to a fancy place like that? And where would I meet a gaijin?” she said.
“You’re an attractive woman, so maybe he met you on the street and offered to buy you lunch?” Kaneko proposed.
Tamiko looked a bit confused. “If that happened, is that forbidden? I didn’t work here then.”
Sato and Kaneko laughed. “No, it’s not forbidden,” Sato said. “But there is a problem. Wen has identified the man as a former police detective from New York, Stanley Goldman, who was hired to come here to Tokyo to watch over three Western women.”
Tamiko shook her head. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“What about another American, a man named Bill Johnson? He and Goldman were observed having dinner together,” Kaneko asked.
“I don’t know him either.”
“Wen says that when you were having lunch with this Goldman, you were wearing the uniform of the Hyatt hotel on the top floors of the tower,” Sato added. “Both Goldman and Johnson are staying there, so I think that may be where you met them.”
Tamiko shook her head. “No, that’s not true. A fancy hotel like that would never hire someone like me.”
“You sell your talents short, I think, young lady,” Sato said. “You are obviously very accomplished at lying.”
Tamiko looked offended. “I’m not lying. I’m a simple girl trying to survive. I need this job, Sato-San. I will work hard, I promise.”
Kaneko was becoming impatient. “I think you are a spy, sent here by this Goldman and his friend Johnson. I think that phone call you made earlier was to them.”
“No, it wasn’t! I swear! It was to my friend; we were going to meet later today and I wanted to tell her I couldn’t make it.”
“I’ve heard enough. Take this little bitch to the Correction Room. We’ll get to the bottom of this!” Sato said.
Kaneko and Wen each took hold of one of Tamiko’s arms and lifted her out of the chair. She wriggled, shouting, “No! Let me go! Please, I quit!” But, she was small and the two men were too strong for her and in a matter of seconds were marching her towards the door.
“Get her prepared. I will join you very shortly,” Sato said as they dragged the struggling, protesting girl out of the office.
Saturday, 30 June, 11:30. The Correction Room, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
When Sato arrived in the Correction Room, all was ready. Tamiko was seated on a low chair, naked, her arms raised high over her head, her wrists tied together and hooked to a chain that ran over a pulley anchored into the concrete of the ceiling. Her legs were stretched straight out in front of her at waist height, her ankles locked in a heavy wooden pillory. A thick belt around her waist and the back of the chair and another around her thighs and the seat of the chair rendered her more or less immobile. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes staring helplessly at the three men who controlled her fate.
“No more trouble from her?” Sato asked.
“After Wen slapped her across her mouth, she shut up. She even took her clothes off all by herself and sat down nicely and politely,” Kaneko said.
Sato smiled. “That’s good to hear.” He stood over Tamiko, staring down at her naked body. “This is my establishment and there are certain rules here which must be obeyed. One of which is that my employees must tell the truth.”
Tamiko stared at Sato for a moment, then looked away.
“Wen is insulted that you dispute his story,” Sato continued. “He is a bit odd, our Chinese friend. He likes women’s feet. He likes to cane them.”
While Sato was speaking, Wen had gone to a cabinet in the corner of the chamber and returned holding a very flexible rattan cane, almost a meter long and as thick as his little finger. He swished it through the air. It made a chilling sound, chilling at least for the poor young woman bound helplessly in the chair, her feet unprotected against the ravages that the supple instrument could wreak on her tender soles.
Sato shrugged. “To each his own. Nevertheless, he has earned the right to punish your feet, since you have insulted him by calling him a liar. Unless you wish to apologize and confirm his story, that you met with this Goldman and his friend Johnson and they sent you hear to spy on us so they could locate those three Western women that he was supposed to be watching, but failed in his duty to protect.”
Tamiko shook her head. “It’s not true. I’m not calling him a liar, but Wen is mistaken. It was someone else he saw.”
“As you wish, my dear,” Sato said. “Wen will give you just a small sample of his art and then you will have a chance to revise your story.” He sat in a chair in front of Tamiko, close enough to see her reactions, but far enough to leave room for Wen to swing his cane.
Wen took his position, swishing the cane menacingly in front of Tamiko, who stared at it fixedly in horror. He tapped it twice against her soles, adjusting his aim. Then, he twisted his body and sprung forward like a coiled spring and slashed the cane across the insteps of her feet.
The rattan made a sharp crack as it struck, which resounded off the concrete walls of the cellar room. Tamiko moaned and writhed in the chair. She was desperately trying to move her feet away from the next impending strike, but the pillory limited her to just flexing her toes.
Sato watched her struggles and the look of agony on her face as a stripe developed on her bare soles, darkening second by second. Wen wound up and struck again, a little closer towards the ball of the foot, leaving a second red stripe.
“Owww!” Tamiko screamed.
Wen struck again.
“Oh, God! It hurts! Please, stop!” Tamiko shouted after she caught her breath.
Sato stood and over to Tamiko, pausing to have a closer look at her feet. He bent over her, brushing her hair from her face, which was bathed in sweat and tears. “I know it hurts,” he said, almost tenderly, like a lover. “But you must tell me the truth. Then it will stop.”
She shook her head.
“As you wish,” Sato said, stepping back and motioning Wen back into position.
Tamiko was a brave girl and held out for ten more minutes and well over a dozen cane strokes, which left her soles, from the toes to the heels, a mess of agonizing welts, before she broke, sobbing, “Please, I beg you, stop. I admit it, it was me with Goldman in Shinjuku.”
Sato motioned for Wen to stop. “Go on,” he urged, “It’s best you tell me the whole story.”
“I work at the hotel, at the desk. I met Goldman there. And then Bill Johnson arrived.”
“Did you fuck them?”
“Goldman, yes, but not Johnson,” she replied. “When those women were kidnapped, they begged me to help them discover how the kidnappers got them out of the hotel. We figured out it was in the laundry cart. Then, they talked me into coming here to see if they were being held here.”
“And was that why you wanted your phone?”
“Yes, I called Goldman. Bill Johnson listened in. I told them I haven’t seen those women, but the gossip was that there were some new arrivals, Westerners.”
“Gossip? What gossip?”
“From a Korean girl, I don’t know her name.”
Sato looked at Kaneko. “We’ll have to deal with that later. Maybe as part of tonight’s show.”
Kaneko smiled at that.
Then Sato turned back to Tamiko. “Do those two losers have a plan to try to get those girls out?”
Tamiko shook her head. “They didn’t tell me.”
Sato narrowed his eyes and looked at her.
“Please, you must believe me,” Tamiko said. “They’re ex-cops from New York. I’m just a hotel desk clerk, so that’s their business. All they wanted me to do was find out if those women were here. Then I was going to leave and go back to my life.” She began sobbing, as she had to know that was no longer possible.
Sato thought for a moment. “Alright, get her cleaned up and put her in the afternoon rehearsal for the show tonight. We can always use one more. In the meantime, you can have some fun with her.”
Kaneko and Wen immediately began unbuckling the various restraints that had held Tamiko in place. They helped her stand. She winced as her battered feet touched the hard concrete floor. They helped her limp to a mattress that lay in one corner. They were already stripping off as Sato left the room.
Sato watched impassively as Kaneko escorted the girl in. “This is Mr. Wen, a friend of mine,” he said indicating the Chinese man standing beside the desk.
Tamiko bowed. “Pleased to meet you, Wen-San,” she said.
“Sit down, please,” Sato said indicating the plastic chair in front of his desk. He leaned back in his plush leather chair, watching as she sat. It was so much better to start off being polite; there was plenty of time for other methods if that didn’t work.
“How did you find last night, Tamiko?” he asked.
“It was OK,” she replied, non-committally. “Some of the customers asked for sex, but I told them it was forbidden, just like Kaneko-San instructed me.”
“That’s right; it’s forbidden. Unlike some places in Kabukichō, we at the Red Dragon pride ourselves in following the law.” Sato said.
He paused, before continuing. “Wen tells me that he thinks he saw you having ramen in the Shinjuku Park Tower with a Western man a couple of days ago. Isn’t that right, Wen?”
“Now that I see her up close, I am even more sure,” Wen replied.
A momentary look of fear crossed Tamiko’s face before she caught herself. “Where would someone like me get to a fancy place like that? And where would I meet a gaijin?” she said.
“You’re an attractive woman, so maybe he met you on the street and offered to buy you lunch?” Kaneko proposed.
Tamiko looked a bit confused. “If that happened, is that forbidden? I didn’t work here then.”
Sato and Kaneko laughed. “No, it’s not forbidden,” Sato said. “But there is a problem. Wen has identified the man as a former police detective from New York, Stanley Goldman, who was hired to come here to Tokyo to watch over three Western women.”
Tamiko shook her head. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“What about another American, a man named Bill Johnson? He and Goldman were observed having dinner together,” Kaneko asked.
“I don’t know him either.”
“Wen says that when you were having lunch with this Goldman, you were wearing the uniform of the Hyatt hotel on the top floors of the tower,” Sato added. “Both Goldman and Johnson are staying there, so I think that may be where you met them.”
Tamiko shook her head. “No, that’s not true. A fancy hotel like that would never hire someone like me.”
“You sell your talents short, I think, young lady,” Sato said. “You are obviously very accomplished at lying.”
Tamiko looked offended. “I’m not lying. I’m a simple girl trying to survive. I need this job, Sato-San. I will work hard, I promise.”
Kaneko was becoming impatient. “I think you are a spy, sent here by this Goldman and his friend Johnson. I think that phone call you made earlier was to them.”
“No, it wasn’t! I swear! It was to my friend; we were going to meet later today and I wanted to tell her I couldn’t make it.”
“I’ve heard enough. Take this little bitch to the Correction Room. We’ll get to the bottom of this!” Sato said.
Kaneko and Wen each took hold of one of Tamiko’s arms and lifted her out of the chair. She wriggled, shouting, “No! Let me go! Please, I quit!” But, she was small and the two men were too strong for her and in a matter of seconds were marching her towards the door.
“Get her prepared. I will join you very shortly,” Sato said as they dragged the struggling, protesting girl out of the office.
Saturday, 30 June, 11:30. The Correction Room, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
When Sato arrived in the Correction Room, all was ready. Tamiko was seated on a low chair, naked, her arms raised high over her head, her wrists tied together and hooked to a chain that ran over a pulley anchored into the concrete of the ceiling. Her legs were stretched straight out in front of her at waist height, her ankles locked in a heavy wooden pillory. A thick belt around her waist and the back of the chair and another around her thighs and the seat of the chair rendered her more or less immobile. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes staring helplessly at the three men who controlled her fate.
“No more trouble from her?” Sato asked.
“After Wen slapped her across her mouth, she shut up. She even took her clothes off all by herself and sat down nicely and politely,” Kaneko said.
Sato smiled. “That’s good to hear.” He stood over Tamiko, staring down at her naked body. “This is my establishment and there are certain rules here which must be obeyed. One of which is that my employees must tell the truth.”
Tamiko stared at Sato for a moment, then looked away.
“Wen is insulted that you dispute his story,” Sato continued. “He is a bit odd, our Chinese friend. He likes women’s feet. He likes to cane them.”
While Sato was speaking, Wen had gone to a cabinet in the corner of the chamber and returned holding a very flexible rattan cane, almost a meter long and as thick as his little finger. He swished it through the air. It made a chilling sound, chilling at least for the poor young woman bound helplessly in the chair, her feet unprotected against the ravages that the supple instrument could wreak on her tender soles.
Sato shrugged. “To each his own. Nevertheless, he has earned the right to punish your feet, since you have insulted him by calling him a liar. Unless you wish to apologize and confirm his story, that you met with this Goldman and his friend Johnson and they sent you hear to spy on us so they could locate those three Western women that he was supposed to be watching, but failed in his duty to protect.”
Tamiko shook her head. “It’s not true. I’m not calling him a liar, but Wen is mistaken. It was someone else he saw.”
“As you wish, my dear,” Sato said. “Wen will give you just a small sample of his art and then you will have a chance to revise your story.” He sat in a chair in front of Tamiko, close enough to see her reactions, but far enough to leave room for Wen to swing his cane.
Wen took his position, swishing the cane menacingly in front of Tamiko, who stared at it fixedly in horror. He tapped it twice against her soles, adjusting his aim. Then, he twisted his body and sprung forward like a coiled spring and slashed the cane across the insteps of her feet.
The rattan made a sharp crack as it struck, which resounded off the concrete walls of the cellar room. Tamiko moaned and writhed in the chair. She was desperately trying to move her feet away from the next impending strike, but the pillory limited her to just flexing her toes.
Sato watched her struggles and the look of agony on her face as a stripe developed on her bare soles, darkening second by second. Wen wound up and struck again, a little closer towards the ball of the foot, leaving a second red stripe.
“Owww!” Tamiko screamed.
Wen struck again.
“Oh, God! It hurts! Please, stop!” Tamiko shouted after she caught her breath.
Sato stood and over to Tamiko, pausing to have a closer look at her feet. He bent over her, brushing her hair from her face, which was bathed in sweat and tears. “I know it hurts,” he said, almost tenderly, like a lover. “But you must tell me the truth. Then it will stop.”
She shook her head.
“As you wish,” Sato said, stepping back and motioning Wen back into position.
Tamiko was a brave girl and held out for ten more minutes and well over a dozen cane strokes, which left her soles, from the toes to the heels, a mess of agonizing welts, before she broke, sobbing, “Please, I beg you, stop. I admit it, it was me with Goldman in Shinjuku.”
Sato motioned for Wen to stop. “Go on,” he urged, “It’s best you tell me the whole story.”
“I work at the hotel, at the desk. I met Goldman there. And then Bill Johnson arrived.”
“Did you fuck them?”
“Goldman, yes, but not Johnson,” she replied. “When those women were kidnapped, they begged me to help them discover how the kidnappers got them out of the hotel. We figured out it was in the laundry cart. Then, they talked me into coming here to see if they were being held here.”
“And was that why you wanted your phone?”
“Yes, I called Goldman. Bill Johnson listened in. I told them I haven’t seen those women, but the gossip was that there were some new arrivals, Westerners.”
“Gossip? What gossip?”
“From a Korean girl, I don’t know her name.”
Sato looked at Kaneko. “We’ll have to deal with that later. Maybe as part of tonight’s show.”
Kaneko smiled at that.
Then Sato turned back to Tamiko. “Do those two losers have a plan to try to get those girls out?”
Tamiko shook her head. “They didn’t tell me.”
Sato narrowed his eyes and looked at her.
“Please, you must believe me,” Tamiko said. “They’re ex-cops from New York. I’m just a hotel desk clerk, so that’s their business. All they wanted me to do was find out if those women were here. Then I was going to leave and go back to my life.” She began sobbing, as she had to know that was no longer possible.
Sato thought for a moment. “Alright, get her cleaned up and put her in the afternoon rehearsal for the show tonight. We can always use one more. In the meantime, you can have some fun with her.”
Kaneko and Wen immediately began unbuckling the various restraints that had held Tamiko in place. They helped her stand. She winced as her battered feet touched the hard concrete floor. They helped her limp to a mattress that lay in one corner. They were already stripping off as Sato left the room.
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
And now? Stan Goldman and Bill Johnson are running out of options! Reinforcement from Sweden will not change that.
If sending the 101st Airborne or the Navy Seals is out of the question, then all they can do is put on a samurai gear and set up a kamikaze attack on The red Dragon.
If sending the 101st Airborne or the Navy Seals is out of the question, then all they can do is put on a samurai gear and set up a kamikaze attack on The red Dragon.
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
windar
Teller of Tales
Fantastic! Thank you!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Great pic again!