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Tokyo Terror: Beware the Red Dragon
- Thread starter Barbaria1
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Chapter 26. Saturday, 30 June, 15:08. Below ground auditorium stage, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
“Alright, everyone take your places.” barked Kaneko, speaking first in Japanese and then in English. “This is the final rehearsal before tonight’s show and I want to make certain that everyone has their part right.”
“Of course we have it right. It’s not that complicated, is it? We bring in the Westerner sluts. Kaneko pronounces them guilty. They get caned and raped,” whispered Himari sarcastically in Barb’s ear. As she spoke, her hand gently massaged her mildly reddened butt, still smarting from the strapping she had received the previous afternoon while strung up face-to-face with Barb in the ‘corrections’ room. The two of them had bonded somewhat following that shared experience.
“Right.” agreed Barb. “By the way, who is the new girl?”
“I’m not sure who she is or why Kaneko has brought her down here. All I know is that she’s a new hostess upstairs. She spoke to me briefly last night when Kaneko dragged me up there to lie on one of those torture racks they use in the revolving stage dioramas. Apparently they’re short-staffed upstairs. Although my conversation with her was brief, she asked a lot of questions.”
“Well, apparently she’s gotten herself in trouble or she wouldn’t be down here.”
“Before we get started,” continued Kaneko, “I’d like to draw everyone’s attention to the fact that we have a new member of our troupe. Her name is Tamiko.”
“It’s strange,“ whispered Annika to the others, “I’m almost certain she’s one of the desk clerks at our hotel. Is that possible?”
“You’re right. I think she is too,” chimed in Gun.
“Shhhhhh,” cautioned Himari. “Listen!”
“Tamiko’s joining us has necessitated a slight alteration of the script,” Kaneko was explaining. “Gun, Annika and Barb will be tried, as before, in the opening court scene for committing a series of ‘petty touristy crimes’. But now Tamiko will join them on the docket in the role of the Japanese tourist guide accused of aiding and abetting the Westerners’ crime spree … a serious charge deserving of special punishment. So, she too will appear before the court, naked, fettered and hooded, and will learn of her sentence only after the others have learned of theirs.”
“And what do you plan to do to her?” shouted Gun.
“You’ll speak. Thorell, only when told to speak,” snapped Kaneko. You should have learned that by now. He nodded a signal cue to one of his men, who promptly marched over to where Gun was standing and drove his fist into her gut using sufficient force to send her to her knees gasping for breath.
“Now, if I may continue without further distraction, it will be the decision of the court to sentence Tamiko to a judicial flogging of forty lashes, administered half to her backside and half to her front. As with the canings, Humari and the others will begin the whipping but will then yield their places to our customers who have paid for the privilege of taking over.”
At his command the stage rotated to reveal the back-side scene with its three caning frames. A sturdy x-frame with shackles dangling at its extremities had since been added to the set, as well as a rack displaying an assortment of whips.
“Shit!” gasped Barb half-under her breath.
She received a warning glance before Kaneko continued, “Alright, let’s turn the stage back to the first scene so we can get the rehearsal under way. Here are your lines, Tamiko. You’ll be expected to deliver them in both Japanese and English. Places everyone.”
“Wait,” she said, her voice faint and subdued, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “I can’t do this! It’s true that I was sent to find out whether these women had been taken here. But that’s all. I swear! You know that! I confessed everything yesterday. You gave me no choice. I can barely stand after having my feet beaten earlier this afternoon. You’ve gotten everything I know out of me. I don’t want to be whipped as well. Please, why can’t you just let me go? If you let me go I can simply tell the people who sent me here that as it turned out I found nothing … that I was wrong. The women they seek are not here after all. Please! I just want to return to my job at the hotel and think of this as very bad dream. I’m supposed to report for work on Monday. If I don’t show I could lose my job!”
“Sorry, Tamiko. Too late for that. And I can promise you that you’ll sincerely regret ever coming here even more than you do now by the time we’re finished with you. Indeed, like the others here, it’s doubtful you’ll ever leave this place. You’re a Red Dragon sex slave now. And, rest assured, a plausible explanation for abruptly leaving your job will be given to your employer. The Syndicate will see to that … they probably hold the loans for the hotel’s construction and operation. And, I’m good time, the Syndicate will likely see … in a terminal fashion … to those who sent you here. Now, let’s cut the jawboning and get on here with the business at hand. Places everyone.”
Saturday, 30 June, 07:35 (15:35 Tokyo time), Short-term Security Detention Area, Stockholm-Arlanda Airport.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing, Hansson?” roared Bulldozer Olsson as he barged into the detention room with Chief Björklund trailing close behind.
“You of all people, Bertil, ought to have known better than to try to leave the country when under Internal Affairs investigation.” scolded the Chief.
Bertil regarded them both for a long moment and then simply shrugged.
“It’s all about Gun, isn’t it?” the Chief suggested, attempting to show a little compassion and understanding. “It’s only natural that you’d want to go to her given the situation in Tokyo.”
Bertil nodded glumly.
“Consider yourself fortunate, Hansson … fortunate that Björklund and I got wind of this hare-brained stunt of yours, pulled some strings and had you quietly detained here by some of my own SÄPO people. With a little luck we might even be able to get you out of here before anyone in law enforcement gets wind of it,” said Bulldozer.
“Uh, thanks for that. What tipped you off?”
“Your wife,” replied Björklund matter of factly.
“Maj? I should have known.”
“Yes, you should have. But look, Bertil. It’s just as well. We have Goldman and Johnson on the ground in Tokyo. They’re pros. If Gun, Annika and Barb Moore can be rescued from the clutches of the Syndicate, they’re the ones who can best pull it off. Even if you could get yourself to Tokyo in time, which is doubtful, you probably would be more of a hindrance than a help. Let us take you home to Maj. There you can open a bottle, sit tight and await developments from Tokyo.”
TBC
“Alright, everyone take your places.” barked Kaneko, speaking first in Japanese and then in English. “This is the final rehearsal before tonight’s show and I want to make certain that everyone has their part right.”
“Of course we have it right. It’s not that complicated, is it? We bring in the Westerner sluts. Kaneko pronounces them guilty. They get caned and raped,” whispered Himari sarcastically in Barb’s ear. As she spoke, her hand gently massaged her mildly reddened butt, still smarting from the strapping she had received the previous afternoon while strung up face-to-face with Barb in the ‘corrections’ room. The two of them had bonded somewhat following that shared experience.
“Right.” agreed Barb. “By the way, who is the new girl?”
“I’m not sure who she is or why Kaneko has brought her down here. All I know is that she’s a new hostess upstairs. She spoke to me briefly last night when Kaneko dragged me up there to lie on one of those torture racks they use in the revolving stage dioramas. Apparently they’re short-staffed upstairs. Although my conversation with her was brief, she asked a lot of questions.”
“Well, apparently she’s gotten herself in trouble or she wouldn’t be down here.”
“Before we get started,” continued Kaneko, “I’d like to draw everyone’s attention to the fact that we have a new member of our troupe. Her name is Tamiko.”
“It’s strange,“ whispered Annika to the others, “I’m almost certain she’s one of the desk clerks at our hotel. Is that possible?”
“You’re right. I think she is too,” chimed in Gun.
“Shhhhhh,” cautioned Himari. “Listen!”
“Tamiko’s joining us has necessitated a slight alteration of the script,” Kaneko was explaining. “Gun, Annika and Barb will be tried, as before, in the opening court scene for committing a series of ‘petty touristy crimes’. But now Tamiko will join them on the docket in the role of the Japanese tourist guide accused of aiding and abetting the Westerners’ crime spree … a serious charge deserving of special punishment. So, she too will appear before the court, naked, fettered and hooded, and will learn of her sentence only after the others have learned of theirs.”
“And what do you plan to do to her?” shouted Gun.
“You’ll speak. Thorell, only when told to speak,” snapped Kaneko. You should have learned that by now. He nodded a signal cue to one of his men, who promptly marched over to where Gun was standing and drove his fist into her gut using sufficient force to send her to her knees gasping for breath.
“Now, if I may continue without further distraction, it will be the decision of the court to sentence Tamiko to a judicial flogging of forty lashes, administered half to her backside and half to her front. As with the canings, Humari and the others will begin the whipping but will then yield their places to our customers who have paid for the privilege of taking over.”
At his command the stage rotated to reveal the back-side scene with its three caning frames. A sturdy x-frame with shackles dangling at its extremities had since been added to the set, as well as a rack displaying an assortment of whips.
“Shit!” gasped Barb half-under her breath.
She received a warning glance before Kaneko continued, “Alright, let’s turn the stage back to the first scene so we can get the rehearsal under way. Here are your lines, Tamiko. You’ll be expected to deliver them in both Japanese and English. Places everyone.”
“Wait,” she said, her voice faint and subdued, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “I can’t do this! It’s true that I was sent to find out whether these women had been taken here. But that’s all. I swear! You know that! I confessed everything yesterday. You gave me no choice. I can barely stand after having my feet beaten earlier this afternoon. You’ve gotten everything I know out of me. I don’t want to be whipped as well. Please, why can’t you just let me go? If you let me go I can simply tell the people who sent me here that as it turned out I found nothing … that I was wrong. The women they seek are not here after all. Please! I just want to return to my job at the hotel and think of this as very bad dream. I’m supposed to report for work on Monday. If I don’t show I could lose my job!”
“Sorry, Tamiko. Too late for that. And I can promise you that you’ll sincerely regret ever coming here even more than you do now by the time we’re finished with you. Indeed, like the others here, it’s doubtful you’ll ever leave this place. You’re a Red Dragon sex slave now. And, rest assured, a plausible explanation for abruptly leaving your job will be given to your employer. The Syndicate will see to that … they probably hold the loans for the hotel’s construction and operation. And, I’m good time, the Syndicate will likely see … in a terminal fashion … to those who sent you here. Now, let’s cut the jawboning and get on here with the business at hand. Places everyone.”
Saturday, 30 June, 07:35 (15:35 Tokyo time), Short-term Security Detention Area, Stockholm-Arlanda Airport.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing, Hansson?” roared Bulldozer Olsson as he barged into the detention room with Chief Björklund trailing close behind.
“You of all people, Bertil, ought to have known better than to try to leave the country when under Internal Affairs investigation.” scolded the Chief.
Bertil regarded them both for a long moment and then simply shrugged.
“It’s all about Gun, isn’t it?” the Chief suggested, attempting to show a little compassion and understanding. “It’s only natural that you’d want to go to her given the situation in Tokyo.”
Bertil nodded glumly.
“Consider yourself fortunate, Hansson … fortunate that Björklund and I got wind of this hare-brained stunt of yours, pulled some strings and had you quietly detained here by some of my own SÄPO people. With a little luck we might even be able to get you out of here before anyone in law enforcement gets wind of it,” said Bulldozer.
“Uh, thanks for that. What tipped you off?”
“Your wife,” replied Björklund matter of factly.
“Maj? I should have known.”
“Yes, you should have. But look, Bertil. It’s just as well. We have Goldman and Johnson on the ground in Tokyo. They’re pros. If Gun, Annika and Barb Moore can be rescued from the clutches of the Syndicate, they’re the ones who can best pull it off. Even if you could get yourself to Tokyo in time, which is doubtful, you probably would be more of a hindrance than a help. Let us take you home to Maj. There you can open a bottle, sit tight and await developments from Tokyo.”
TBC
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Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Seems fair to me!
And they are literally on the ground now! Rather : grounded!
At last someone with common sense in this story!
windar
Teller of Tales
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
"There's no business like show business ..."
Damn ... they've certainly updated The Mikado since I last saw it!
Barb and Tamiko are briefed ... (Or should it be de-briefed) about tonight's show ...
Loved it as always Barb ...
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
windar
Teller of Tales
Chapter 27. Saturday, June 30. 12:30. US Embassy to Japan, Akasaka District, Tokyo
Stan and Bill were enjoying some excellent, very fresh sushi that Carolyn Sheehan had had ordered from a nearby place that was a favorite with embassy personnel, washed down with some Kirin beer. Carolyn had taken a plate for herself and disappeared into her office to call back to Langley. She had been gone almost half an hour.
Stan glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s the middle of the night back there,” he remarked. “I hope she’s able to get in touch with the people who can actually do something.”
Bill looked at him. “A Senator’s daughter is in some nasty hell-hole. They’ll wake the President if they need to, though I think this can be handled at a bit lower level.”
“Let’s hope so,” Stan replied.
At that moment, the door opened and Carolyn entered. She took her seat back and popped a bit of rice-encrusted raw salmon into her mouth. “They are good, aren’t they?” she said, sighing. “And good for you, too.”
She continued, “I just got off the phone with Langley. Of course they had to brief the Senator. He’s on the Intelligence Committee, after all.” Bill and Stan nodded. “Anyway, he’s on his way here. On his personal jet. They’ll have to stop and refuel in Alaska, but they’ll be here by tomorrow morning.”
Bill looked perturbed. “He wasn’t much help in Sweden. Quite the contrary, in fact, he was a pain in the ass. He even brought his intern along, a young lady by the name of Sherri Merriweather. Is she accompanying him this time?” he asked.
“The people at Langley didn’t say and I didn’t think it was appropriate to ask. Given the short notice, we can hope not,” Carolyn replied, after selecting a very succulent-looking piece of unagi (eel) sushi.
“So, is there a plan?” Stan asked.
Carolyn swallowed the sushi and washed it down with a sip of sparkling water-she had declined the beer. “Not so far as I know. I would guess they want to let the Senator handle things once he arrives. It’s his daughter after all. That way if our Japanese hosts object, we can credibly claim it wasn’t a government operation, even if he was a presidential candidate in the last election. After all, he lost,” she said, not seeming too heartbroken at that outcome.
“But, surely the Senator isn’t going to barge in there and free those women with his bare hands,” Bill objected. “Is he bringing some hired muscle?”
“I don’t know,” Carolyn replied. “Given the short notice, I suspect not, though maybe he’s on the phone arranging something as we speak. We’ll just have to wait until he arrives.”
“Well, I’ll be damned just sitting here on my ass, munching sushi, even if it is terrific sushi,” Stan said. “Those women are suffering in ways we can’t even imagine,” he protested, though he could imagine better than he let on what they might be enduring.
“Look, Stan,” Bill said. “I understand exactly where you’re coming from. You feel responsible for them, I get that. But you couldn’t watch them every second, especially since Gun made damn clear she didn’t want your protection. She was sure she didn’t need it. Well, she was wrong.”
“Not just the three of them, but also Tamiko. We haven’t heard from her. Maybe she’s OK, but maybe they found her out. We just don’t know. And we sent her in there, Bill, both of us.”
“So what do you want to do, Stan? Barge in there demanding that they let them go? That’s a great way to get ourselves killed without helping them.”
Stan thought for a moment. “Tamiko said there was some kind of big show tonight that the girl who saw our three was going to be in, didn’t she?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Bill said, nodding. Carolyn nodded as well.
“And, would it make sense that our three, as a new attraction, and Western to top it off, would be in that show?”
Bill and Carolyn both nodded. “Sure, that would make sense,” Bill said.
“Well, then, maybe we ought to see if we can attend that show,” Stan said. “After all, Tamiko didn’t personally see them and you know how unreliable second-hand testimony can be.”
“Of course,” Bill replied. “But getting in to that show isn’t going to be so simple. You said everything you saw at the Red Dragon was within the bounds of the law. So if they are doing a show with women they’ve kidnapped, they won’t be advertising it on their web site, will they?”
“No, I guess not,” Stan admitted.
Carolyn thought for a minute. “Not on their public web site, but maybe…” The two men looked at her. “Let me make a call. We’ve got some pretty smart computer jocks back at Langley. They know all the tricks of the dark web.”
Bill smiled. “Yeah, Carolyn, I wonder if Jason Berry is around this time of night.”
“He can always do it from his home if he’s not,” she said as she stood up.
Carolyn returned about twenty minutes later, with a non-descript cell phone and a slip of paper with a number and the name ‘Marco’ written on it.
“You guys are two players from the States. You just got into town. A friend told you about a great time he had at their club in the ‘VIP Section’. Use this phone; it’s untraceable.”
“I assume it’s going to cost,” Bill said. “Neither Stan nor I are flush right now.”
“We have a slush fund,” Carolyn replied. “If this all works, the Director can try to get re-imbursed from the Senator’s personal funds. If not, it’s a rounding error in the budget. But don’t be afraid to bargain with them.”
Stan picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang four times before someone picked.
“Hello,” the voice said. It was a male, gruff, but his English appeared unaccented.
“I want to speak with ‘Marco’, please,” Stan said.
“This is Marco.” Stan was fairly sure that wasn’t his real name.
“My friend and I just got into town and we heard there’s a special VIP show tonight.”
“Maybe,” the man replied. “It’s kinda late to add new guests. It will cost you.”
“How much?” Stan asked.
“100 grand.”
“100,000 yen,” Stan said. “We can do that.”
The man on the other end laughed. “You’re a real comedian,” he said. “Dollars, 100,000 US dollars. Believe me, it’s worth it. We’ve got some very special players tonight. Brand new, never been in a show like this before.”
“100k for the two of us?” Stan asked.
“Each.”
“Come on,” Stan protested. “You already have a bunch of guests, I take it. This is gravy for you. How about a deal?”
The line went quiet. Stan had a feeling the man had put the phone on mute to consult with someone else. He came back on, “$ 150,000 for the two. Take it or leave it.”
Carolyn nodded. “OK,” Stan said.
The man read them some bank coordinates for the wire transfer. ‘If the money’s there by 20h00, then you’re in. Otherwise, forget it. Come to the door and ask for ‘Marco’ and the doorman will escort you to the right place.” The line went dead.
“I’ll get the wire taken care of,” Carolyn said.
“They had people at the hotel. I’m concerned they’ll recognize us,” Bill said.
“I know an excellent make-up artist. She’s worked in Hollywood and now works for Japanese TV.” Carolyn replied. “When she’s done, your own mothers wouldn’t recognize you.”
Stan and Bill were enjoying some excellent, very fresh sushi that Carolyn Sheehan had had ordered from a nearby place that was a favorite with embassy personnel, washed down with some Kirin beer. Carolyn had taken a plate for herself and disappeared into her office to call back to Langley. She had been gone almost half an hour.
Stan glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s the middle of the night back there,” he remarked. “I hope she’s able to get in touch with the people who can actually do something.”
Bill looked at him. “A Senator’s daughter is in some nasty hell-hole. They’ll wake the President if they need to, though I think this can be handled at a bit lower level.”
“Let’s hope so,” Stan replied.
At that moment, the door opened and Carolyn entered. She took her seat back and popped a bit of rice-encrusted raw salmon into her mouth. “They are good, aren’t they?” she said, sighing. “And good for you, too.”
She continued, “I just got off the phone with Langley. Of course they had to brief the Senator. He’s on the Intelligence Committee, after all.” Bill and Stan nodded. “Anyway, he’s on his way here. On his personal jet. They’ll have to stop and refuel in Alaska, but they’ll be here by tomorrow morning.”
Bill looked perturbed. “He wasn’t much help in Sweden. Quite the contrary, in fact, he was a pain in the ass. He even brought his intern along, a young lady by the name of Sherri Merriweather. Is she accompanying him this time?” he asked.
“The people at Langley didn’t say and I didn’t think it was appropriate to ask. Given the short notice, we can hope not,” Carolyn replied, after selecting a very succulent-looking piece of unagi (eel) sushi.
“So, is there a plan?” Stan asked.
Carolyn swallowed the sushi and washed it down with a sip of sparkling water-she had declined the beer. “Not so far as I know. I would guess they want to let the Senator handle things once he arrives. It’s his daughter after all. That way if our Japanese hosts object, we can credibly claim it wasn’t a government operation, even if he was a presidential candidate in the last election. After all, he lost,” she said, not seeming too heartbroken at that outcome.
“But, surely the Senator isn’t going to barge in there and free those women with his bare hands,” Bill objected. “Is he bringing some hired muscle?”
“I don’t know,” Carolyn replied. “Given the short notice, I suspect not, though maybe he’s on the phone arranging something as we speak. We’ll just have to wait until he arrives.”
“Well, I’ll be damned just sitting here on my ass, munching sushi, even if it is terrific sushi,” Stan said. “Those women are suffering in ways we can’t even imagine,” he protested, though he could imagine better than he let on what they might be enduring.
“Look, Stan,” Bill said. “I understand exactly where you’re coming from. You feel responsible for them, I get that. But you couldn’t watch them every second, especially since Gun made damn clear she didn’t want your protection. She was sure she didn’t need it. Well, she was wrong.”
“Not just the three of them, but also Tamiko. We haven’t heard from her. Maybe she’s OK, but maybe they found her out. We just don’t know. And we sent her in there, Bill, both of us.”
“So what do you want to do, Stan? Barge in there demanding that they let them go? That’s a great way to get ourselves killed without helping them.”
Stan thought for a moment. “Tamiko said there was some kind of big show tonight that the girl who saw our three was going to be in, didn’t she?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Bill said, nodding. Carolyn nodded as well.
“And, would it make sense that our three, as a new attraction, and Western to top it off, would be in that show?”
Bill and Carolyn both nodded. “Sure, that would make sense,” Bill said.
“Well, then, maybe we ought to see if we can attend that show,” Stan said. “After all, Tamiko didn’t personally see them and you know how unreliable second-hand testimony can be.”
“Of course,” Bill replied. “But getting in to that show isn’t going to be so simple. You said everything you saw at the Red Dragon was within the bounds of the law. So if they are doing a show with women they’ve kidnapped, they won’t be advertising it on their web site, will they?”
“No, I guess not,” Stan admitted.
Carolyn thought for a minute. “Not on their public web site, but maybe…” The two men looked at her. “Let me make a call. We’ve got some pretty smart computer jocks back at Langley. They know all the tricks of the dark web.”
Bill smiled. “Yeah, Carolyn, I wonder if Jason Berry is around this time of night.”
“He can always do it from his home if he’s not,” she said as she stood up.
Carolyn returned about twenty minutes later, with a non-descript cell phone and a slip of paper with a number and the name ‘Marco’ written on it.
“You guys are two players from the States. You just got into town. A friend told you about a great time he had at their club in the ‘VIP Section’. Use this phone; it’s untraceable.”
“I assume it’s going to cost,” Bill said. “Neither Stan nor I are flush right now.”
“We have a slush fund,” Carolyn replied. “If this all works, the Director can try to get re-imbursed from the Senator’s personal funds. If not, it’s a rounding error in the budget. But don’t be afraid to bargain with them.”
Stan picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang four times before someone picked.
“Hello,” the voice said. It was a male, gruff, but his English appeared unaccented.
“I want to speak with ‘Marco’, please,” Stan said.
“This is Marco.” Stan was fairly sure that wasn’t his real name.
“My friend and I just got into town and we heard there’s a special VIP show tonight.”
“Maybe,” the man replied. “It’s kinda late to add new guests. It will cost you.”
“How much?” Stan asked.
“100 grand.”
“100,000 yen,” Stan said. “We can do that.”
The man on the other end laughed. “You’re a real comedian,” he said. “Dollars, 100,000 US dollars. Believe me, it’s worth it. We’ve got some very special players tonight. Brand new, never been in a show like this before.”
“100k for the two of us?” Stan asked.
“Each.”
“Come on,” Stan protested. “You already have a bunch of guests, I take it. This is gravy for you. How about a deal?”
The line went quiet. Stan had a feeling the man had put the phone on mute to consult with someone else. He came back on, “$ 150,000 for the two. Take it or leave it.”
Carolyn nodded. “OK,” Stan said.
The man read them some bank coordinates for the wire transfer. ‘If the money’s there by 20h00, then you’re in. Otherwise, forget it. Come to the door and ask for ‘Marco’ and the doorman will escort you to the right place.” The line went dead.
“I’ll get the wire taken care of,” Carolyn said.
“They had people at the hotel. I’m concerned they’ll recognize us,” Bill said.
“I know an excellent make-up artist. She’s worked in Hollywood and now works for Japanese TV.” Carolyn replied. “When she’s done, your own mothers wouldn’t recognize you.”
Carolyn’s make-up artist hasn’t seen Goldman’s mug yet.
Mikerytel
Senator
https://freeimage.host/i/HUBcBMQ that's how I picture this Goldman guyCarolyn’s make-up artist hasn’t seen Goldman’s mug yet.
Close but not quite:
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Always handy ...
Wow ... that's some slush fund!
And now the Senator's on his way across...
This is far from over!
Excellent as always Windy...
Mikerytel
Senator
That works better. He was the best thing on law and order
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
President Moore!? "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
Goldman & Johnson! ready for their mission!
windar
Teller of Tales
Which one is which???
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Chapter 28. Saturday, 30 June, 20:52. Below ground auditorium stage, The Red Dragon Torture Dungeon Place, Kabukichō District, Tokyo.
Standing just offstage with Barb, Annika, and now Tamiko too, Gun Thorell peered out through a narrow gap in the heavy red velvet stage curtains. It was but a few minutes before the performance was to get underway, and the several curved rows of red-upholsterd seats out on the auditorium floor were nearly all occupied.
The clientele, as one might have suspected, was entirely male, rather mixed in age, although few could be said to be youthful. They seemed well-dressed, presumably men of wealth and substance. Most appeared to be Asians, although there were several who wore the traditional ‘thobe’ of a Saudi prince, as well as a smattering of Westerners.
“This is going to be anything but fun,” observed Barb drily, edging Gun aside enough to take her own peek at the audience. “A real shit-show in the making if there ever was one.”
“Bunch of total perverts out there,” agreed Annika distastefully as she peered over Barb’s shoulder.
“Silence!” hissed Kaneko. “Line up now and get ready, we’re about to go on. Play your parts as rehearsed, and don’t try any funny business!”
Obediently, the four ‘prisoners’ lined up to be escorted, as scripted, onto the mock courtroom set as soon as the curtain went up. Barb was first in line, followed by Annika, Gun and Tamiko.
All were stark naked, and fettered at ankles and wrists with shiny metal cuffs and chains that reflected brightly under the overhead stage lighting. They were to be escorted on stage and placed in the caged docket by Himari and the other three Asian girls … each wearing, as they had before, their theatrical costumes … consisting of nearly-sheer black kimonos, embroidered with red dragons, and only a dark red g-string underneath.
The overly contrived script also called the all four prisoners to be hooded, and for the hoods to remain in place until each girl had been placed on the docket in a row facing the audience. As each hood was removed, the Judge, played by Kaneko, was to identify the defendant by the name designated for her in the script, and read out the criminal charge for which she was to be tried.
For Barb it was a case of shoplifting in an expensive downtown Tokyo boutique. Annika was accused of possession of an illegal substance, Gun of attempting to ride the Tokyo Metro without paying, and Tamiko of petty theft while working as a cashier in a Tokyo restaurant. Each in turn would plead not guilty, and a stern Kaneko would issue a scathing reprimand before sentencing the defendant to a severe public corporal punishment.
In the case of the first three, it would be forty strokes on the bare buttocks with a no. 4 rattan cane. Tamiko, however, being a Japanese citizen would be whipped instead … for a total of forty lashes … half administered on her back and half on her front.
As the trial scene played out, the girls saw little recourse but to submissively play their appointed roles. For they knew full well that any attempt to protest or disrupt the production would earn them a reprisal in the “correction room” that would assuredly be far worse than the forty strokes or lashes they were to receive on stage. So everyone played their role as rehearsed, and the first scene went exactly as Kaneko had planned.
A short intermission followed the scene’s conclusion while the stage was rotated and the second scene prepared. And again the girls found themselves waiting slightly off stage and taking turns peeking out through a small gap in the curtain at the audience
“Some of them seem to be quite aroused,” commented Barb. “I don’t relish the part in which they’re invited on stage to take part in the caning and whipping. A few of them appear to be rather big and muscular, especially that one Arab.”
“Yes,” sighed Himari, “while you can count on me and the other girls to hold back as much as we think we can get away with, once the audience members are invited on stage, things are sure to get worse for you.”
“Funny though,” remarked the ever observant Anika, “see those two guys seated at the end of the second row, nearest to us? I’d swear they’re made up as though they don’t want to be identified.”
“Nothing funny about that,” observed Barb drily. “I can well imagine that half the audience wouldn’t want to be recognized.”
“No seriously, there’s something peculiar about them. Reminds me of the course I took at the police academy about detecting when someone might be in disguise … it’s the one on the right who caught my attention … I think he’s wearing a dental palette to change the lines of his mouth and cheeks. See how he keeps working it? He’s finding it uncomfortable and trying to adjust it.
“Let someone else see,” urged Gun.
Barb and Annika stepped back to allow Gun and Tamiko a peek.
“You’re right!” agreed Gun, there is something strange about them … and they look oddly familiar somehow too.”
Tamiko let out a gasp as she took her turn to peek out through the curtain and was about to say something, but was cut short by Kaneko appearing abruptly at their side to order them on stage for the next scene.
This time they were made to crawl on all fours as Humari and company led them, hooded and leashed, onto the stage. Each, in turn, was taken to the edge of the stage and presented to the audience, rising upright on their knees and bowing their heads in mock shame as their ‘stage names’, crimes, and sentences were solemnly repeated by Kaneko. Then Barb, Gun, and Annika were led to the caning benches and secured, while Tamiko took her place at the whipping cross.
Strategically placed video cams beamed revealing closeups of the girls’ faces and bodies via two large overhead robitron screens as each was tightly secured in place. Then Himari and company shed their kimonos, selected canes and whips from a display rack, and took their respective places.
“Oh Shit!” groaned Barb as she heard Kaneko give the command to deliver the first strokes and felt the hardness of Humari’s cane as it tapped three times on her ass cheeks in careful preparation.
********************
Saturday, 30 June, 02:35 (20:35 Tokyo time), Elmendorf Air Force Base, Anchorage, Alaska.
“Senator, can I get you another drink while we’re sitting here on the ground refueling,” purred the pretty attendant on Senator Hobart G. Moore’s private jet. He glanced up from the briefing document in his hands to look her over before responding. Her stewardess uniform, designed by the Senator himself, consisted of a pair of high-heeled shoes, a very short dark blue skirt and a white uniform shirt worn open halfway down the front so as to show her pert breasts every time she leaned over to attend to his needs.
“Why, yes my dear. Another scotch on the rocks, please. And freshen up my Assistant’s drink too while you’re at it,” he schmoozed, eyes glued to her chest but still managing a gentle nod toward the attractive young woman seated beside him … his former college intern and now full-time Congressional aide, Sherri Merriweather.
“Yes, of course Senator.”
“Tell me, how much longer ‘till we reach Tokyo?”
“After we finish refueling here, I believe it’s another seven and a half hours. Senator.”
“Three or four in the morning on Sunday then?”
“Yes, that sounds about right, Senator. I can get you a more precise estimate from the Captain if you like?”
“No, not necessary. Such a bother being away from Washington at a time like this.”
“I understand from overhearing earlier that this has something to do with your daughter, Senator. I do hope that whatever it is, that things will turn out alright.”
“Thanks for that, but I’m quite used to this. My daughter, Barbara, has a knack for getting herself in hot water every time I turn around. Quite bothersome really. But never anything I can’t fix. I suspect this will be the same.”
“Well, good luck with whatever it is.”
“Thank you, now freshen those drinks please, and once we are airborne again please pull the curtain and leave Ms Merriweather and me alone for a good hour or so. She and I have some … uh … very urgent Congressional business to go over together.”
“Yes, Senator.”
TBC
Standing just offstage with Barb, Annika, and now Tamiko too, Gun Thorell peered out through a narrow gap in the heavy red velvet stage curtains. It was but a few minutes before the performance was to get underway, and the several curved rows of red-upholsterd seats out on the auditorium floor were nearly all occupied.
The clientele, as one might have suspected, was entirely male, rather mixed in age, although few could be said to be youthful. They seemed well-dressed, presumably men of wealth and substance. Most appeared to be Asians, although there were several who wore the traditional ‘thobe’ of a Saudi prince, as well as a smattering of Westerners.
“This is going to be anything but fun,” observed Barb drily, edging Gun aside enough to take her own peek at the audience. “A real shit-show in the making if there ever was one.”
“Bunch of total perverts out there,” agreed Annika distastefully as she peered over Barb’s shoulder.
“Silence!” hissed Kaneko. “Line up now and get ready, we’re about to go on. Play your parts as rehearsed, and don’t try any funny business!”
Obediently, the four ‘prisoners’ lined up to be escorted, as scripted, onto the mock courtroom set as soon as the curtain went up. Barb was first in line, followed by Annika, Gun and Tamiko.
All were stark naked, and fettered at ankles and wrists with shiny metal cuffs and chains that reflected brightly under the overhead stage lighting. They were to be escorted on stage and placed in the caged docket by Himari and the other three Asian girls … each wearing, as they had before, their theatrical costumes … consisting of nearly-sheer black kimonos, embroidered with red dragons, and only a dark red g-string underneath.
The overly contrived script also called the all four prisoners to be hooded, and for the hoods to remain in place until each girl had been placed on the docket in a row facing the audience. As each hood was removed, the Judge, played by Kaneko, was to identify the defendant by the name designated for her in the script, and read out the criminal charge for which she was to be tried.
For Barb it was a case of shoplifting in an expensive downtown Tokyo boutique. Annika was accused of possession of an illegal substance, Gun of attempting to ride the Tokyo Metro without paying, and Tamiko of petty theft while working as a cashier in a Tokyo restaurant. Each in turn would plead not guilty, and a stern Kaneko would issue a scathing reprimand before sentencing the defendant to a severe public corporal punishment.
In the case of the first three, it would be forty strokes on the bare buttocks with a no. 4 rattan cane. Tamiko, however, being a Japanese citizen would be whipped instead … for a total of forty lashes … half administered on her back and half on her front.
As the trial scene played out, the girls saw little recourse but to submissively play their appointed roles. For they knew full well that any attempt to protest or disrupt the production would earn them a reprisal in the “correction room” that would assuredly be far worse than the forty strokes or lashes they were to receive on stage. So everyone played their role as rehearsed, and the first scene went exactly as Kaneko had planned.
A short intermission followed the scene’s conclusion while the stage was rotated and the second scene prepared. And again the girls found themselves waiting slightly off stage and taking turns peeking out through a small gap in the curtain at the audience
“Some of them seem to be quite aroused,” commented Barb. “I don’t relish the part in which they’re invited on stage to take part in the caning and whipping. A few of them appear to be rather big and muscular, especially that one Arab.”
“Yes,” sighed Himari, “while you can count on me and the other girls to hold back as much as we think we can get away with, once the audience members are invited on stage, things are sure to get worse for you.”
“Funny though,” remarked the ever observant Anika, “see those two guys seated at the end of the second row, nearest to us? I’d swear they’re made up as though they don’t want to be identified.”
“Nothing funny about that,” observed Barb drily. “I can well imagine that half the audience wouldn’t want to be recognized.”
“No seriously, there’s something peculiar about them. Reminds me of the course I took at the police academy about detecting when someone might be in disguise … it’s the one on the right who caught my attention … I think he’s wearing a dental palette to change the lines of his mouth and cheeks. See how he keeps working it? He’s finding it uncomfortable and trying to adjust it.
“Let someone else see,” urged Gun.
Barb and Annika stepped back to allow Gun and Tamiko a peek.
“You’re right!” agreed Gun, there is something strange about them … and they look oddly familiar somehow too.”
Tamiko let out a gasp as she took her turn to peek out through the curtain and was about to say something, but was cut short by Kaneko appearing abruptly at their side to order them on stage for the next scene.
This time they were made to crawl on all fours as Humari and company led them, hooded and leashed, onto the stage. Each, in turn, was taken to the edge of the stage and presented to the audience, rising upright on their knees and bowing their heads in mock shame as their ‘stage names’, crimes, and sentences were solemnly repeated by Kaneko. Then Barb, Gun, and Annika were led to the caning benches and secured, while Tamiko took her place at the whipping cross.
Strategically placed video cams beamed revealing closeups of the girls’ faces and bodies via two large overhead robitron screens as each was tightly secured in place. Then Himari and company shed their kimonos, selected canes and whips from a display rack, and took their respective places.
“Oh Shit!” groaned Barb as she heard Kaneko give the command to deliver the first strokes and felt the hardness of Humari’s cane as it tapped three times on her ass cheeks in careful preparation.
********************
Saturday, 30 June, 02:35 (20:35 Tokyo time), Elmendorf Air Force Base, Anchorage, Alaska.
“Senator, can I get you another drink while we’re sitting here on the ground refueling,” purred the pretty attendant on Senator Hobart G. Moore’s private jet. He glanced up from the briefing document in his hands to look her over before responding. Her stewardess uniform, designed by the Senator himself, consisted of a pair of high-heeled shoes, a very short dark blue skirt and a white uniform shirt worn open halfway down the front so as to show her pert breasts every time she leaned over to attend to his needs.
“Why, yes my dear. Another scotch on the rocks, please. And freshen up my Assistant’s drink too while you’re at it,” he schmoozed, eyes glued to her chest but still managing a gentle nod toward the attractive young woman seated beside him … his former college intern and now full-time Congressional aide, Sherri Merriweather.
“Yes, of course Senator.”
“Tell me, how much longer ‘till we reach Tokyo?”
“After we finish refueling here, I believe it’s another seven and a half hours. Senator.”
“Three or four in the morning on Sunday then?”
“Yes, that sounds about right, Senator. I can get you a more precise estimate from the Captain if you like?”
“No, not necessary. Such a bother being away from Washington at a time like this.”
“I understand from overhearing earlier that this has something to do with your daughter, Senator. I do hope that whatever it is, that things will turn out alright.”
“Thanks for that, but I’m quite used to this. My daughter, Barbara, has a knack for getting herself in hot water every time I turn around. Quite bothersome really. But never anything I can’t fix. I suspect this will be the same.”
“Well, good luck with whatever it is.”
“Thank you, now freshen those drinks please, and once we are airborne again please pull the curtain and leave Ms Merriweather and me alone for a good hour or so. She and I have some … uh … very urgent Congressional business to go over together.”
“Yes, Senator.”
TBC
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Disdaining the audience is a bad start for any stage career!
Someone ressembling Seinfeld in the audience?
Me know, Senator! Old habits die hard!
Particularly when he is backed by Sherri Merrywater?
Good! Planning the strategy is half the victory
windar
Teller of Tales
They teach that? Really?
That's what happens when you have emergency dental work while in a foreign country.
And some people think their Congressional representative don't work hard...Moore is on duty 24/7!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
As all the best Stage Performers should be. Andrew Lloyd Webber ... take note!
Damn ... that is so wonderfully, deliciously harsh ...
A proper politician is Senator Moore ...
Barb and Tamiko about to be hooded and leashed ...
Loving this show Barb, excellent narrative as ever ...