Chantelle hated Tokyo.

The meeting that she’d planned for so long was a
complete bust. There was supposed to be equality in
Japan but no-one had gotten round to telling the
Japanese that. There were glass ceilings everywhere.
She’d seen perfectly competent women being forced to
serve Tea to complete idiots just because they happened
to be male.

It had made her bridle which hadn’t helped when her
hosts noticed it.

The meeting went cordially enough, there were lots of
smiles and bowing, but her intuition told her that it
was a blow out.

So sorry, there are areas that need clarifying, the
senior manager; who so sorry, was as not available, must
make the decision. We must have time to study your
proposal. So sorry.

And now she had to fly back to the States with the
bitter taste of defeat in her mouth. It was not
something she was used to.

Her career had been meteoric to say the least. Branch
manager at 24, executive VP at 26. She’d cut a swathe
through the company a mile wide.

She wasn’t averse to using her stunning goods looks and
naturally blond/white hair to get her where she wanted
to go. And her business suits were cut just a little
tight to show off her curves. But not so tight as to
occasion comments, after all this was a very
conservative business.

She thought that she’d have the Nips eating out of her
hand. One toss of her mane and she’d have them where she
wanted them. Then she’d cut to the chase with the
dazzling presentation that she’d worked so assiduously
on.

But she’d not reckoned with Japanese corporate man,
where decisions were made by committee and more
importantly in the clubs in the Ginza district where
Gaijin women were supposed to be hostesses not equals.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, “and fuck them.”

*

Narita airport was a modern building with a curious
blend of shops selling out and out tourist tat and high
priced western luxury goods. With Sony having an
apparent stranglehold on the electronic goods. She
wasn’t much into boy’s toys and so she found herself
with 3 hours to kill and on the wrong side of passport
control.

And there wasn’t a luggage trolley in sight.

All in all she wasn’t in the best frame of mind. And so
when a hapless male cleaner blocked her way to the
ladies restroom she couldn’t restrain her impatience.

“Get out of my way,” she snapped.

He turned to her, a puzzled smile on his face.

She put up her hand and pushed him aside. He stumbled
backwards and fell over a pile of boxes that were
stacked outside the duty free shop next to the
bathrooms. He went down in a clatter of flailing limbs
while she swept imperiously on.

*

She’d just finished and was repairing her makeup when
she saw the cleaner standing behind her.

“This is the ladies room, get out,” she snapped.

He didn’t move, just eyed her coldly. Then she noticed
that two other Japanese men, also in uniform, had joined
him, other than them she was alone. She went to push
past him but he caught her arm.

She tried to jerk it free but he held on grimly and his
eyes reflected pure hatred as he spat invective at her.
Her Japanese was not up to much but she did realize that
she’d caused him to lose face. And if there was one
thing that she did know about Japanese men and that was
that they hated losing face more than anything else.

She softened her face and forced a smile, “Listen I’m
sorry, okay?”

Again a torrent of Japanese.

“Oh fuck it, I’ve said sorry now get your hands off of
me.” She again tried to prize his fingers off of her
arm.

But he wasn’t having any of it and he again launched at
her with a barrage of Japanese while he held her arm
tightly. This was getting stupid so she swung a
roundhouse at him but he was ready for it and he blocked
her swinging arm and jabbed her hard under the ribs. All
her breath whooshed out of her and she folded like a
jackknife.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her upright then kicked
her hard between her legs. She was wearing a tailored
trouser suit and so there was no impediment to the
devastating power as his steel toe-capped boot smashed
into her crotch.

She almost retched at the flaming agony.

Now she was scared. Really scared. She tried to struggle
free as he formed his fingers into a blade and jammed it
into her throat.

She struggled to breath as the other men shouted
encouragement, the only word she could make out
distinctly sounded like “Or-ra.”

Then his hand connected with the side of her head and
her world went black.

*

She came to shaking her head groggily.

She felt like shit and had a momentary panic as she
looked wildly around for the men, but they’d gone.

She hauled herself to her feet using the edge of the
washbasin for support.

She appraised herself in the mirror, she didn’t look
damaged except for a small bruise on her throat, but she
felt like she’d been hit by a Mack truck, which had then
reversed over her to finish the job.

Her body ached in places she never knew she had, the
worst pain area appeared to be her throat, which
throbbed painfully.

She splashed water on her face and then looked at her
watch. She’d been out for over 2 hours and her flight
was due to leave in less than 45 minutes. She picked up
her purse from the floor and quickly scanned the
contents.

‘The bastards’, she thought when she noticed her cash
was gone. They’d beaten her up then robbed her. Trying
to do a quick mental calculation she reckoned she’d lost
about $250.

She weighed up in her mind whether to report it and
possibly miss her flight; the thought of another night
in this shit-hole didn’t exactly fill her with glee. On
the other hand could she just let that fucker and his
buddies get away with beating her then stealing her
cash?

In the end she decided that she’d just go and never come
back. It was too much hassle for $250. She hoped they
rotted in hell though.

She repaired her makeup, unlocked the door to the ladies
room and just made it onto her flight.

*

She was young and healthy and the bruises soon faded.

She missed her period but that was not unusual. She
usually put it down to the stress of her job.

When she missed a second time she started to get
concerned. Maybe that bastard Jap had done her some
damage with that kick. She debated whether to see her
obstetrician but she never seemed to have the time.

She appeared to come on after her third month. It was a
thin dribble but she felt relieved and she pushed it to
the back of her mind.

It was two months later that the package arrived.

Inside was a video tape, the sort you’d find in a
digital movie camera. It was postmarked Japan and had no
accompanying note. She threw it into her bag and forgot
about it until the weekend. She found it again and
borrowed an adaptor from the IT nerd at work.

She played it that night.

*

“Is she unconscious?”

He reached down and shook her, she murmured but didn’t
waken.

“Yes.”

“Ok let’s do it we haven’t much time.”

They all rocked back on their heels as they squatted
around her. The enormity of what they’d done and were
about to do seemed to paralyze them into indecision.

Then the first man spoke.

“Did you borrow that video camera from your girlfriend
at the shop?”

The youngest man brandished it, “yes but she was
suspicious.”

“Don’t worry it will not be for long. Here help me.”

They hauled her around as they stripped her trousers and
panties off leaving her naked from the waist down.

“So she is a natural blond,” said the first man licking
his lips.

He pushed her legs apart and insinuated himself between
them. Her pussy was dry and he kept spitting into the
palm of his hand and rubbing it along his penis to give
him enough lubrication to stop it being unpleasant for
him.

Once he was satisfied he pushed up against her crack and
thrust inside.

It was over quickly and the others quickly took his
place adding their loads to his, deep inside her.

Then they sat around looking at her for a few minutes as
their sperm trickled out of her, slowly meandering down
the crack of her ass as the video whirred.

“We must clean her up and leave,” said the leader and
the next few minutes were a blur of frantic activity as
they cleaned her crotch and replaced her clothes,
faithfully recording it on their camera. They even held
an ice cold soft drink can against her pussy to make
sure her muscles tightened up so it didn’t betray what
they’d done to her and to take away some of the
swelling.

They left her on the floor as they slipped the latch on
the ladies room and put the ‘closed for cleaning’ sign
in place.

They watched the tape and laughed about it for weeks and
when they thought that there was no possibility of any
repercussions they sent a copy of the tape to the
address on the business card they’d got from her purse.

*

The video fizzed as she stared at the screen
sightlessly, her mind a whirl.
Now she understood. The bastards had raped her, one
after the other, and what was worse she now knew with a
blinding clarity that she was pregnant.

Her body had been trying to tell her for weeks but she’d
ignored the signs. After all it couldn’t be, she hadn’t
slept with a man in ages. But now she knew she had….

Then the tears started.

It was far too late for an abortion and she knew it.

*

It was a difficult and painful labor made worse when the
doctor had sat at her bedside and informed her that the
birth had damaged her so much it was unlikely she’d ever
have any more children.

But her baby daughter was beautiful.