Chapter 13

Episode two? The title rolled. “Bringing Fumiko Onto The Team.”

It started out the same way, and I watched Fumiko walking towards me on the LCD. She really was beautiful. Beautiful and innocent, an innocent angel, and she’d never be so sweetly innocent again, not the way she’d been three days ago. Never again.

Johan laughed. “We hired the dudes making this from the porn industry, job on the side for them. They’re doing a good job putting all this together on the fly. They worked all yesterday and last night so we could get these first episodes up and online this morning, and I know you’re gonna love this bit, Mal. Always gives me a woody when they take the hook. Somebody really should give these little bitches safety classes or something.”

He knew that was one of the things I used to do. Give talks at those suburban high schools, the ones in the suburbs with the rows and rows of McMansions, like my parents. The sort of high school I’d gone to, and I knew those kids. Privileged. Spoiled. They’d never seen the harsh side of life. Maybe they thought they knew something, maybe they thought they were street smart, like I had, but like me back then, they knew fuck all.

Those talks I gave? I tried to tell them. Tried to warn them. Probably about ten girls in a hundred listened. Maybe I was being optimistic about the ten, though, and maybe one of those ten absorbed what I used to try and tell them. Privileged and spoiled teenage girls. Comfortable lifestyle. Always had what they needed. They never thought anything like this would ever happen to them. They swallowed all that bullshit about empowerment, and girls can do anything, and no means no, and all the action movie crap where some hundred ten pound girl kicks the shit out of some two hundred pound guy.

Fucking bullshit.

Not only that, those guys don’t give a flying fuck if a girl says no. Just gives them a bit of an extra buzz.

When some hundred ten pound girl like Fumiko Suematsu gets into the hands of some six foot two hundred pound hyena like Johan, there’s absolutely fuck all she can do unless she has a gun and knows how to use it, apart from running as fast as she can, and screaming her head off, and hoping some big guy hears her before she’s caught, duct-taped up and tossed in a trunk for delivery. Fumiko Suematsu sure wouldn’t have had a gun, and she hadn’t run or screamed her head off.

I could guarantee that, because she was where she was.

That’d been a crowded park.

If she’d run, if she’d even screamed, she’d likely be home with her parents now, not in that bedroom being fucked day and night for the last three days by more men than she’d be able to remember, and again today, and this evening, and all the rest of the week, week after week, until I came to take her home. All the empowerment and “women can do anything” bullshit in the world wasn’t going to get her out of Johan’s hands now, and yeah, I wanted to put some lead through Johan right there and then, but that wasn’t gonna solve a thing, except maybe for Fumiko Suematsu.

It’s just business, I told myself all over again. Just fucking business.

“How’d you spot her to start with?” I asked.

He snickered. “Come on Mal, keep watching the movie. Some of this is actual footage. Cams in the limo, good ones too. You’re gonna love watching this.”

I didn’t think so, but I was gonna watch anyway. Might learn something useful.

An inside shot of Johan in a limo, at least I guessed it was Johan from the profile, his face was pixelated out. The limo was cruising slowly past a school. I recognized it from Fumiko’s social media and from that morning visit where I learned fuck all except that the admin stuff were naïve fuckin’ idiots. Well, and from sitting there with Akiko eating sushi, and thinking about eating Akiko.

“Her school? Really?”

“Yeah, got a few cameras in the limo. Never know what’s worth recording. A lot of this is as it happened. Cam stuff, but they’re good cams. Edited afterwards of course.”

On the LCD, Johan leans forward. You really can’t make out his face, it’s heavily pixelated, but you can see the back of the driver’s head. It’s Lavonne and the back of his head isn’t pixelated. I recognize that tiny scar just above his collar, but I’m not going to mention that to Johan. His problem. Or maybe Lavonne’s.

“Drive slowly, pull over, watch them.” Johan’s voice.

The limo slows, stops. The camera shows an Asian girl. It’s Fumiko. She’s wandering around by herself, picking petals of some big white fuckin’ flower she’s holding, and some of it’s that footage that was played earlier, at the start of that first clip as the title rolled and that voiceover played. Her skirt’s short, she looks like she’s right out of a Japanese schoolgirl porn movie, and her legs are gorgeous.

Legs that make me want to spread them wide and taste her.

Legs that’d have any of Johan’s clients wanting to spread them wide and fuck her.

Johan chuckled. “This is actual footage too. You always gotta keep your eye open for fresh talent in this job, and high schools and malls and entertainment complexes, they’re prime territory. Just driving by, and we saw all those Jap girls in the park there when we stopped at the lights, and we just sat there getting an eyeful of all those tight little asses. The johns all love those little plaid skirts, just like in all those Jap porno movies they jerk off watching. Me, I love watching ‘em even if we’re not doing anything with ‘em. Look at those legs.”

On the LCD, Lavonne’s voice. “There’s a hot one by herself over there walking towards us. Whaddaya think?”

Johan. “Look at those legs, gorgeous. Cute tits, hair, look at that face. Bet she’s got a tight little ass on her too. That little honey’s a walking talking cash register.”

Lavonne. “Want to try for her?”

Johan. “You got those other plates on?”

Lavonne. “Of course.”

Johan. “Keep an eye on her and let’s see. No risks though, this is real public, lotta witnesses around. It’s gotta be quiet and low key. You know the story. One scream, she does a runner, we ditch the whole thing and we leave right away, slow and easy.”

Lavonne. “Yeah, I know the story, boss!” He chuckles. “Not like we haven’t done this before, is it?”

I wonder how many times they have done this before. Way too many, probably.

On the LCD, Fumiko walks slowly across the park towards the car. Lavonne edges the limo forward a little, keeping parallel to her until she’s almost beside the rear passenger window. Feet away, on the sidewalk. She sits down on a park bench, facing the street. Facing them across the sidewalk, raising that large white flower to her face, inhaling, smelling it.

Johan opens the window, leans forward a little.

Johan. “Excuse me, Miss. Your father asked me to pick you up, there’s some immigration papers we need to collect and have signed. We need to get them to the lawyers today, it’s a rush, unfortunately, or he’d have picked you up himself. He called your school to let them know.”

“Excuse me, Miss. Your father asked me to pick you up?” I mimic him, drily, watching the movie. The fucker had filmed the snatch. Unfucking believable. “Isn’t that a bit of a cliché, Johan?”

Johan snickered as I watched Fumiko look up, look towards the car. Directly into the hidden camera.

“No shit, Mal.”

I hit pause. I knew he was gonna explain something.

He didn’t let me down. “You’d be surprised how many girls fall for any sort of halfway believable line, or something like it. You just need to sound plausible. They’re still real naïve at that age, a lot of them, you get a lot that’re suspicious, but there’s still a good many that aren’t, and just look at her, Mal, take a good long look at her. She’s gorgeous. That’s the sort of girl my clients pay the big bucks for. A bit on the old side, but look at that face, that figure. Look at those perfect little tits. She was worth the risk, believe me.”

“I do,” I said.

“Hey, I know which way you swing, Mal. You’d do her in a second yourself.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” I said dryly. “But yeah, I see what you’re saying, but I wouldn’t pick her up the way you guys did.”

That face was the face of an Asian angel, perfect skin, heart shaped, lovely almond-shaped eyes, perfect little nose, pouting lips that looked into the camera and just begged to be kissed. Those kind of lips. Sort of almost the way I’d looked when I was her age, except I’d always kept my hair shoulder length, in a page boy cut. Fumiko had silky black hair that fell halfway to her waist.

Johan was right. She was beautiful, and I’d do her in a second if I had the chance, and if she was anywhere else but here. I’d do my best to pick her up if I met her in one of the clubs I hung out in, but I didn’t think I’d ever find a girl like Fumiko in one of those clubs. I didn’t think I’d ever find a girl like Fumiko to fuck.

Except that I’d found Akiko, and I sure as fuck wanted to fuck Akiko.

Those background noises I’d heard coming through the bedroom door that morning I’d paid the deposit reminded me that under the right circumstances, girls like Fumiko did fuck. Fumiko was more than likely busy fucking right now too. She’d have been busy fucking all day.

She wouldn’t be getting any choice about it either. Not like Akiko was gonna get.

I skipped back a little, watching again. On the LCD, Fumiko walks slowly across the park towards the car, her focus on that flower she’s holding. Lavonne edges the limo forward a little, keeping parallel to her until she sits on that park bench. He stops when she’s almost beside the rear passenger window. Johan opens the window, leans forward a little.

“Excuse me Miss, your father asked me to pick you up, there’s some papers we need to collect and have signed for your immigration status. We need to get them to Immigration today, it’s a rush, unfortunately, or he’d have picked you up himself. He called your school to let them know.”

She looks up, directly into the camera, and there’s an innocence to her expression as she looks at Johan and replies, her voice soft and sweet and musical. The voice of an angel.

“My father? Yes, sir. How did you know who I was?” Her English is good. She’s very polite. Very deferential. A good well-brought up Japanese girl, without a hint of any suspicion that Johan may not be what he says he is.

“Your father sent us a photo of you.” Johan smiles.

He opens the limo door. He climbs out, he holds the door open for Fumiko, casually glancing around. No-one’s close by. No-one’s even looking their way. They’re in public, there must be a hundred people nearby, but nobody even glances towards them. They might as well be invisible. He doesn’t do anything besides open the door and hold it open for her. Fumiko stands up, discards the flower on to the grass, walks across the sidewalk to the car, and climbs inside without any hesitation, trusting, innocent, guileless.

She doesn’t suspect a thing, and that’s obvious from the complete lack of any hesitation whatsoever. There’s none. She walks over. She climbs in. She slides to the center of the back seat as if it’s something she does every day. There’s absolutely nothing suspicious at all. Nobody watching would notice anything at all out of the ordinary.

Johan climbs in after her, not rushing, not hurrying at all. He sits beside her, he shuts the door. There’s a “snick” as Lavonne locks all the doors. Fumiko doesn’t know it, but everyone who watches this movie will know. The moment that lock snicks, there’s no escape for her, not once she’s locked in behind those tinted windows. She’s vanished from sight, she’s vanished from hearing. She’s vanished from her world, and she’s in Johan’s world now. Her fate is sealed. What’s going to happen to her now is as inevitable as day progressing to night is inevitable, and I knew. Everyone watching will know, and I knew I shouldn’t be excited, but I was.

My sex pulsed slowly, hotly, and I knew I was wet. I knew this was sick. I knew this was wrong. I knew what I wanted, and my nipples ached, because what I wanted was probably what every single one of Johan’s clients would want when they watched this movie.

We’d all want to take Fumiko Suematsu.

I didn’t want to, but I did.

I really did.

Johan chuckled. “I got a woody for her as soon as she climbed in the car, Mal. That was a perfect pickup. Nothing to make anybody even think twice. She climbed into the car herself, quiet as a mouse, just like she knew us. Absolutely nothing suspicious. Done in seconds. It doesn’t get more perfect than that.”

“Yeah, that was perfect,” I said, swallowing.

It had been. If I’d been walking by myself, and I hadn’t known Johan, I wouldn’t have looked twice. There’d have been nothing suspicious about that. Nothing at all. Just a schoolgirl climbing into a limo that’d been sent to pick her up from the park, the door held open for her the way it always was when you came from that sort of family. You saw that around here all the time.

Johan snickered. “I just about shot my load when she climbed in the car like that, Mal. Surprised me that she did, to be honest, but it just proves, you have to make the attempt if you want to score.”

In the movie, Johan speaks. “Hello, I’m Johan. Your father didn’t tell me your first name?”

“Fumiko, sir. Fumiko Suematsu.”

Johan sounds like someone else entirely. Friendly, avuncular, it’s the sort of voice that a girl can implicitly trust. “That’s a lovely name. How old are you, Fumiko? Which grade are you in?”

Fumiko. “I’m fourteen.” She smiles at Johan. A shy smile. A sweet smile. An innocent smile. “My family just moved here from Japan a few weeks ago.”

In the LCD, Johan says: “Do you miss Japan? It’s such a beautiful county.”

The perfect pickup. Unobtrusive, no fuss, done in seconds and away, and now that limo is just another anonymous black car in the city traffic, turning away from the school, but Fumiko doesn’t even notice, she’s not looking out the windows. She’s been told she’s going to meet her father and she accepts that. She’s talking to Johan, her attention is on him and I can see she’s concentrating on her English, not on what’s happening outside the car.

Behind those tinted windows, it’d make no difference now if she screamed, if she struggled, if she attempted to escape. The windows and doors are locked, and no-one would see. No-one would hear. No-one would notice. Johan could take her now, on the backseat, and no-one other than Lavonne would be aware of what was happening. Fumiko Suematsu has no idea.

There’s no escape.

Not for Fumiko Suematsu.

She has no idea why she’s in this car.

Fumiko sighs a melancholy sigh. “It’s so different here...”