Chapter 14: Fumiko’s First Lesson

Fumiko’s First Lesson?

Didn’t want to watch. I already knew what’d happened to her. Yeah, and I’d heard what’d happened to her yesterday evening when I’d called Johan. Pretty much knew what’d happened to her between when she’d been picked up and when I’d called. Sorta thing that happened to mosta the girls that were new to the business. I was gonna say new hires, but you could hardly call them hires. They weren’t paid to start with. Fumiko Suematsu was never gonna be paid. Most of them never were. Sex slaves, that’s what they were, and she was open for business now.

What’d happened to her? Same thing that happened to all the merchandise. She’d been gang-banged. Raped. Every orifice she possessed had been used. Thoroughly used, coz that’s how they trained new girls. Oral. Vaginal. Anal. She’d been broken in, tamed, and trained and then she’d been opened for business. Put to work. I’d seen her at work this morning, working the way a new girl worked. Hard. That was hours ago now, and that’d already been her third john for the day. She’d probably been raped by at least a couple more clients by now.

Rape? I’d seen her climaxing this morning. I’d heard her. I’d seen her face. Her body was enjoying what was happening. At least, it had been in those glimpses I’d caught of her. You’re gonna ask if it’s rape if she’s enjoying it, aren’t ya? Well, fuck you, asshole. Fumiko Suematsu was fourteen. That’s statutory rape pretty much anywhere in the USA. Doesn’t matter if she enjoys it. Doesn’t matter if she climaxes. It’s rape, and pretty it up any way you like, I’m not going to, but that was what it was. Rape. She was fourteen for fucks sake, she’d been drugged to the eyeballs with whatever that fucking concoction of Johan’s was. She probably still was, and she might have been horny as all fuck, but there wasn’t any fuckin’ consent involved.

Poor little bitch. I didn’t want to watch, except ... except ... except fuck it, she was hot, ‘n fourteen or not, I’d do her myself in a second if she was in my bed, ‘n fuck, I didn’t want to see it, but I couldn’t resist hitting play on that next episode. Episode Three. The title rolled. My heart raced. Thumped. Pounded, coz I was pretty much sure I knew what I was gonna see. God, this was sick. Why was I doing this? Why was I watching ... Fumiko’s First Lesson? Why? Back when I’d worked for Greg, I watched clips like this. Home made. But then it’d been looking for clues, looking for anything useful as evidence or to track one of those girls down or identify a perp.

This wasn’t for any of those reasons.

This was because Fumiko was ... hot, and I didn’t want to think that was the reason why. That’d put me at the level of Johan’s clients, and I wasn’t ... I wasn’t.

But I was watching, ‘n I knew what I wanted, ‘n I knew. Fuck, I knew.

The first shot in that clip opens in that same bedroom, panning slowly around, taking in the room. It’s a rather beautifully decorated room, definitely Asian influenced. Didn’t think that’d be Johan, but Johan was full of surprises. Maybe it had been. Polished wood floors, dark honey, overlaid with thick Chinese-styled rugs. Walls that looked like those paneled Japanese walls, some rather tasteful Asian art on the walls. Japanese? Chinese? I had no idea. A large bed with vaguely Chinese head and footboards, dark rosewood, slatted.

Makes sense if you need to tie a girl down I guess.

A fitted black sheet covered the bed. A couple of pillows with matching black pillowcases. No top sheet. No duvet. Which made sense. That bed wasn’t for sleeping on. Nightstands either side of the bed, a dresser, all in that same Asian style. It’s not Chinese, I can tell that. Japanese or Korean? Or maybe just American with an Asian design influence? There’s a lot of that. My own apartment was like that. A large wooden coffee table, kinda Asian looking too. A padded black leather ottoman at the foot of the bed, a couple of large comfortable looking black leather chairs, and yeah, those large floor to ceiling windows.

The washroom door opens. Fumiko walks out.

“Thank you, Mr. Johan-san,” she says politely. “Do you have your papers? Are we going back to meet my father and the lawyer now?” She glances at her delicate little watch. A girl’s watch. Diamonds? Looks expensive anyhow. Her expression is unconcerned. Not a worry in the world. I can see at a glance she’s been pampered. Maybe she studies hard, I’m sure she does, but she comes from that same background I did, except she wasn’t a rebel.

She was Japanese.

Deferential to adults. Polite. Obedient. Trusting. Japanese.

Japan, where five year old’s go to school and travel home again on foot, buses and trains, by themselves. Japan, where five year old’s can do that and their parents don’t have a worry in the world because Japan’s a high trust society. Japan, where teenage girls can wander the streets at midnight, by themselves, and the only thing they have to worry about are drunken salary-men on the trains molesting them.

Obviously nobody had told Fumiko Suematsu that the USA was not a high trust society. Fuck no, and here, in this urban jungle, it wasn’t even low-trust. It was no fucking trust. None at all, and the fawn had strayed from the herd, she’d been cut out, isolated, and now she was at the mercy of a predator. A predator who had no fuckin’ mercy at all. A fuckin’ human hyena.

Johan looks around towards her. He’s smiling that avuncular smile again. Nice Uncle Johan. “Well, Fumiko, there’s no rush,” he says, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it over the back of one of the chairs. “I wanted to ask you about your school. Would you like a drink? You must be thirsty?”

He’s pouring her a glass of ... something over ice. Looks like Sprite, but knowing Johan, it’s probably Sprite, vodka and maybe a roofie, or some kind of mild sedative to relax her and make her more amenable to whatever he has in mind, and anyone watching this movie will know what Johan has in mind. After all, she’s advertised on his website. Her rates are there for Johan’s clients to see. She’s not cheap, but all that means is, when you pay Johan’s price, you get exactly what you pay for, and what you’re paying for is sex with Fumiko Suematsu.

Any want you want it.

A lot’s happened between now and when this was filmed, and I want to see it. It’s like an addiction. It’s sick. I dread watching. It’s horrible. It’s thrilling. I can’t stop watching. I don’t want to stop watching...

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Johan-san,” Fumiko says, taking the glass from him, and drinking thirstily.

She’s been offered a drink by an adult and she knows it wouldn’t be polite to refuse. Besides, she’s thirsty. Nobody’s ever taught her not to accept drinks from strangers, although under the circumstances and given what’s about to happen to her, it’s not a bad idea. It’ll make it easier for her. A lot easier. Girls this age? A lot of the pimps use roofies on them, although it turns them into zombies. It’s a trade off.

Mind you, there’s a few that don’t. They sell the whole first time experience. Soundproofed rooms, the screams, the struggles, the genuine rape experience but without the risk of the cops investigating, taking semen samples, DNA analysis. Nope, these rapes are never gonna get reported. There’s never gonna be any evidence. Those johns that pay for the thrill can enjoy themselves without any repercussions. They can have those girls any way they pay to use them, and they do, they use them. They abuse them.

It’s more traumatic for the girls than being slipped a roofie, way more traumatic, but the end result is the same and the johns that enjoy that sorta thing pay through the nose for it. A few of the guys I deal with are in that niche. I’d shoot the fuckers as soon as deal with them, but ... I’m paid to get the girls back, not to ensure justice. The fuckers terminated me for that, so fuck it. Anyhow. Johan’s not into that shit. Relatively speaking, he’s a good guy, but fuck, it doesn’t matter one way or the other. For me, like for the pimps, it’s just business as usual.

Give it a couple of weeks and it’s business as usual for the girls to. They get used to it. I know that sounds fucked up, and it is, but when you’re being fucked by a dozen guys a day, any way they want, day after day, week after week, you get used to it. Well, maybe not you, but they do. The girls do, and it’s all relative in this business, coz once you’ve seen the worse, you kinda understand that while it might suck for Fumiko Suematsu, it could suck a whole fuck-ton worse.

Believe me, it could. I’d seen worse. Fumiko Suematsu had no idea, but I knew and yeah, what was gonna happen to her was bad, but there was bad and there was bad. On a badness scale of one to ten, this was about a one.

“My school?” She says politely. She’s been thinking about his question. “In Japan I was in my last year at Chūgakkō. That is Junior High in English, and I would start kōtōgakkō next year.”

“Kōtōgakkō?” Johan asks.

“Senior High School, Mr Johan-san,” Fumiko says. “This is for ages fifteen to seventeen.” She smiles. “I am fourteen, Mr. Johan-san, but here, the school I go to is for all Grades, from the little ones up to Grade Twelve. It is different, but I enjoy it.” She sips more of her drink. Swallows. Sips again.

“Can I ask you about your school lessons? Do they teach you any biology at your school?” Johan smiles.

Jesus, what a fucking actor. He’s got a woodie though. I can see the bulge. I’m looking for it though. Fumiko Suematsu isn’t. Not that it’d make any difference. He’s not small, and my sex kinda does a hot little dance. Jesus, Mallory!

“Yes, of course, Mr. Johan-san,” she says, sipping more of that drink. “This drink is very nice, Mr. Johan-san. Can I have some more?” Just like that, she’s finished the glass. Must be thirsty.

Johan smiles as he mixes a refill for her, and this time the clip shows that small mini-bar sized bottle of vodka as he empties it into the glass. It doesn’t show if he adds anything else, but it looks like he does. I just can’t see what from the movie. Fumiko smiles happily as she takes the glass from him and drinks again, thirstily, half the glass before she stops.

“Oh, can I look out your window? You can see the bay from here. It’s so beautiful.”

“Of course you can.” He waits until she’s standing in front of the window looking out, that second drink already almost finished, before he speaks again.

“Do you enjoy your classes at your school, Fumiko?”

“Oh yes. It is a very good school, but it is also very different from Japan.” She giggles. “Can I have another drink please, Mr. Johan-san? It is a nice drink.”

“Of course you can, Fumiko-chan.” He takes her glass and refills it, adds an ice cube This time there’s a glimpse. He’s adding some kind of powder that dissolves quickly as he uses a stir stick to mix it in. The drink’s cloudy for a second and then clears. He hands her the glass. She takes it from him and drinks again, still looking out the window.

“Oh, do you have a swimming pool? I can see one down there. Is that yours?”

“Yes, there is. It’s nice isn’t it? Do you like swimming?”

“Yes, Mr. Johan-san, but I have not been swimming since we arrived in America. In Japan, I was in our junior high school swim club. I miss swimming.” She giggles again, and that giggle is not entirely natural now. Something’s really kicking in. “I would like to go swimming. Do those girls go swimming?”

Johan chuckles. “The girls you saw? Sometimes. Would you like to go swimming with them? I can call your father and tell him we’ll come later. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“I do not have a swimsuit.” Her voice is hesitant. She doesn’t say no. Guess whatever Johan gave her really is kicking in and those critical thought processes aren’t quite so critical now.

“That’s okay, Fumiko-chan. I’m sure one of the girls has a swimsuit that would fit you. Let me call your father and ask?” He takes her empty glass from her and refills it. Her face is pink and she’s swaying a little as she takes it from him and sips. Whatever else it is, it must taste good. She’s lapping at it like a kitten with a bowl of cream. He watches her as he takes his phone out, murmurs into it. Has he really called someone or is he just faking it?

“Your father says you can stay and go swimming, Fumiko-chan. He’ll call the school and let them know you will be missing class this afternoon because you’re swimming. I’ll ask one of the girls to find a swimsuit for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Johan-san.” She shakes her head as if she’s a little fuzzy. Yep, whatever it is, it’s kicked right in. She giggles. “I like wearing swimsuits. The boys all look at me. I like boys looking at me. One of my teachers in Japan used to look at me all the time. He asked me if he could take photos of me after school.”

I can see Johan’s face, ‘n I know he just had the exact same thought I just did. What the fuck? That came outta left field.

Fumiko giggles again. That giggle. She’s half-smashed out of her mind on whatever it was she’s been drinking. “I did not tell Otou-chan or Okaachan that he took photos of me.”

“He took photos of you, Fumiko-chan?” Johan’s a bit stunned, ‘n I can’t help it. I laugh. I mean, fuck, it is funny.

Fumiko giggles again, ‘n the little bitch glances demurely at Johan. Fuck me. Is she flirting with him? She’s gotta be smashed out of her mind. “Yes, Mr. Johan-san. Hiroyuki-san took photos of junia aidoru for magazines, he showed me. He wanted to take photos of me in bikinis and sell them. Look. I even have books of me. Lots of men buy them.”

She giggles again. “Of course Otou-chan and Okaachan do not know. Would you like to see them? Some of them are on websites too.”

“I’d love to see them, Fumiko-chan. Can you show me now?”

“Yes, Mr. Johan-san. Do you have a phone?” She takes his mobile when he hands it to her and types rapidly. “Look, there I am.”

Johan looks. “You’re ... very attractive, Fumiko-chan.”

The movie switches to website images. It’s Fumiko alright. There’s images. Fumiko in a school uniform. Fumiko undressing. Fumiko in lingerie. Pink. White, Black. Lacey. Brief. Very brief. Fucking minimal. I blink. Some of those panties are really tiny. Her boobs are ... well ... they aren’t exactly large, and she’s a little more developed now. Fumiko on a bed. Posing. She poses really well. In a bathtub. Outside in a bikini. Different bikinis. Quite a few of them are far more string than bikini. Junior Idol, that’s what it says in English.

“How many photo shoots did you do, Fumiko-chan?”

She giggles. “Lots, and he paid me every time. I have a dozen books. Do you like them, Mr. Johan-san?”

“I love them, Fumiko-chan. I can see why boys like looking at you.”

She giggles. “Japanese men like looking at them too. Do men in America like junia aidoru? Hiroyuki-san was so disappointed when I had to come here to America.” She looks a little sad. “I was sad too. I liked him taking photos of me. It was exciting. He wanted to do things to me, too.”

“What sort of things?”

“Those things that men do with women. Sex things.” She’s not embarrassed at all. The words are flowing almost as if she’s lost her inhibitions and is putting whatever thoughts cross her mind into words. “Of course I am too young, but he still wanted to. He wanted to kiss me too.”

She giggles again. “Of course I did not let him.”

“But you let him take photos of you?”

“Yes, of course. He paid me and lots of girls model. I liked modeling for him.” She eyes Johan and giggles again. Is it a nervous giggle? I’m not sure, but it’s so cute. She’s so unselfconscious, so relaxed, but that’s probably whatever drugs Johan slipped into that drink kicking in. The words emerge almost inconsequentially, as if she’s been looking for an opportunity to ask.

“I don’t know why men and women want to do things like that.”

“Do what?”

Fumiko blushes. “That thing that men do with women when they’re married. Sex. Hiroyuki-san wanted to do sex with me, but of course it was not possible. I am too young to marry.”

She’s looking out the window again, down at the pool, and she glances around at Johan, over her shoulder, her cheeks a little pink. “Otou-chan and Okaachan say I talk far too much and ask too many questions, Mr. Johan-san. I hope I am not being impolite.”

Johan laughs. “That’s quite okay, Fumiko. Please, think of me as one of your teachers.”

Fumiko giggles again. She’s very relaxed. I wonder what else Johan laced that drink with besides vodka? “Yes, Mr. Johan-san. I think you are a very good teacher. That drink is really nice. May I have another please?.”

“Of course you can, Fumiko-chan.” Johan grins, and mixes another, handing it to her. She seems to have forgotten all about why they’re in Johan’s apartment. He’s definitely used something. Vodka by itself wouldn’t have the effect that drink seems to be having on her, but whatever it is, it is having an effect. A major effect.

She takes the glass, she drinks, and this time it’s not a sip. She swallows almost thirstily, her cheeks pink as she glances around at Johan again, before looking down. Whatever she’s drinking, she likes it, and that must be her fourth or fifth now. Her cheeks are a little flushed. She’s Japanese, she’s fourteen, she’s probably never drunk alcohol before and she’s definitely never consumed whatever it is Johan is adding. She’s half-hammered.

She glances towards Johan again. “Can we go swimming, Mr. Johan-san?”

“Of course we can, Fumiko-chan. Let me find a swimsuit for you.” He takes out his phone and calls someone. Murmurs into it, puts his phone down.

“Do you mind me asking if they teach you about sex in your school, Fumiko?”

Fumiko doesn’t look around, and her answer is entirely unselfconscious. “Oh? We do not learn about sex in Japan. But here, my school is for Japanese who live here in America, they explained that, so of course we have sex education classes for the girls.” She giggles. “All the other girls have had those classes since elementary school. I had to do lots of catching up when I started.”

“Are you caught up now?”

“Yes, but I had to ask our teacher a lot of questions. He was so embarrassed.” She giggles again, covering her mouth with one hand. “ I think he would like to take photographs of me too. He has junia aidoru magazines in his desk. I saw them when he was helping me. I think he would like to do things to me to. His, you know, his thing got very big when he was explaining to me.”

Johan chuckles. “I’m sure he would like to do things to you, Fumiko-chan. You’re a very beautiful junia aidoru. I can see why men like looking at you.”

Fumiko dimples and smiles adorably. She’s flattered. She likes that comment, and I can see she’s a girl who likes attention from men. Not just boys, men. Well, she doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll get lots of attention from men alright. More than she ever imagined when she posed for those junia aidoru photo shoots.

There’s a tap at the door. Johan turns, opens it, takes a handful of swimsuits and closes the door. Fumiko hasn’t even noticed. She’s sipping more of that drink. A lot more. It’s half-gone already.

“Mr. Johan-san, I don’t know why men want to do that thing with women. It is so ... why would a man want to put his ... his penis into a woman like that. And why must you be married to do that?”

She covers her mouth with her hand and giggles again. “Excuse me for asking, please, but you are an American. I think it is easier to ask an American than to ask a Japanese person.”

Johan chuckles. It’s a genuine chuckle, he’s amused at her innocence. I’m not. I’m sad, because this was filmed yesterday. A day and a half ago. Thirty or forty hours ago, she really was that innocent. Now she’s not. Now that innocence has been fucked right outta her.

“Men and women do not need to be married to have sex, Fumiko-chan.” He smiles. “A man putting his penis into a woman is very enjoyable for the man, I can assure you of that.” He grins as he takes her empty glass from her, refills it yet again and passes it back to her. It’s full, but now there’s ice cubes added. “It can be very enjoyable for the woman too.”

“It can? ... But how, and why does a man enjoy doing that?”

“Sex?”

“Yes.” She drinks again, perhaps to cover her embarrassment.

Johan smiles that avuncular smile. “Have you ever kissed a boy or had a boyfriend, Fumiko-chan?”

Fumiko shakes her head, looking down, not meeting his eyes. “No ... no, of course not. I am too young.”

“Never, not even once?”

“No ... not even once, my mother says I cannot have a boyfriend until I am at university.” She smiles now, as she glances back at Johan. “I’d really like a boyfriend now, but I am only in Grade Nine. I do not want to wait another four years for a boyfriend.” She giggles and covers her mouth with her hand. That giggle is so sweet. So innocent.

Johan’s smile is even broader. “Oh, that’s perfect, Fumiko. Now, are you a virgin?”

Fumiko looks confused. “Virgin?”

“Have you ever had sex?”

Fumiko is shocked. “No, of course not. I have not even a boyfriend.” She giggles again. “I have not even been kissed by a boy. How can I have sex?” She’s puzzled.

Johan smiles. “Some girls do, before anyone even kisses them.”

“They do?” Fumiko’s startled, her eyes widen. “Really? Before they are married?” She looks adorably confused. “Excuse me, Mr. Johan-san. I know some girls do, bad girls.”

Almost to herself, she whispers, “I would like to be a bad girl.” She shivers and I can see her face. For a moment there, she’s off in a world of her own, Johan and her unfamiliar surroundings completely forgotten. “I would like to be a very bad girl, like those girls in those movies Otou-chan watches.”