Junior Year - Part III
Copyright© 2018 by G Younger
Chapter 14: Bitch, Please — It’s Your Birthday
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 14: Bitch, Please — It’s Your Birthday - There is a famous movie line: "There's no crying in baseball." Does that apply to making a movie? David Dawson travels to Cuba to make The Royal Palm and discovers that his director hates him. Will he be able to overcome the obstacles placed in front of him to be able to deliver a starring performance? Acting isn't the only thing to do in Cuba. David embarks on a journey to discover this hidden gem and the people that live there. Next is Japan and then U-18 USA Baseball.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Teenagers Sports
Friday July 1
When we arrived in Chicago, we went and got our suitcases from baggage claim. The flight to Japan left in two hours, so we went to the car and dropped off our gear. Paul and I had packed separate bags for Japan, which we grabbed. Paul looked at his phone.
“They’re here,” he said, letting me know that everyone going to Japan had been dropped off.
I gave my family hugs.
“I loved this guys’ week. I can’t wait to see what you plan to top it next year,” I said.
“We could go to the nudist place,” Greg ventured.
“I don’t think he should be allowed to plan anything,” Phil quipped.
Once Phil had gotten over being nervous around us, we’d found he had a wicked sense of humor.
“I love you guys,” I said, and followed Paul to where we needed to drop our bags off.
Before we checked them, I made sure I had my passport and Google phone. It would save me a ton of money on calls back to the US. I had my carry-on and checked everything else. The plan was to go to LA and from there we would start our journey to Tokyo.
We found everyone at the gate. I suddenly realized that I might have overdone it a bit. Waiting on us were Cassidy and Brook, who were sitting with my interpreter, Hana Yamamura. I’d also promised Megan Crowley that she could come as a reward for clueing me in about Brandon Rigby. She was our finance, research and technology person in the office. Finally, my newest employee, Kent Crain, was sitting next to Megan. I shook my head when I realized there were six people with me. It would only get worse when we arrived in Tokyo: Ari was joining there.
I wasn’t looking forward to our thirteen-hour flight to Tokyo. Caryn had shopped around and found us business-class seats that were better than most first-class seats I was used to. The seats could be turned into beds, and I took full advantage since we had to get up ridiculously early to make it to Chicago in time for the flight. I was literally in an airline seat for most of a day by the time we landed in Tokyo.
Ari had been smart to force us to fly in early and give us the weekend to acclimate to the time change before my first job on Monday. It also gave everyone a chance to explore the city before I had to work.
Sunday July 3
I’d had the front desk give me a wake-up call for seven in the morning. Back home it was five in the evening. I had a bad feeling that when we went home, my body clock would be completely messed up. Someone knocked on my door, so I grabbed a robe and answered it.
“You’re not going to be happy,” Cassidy said as she and Brook came into my room.
I hadn’t gotten a suite because we would be leaving Tokyo tomorrow after my first advertisement was shot. Before I could hear why I wouldn’t be happy, there was another knock at the door. This time it was Kent.
“I didn’t do it,” he said with raised hands.
“Hang on,” I said to Kent, and then turned back to Cassidy.
“They know you’re here,” Brook said.
“Who knows I’m here?” I asked.
Kent held up a newspaper and my picture was on the entertainment page.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“How would I know? Didn’t you hire an interpreter?” Kent asked.
“You’re big in Japan. It’s almost impossible to get out of the lobby because your fans and the paparazzi are camped out,” Brook supplied.
“How do you know they’re my fans? There might be someone else famous here,” I hoped.
“They’re dressed up like fanboys and fangirls,” Kent said.
I’d had this happen once at the University of Chicago when we did the ‘get out the vote’ rallies. I thought this had calmed down some. I mean, in North Carolina we had people come out to the games, but no one dressed up.
I called Hana and had her come to my room. While I waited, Kent ordered room service and I took a shower. I came out to find everyone in my room.
“What did I tell you? They love you here,” Ari said.
“What’s the deal with everyone out front all dressed up?” Paul asked.
“That’s big here. They are called kosupure (ko-su-pray), or cosplay back home. I would expect there are probably cameko taking pictures of them,” Hana explained.
“Are they going to be stalking me every time I go out?” I asked.
“‘#StrykerLocation’ is trending on Twitter right now,” Kent told me.
“I wanted to play tourist today,” I complained.
“Do you know your lines for tomorrow’s commercial?” Ari asked, and he could tell that I didn’t. “Then you’re staying here until you learn them.”
That was how Hana and I found ourselves stuck in the hotel room while everyone else went out and had fun. Hana was happy when I finally got the lines down to her satisfaction. The only problem was, I’d sent Paul and Cassidy with Kent, Brook and Megan, so I couldn’t leave. Hana didn’t feel bad enough to stay and keep me company.
Monday July 4
The hotel had put up a barrier to keep people back from the front of the building. Paul had hired a driver to take Hana, Kent, Ari and me to Tokyo Animation for today’s commercial. He had everyone else come out and get into the car before I left my room. He and Cassidy escorted me to the lobby where I suddenly was surrounded by fans.
I figured that since they were paying customers of the hotel and I was causing them a huge hassle, I would slow down, sign some autographs, and let them get their picture taken with me. Paul wasn’t happy, but it was only thirteen people, so I wasn’t worried.
When we exited the hotel, I could see there were about fifty fans and paparazzi on the far side of the barrier. I smiled and waved at them, and then slowed down as Cassidy opened the door of the car. That was when someone pushed the barrier aside and a flow of people rushed us. Paul shoved me into the car and jumped in. Cassidy slammed the door and hurried back to the hotel. The driver eased his way through the throng of people.
“That was fun,” I commented.
“We might need to get more security,” Paul said.
Tokyo Animation reminded me of pictures I’d seen of Google and how they had their offices set up. Their employees all looked to be in their twenties and everyone had a laptop that seemed to be attached to them. They had a big open area with three rows of wooden desks that ran the length of the room. There didn’t seem to be assigned seating, because on our tour, you would see people moving from spot to spot to talk and work with each other.
They also had a game room with pool tables, pachinko machines (vertical pinball machines), and the like. There were also quiet rooms where they could go sit in a big comfortable chair while they worked. The cafeteria had large vending machines where you could select a free meal and pop it into a microwave. Everything in the cafeteria was free. We were told that some people preferred to work odd hours and this way they could get something when they were hungry.
Tokyo Animation had started as a company that printed Japanese comic books, called manga. They evolved into doing animated TV shows and movies. They then got into the CGI business.
Today’s commercial was for Dynamism, a technology company that made 3-D printers and 3-D scanners. They also made what they called ultra-mobile PCs and other gadgets. I’d done some research on them and they had a cool telepresence robot. It was a Segway for your iPad, meant to be used for teleconferencing. What made it so cool was it could follow you around. Sheldon, a character on the Big Bang Theory, had made himself something similar called ‘virtual Sheldon.’ My goal was to get one.
We were taken to a conference room where we were met by an older man, who turned out to be from Dynamism, and three young women.
“Welcome, David. We were excited when we found that you were available to advertise for our products. I look forward to much success,” Mr. Goda, the executive from Dynamism, said.
“Let me show you what we plan to do,” one of the women said.
I watched a video that had me wondering why they needed me, because they had a CGI representation that was a dead ringer and was better than what they’d done for Star Academy. The video then flashed a title: ‘David 2.0.’ It showed them using their 3-D scanner and then the 3-D printer to create green-colored version of me. Then my ringer’s eyes suddenly opened and it smiled. This was amazing.
They also had a voiceover for the ringer, which turned out to include the lines I’d spent yesterday learning. Every single one of them was used by the ringer, as ‘he’ showed off their different scanners and printers.
“We’ll have you do it in both English and Japanese,” one of the girls told me.
Their plan was to make thirty-second, forty-five-second, one-minute and three-minute versions for both the web and television.
“We’ll get you into the CGI studio to get your body mapped this morning. This afternoon you’ll do the voice work.”
They took me to a room that had a smaller, circular room inside it. I was put into a bodysuit that was covered in sensors. They explained that the circular room had cameras and sensors embedded into the walls so I could be seen from all angles and they could record my movements. They ran me through different poses and then had me make specific movements like sitting, walking and opening a door.
The next step was to strap my head into something that looked like a medieval torture device so my head wouldn’t move. I then had to go through a series of facial expressions and say my lines as they recorded my facial movements. I was told that natural and believable facial expressions were the key for the CGI to look as ‘real’ as possible.
Then they filmed me doing the commercial as reference points for their CGI work.
We finally stopped for lunch and I was able to get out of the bodysuit. Ari was all smiles and Paul didn’t look happy. I figured out that I was about to do some PR work.
“They want to allow their employees to meet you,” Ari explained.
The only problem was, I hadn’t been fed and my stomach was growling.
“I’m here to work, I’ve been going nonstop, and I’m starving,” I grumbled. “Can I at least get some food in me first?”
We walked into the cafeteria and saw they’d catered lunch. I almost sank to the floor in relief.
Kent had a box of my headshots and another of me as Stryker. I was happy when Hana stood up and told everyone that I needed to eat first, and then would take time to meet them all. She’d gone through the buffet for me and had set up small plates of different foods for me like she’d done for the traditional meals she’d made me. She smiled when I picked the chopsticks instead of the fork she’d also brought me. Japanese food looks pretty. They take the time to make everything look appealing.
Kent had a system in place where I would meet each employee, either Hana or they would tell me their name, I would write it on the photo they picked and then sign it, and I would stand up and they would come around the table to get their picture taken with me by someone called the ‘camera boy.’
I found them all to be very polite, and once they’d met me they would hurry off to talk excitedly with their workmates. With Kent’s system, we were able to accommodate everyone in a reasonable amount of time. Kent later told me that a few of the girls had slipped him their numbers to give to me.
The afternoon was spent doing the voice work. I was glad that Hana had spent so much time working with me because there were only a few words I either mispronounced or used with the wrong inflection.
The English version of their final product was very formal in the way it sounded. I thought it likely sounded like the Japanese version would if I tried to translate English into Japanese. Google was my friend for translation, but it was like a friend who didn’t really speak the language.
“Would it be okay if I fixed this?” I asked.
“Is it not correct?”
“No, technically it’s fine. It’s just not how Americans speak, and I’m assuming that’s your target audience.”
“Which parts would you change?”
“You have no contractions. It makes everything sound stiff and formal. It’s like the difference between a business report and a conversation. For example, in this sentence you have my avatar saying ‘we will,’ where in normal conversation I would say ‘we’ll,’” I explained.
“But our audience is business people.”
“Let’s do this. I’ll do the short one both ways and we have Ari come in and tell you what he thinks sounds best. He’s a businessperson who’s well aware of what sells.”
They agreed. Ari didn’t hesitate to pick my version as sounding more American. It seemed that they normally had another company write the English versions of their ads and commercials and they were now concerned that they needed to have them reviewed.
I pointed at Hana and explained that she was my interpreter and in college. I suggested they should hire her to review the wording. She could probably use the extra money.
We were done by 3:30. When we went downstairs, I found Paul had been busy. He’d hired a security firm. They had three big black SUVs parked out front with people blocking the sidewalk so we could make it to the car unmolested. Ari and Kent were directed to the first car while Paul, Hana and I rode in the second. There was a security person who drove and another who rode shotgun. In the last car five extra men followed us. I felt like a serious VIP.
The reason they were needed was that we had a huge crowd of fans and paparazzi waiting for us. Someone at Tokyo Animation must have leaked that we were there.
When we got back to the hotel, Brook came to my room.
“We’re going out,” she announced.
“Did you see everyone out front?” I asked.
“It’s your birthday. You aren’t going to let a few fans keep you from going celebrating, are you? It was bad enough you had to work.”
With the time change, and basically losing Saturday, I’d forgotten today was my birthday. I wondered for a moment why no one had sent me birthday wishes, and then it dawned on me. They were either sleeping or just getting up.
I heard my door’s lock click as someone used the keycard. Of course, it was Cassidy.
“How come you’re just standing around? Go get dressed,” she ordered.
There was a knock at my door almost as soon as she closed it. It was Kent. I should have gotten a suite.
“I told Mr. Goda that it was your birthday. He already had a reservation at Ise Sueyoshi, his favorite place to eat in Tokyo, and gave his reservation to you. The only problem is it only seats five people. I thought we should invite Megan as the fifth,” Kent suggested.
“What about Ari, Paul and Hana?” I asked.
“Bitch, please―it’s your birthday!” Kent said with a big smile.
That statement alone told me that Kent wasn’t going to be anything like Kendal. He might in fact corrupt me. I wondered if this was one of those ‘you can trust some people to do some things’ moments.
Our motorcade, as I was now calling it, took us to a small place. Ise Sueyoshi really did only seat five people. You sat at a sushi bar and watched as they prepared your meal. The meal was served in kaiseki style, which is a traditional Japanese multi-course meal. Kaiseki cuisine was originally developed to be a simple meal as part of Japanese traditional tea ceremony. Over time it has been elevated into an art form to stimulate all your senses.
Yuuki-san, our chef, opened with ikkon—a cup of crisp sake from Ise Shrine—and then moved us through a series of delightful small courses. The variation in ingredients, cooking style, and temperature was engaging. Regardless of whether the vegetables, meat or fish were served hot or cold, raw, steamed, boiled, or fried, every morsel was a treat and presented with flair.
We got the sake pairing for each course and this made it wonderful. Each sake, six total, was selected from the same region as the course it was paired with, and the sake went perfectly with the whole meal.
Over the course of the meal, Yuuki-san explained the dishes, the preparation techniques used, and the ingredients’ origins. This conversation helped us understand the sophistication of kaiseki. There was a story behind each ingredient and they had a book with photos to help show it graphically. You felt personally invested in each dish, which took the whole experience to another level.
Chef Yuuki-san offered a set 12-course menu that was seasonally inspired. The Spanish mackerel with vinegar jelly had the perfect balance between sweet and sour. The sashimi, roasted venison, prawn dumpling, in-season bamboo shoots with miso, and conger eel were all incomparable, and the tempura and shabu-shabu (where you cooked thinly sliced meat and vegetables in a boiling broth) were simply mouthwatering. The chef’s steamed rice with yellowtail was a tasty variation of tai-meshi. The rich matcha and chocolate dessert were wonderful. The meal ended with a traditional tea ceremony.
When we were done, I was amazingly full and satisfied. I felt like I’d just had the best meal of my life, and it was due in no small part to Yuuki-san’s entertaining explanation of what we were eating and his artistic skill in presenting each dish. I then received a birthday surprise: Mr. Goda had paid for our meal when he had given us the reservation. I made sure Yuuki-san got as many different pictures with me as he wanted.
I called Mom on the way to the club Kent had picked for us. I told her about the commercial I’d made today and the dinner we just had. Mom had my second birthday present. She walked out of the house and showed me my new car, a Dodge Demon.
They were not due out for at least another year, although they had shown the concept car at the New York Auto Show in April. As soon as I’d seen the promotion ad, I’d called Mr. Sullivan and told him that I wanted to be on the list for when the car came out.
For this car, Dodge had taken its Challenger SRT Hellcat 2-door coupe and heavily modified it. It was reported to have an 840 horsepower engine under the hood. In tests, it had done the quarter mile in 9.65 seconds and went from zero to sixty in 2.1 seconds. If the numbers held up, they would both be records for a production car.
Dodge planned to sell fewer than 3,500 cars for their first production run. This had to be one of their concept cars. I couldn’t imagine how much my family had spent to buy it.
“How did you get it? They aren’t supposed to be out for at least another year if not two,” I said.
“Dodge held a drawing and four dealerships each won a car as a promotional teaser. The Sullivans called Caryn when they learned they were getting it and wanted to know if you still wanted it. Mr. Sullivan said that you had to win state again this year as part of the payment,” Mom said.
“Let me check flights and I’ll see how soon I can get back.”
“No, you might want to stay so you can afford it,” Mom said with a smile.
“Since when do I have to pay for my birthday presents?” I asked.
“Since this one cost more than some homes I sell.”
She told me how much and I winced. I could turn around and sell it tomorrow for much more than that because they’d only released four of them. Thinking back to my last Dodge, I hated to contemplate how much this one would sell for at auction.
“You might want to have Fritz do his security bit on it,” I suggested.
“That, and your dad and uncle are getting some modifications done. It wasn’t set up to be driven every day. They’re having Mr. Sullivan put in a passenger and back seat, and a stereo system. It should be ready for you by the time you get back. Your dad, uncle and brother have all offered to help break it in.”
“I think Tami broke in the Charger.”
“I’m sure if you asked, she would help,” Mom teased.
We pulled up at the club, so I told Mom I had to go, and said my goodbyes to her.
Paul, Hana, and Ari joined us at the club. They’d gone to a nice Japanese steak house for dinner. Kent had called ahead and the club seated us in the VIP section for security reasons. In reality I think they’d set it up so people could take pictures of me in their club. After a half hour of being in a fishbowl, Kent got us moved to a more private seating arrangement.
Then Paul about ruined my birthday when he told me that he and Fritz would have to drive me in my new car. Cassidy reminded me that if I fired them, which I thought was totally justified, I’d be walking funny for the remainder of the week.
To settle Miss Cassidy down I made her dance with me. I rotated through the rest of the girls and was happy to see Kent dance with them too. I did make a point to tell him that all but Brook were fellow employees and I didn’t want to have to pay any harassment settlements. He was a big boy, and I figured he could find other women, if that were his goal. On the other hand, he’d also worked for Craig, where I was sure the rules were different. I decided clear expectations were worth a potential scowl from him, but he just nodded his head as if it was no big deal.
When Brook and I took a break, we came back to find another group had been put in the fishbowl. One of the women was a gorgeous Japanese girl with long silky black hair, everything in the right place and body proportions that added up to model-quality looks.
Brook must have been a mind-reader, because she grabbed my arm and steered me back to the table.
“I should probably introduce myself,” I teased her.
“Maybe you should get your birthday kiss,” she countered.
I’d liked Brook Davis the first time I ever met her. The Asian hottie had nothing going for her that I didn’t already know Brook had in spades. I decided to be naughty and moved my hand up her thigh. Brook shocked me when she put her hand on my package.
“I think we should all go dance,” Cassidy announced, being a good wing-woman.
Brook waited until they all left and then unzipped my pants. I blinked to figure out what she intended. Before my brain caught up, she’d pulled me out and had gone down on me. How far did she intend to take this? I just enjoyed the gift. Brook was almost as good as my parents with birthday gifts.
“Hey,” she said to get my attention. “Hurry up.”
I felt the awesome feeling, leaned my head back, and looked at the ceiling as I began to cum.
“Hi, you have to be David A. Dawson,” I heard.
My eyes snapped open and I looked to see who had just talked to me. It was the stunning Asian girl with two of her friends. Brook sat up, exposing Mr. Happy, and bolted for the bathroom. Of course, he was still full of life and I had difficulties putting him away. I think I turned fifty shades of red in embarrassment.
Ari came up with a big smile on his face.
“I see you’ve met Haru Doi. She’ll be working with you tomorrow. Her agent called because she wanted to meet you before you do your commercial tomorrow,” Ari said.
“Sorry about that,” I finally got out.
“I’d been warned about American actors. They all seem to be ... what’s the word I am looking for?” she asked, looking at her two friends.
“Sluts.”
“Sexy.”
I think I liked one of her friends a lot more than the other.
“Again, sorry about that. My manager said earlier, ‘Bitch, please―it’s your birthday.’ While that probably doesn’t excuse what you just saw, it’s my story and I’m sticking to it,” I said with a weak smile.
“Why, what happened?” Ari asked.
They all looked at me to explain.
“They saw my dick,” I admitted.
Ari didn’t know what to say, so he decided to just walk away and let me deal with it. For once I agreed with him. It was probably the best he could do under the circumstances.
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