Chapter 2

We enjoyed another long late morning bath in the steaming waters of the pond, which included a subtle and non-conspicuous copulation with me standing up to her neck in the water with her arms and legs wrapped around me. The trip later down the stairs hardly taxed me at all, and my knee was still feeling pretty good when we got back into our room just before another wave of the snow storm hit. We enjoyed a fine luncheon and had a peaceful afternoon nap in our not quite so cold room, snuggled nude against each other until dinner time. Still tired we decided skipped another late night climb in the howling wind and snow to enjoy the warm comforts of each others bodies under the blankets.

Shinju wasted no time in taking me once again deeply into her mouth and throat and by the time I emptied my first load of the evening into her exceptional mouth I was starting to assemble a few of the more cryptic comments she had made earlier into a better understanding of my beloved's prior sexual history, which she clearly had little or no intention of sharing with me at this time. My 'Pearl' loved keeping her secrets!

Nicely warmed up for the main event, we could now indulge ourselves and be a bit more energetic and noisy than we were able to this morning at the Temple. Soon she was on all fours and I was thrusting as hard and fast as I could, ramming my cock into her ever so tight cunt from behind as she rubbed her sensitive clit from underneath and cried out her pleasure.

I was about to join her and blast my load of cum deep into her when she suddenly stopped and asked me to pull out and enter her ass. I was well lubricated, but I asked her if she wanted me to push in slowly.

"No!" she said firmly. She wanted to feel me deep inside her right away and fill her "Baita Ketsu". I obliged, and she seemed in ecstasy. She became much more vocal and shouted her delight in both Japanese and some English, and I began to hear several words repeated that I filed away for future reference, particularly "Baita" and "Yariman".

When I at long last took my relief and filled her ass with my load, she was a happy as a tigress that had just eaten a big steak dinner. We held each other close and kissed passionately and deeply, and all she would say of any consequence for some time was "Now I have given everything of myself that I have to offer to you, which you have accepted. We are now one you and I, soul lovers, never again to be parted in spirit or in soul until our final days or until the last star has fallen from the sky".

We kissed again and did not separate our lips or tongues for a very long time, and she was still gently kissing the hairs on my chest when I at last fell asleep with her still in my arms.

The next morning after a much more enjoyable hot breakfast that was far superior to cold fish, it was decided that she needed to finish her business at her family village and I could come along with her if I really wished to. She was actually not particularly happy about that particular part, and seemed to think I might not particularly enjoy meeting all of her distant relatives (she had no immediate family alive apparently). I tried to pay up our hotel bill but the elderly owners would hear nothing of it and tore it up in front of me.

"I had done an invaluable service to the temple!" They said to my Pearl, and we were both 'always to be welcomed back as family'. Ok, then ... I was starting to get the picture. We bowed a lot to each other and we waited to catch the island bus that was now back to pretty much normal operating hours now that the storm was over, and it was expected to arrive here next at about 2:30 p.m...

The driver was not our friend from the earlier night, but seemed pleasant enough (and accepted my fare) and we enjoyed the brief trip that took just about forty minutes driving slowly and carefully on the icy roads. If I had expected any kind of a hero's welcome at her village, which I hadn't, it would have been a big letdown. No one at first seemed especially interested or excited at our arrival, but I soon started to receive a good number of fairly suspicious looks from practically everyone, who seemed to resent that Shinju was holding my hand just as tightly as she could without breaking any bones.

It being winter, and bad weather besides, nearly all of the fishing boats had been pulled up onto the rocky shore and a goodly number of surly looking young men were sort of doing some kind of maintenance work. From the looks of them, most would much rather have been at the village pub having a beer or nicely warmed local Saki. For that matter, so would I.

Shinju said she needed to conduct a little business with 'Great Uncle' first, but it should only take a few minutes. I got the impression this business involved some sort of regular payment that she was required to make. I was pointed in the direction of a non-descript house that was the local watering hole and I told her that I would wait for her there. Everywhere in the world apparently the outside of a bar looks recognizable, even to strangers as a bar. But not so in Japan, often there will be no recognizable signs or neon's of any kind and only the locals know what that that building is used for.

My money was good at this bar, but just barely, and I think I got shortchanged for my Kirin beer that I spent the next hour nursing in a corner. I was the immediate subject of considerable, but not particularly friendly, interest. I gave up after one attempt at conversation, not that I had much conversational Japanese and they apparently had even less English.

More and more men started to come into the bar and started to nurse drinks of their own, talking quietly, undoubtedly about me. A couple of younger men seemed quite animated about something and gestured frequently in my direction, but they were verbally restrained by several older men, including the bartender who seemed to have quite a bit of status in the village.

When he barked at a particularly loud and obnoxious young fellow to "Demare" (Shut up), he actually did ... for a minute or two. After finishing his drink the angry young fellow started to leave the bar, but not before giving me a loud piece of his mind. His insults to me included two words, "Baita" and "Yariman" that I had heard used before, and I was now quite clearly getting some context for what sort of words those really were.

Things seemed to be percolating nicely towards some kind of confrontation when at long last Shinju came in and rescued me. There wasn't anyone of them that I couldn't have handled one-on-one, but it undoubtedly wouldn't have happened that way, and I didn't like the way all of those hard-eyed fisherman kept their hands on their large belt knives. If she hadn't come when she had, they would have probably soon started to gut me as their next catch of the day.

From the look on her face as we hastened but not quite ran, to the returning bus stop for the south bound island bus, I guessed that her own meeting with her 'Great Uncle' had probably gone about as well as my own attempt at conversation in the tavern. Things were 'ok for now', but she wouldn't explain exactly just what that meant.

We had not quite entirely escaped however, and soon a crowd of about twenty young men seemed to be gathering with intent to come over to us and pay an unfriendly visit. But just when I started to see the first belt knife come out to be readied for use our bus arrived (either an hour early, or quite a bit late behind schedule), we didn't care. That little piece of luck might have saved our lives.

Shinju said nearly nothing the entire trip back to Ryotsu, but held me close to her. At times she seemed quite near tears. Nothing I said could draw even a word of two of explanation from her. It wasn't until the last half hour of the long 35km return boat trip back to Niigata that I forced her to look at me as I kissed her and started to use my limited stock of available verbal weapons to force the stalemate to an end.

"First of all, I need to know and know now, what do the words 'Baita' and 'Yariman' exactly mean in reference to you?" I gently but firmly demanded, refusing to let her eyes lose their lock on mine.

Unable to avoid my gaze, she stammered and then lowered her eyes in total defeat.

"They mean exactly what I am to them, a slut and whore who has done literally 'ten-thousand men' she said, and added "I am unworthy to be your soulmate."

She sat down on the chair and wept in despair, believing that she had lost me forever, but a few choking and crying words at a time I managed to extract from her the story of her previous life.

Their small remote island village was especially traditional and had a long history going far into the past of smuggling and many other less than legal occupations. Women were very subservient to the demands of the Headsmen of the Clan, the 'Great Uncle', and it had long been traditional and expected that young women of low clan status learn at an early age the erotic skills of the female members of Clan, specifically engaging in prostitution in the nearby larger towns and cities of the mainland to earn coin for their families. The men folk engaged in their traditional arts of fishing, smuggling and providing muscle for more powerful criminal clans.

Her grandmother had become impregnated while working the docks of Yokohama after WW-II, the father being most likely an American sailor. Her own mother had worked in a bordello near the docks of Tokyo and had raised her daughter (whom as I suspected was indeed a quarter Western in blood) into the family profession from a much too early age.

Shinju discovered early that she had a gift for languages and learned as much as she could even as a girl from the sailors and merchantmen who patronized her mother, and later herself. Somehow, and against all odds, she had managed to finish High School and gain a short two-year teaching certificate while still holding down her family 'night job'. Her certificate in hand, she petitioned her clan elders to release her from her life of prostitution and allow her to earn her living as a teacher, but still sending most of her salary home. This alternative was reluctantly accepted, but was viewed with much suspicion by the more conservative and traditional members who wished no changes in the customary family enterprises.

At least every three months for the couple of years she had returned and given over most of her salary, leaving only a pittance for her to live on and share a small tiny flat with three other poor teachers. Upon each visit the 'reluctance' was greater to allow her the continued freedom she had enjoyed, and she greatly feared that soon she would be forced to 'resume her mother's occupation'.

I was livid, and angered beyond words, and as the ferryboat docked back in Niigata, I picked her up off of her feet and carried her across the walkway to the dock and upon solid ground.

"You're no longer in their village or even on their island, now you're on mine and you belong to me, and I will keep and protect you the best I can, and let's hope to God that will be enough!" I sincerely told her.

She kissed me nearly a thousand times and we left hand in hand to go and collect her few belongings from her flat. For the next few weeks at least, she would be living with me at my hotel. She could continue to work her teaching job and she made arrangements to once again stay with some teacher friends for the month that I was to be on Okinawa with the ball club.

Anticipating that dreaded return to the States after the end of Spring Training, we started to make arrangements for getting Shinju a Passport and Visa so she could return with me to the US. Luckily, she never ended up needing to use it, but we were prepared for the worst.

We spent a torrid last night together filled with lovemaking and precious little sleep, and I dreamed the pleasant dreams of planned future delicious naughtiness all the way on the short airline flight to Naha Airport, Okinawa.

Before I knew it Spring Training was underway, and I seemed to be completely ready for it! My bad knee hadn't complained in protest to me in weeks, but now the real test was about to begin!

The first day was taken up by medical exams, and this time when the doctors MRI'd my knee they now grinned with happiness. The swelling and inflammation seemed to be entirely gone for now and I was cleared for unlimited practice.

Oh how we practiced! From early morning until almost too dark to see, of endless batting practice, running and fielding drills. I was resolved to maintain my earlier game attitude of demonstrating my 'Wa" at every opportunity. I tried to be the first on to the playing field and the last one to leave, and when other players (especially my other two gaijin sukett) started to falter from fatigue, I redoubled my own efforts.

Each day I crawled into my small bedroom exhausted and figured that 'this was it', that the next day my bad knee wouldn't possibly hold up to any more ... but it always did. It twinged occasionally, but not any more than my other 'good' knee was now doing. I was hitting very well and with confidence, and seemed to be improving every day defensively as well. Getting hit five hundred or more ground balls every day to field will certainly tend to sharpen your skills.

I survived until the final day of Spring Training, when most of the others fringe players had been sent onwards to their Minor League team assignment. Most JPB teams only have one Minor League" team, unlike most MLB teams that have at least six and sometimes as many as ten, but my team was very new and avidly trying to develop new talent and had three sponsored developmental teams. Only the famous and wealthy Yomuri Giants and Hashin Tigers could afford to have this many.

My fate was still undecided, but again it appeared that my new manager was firmly on my side. I was allowed to fly with the team, back to Niigata where my situation would be 'resolved by upper management'. By that they meant the team's owner, the already legendary and notoriously eccentric billionaire Hotaka Sato had wanted to speak personally to me.

I had heard a few stories about him from the team veterans, and many of the tales were wildly improbable. First and most importantly, he was a rabid baseball fan since boyhood. He attended every home game in person (in his special box invariably filled with the cream of Japanese society as guests), and often awoke early in the morning to also watch American MLB games on the satellite.

Secondly, Sato was a self made man who had little reverence for tradition or normal authority figures. He had never attended college and had inherited a small local chain of six small supermarkets from his father. He then turned all conventional wisdom upside down and by disregarding the advice of all of his late father's advisors, managed within five years to grow the chain into twenty large 'western style' mega-marts, where everything from food to dishware or clothing could be purchased all under one roof. Sam Walton would have been very proud of Mr. Sato had they ever met.

When the local TV advertising costs became too expensive, he bought the local TV station, and then he acquired the small regional northern media network chain that it belonged to. Later he even bought out his main competitor so that his new combined network of television stations handled virtually all of northern Japan. By happenstance, upon buying out another smaller but growing southern rival, he discovered that he now also owned a movie and television production studio, along with a record company, and his multimedia business now got into full swing.

All of his growth and acquisitions were always paid for in cash, never by any bank loans. When other competitors fell into debt, Sato only reaped more profit. He literally now couldn't spend any of his billions fast enough, and when the opportunity came to buy a NPB team and enter into the elite group of sixteen professional teams of Japanese baseball, he couldn't write that check fast enough.

Nearly every other professional sports stadium in Japan was city owned, and the teams paid huge rental fees for their use, but Sato instead bought some rundown warehouse areas on the waterfront of Niigata cheap, and paid for the construction of the newest and most modern sports stadium in all of Japan. Naturally, it included one of his gigantic mega-malls attached onto the stadium so happy baseball fans could do their shopping on the way home after the game.

The man was a genius ... and as mercurial as the New York Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, but undoubtedly much richer too. Everyone called him "the Chief", even to his face, but I just bowed a lot and called him 'Sir'.