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.
"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.