The following is a work of fiction and is intended for adult readers only. It is based on characters developed by Toxis and The Mayor of Cherish and deals with mature subject mature. For background read their stories at www.bimbofiction.com or www.mcstories.com
Nicole Smith has been drafted to play for the OTTII Proton All Star baseball team in Kobe, Japan, a farm team for a major U.S. Major League Ball Team. She knows this is her one and only shot at fulfilling her plan of playing in the “Big-Leagues”. What she doesn’t know, is that the nefarious OTTII Corporation (the team’s owner) has a very different plan for her.
Len Dawson had a problem. He sat at his desk puffing away on a Cuban cigar, weighing his options. If only she wasn’t so good, it would be easier then. But the girl had talent, a lot of talent, and she wanted to play in the pro’s, specifically for Len’s pro team. He leaned back in his leather office chair, looking at the World Series pennants his team had collected over the years. Talk about a rock and hard place, he thought to himself. If she played, it would open the floodgates to mediocre female players who wrongfully thought they too could play in the big leagues. It would turn his team into the “flavor-of-month”, flooding the stadium curious onlookers, who would only attend to catch a glimpse of the “first girl in baseball”. Filling the stands with band-wagon jumpers would only serve to irritate his loyal hard-core fan base, meaning that after the novelty of the girl wore off, he’d be left with a half empty stadium. Not to mention the cultural and emotional impact on the team itself. No, this was going to be bad all around. Especially when you looked at the alternative.
If he didn’t let her play, he would have every feminist in the country parading around telling everyone what a sexist pig he was, how discriminatory the game was. Wives across the country would be upset, and start to clamp down on their husbands, attendance would drop…it would be like the strike all over again. Not to mention the lawsuit. Surely she would sue him, and likely she would win. The court costs alone would be in the millions. He sighed, letting a cloud of sweet tobacco smoke escape his lips. There had to be a way out.
Len leaned forward and spun his Rolodex around. He let it stop on his New York contact. They could make anyone “disappear” for the right price. But no, he thought to himself, having her “off’d” would be too suspicious. Besides the mafia just wasn’t the same these days. Twenty years ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated, but now there were too many wise guys running around thinking that they were Tony Soprano.
He kept flipping, stopping at his Russian contacts. The Russian Mob today, was like the New York crime families of yesterday, only worse. They showed no mercy and would do just about anything that needed to be done. He could have the girl working as a drug-addicted prostitute in Moscow within weeks. However, that ruthlessness could come back to bite him in the ass. Who’s to say they wouldn’t try to blackmail him into paying more, in order to keep his dirty little secret buried. Len sighed again and let the Rolodex spin further on.
One particular contact caught his attention. A Japanese consortium. Rumor has it they can make problematic girls vanish. Using surgery and brain washing, they turn unwanted American troublemakers into cock-sucking Asian bimbos. He recalled the banter with his golf buddies of a record executive who was behind the eight-ball, having just signed a talented young Arvil Lavgine wannabe mere days before the real thing released her first single. Knowing full well there wasn’t room for two queens of angst-infused teen rock, he sold the contract to the OTTIII Corporation, who are in the process of remaking the girl into an empty-headed sex-crazed Japanese Pop Tart. All without her knowledge, or more importantly…her consent.
There was also the tale of the young lawyer, on her way to the top of the firm. When suddenly, one her male co-workers, who also was on his way up, saw to it that she be transferred to work as OTTIII’s legal counsel in Japan. She was last seen cheering on OTTIII’s racing team, with a dick in each of her three holes, loving every minute of it.
A smile formed on the millionaire’s lips. He had found his answer.
Nicole Smith was determined to play in the pro’s. She had already played in the top women’s leagues in North America, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted the brass ring…the MLB. Nothing else would do. Her agent had done well, getting her a chance to join the roster of one of the winningest teams in the majors. She knew she was good enough to play, and once they saw her pitch, catch and bat…any doubts would put aside. When her agent called that fateful afternoon, she expected great news. She would be slightly disappointed.
“Nicole, we’ve got a slight change of plan”, her agent began. Nicole slumped down in seat, her mind already anticipating how she would lash out if they didn’t give her a contract. “The Fire-balls have given you a contract…but,” he paused.
She perked back up in her chair, “But what Chad?”.
Chad Evans had been in the game long enough to know what was going down. He carefully chose his words so as to make it sound better than it was. “You have a contract with them, but they want you to start out with their farm team…”, his voice trailed off.
“Farm team? That’s great news Chad. I can handle that. Where is the farm team? Rochester? Spokane? Fort Myers?” the excitement in her voice was growing.
“Um, no Nicki, its in…um, Kobe.”
Nicole paused. “where?”
Chad repeated himself, “Kobe…Japan”
Small town girl in the big city
For a small-town girl from the American Mid-West, arriving in Japan was more like arriving on a different planet then arriving in another country. Clutching her carryon she felt like an ant in an anthill as she negotiated her way to OTTII courtesy desk where she had been told to go. Apparently this OTTII company was some big Japanese conglomerate that owned the Fire-Ball’s farm team. She remembered the mixed feelings she has had, when her agent told her that she was going to be playing here, the disbelief that she would be so far away from the U.S. But she was here, now, and on her way to playing for the OTTII Proton All Star baseball team (quite the mouthful). She had no idea what lay ahead for her, but what options did she have? Stay in the U.S. and try to get some other team to look at her? It could take months, years even. She didn’t have that kind of time. No, this really was her best shot. If she could impress the hell out of this team, they’d have choice but to send her up to the big league…and back to the U.S.
A large silver and blue logo indicated where the OTTII desk was. As she approached the girl behind the counter began to smile widely.
“Nikko?” she said, “Nikko Smut?”
Nicole nodded, figuring the girl’s thick accent had changed Nicole Smith into Nikko Smut. “Hi, I’m Nicole…I’m supposed to meet someone here about the ba..” The girl interrupted her, “You cum for team?”
“Um, yeah…I guess.” Nicole replied, vaguely certain of what the girl was asking.
“Ms Smith…we have been waiting for your arrival.” Nicole spun around to see a short mustached Japanese man in a three-piece suit with an OTTII logo embroidered on the chest. “My name is Mr. Fujiama, but you may call me Fuji…please, this way.”
Nicole, still unsure of what she should do, decided that it would be best to follow. He did, after all, speak almost perfect English.
Soon she was seated opposite Mr. Fuji in a long black limousine, racing through the crowded city streets on her way to the OTTII sports complex. Chad had told her that the company’s recreation center was as big as a small city, offering sports and fitness programs to OTTII’s thousands of employees. It was also home to the OTTII sport dome, where the Proton All Stars played. And as Mr. Fuji explained on the car ride there, would also serve as her home while in Japan.
“We have found it most beneficial to immerse our team members in a complete preparation regime. This is best achieved by having all team members under one roof” He stopped, turning to the window as the OTTII dome passed by, “A very big roof at that”. Nicole leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the enormous complex, but her view of the outside was abruptly cut off. We must be in a tunnel or something, she thought.
Moments later the car stopped and the door was opened. Mr. Fuji motioned for Nicole to exit, and she found herself standing in a cavernous concrete corridor, still clinging to her carryon. Mr. Fuji spoke quietly to the car driver, who approached her with his hand open. “You may give your carryon luggage to the driver Ms. Smith. He will ensure that it is sent with your other luggage to the appropriate place”, Mr. Fuji smiled.
Slightly intimidated by the large chauffer, Nicole cautiously relinquished the bag. Suddenly the corridor was filled with the sounds of cheering. We must be near the dome, she thought. Mr. Fuji reaffirmed her suspicions, “Come Ms Smith, the game is in progress. I am sure you will be delighted to see how we do things here in Japan.” Nicole’s eyes lit up. She hadn’t played or watched baseball in…she glanced at her watch, 47 hours…a lengthy period of time for an athlete of her caliber.
She followed Mr. Fuji to an elevator, and after ascending what seemed to be a mile, the doors opened. Two large men in dark suits greeted them. Mr. Fuji spoke quickly in Japanese and the two men parted from the doorway, but not before they eyed Nicole over, commenting briefly with each other in their native language.
This must be a private box, she thought to herself as she scanned her plush surroundings. There was a large bar, tables, sofas monitors covering the game on the field everywhere. At the front of the room were rows of plush stadium seats, all empty but for one head, which was seated in the center of the front row. Nicole and Mr. Fuji approached slowly; Nicole was more focused on the goings on outside the box. The stadium was huge; perhaps the largest she had ever seen, and packed to the rafters with fans. The scoreboard indicated that the home team had the bases loaded with two outs, two strikes and two balls. As they moved closer to the front of the box, something moved in the corner of Nicole’s eye.
There was another person in the box. She turned her eyes to see a young looking girl, rising up from a kneeling position in front of the seated man. She was dressed in a very short metallic blue pleated skirt, with an equally brief metallic bikini top, and thigh-high white PVC boots with incredibly stacked platform heels. Her makeup was gaudy, overdone in matching blue and silver colors…OTTIII colors. Her hair, in two high pigtails, was platinum blonde with streaks of silver and blue. Nicole had a hard time figuring if she was Japanese or not. She was slim, but curvy, with super-sized breasts, wide hips and a heart shaped bubble-butt. Apparently it was colder in here than I thought, Nicole said to herself. The girl’s nipples appeared rock hard and extremely prominent. Her lips were huge, made even larger glossy silvery pink lipstick. It was her eyes that baffled Nicole the most. They were too large to be American, but not slanted enough to be Japanese. She looked almost like that cartoon…what was her name again? Nicole tried to remember. Something…Moon.
Mr. Fuji spoke sternly to the girl in Japanese, Nicole wasn’t sure, but gleaned from the sentence that the girl’s name might be Riki. She licked her swollen lips and looked down at the floor, bowing to the seated man who was adjusting his belt as he wiggled in his seat, then to Mr. Fuji. She then left them, avoiding eye contact with Nicole as she scurried past in her impossible heels.
“Ms Smith?” Mr. Fuji broke Nicole’s train of thought, “I would like you meet Mr. Seiji Herakini, the president of OTTII Industries Corporation”. The man stood and gingerly shook Nicole’s hand. “Ah, Ms. Smith…”, Seiji began.
“Please, call me Nicole,” she blurted out.
Mr. Fuji rolled his eyes and looked away. Seiji frowned at first, then smiled again, “it is customary in Japan that a man treat young woman as yourself with….”, he glanced at Mr. Fuji for a second, “with respect. As I am sure that you would show to me and my associates.”
Nicole blushed, realizing that she may have offended the man who owned the team that was her only shot at playing pro-league ball. “Sorry Mr. Hera…Heraki..ni”. She struggled to pronounce the man’s name.
He seemed impressed by her effort to correct herself. “Very good Nikko. Now sit, the seventh inning stretch is about to begin.” With that he sat back in his seat and turned his eyes towards the field. Mr. Fuji occupied the seat next her, forcing Nicole to sit between to the two men. She fought the urge to correct her new employer, repeating Its Nicole, not Nikko over and over inside her head.
Out on the field, the players were disappearing to their dressing rooms as the dome lights began to dim. A deep voice spoke in rapid Japanese to the crowd, who began to applaud louder and louder. Nicole spotted movement on the field. Equipment was being wheeled to the center of the diamond. It looked like a large stage was being assembled. Thumping techno music began to play throughout the stadium. After a few minutes bright lights shown on the field. There was a stage with huge neon letters that flickered to life around the bottom, as someone was raised up through the floor. It was a girl. She had super-tight blonde ringlets and was dressed in a bizarre fetish-style school girl’s uniform. The stage began to rotate as three more girls in equally skimpy but more adult-looking clothes joined the girl already on stage. As the stage slowly spun around Nicole noticed that the pink neon spelled “YUMMY” in bold pink letters. It seemed odd, but she had seen intermittent English words and phrases randomly placed everywhere since she had arrived.
The girl spoke to the crowd in broken English. Her voice was a high-pitched cartoonish chirp that seemed to fit her bizarre appearance. “Hay-ro base-barr fan!” she giggled, “Me Yummy Yamaguchi. Me sing fol you?” Nicole wasn’t sure if she was asking a question or making a statement.
Yummy began to sing in mixed English and Japanese lyrics. She giggled and frolicked on stage with the three other dancers, occasionally kissing them full on the mouth and flipping up her skirt to expose her g-string covered ass to thunderous cheers from the crowd. The whole concert was total culture shock for Nicole who had never experienced such a performance…especially at a baseball game. For her, the fifteen-minute concert seemed like an hour. She couldn’t believe that they would interrupt the game…her game…her passion. It was like watching a stripper at church. She tried to contain her disgust, breathing a sigh of relief as the tiny empty-headed singer and her entourage left the stage.
In a few minutes the lights would some back on and the players would return to the field. In a few minutes Nicole would relax and watch the last two innings with the team owner and his associate. In few days she be playing pro-ball with the Fire Balls’ farm team and all would be well.
Wouldn’t it?