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 awoke from her slumber with a start. She had been dreaming again…that same strange dream she had had for a few days now. She was dreaming about the LCD Monitor on her wall. It was essentially a TV screen, but she had no control over it. It played stupid Yummy Yamaguchi videos, “how to speak Japanese” tutorials and a video that extolled the virtues of OTTII, saying what a good company it was and how lucky Nicole was to be here…under OTTII’s care. Nicole mostly rolled her eyes. Corporate propaganda, indeed, propaganda in general was a big…no make that a huge part of the culture here. Maybe that is what the dreams were being caused by.
Every morning Nicole awoke thinking how lucky she was to be “owned” by OTTII. It was a disturbing thought, especially when worded in such a fashion. She wasn’t “owned” by anyone, in fact the thought that a company could claim to own a person was a completely foreign concept. People owned companies, not the other way around. Yet, there she was, laying under her pink fluffy comforter, wiping the sleep from her eyes, while the remainder of her dreamy thoughts slowly dissipated. “I am lucky to be owned by OTTII. OTTII is good to me. I must show my thanks to OTTII”, she gave her head a shake. Get a hold of yourself girl!
It was these damn late mornings that were driving her nuts. She was used to getting up at five thirty or six for training. OTTII didn’t start training until nine. Since first arriving, she had spent the early mornings in agony, waiting for the hours to pass in her room. If only they didn’t lock her in, she could go for a morning run. Mr. Fuji said it was for her own safety that she remain in her quarters until called for. This sucks, she thought to herself. There was nothing to do but watch the LCD panel on her wall…playing Yummy Yamaguchi videos and OTTII propaganda. It was total culture shock, and it was starting to get to her.
She had thought about trying to get out of her contract…of going back to the U.S. Maybe she would forget about baseball and go to college instead. It has her intention to do so anyway…after her Pro-Ball career was over. She planned to study commerce, maybe become an business manager for Pro-Ball team, or maybe she’d end up being a coach or General Manager. At least that was what she had always thought would happen. Now, nothing seemed certain.
Nicole yawned as she stretched in front of the mirror. Her luggage was still missing, though Mr. Fuji assured her that everything was being done to find it. In the meantime, he had given her some new clothes to wear. They weren’t exactly what Nicole would have preferred, but she really had little choice. The pink baby-doll nighties with big silver “OTTII” letters across the chest were one of those articles of clothing that she wouldn’t have preferred. She was a flannel pajama kind of girl…or maybe a big oversized tee shirt and boxers, but never a nightie.
After doing a few warm up stretches, she was dressed for her morning aerobics session. OTTII had provided her with a rather nice pair of hot pink warm-up pants, tight fitting and low riding, with white stripes down each flared pant leg and more big silver OTTII letters across the seat. They matched the letters across her top. Even the white sports bra she wore underneath had an OTTII logo on it. Even the skimpy pink thongs they had given her to wear had logos on them. Nicole had never before worn a thong, and at first she flatly refused, but she couldn’t bear the thought of not wearing anything. Funny thing was that after wearing them for a few days, she had to admit that she was starting to like them.
She pulled on her knee high white nylon socks and laced up her new white and pink shoes. As far as an athletic shoe goes, they were a joke. Aside from being white and pink, they had inch and half thick platform soles on them, which made it almost impossible to run. But again…what choice did she have? With her luggage gone…she didn’t have a choice at all.
Nicole stood in front of the mirror, pulling her chin length light brown hair through the pink OTTII baseball cap. Thank god none her of her former teammates could see her now. They would be laughing their asses off, she thought to herself. She looked over at the LCD panel on the wall. It read 8:37 in the bottom corner, and “OTTII will take of you” in the top corner. Nicole scoffed, “If you can take care of me then find my stupid suitcase!”
As if The LCD panel was listening the message changed, reading “You are lucky that OTTII has produced such fine clothing for you to wear”. Nicole looked around the room. There must be a microphone somewhere; she thought to herself, they’re listening to me. She decided to play a little game. “I wish I was back home,” she said aloud, watching the monitor for a response.
“You are lucky that OTTII has allowed you to be here” the LCD panel scrolled, “You should be thankful to OTTII for allowing you the privilege.” Nicole wasn’t sure what to think. Part of the message seemed like mindless propaganda…yet part of the message seemed to strike a cord with the young ball-player. She was privileged to be here. She was thankful for the opportunity that had been given to her.
The panel’s message changed again, “You should show how thankful you are to OTTII.” Nicole smiled at the panel, as if she agreed, then shook her head in disgust. What the hell was she doing??
At 8:59, the door to her tiny room opened. For the past few days she had been greeted each morning by the members of the Proton All Star Cheering Team (cheerleaders in the rest of the world). They were the same three girls who had been dancing on stage with Yummy Yamaguchi at the game last week. Nicole would join them for their three-hour aerobics session. They would stretch and exercise to the beat of pulsating techno and the occasional Yummy song. That girl is everywhere, Nicole had thought to herself. At times the aerobics class seemed more like a dance class, with an overbearing instructor showing Nicole how to shimmy and shake like the rest of the “team”. It was a far cry from any kind of training regimen she had ever done in the past, but at this point, she welcomed any kind of physical activity.
On this particular morning however, her dancing cohorts were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Mr. Fuji stood in the doorway, holding a paper cup of tea. “Good morning Ms. Smith” he said, handing her the tea.
Nicole took a sip and smiled, “Thank you Mr. Fuji, it is nice to see you again.” The hot bitter tea was one of the highlights of the day. It was much stronger than anything she had ever drank before, and with a very strict diet of chicken and rice, with pink colored protein shakes for snacks, it was the only variance in food that she was allowed. It was surprising how much it improved her mood. She always felt so much better after tea. So much so, that when Mr. Fuji led her to a waiting limousine, she remained calm and didn’t ask any questions. Asking questions would be rude of me, she thought to herself as the car sped through the city, OTTII has been good to me and I should show how thankful I am.
The loopy buzz the tea gave her was peaking when she and Mr. Fuji arrived at their destination. It was a high-end salon in a very posh part of the downtown. Giggling girls in expertly applied makeup and perfect hair, wearing brief, tight-fitting outfits escorted the young athlete to the back of the boutique, where she was seated.
I suppose I could use a little pampering, Nicole thought to herself as one of the beauticians placed earpieces in each ear. Familiar music filled her head. It was Yummy Yamaguchi. Nicole frowned. Talk about overexposure, she thought to herself as her hair was laid back into a sink.
Time seemed to wiz by as Nicole relaxed and let the salon staff do their thing. After working on her hair they gave her a facial, manicure, pedicure and waxing. All of it must have taken hours, but as Nicole let Yummy Yamaguchi ‘s pulsating techno-pop take over, she lost track of all time. It seemed that almost as quickly as it had begun, her trip to the salon was finished.
Before Nicole had a chance to see a mirror, Mr. Fuji escorted her back to the car. She noticed right away that something was…odd. The waxing had left the skin on her arms, legs and pelvis feeling tight and awkward. And speaking of tight and awkward…what was the deal with her waist? Ever since she sat down in the car it was hard to breath. She looked down at her warm up suit…slowly unzipping the top. To her surprise, the sports bra was gone, replaced with what looked like…a white satin corset!
“What the hell??” Nicole exclaimed aloud. Mr. Fuji looked up from his Japanese newspaper, “Is something the matter Ms. Smith?” Before Nicole had a chance to respond she noticed that her hands had been covered in stretchy white gloves. She picked at the wrists, then gasped aloud when she discovered that two tiny silver padlocks fastened to thin chain knit into the wrist. There was no way should be able to remove the gloves. She shot a panicked look at Mr. Fuji.
“Is something the matter Ms. Smith?” he repeated himself in a stern tone,” Are you displeased with some of the gifts that OTTII has honored you with?”
Nicole froze in place. She was appalled that the salon had changed her bra into a corset. Perhaps it was a Japanese custom that women wear such things, she thought to herself, and if she complained, Mr. Fuji would become offended and she would be punished…maybe even sent back to the U.S…. in shame. She was a little shocked at her own thoughts, but heck…it made sense. The gloves however, with the locks, were a different matter.
“I am simply curious as to the rationale…”her voice trailed off. Was she really talking? Was that her speaking, using phrases like “I am simply curious” and “as to the rationale”? She gave her head a shake. “Why the gloves Fuji-San?”
“Ms. Smith, we believe it is necessary that your hands be gloved while you are at baseball practice. Your manicure was very costly to OTTII and OTTII wants to protect its investment.” Mr. Fuji spoke very matter-of-factly.
“Huh?” Nicole’s mind was reeling ”practice? When?”
The short Asian man peered out the window, “I would say…three minutes”
Nicole almost fainted. This was it, her chance at the big leagues, possibly her only chance at the big leagues. How could she have missed it? When did they tell her? Why did she go to the stupid salon first when she could have been warming up?
The car rolled to a stop and door opened. Mr. Fuji got out first, Nicole followed, stumbling awkwardly as she stepped away from the car. She turned to walk up the hallway to the OTTII dome playing field and stumbled again. Something was wrong with her shoes. She looked down at to see what the matter was.
Her eyes grew large when she realized that someone had switched her shoes. It must have happened at the salon while she was being pampered. Though almost identical to the pink and white sneaker she had donned that morning, the inch and a half thick platform sole under the toe flared out to three inches at the heel, tilting Nicole forward. It was like wearing a pair of wedge-heeled shoes! Trying to contain her anger, Nicole turned to follow Mr. Fuji up the ramp, but instead her eyes locked on the mirror in front of her. “Oh-my-god”, was all that she could muster to say at the sight before her. Her hair had been lightened with streaks of blonde; her face was a tone paler then before and heavily made up with pink lips and cheeks, gaudy pink and blue eye shadow between delicately shaped arching brows and black lined eyes with long feathery lashes. The surprised expression on her face only served to amplify the ridiculous look, and coupled with her accentuated waist and raised heels, made her look like…like…she struggled to find the words. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as her emotions began to get the best of her.
“Nikko!” Mr. Fuji’s voice called down the hall to her, “Come now!” he ordered. Nicole pulled herself together. She had to go to practice. She had to prove herself to the team. This was her big chance and she could not fail. She could not let herself down. She could not let OTTII down.
And with that, she strode out onto the baseball diamond.