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
Sandra McMillan was ambitious. Others might call her a flaming bitch from hell with an ego the size of a football field, but what they referred to as back stabbing and throat cutting, she referred to as "ambition". So when she caught wind of the story of another woman trying to make it in the male-dominated sports industry, it was given that she would follow up on it.
Calling her old pal Len Dawson had been a real treat. Every since he had called the ASN C.E.O. to try and get her fired for calling him a "chauvinistic dinosaur that was out of touch with the twenty-first century", she had been looking for the perfect payback. And now, as if by some divine intervention, the stars aligned and she found herself looking down the barrel at that son-of-a-bitch. Payback would be a bitch...a bitch called Sandy Macmillan.
Dawson's interference had cost her a promotion. Instead of moving to the coveted spot of co-anchor on SPORTSCommand, ASN's primetime sports newscast, and the most watched show of its kind in the country, she was the host of the weekend show, and would fill in for others when they were sick.... when they were sick!
The story of Nicole Smith could be her ticket to the big time, especially if that feeling in her gut was right. Something was going on, she didn't know what, but something was going on. Len had sounded extremely uncomfortable talking about Nicole on the phone. Usually he would be cursing and swearing at Sandra, but this time he was sweet and kind. The man was an ass, there had to be a reason for his change in tone.
And then there was the phone calls to Japan, and this "OTTII" team's initial refusal to do an in person interview. Eventually, after Sandra's repeated hounding, a reluctant agreement to an interview via satellite was made, but it would be short, and it had to happen soon. Sandra would work into the night on the questions she would ask the young female baseball protégé, for an interview that would occur in the early morning hours (U.S. time). She hoped that Nicole would come right out and blast the whole system for being a bunch of sexist pigs, writing questions that would practically guarantee such a response. A smile crept across her face as she continued to write.
Luck was on Mr. Fuji's side. A day later, and the nosey American sports reporter could have ruined everything. A day later, and at minimum Nicole Smith would have been sporting a pair of enormous breasts, too big to hide from the camera. Two days later and Nicole Smith would be bandaged from head to hip, and bed ridden for weeks as she recovered. Mr. Fuji had been lucky.
There was still time to fool the reporter. A crew from the beauty salon had been called in to remove her extended nails, and fit Nicole with a light brown wig that would resemble her original hair. They would have to script Nicole's responses and help her practice her English. Months of conditioning had left Nicole's ability to converse in her one-time native tongue in poor shape. At one point she was starting to sound like a Japanese girl trying to speak her "vely best Engrish". So the day would be spent trying to temporarily reverse some of what OTTII had worked so hard to do. They had worked so hard to erase Nicole Smith and replace her with OTTII Nikko and now, for one day only, they would have to bring back Nicole Smith.
The "prep" crews worked right up until the camera's started to roll. From the side, Okimi Fujiama watched intently as the interview began. Through monitors and microphones, Sandra and Nicole began to chit-chat about Nicole's experiences in Kobe. Sandra's instincts were right, something was odd. The young American ball-player was way too cheerful and perky. She had pulled out old interviews from the previous years, to study Nicole's mannerisms and to try to get inside her head. The girl that she was speaking to, was completely different. But how could she prove it?
When Sandra asked Nicole if she thought she would be returning to the U.S. to play in the MLB anytime soon, the answer was very...rehearsed. "I hope that my skills will improve to the point where I will be a valuable part of the OTTII Proton All-Stars Team", Nicole replied.
"That's not what I asked Nicole," Sandra said, "Do you think you will be coming home anytime soon?"
Nicole smiled for the camera, reading the teleprompter just below it, "I am very happy to be playing here in Japan Ms. McMillan. I will remain here as long as the members of my team require my services."
What the hell did that mean? Sandra wondered. She could taste blood in the water, and began to move in for a kill. "So you aren't planning to return to the U.S. to follow your dream of playing ball in the big leagues?"
Nicole paused for a moment. "OTTII has been very helpful, and trained me well, and I feel that I owe them a debt of gratitude. I hope that I will remain in Japan for a long time so that I may repay my debt to them."
Mr. Fuji was getting anxious. On the last two responses, she had gone off the teleprompter and ad-libbed her answer. He looked at Nicole then motioned with his eyes for her to read the text that was written for her.
"I am very pleased to be playing for OTTII. OTTII has been very helpful and they have trained me well."
Sandra studied Nicole's face. Is she reading from a prompter? She saw the girl's eyes flash to the side of the camera repeatedly.
"Nicole? What are they doing to you down there? You don't sound like yourself. Is everything okay?"
Sandra watched Nicole's reaction. She stared blankly at the camera, until her eyes shot to the right of the lens again. "My treatment in Japan has been far superior to that which I received from any team I have been associated with in the United States. I really do love it here."
"Nicole? Are you reading your answers from a teleprompter? Are they telling you what to say?"
Nicole's permanent smile turned to a look of confusion. She looked off camera at Mr. Fuji, as if to say "what do I say?"
The teleprompter flashed her response. Nicole smiled then offered a fake yawn as she spoke, "I am very tired Ms McMillan. I hope that I have answered your questions. I must be off to my morning practice"
And with that the satellite feed went dead.
Sandra was furious. She ran to the control room shouting "What happened? What Happened? Where'd she go?!" The technicians all scrambled to reconnect, but the feed had been cut at the point of transmission, at the OTTII media center. Sandra's mind was racing. She had never seen any like the interview she had just completed. Her producer agreed that it was strange, and even though she had awakened him at such an ungodly hour, he would approve her going to Japan with a crew to follow up on this story.
Sandi was on cloud nine. Something was happening here, this "OTTII" company was up to something...Len Dawson was up to something. This could be her "big" story. The one that puts her back in good graces with the Network executives...the one that will get her an anchor position at "SportsCommand". She smiled as she rushed home to pack her bags. Her flight to Kobe, Japan was in three hours.
On her way to the OTTII medical centre Nicole was aglow. She had done well in her interview according to Fugi-San, and she would now be rewarded with what she wanted more than anything in the world...breasts. Not just breasts, not just augmentation...but what American men would refer to as boobies, tits or funbags. And not just big ones...not for this future star of the OTTII Proton Baseball Organization...not for OTTII Nikko, no...they would be huge. She wanted it that way. It all seemed so clear to her now. She had been learning and practicing for weeks, months even, preparing herself, conditioning herself. But now, this time it all made sense. Nikko want big boobies, she thought to herself, Nikko need big boobies.
Mr. Fuji smiled at her, knowing full well what she was daydreaming of. Knowing that she would wake up a day later, wrapped in bandages from head to toe, and be forever a new person. If you could even call her that. A person had thoughts and goals and freedom. OTTII Nikko would eventually have an almost empty head with only one single thought...a desire to please, and freedom would no longer be a word in her vocabulary. Indeed, once the conditioning was finished, and her vocabulary, especially her English vocabulary would be reduced to the simple basics required for a girl of her position. She would, in effect, be more of an item then a person...more of an object that a woman. She would be exactly as OTTII wanted her to be.
A product.
And so, as all objects undergo a phase of "fabrication" whereby a raw material is manipulated so as to become the finished product, Nicole Smith, raw material, arrived at the OTTII Medical Center. She was rushed into a bright room and told to change into a hospital gown. Moments later she would be rolled through a CT Scanner to map her bone and muscular structure, and mate it to the Three-Dimensional photography what had been done of her naked form.
The doctor and his staff, with Mr. Fuji's guidance, would then chose how and what on her body to manipulate, running computerized tests using the 3-D computer models. She would need to look Asian, but not too Asian. Cartoonish, but not too cartoonish. She would need to retain some semblance of her origins as a young American woman, but not too much. The medical team would spend several long hours deciding on how to proceed, and finally, with a nod from Okimi Fujiama, the final proposal was accepted, and Nicole was laid back on a gurney and anesthetized. She saw Mr. Fuji standing on the other side of the glass that separated the surgical theatre from the control room, and waved to him. It would be the last thing that Nicole Smith saw.
Hours after Okimi had watched Nicole's final wave, his cell phone rang. Oh no...he thought, not again. It was the security guard at the entrance to the medical center. There was an American reporter with a camera crew there, and she had many, many questions. He hung up the phone and gazed out beyond the glass, to where the Doctor and his team were working. He had to think quickly. He had instructed the guard at the front entrance to move the reporter into a private waiting room, but the camera crew was not permitted to join her. He would then implement a makeshift plan to cover assuage the reporter's rampant curiosity, and quickly.
Sandra McMillan had been sitting for an eternity when the door finally opened, and a smiling man, in a sharply tailored suit greeted her.
"Ah, Ms McMillan," Okimi would lay on the charm...extra thick, he would only have one opportunity to pull this off. " I am so sorry that you had to wait so long. My name is Okimi Fujiama, liaison for the OTTII Corporation." He extended his hand to her, which she graciously accepted and shook. "It seems that you're timing is very bad. We had a most unfortunate occurrence after Ms. Smith concluded her interview with you. It seems that she was being transported to a special team function, when her limousine was involved in an automobile accident." Sandra felt her smile dissolve. "She sustained many serious injuries, but none are life threatening. Fortunately, OTTII has one of the finest plastic surgeons in all of Asia on staff at our medical center. But I am afraid that she will not be able to be seen by anyone for some time."
Sandra opened her mouth to speak, "Have you..." Mr. Fuji cut her off, "We have of course notified her family who I anticipate will be here shortly, " he lied.
Sandra's journalistic skills to a back seat to her compassion for the injured girl...but only for a moment, "Did you say plastic surgeon?"
This time it was Mr. Fuji's smile that would dissolve. He had hoped that she would simply accept what he was telling him, without question. He did not have the time nor the patience to be questioned by this insolent American female. "Many of Ms. Smith's injuries will require a degree of cosmetic surgery. It is nothing out of the ordinary, I can assure you. Now, if you will excuse me..." , with that, he was off, leaving the young reporter to fume at his responses.
Something was up...and Sandra was determined to find out.
While she made notes in her hotel room early that morning, the OTTII prepared to purchase a controlling interest in the American Sports Network, the moment the New York Stock Exchange opened. The talk radio stations would be ablaze with angry callers, complaining about the "Japs" buying up their beloved American Sports Institutions. What they didn't realize, was the more insidious reasoning behind the acquisition.
Seiji Herakini had a zero tolerance policy for failure...especially with OTTII's "special" projects. When Okimi Fujiama had called him the night before, to update him on the status of American reporter who could jeopardize the completion of his latest "special" project, the wheels were set in motion, as the saying goes. OTTII would take control of ASN to insure that the reporter, Sandra McMillan would cease to threaten the completion of what Seiji liked to refer as the Nikko project.
And so when Sandra called New York later that day, she would learn that her crew was flying back to the states, but she was staying in Japan to work as the "Asian Correspondent" for American Sports Network. She cursed and swore and vowed to get even with Len Dawson for screwing her over yet again....but with few options available to her, she would grudgingly accept her new position and reported for work in Tokyo that same morning.
When Seiji Herkani learned of her acceptance of her new position, he was pleased. His newest project...The Sankeiko project had begun.