Tokyo - October 1989

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  • Dedicated to The Love of My Life - Karen
                                    

Tokyo October 1989

 

The hand was inside her panties. The fingers were intrusive and persistent and continued to move back and forth for several seconds. She remained motionless and expressionless even as the finger began to penetrate her.  Inwardly she cursed herself for not wearing pantyhose.

She was Keiko Matsui born of Japanese Samurai and reaction to an invasion of this kind was beneath her dignity and not worthy of reaction - normally! 

This kind of perverse occurrence happened all the time on the crowded subway trains of central Tokyo. These trains were so packed that your arms were more often than not pinned to your sides. The men so inclined made sure their hands were placed inappropriately whenever it took their fancy. The women and girls seldom if ever reacted. The perverted men of the city got away with sexual abuse constantly and unpunished.

Paradoxically it was safe in any part of Tokyo for young girls and boys of primary and junior secondary school age to take the subway or walk home alone late at night. Women walking alone at night were completely safe and never accosted or threatened in any way. The only folks who were attacked in this metropolis were the more dubious Arabs who came in their thousands to beg on the streets and hang out in Shinjuku at night. This made life difficult for those from the Middle East who were genuine businessmen and in casual dress indistinguishable for their more deviant countrymen.

On this occasion the perpetrator was an American soldier – no doubt about it. Her reaction was intentional but spontaneous. As the fingers continued to move on her, she released her bladder and soaked the invading hand in urine.

The hand withdrew immediately as if scalded and the surprised soldier yelled out an expletive curse in her direction and raised another hand to slap her.

This was the first motion or indication of trouble that Bill Douglas became aware of. Standing beside her at the bar, he had been ordering the gin and tonic she'd requested, as well as a cold Sapporo beer for himself.

As the soldier's slap progressed the short distance between them, Douglas intervened, halted the advancing blow in its tracks, broke every finger on the offending hand and with no hesitation hit the American soldier so hard in his throat that he went down like a concrete block, hitting his head on the bar as he fell, and cracking his forehead open.

The reactions of the asshole's friends were predictable in the aftermath. They circled the woman and her escort at the bar. Menacing, drunk and seeking revenge for their fallen colleague, they were in a pretty ugly frame of mind.

Douglas stood motionless and instructed Keiko to leave the bar and wait for him outside. The on shift barman leapt the intervening counter and in no uncertain terms explained to the three slobbering US Servicemen what was likely to happen to them should they decide to take further aggressive action on his friend Bill Douglas. An ex Israeli Special Forces Officer himself, he was in no mood to have his bar further destroyed by these inebriated pricks on so called leave.

He suggested that they pick up their fallen pal, and carry him outside into the street, or face the explosive wrath of the combined and lethal talents that he and Douglas possessed. We’ll take no prisoners” was all he said.

Douglas had still no idea of what had provoked the incident with Keiko and at that point was breathing slowly and deeply and concerned now with getting Keiko and continuing their night's enjoyment. It was just as well that his knowledge was limited or none of the three remaining Americans would have walked away that night carrying the bleeding soldier between them.

So it ended as quickly as it had started and Private First Class Dawson of the bleeding head, sore throat and wet and broken hand was carried away into the night.

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