Silence of the Geisha Horror: Yukis Revenge (3 page)

“Please, call me Buck.”

“Thank you,” She murmured, dipping her head again. “Mr. Buck.”

He escorted me out of the club, and I made sure to nod to security before we left. The administration did their best to make sure all their girls were safe. After all, a hurt or dead girl was not going to be bringing in any clientele. But still, accidents could happen. Someone could be bought off. Of course every hostess had heard horror stories, but all we could do was pray that all our precautions worked and we didn't just become some statistic in a college feminist's report on sexual exploitation.

Just as she thought he would, Buck led her to an extremely nice sports car that probably cost the same as her med school tuition. The perfect gentleman, he opened the passenger side door and let her in.

Yuki took quick inventory of his car as he crossed around to his own side. No duct tape, copious amount of alcohol, rope, or any other warning sides. They were doing well so far.

“Ready?” He asked, once they were both in and settled.

“Ready.”

And of course he was an aggressive driver. Yuki had been on many dates, and it always seemed that the bigger the pocketbook, the riskier the operator. She personally
hated
road rage and super dominating drivers, but she had learned over time to hide her reactions.

Instead of flinching, wincing, or hissing in disapproval, she maintained

polite conversation as Buck inquired about her life an experiences all around NYC. She gave him canned answers, of course. She would never reveal her real life of school and apartment living. Not only would it ruin the illusion of Sakura, but it was incredibly dangerous. A hostess never let her clientele figure out where she lived, went to school, or worked if she had a second job. That was practically like inviting stalkers to boil your bunnies or burn your place down.

“I have to say, I’m relieved you’re not one of those girls who’s constantly attached to her phone.”

“While having such mobile entertainment is nice, I find that having it out during engagements is only distracting, and robs me of the moment. I prefer to be present.”

“You’re very well-spoken.”

“Why thank you, Buck. But one must wonder if you think I am well-spoken for a human, well-spoken for a woman, or well-spoken for a hostess. Such a compliment carries many meanings.”

He laughed outright at that, and Yuki was relieved that she was able to keep the conversation moving. Very little was worse than stagnant air on a date. Although over talking could be just as annoying.

“After spending so much time in the court, the legalese wears off on you. I meant that you are quite well-spoken, and perhaps that is more surprising because of your youth.”

“I will take that as a compliment then.” She paused for a moment, letting the conversation natural ebb before switching topics. “Have you been in our humble city for long?”

“Just a couple of days, but I’ll be here for quite a while. I’m helping put together an event. Organizing and planning. Always exciting stuff.”

“It must be if it is an event big enough to have you traveling to a different country. I look forward to reading about it in the paper.”

“I’m surprised someone your age even knows where to find a newspaper.”

“But of course, what else am I going to read while I charge my phone and tablet while drinking my one thousand calorie coffee.”

He laughed again, a rich, booming sound. “You are almost too smart for your own good.”

“This is not the first time I have be accused of such.”

They arrived before the conversation grew dry, and he pulled into the valet line. Once he handed the keys over to an employee and took his ticket, he came to my side of the door and helped me out. As he escorted me in, I could tell multiple eyes were on us. We certainly were a pair. A tiny, spritely Asian woman in dramatic make up, and a clean cut, middle aged gentleman in an impressive suit who had at least a hundred pounds on me.

“I hope you have no allergies.” He murmured, pulling my chair out for me once we were at our table.

“None other than bees.”

“Well I'm make sure to avoid any bee-related appetizers.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

The waitress came over before they could continue their witty banter, offering the couple specials, and wines, and all those wonderful up charges that restaurants lived for.

“We'll take the Sauvignon Blanc, the oyster appetizer. I will have the lobster and fugu, while the lady here will enjoy the tuna steak with the house salad.”

Yuki bit her tongue at his ordering for her without asking her opinion on any of the dishes. She was sure he just wanted to impress her with his inherent knowledge of the high life, but she had been on many a date, with many a men, and the blatant throwing around of money had long since stopped being awe-inspiring.

“I would like a glass of water, as well, if you don't mind.” She cut in at the last moment. The waitress nodded and departed. Yuki had made the request for two specific reasons. One, it showed that while she would play the part of a demure and submissive Asian woman, she still had a voice and could speak for herself. Two, she tried to avoid drinking much alcohol while working. She would drink from the water when actually thirsty, and merely sip from the wine to be courteous. She found the strategy worked quite well for not insulting her clients who had purchased the expensive drink for her, but also protecting her faculties.

“So, what is it like, being a judge?”

The corner of his lip turned up. “It's a lot of responsibility. Deciding who's right, who's wrong. When you preside over a court of law, you're basically the voice of justice. You have to make sure it's not being abused, or taken advantage of.”

“It certainly sounds like quite a burden. I would not want such troublesome duties.”

He let out a lilting laugh. “True, I suppose your duties are usually of the more...pleasurable variety.”

She gave him another shy smile, feigning a blush. “I have been trained in the art of aesthetic by retired Geisha and masters, pleasing the eyes and soul with something as simple as pouring tea.”

“And what about matters of the flesh? These poor meat bags that we're stuck in every day?”

She lowered her gaze, fluttering her lashed. Her biography made very clear that she was not available for any... extra curricular activities, but sometimes clients just didn't get the hint. She found it was best to get it out in the open as soon as possible, rather than stringing them throughout the date. “I am thoroughly trained in relieving tension from the head, next, and shoulders with a massage, but that is all the matters of the flesh that I deal with.”

His expression flickered darkly for just a moment, before the brilliant smile was back in its place. “I'm sure such limitations are as flexible as your limbs.”

“No, Mr. Buck.” She said it sweetly, but firmly. She would rather infuriate him now and order a cab home, then lose a whole night and end up in a car with an angry man. “You'll find that I am very, very strict when it comes to my art. If you are looking for an artist of the more carnal side of art, I can make a recommendation and have her here before your entree -no extra charge, of course.”

“Well aren't you just the most gracious thing.”

“Not a thing, Mr. Buck, sir. Just a woman who was trained under very strict rules to maintain my chi and connections to our ancestor spirits.”

“I see.”

The conversation faltered for a moment, and she wondered if she should cancel the date anyways. But she would lose out on a solid grand, as well as possibly forfeiting a potential wealthy regular.

“I would like to use the ladies room, if you wouldn’t mind. Powder my nose and all that.”

He waved his hand at her. “By all means, go.”

She nodded and sashayed to the restroom. Once she was safe from his gaze, the slumped again the wall. For a moment there, the tension had been thick enough to cut with a knife. She was glad she was able to pull through, but she was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

Then again, abandoning a date in the middle would be terrible for her numbers. Even if management always
said
they were all about women’s safety, it was no secret that a particularly vehement complaint from a client could sink a girl’s ship very quickly.

She paced for a few minutes, trying to calm her nerves and get back into the flawless calm of Sakura, the mystic geisha. Once she felt she had at least some semblance of composure, she patted down her face with some toilet paper and then headed back out.

Buck looked at ease when she joined him at the table, and she noticed their appetizer had arrived. He smiled, and served her one of the delicacies, before lifting his glass in a toast.

“To travel,” He said. “And making new friends to last a life time.”

“To travel and friendship,” She agreed, clinking her glass to his before drinking a mouthful. It was delicious, that was for sure, but she was determined not to drink too much more. She was beginning to think that she would need to have all of her senses at optimum levels to deal with this swaggering English judge.

“So, other than the great burden of justice you carry, what do you do when you are not saving the day?”

That got him smiling again. “Like I’ve said, I like to travel, explore. I thoroughly enjoy tasting
everything
a city has to offer.”

“How cultured of you,” She murmured, ignoring the blatant innuendo.

“I try my best. I find stagnation to be the death of many things. Progress, morale, an ambitious man.”

“It is a funny contradiction, isn’t it; that humans fear change so much, but require that same change not to go mad?”

“Very philosophical of you, Sakura.”

“I do enjoy such conundrums. They can turn the most banal day into an exciting mystery.”

“And do you enjoy excitement, Miss Sakura?”

“I have indulged in the occasional thrill, but I hardly pursue adrenaline like some adventurers. I prefer to read legends of exploits rather than live through them myself.”

“You’re a cautious woman.”

“I prefer to think of myself as an intellectual and entertainer, rather than the hero of a tale.”

“And interesting way to market yourself.”

“Everyone wants an oracle, few want an attacker.”

“How astute.”

And then their entrees arrived and the two slipped into a comfortable silence as they ate the rich food.

They finished the fare quickly enough and soon he was escorting her out. They pulled out onto the main drag, and Yuki realized that they were not going the direction the club was in.

“Do you need me to turn on the gps, Mr. Buck?”

“No. I know what I'm doing.”

“Pardon, I do not mean to insult. I must have gotten turned around, because I swore the club was in the other direct-”

“Relax, I got this.” He snapped.

Yuki shrunk back in her seat, surprised at the sudden change in tone from respectful gentleman to condescending asshole. She looked out the window to see they were on the highway, still going away from the club.

“I'm not sure if mother explained the rules to you, but we are to return directly to the club after our date finishes. Should you wish to schedule more events, which can be done through the lobby telephone.”

“I've tastes escorts from every corner of the world. I know the rules, Sakura.”

“I am not an escort, Mr. Buck. I am a hostess. I'm sure someone as cultured as you knows the difference.”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

“No, not tomato, tomahto. I do not sleep with my clients. Please return me to the club immediately.” They pulled off an exit with tall trees on either side. Yuki's alarm bells started to ring and she pulled at the handle of the door.

The child safety lock was engaged.

“Mr. Buck. I do not find this amusing. Please, return me to the club, this instant.”

“Calm yourself. Look, I'm slowing down. Take a breath.”

They were indeed slowing down, but he was pulling into a secluded, wooded area. She was certain that they had to be at the very outskirt of the city.

Eyes darting around, she saw two figures emerge from the treeline. Dark, and foreboding. She tried to formulate some sort of threat, or bribe, but no words came out. Why did she suddenly feel so dizzy? And warm? And why were her limbs suddenly so heavy.

“You...you drugged me,” She gasped, breathily.

“Just relax. Don't fight it.”

The edges of her world grew fuzzy, then dark. She pawed at the door again, as if it would magically open for her, but it didn't give way before she fell into darkness.

*

42% of raped women expect to be raped again.

Consciousness hit her like a ton of bricks, but her body wouldn't rouse as quickly as her mind. Her thoughts raced, a jumble of pictures and fragmented thoughts, but her eyes struggled to open.

“Hey, look who joined the world of the living.”

She groaned, and tried to stretch out, but her limbs were locked into place. After several moments, she gathered enough coherency to realize she was tied up, and in a truck, with three figures looming over her.

“What...?” She groaned, blinking rapidly. She caught the glint of something metallic and glassy in the corner of her vision. Was...was that a camera?

“Shhh, Sakura. It's okay. How are you feeling?”

“Mr. Buck?” She moaned. “What...what's going on? Who are these people?”

“Ah, how could I be so rude. Sakura, this is Jean-Luc and Thomas. Friends of mine that wanted to meet you.”

“I...I don't understand. I want to go home.”

His hand lashed out before she could react, and a power smack sent her crashing deeper into the trunk.

The trio of man laughed, while Yuki struggled to take in everything that was happening. The drugs were wearing off but she was still having a difficult time holding onto longer trains of thought.

“Stop, please. I'm sorry for whatever I did. Please let me go home.”

“Home? But we planned a whole night together. Aren't you excited?”

“What? No, please...I...I don't want to.”