their cramped space. He bought her things, took her to dinner and the movies. Like Hiraku, Daniel was smart and had a good job. In the end, he would be someone good to settle down with, she just didn’t want to settle down yet. She wanted fun. So while Mei wasn’t in love with him yet, she was willing to throw him a bone now and then to keep the gravy train rolling.
“What can I do to keep you from roaming with other girls?” she giggled seductively. “Would this help?” Mei started slowly unbuttoning her white blouse. One by one, until her breasts were spilling out.
“It’s helping,” Daniel said, unable to hide his smile.
Without taking off her shirt, Mei undid her bra from behind and pulled it off; now, either side of her unbuttoned blouse just barely covered up her nipples, leaving the inside of her milk white curves visible.
Daniel felt his cock spring to life.
“I’m sorry if I upset you. You should punish me.” Mei turned and bent over the kitchen table, wondering if Daniel would really do something. Guys like Hiraku and Daniel dreamed big; their conservative upbringing bred wild desires. But they had trouble fulfilling those fantasies in the real world. Dreaming was easier.
Daniel looked around the apartment, half expecting his parents to come back early from work at the store. “Are you serious?” he said, choking on the words.
Mei flipped her skirt up, “Come find out.”
Mei whimpered into the cool night air. “This is not my life.”
But it was. She wanted to play the games, but she never suspected she could lose. Now, it was time to pay up. Eighteen and pregnant. Worst of all, she had no idea who the father was.
Although everyone had their suspicions, the whole building finally agreed: Mei was a whore. None of the guys would talk or look at her now, and her father was disgraced. Even the white boys from school, who loved to call Mei up, suddenly disappeared in just the three days since she informed everyone she was pregnant.
It was like a brush fire, she thought, the way information spread. How the mighty have fallen.
What surprised her the most was the reaction from the rest of her social world. Her world beyond the run- down barrio in which she lived. She loved hanging out with the American boys from school. And the American boys seemed to love her. In her mind, they fucked the right way, without shame. They way she thought sex should be. Hot and steamy, passionate. Mei thought it would be just her father, Daniel and the building who would shun her after the news. They were traditionalists; she was surprised to find that the Americans, the whites, she had so admired, were just as quick to drop a pregnant girl. With all their modern ways of thinking, it still seemed that no eighteen-year-old male wanted to get tied down with a pregnant girl. Perhaps they hadn’t shamed her the way the building had, but they dropped her just the same.
She chuckled softly from the hopeless irony. The baby was going to be white. She was sure of it. She’d only had sex with Daniel once and he was adamant about wearing a condom. Even the other day, after she bent over the table, had amounted to nothing but oral—same as with Hiraku. Maybe she would have had a chance if it was Daniel or Hiraku’s baby; but as it stood now, she was out. Daniel was furious, Hiraku was terrified that he’d caught some STD—not previously knowing that she’d been with a man—and all her father had given her was bus fare before he kicked her out.
“Be gone before sun down,” he had screamed.
That wasn’t love, Mei thought. Her father was just as bad as the other cultures he defamed. Just as bad as the genital mutilations in Africa, the honor killings in the Muslim religion… killing to preserve honor. She had to laugh. And America was just as bad; the death penalty: killing people for killing people.
It was her last thought before darkness washed over her. She didn’t even register the pain of being struck.
It was still dark outside when Mei’s eyes finally opened. Despite the moon, she could barely discern her surroundings. Her head throbbed and her mouth was dry; she tried to move but felt pressure on all sides of her body.
A shrill voice pierced her ears; Mei winced at the harsh Japanese dialect. She recognized her name and a few other words in the speech, but nothing concrete. She blinked, her vision started to clear, and in the moonlight she could make out several figures standing above her.
Above her?
Mei struggled again. Only her head moved; she tasted sand.
The voice cut her thoughts off, more Japanese words of hate. She caught her name again and the other words were for dishonor, and lechery, or unfaithful. She couldn’t be sure.
“Please, I’m sorry. Help me…” She tried switching to Japanese, struggling to pronounce her words correctly, hoping to reach her captors.
The voice ignored her pleas and continued. Mei knew that these people—five figures in all—, whoever they were, were from her building. She was still too dazed from the blow to her head to recognize the voice.
Could have been anyone, their faces were hooded, further scrambling the voice. Then Mei noticed that the figures were not just standing there; they were moving, but Mei couldn’t really be witnessing what she thought she saw.
She recognized another word, one that only the American boys had used. Something brand new in movies, perhaps? It was a B word.
Mei forced herself to concentrate, strained her eyes and focused. In horror she realized she was right, her captives were fondling themselves, masturbating as they shouted insults at her.
The B word again, Bukkake; but this time, Mei remembered what it was. She remembered just before the first hot load splattered across her face; the man grunted heavily.
“Please, no! Daniel is that—”
A second cry broke her words off and yet another jet of sticky sperm landed on her face; this one hitting her straight in the left eye.
“Aggh” she cried. It burned and blinking was doing nothing to relieve the pain. She wanted to wipe the spunk away, but there was no chance of her breaking free of her sand encasement.
Mei’s sanity shattered as three more loads of man juice, a substance she had once cherished, threatened to drown her. She thought it couldn’t get any worse; then, through sperm-stuck eyelids she saw the blade. It’s steel glinted in the moonlight; a razor sharp katana. Deep below the sand, Mei soiled herself with fear.
She remembered what Bukkake was, what it really was—or at least what it was rumored to be—, back in Feudal Japan.
It was more than just mass ejaculation. More than just public humiliation. Sometimes it even ended in death; death to those who were unfaithful, those who were sexually shameful—cheaters.
And despite what Mei told herself, she was a cheater.
Mei closed her eyes as the blade swiped across the sand. In her vision, the moon turned upside down—the last image on her retina—as her sperm-soaked head rolled across the sand, turning the soft white grains red.
About the Authors
James Beamon writes because he has to… and he can’t find anything worth watching on T.V. But he doesn’t need T.V. when his wife is a muse and his son is amused by the stuff he makes up. And the cat… well, the cat’s not a fan of speculative fiction but has learned to attack on command. James calls Virginia home but his IT work takes him all over the globe. A quick peek into his mind and latest projects can be found at http://fictigristle.wordpress.com
Kenneth Whitfield’s work has appeared in the comic anthologies:
