Nearly three months after September 11th, 2001, Josh Sehrer met two fallen angels, one Russian, the other Japanese, inside Tokyo's Narita airport. From there the two joined party with the human (mortal) Josh Sehrer, taking a train into Tokyo, saddened, no longer could they fly. In a back alley in Ueno, the angels told Josh Sehrer His Kingdom was to be Shibuya, led him into the train station, and pointed to what Josh Sehrer would memorize as a house with eyebrows.
11/29/01 - The Kingdom of King Josh Sehrer IIIIV of Japan
I was pushed, shoved out of the Yamanote line train bound for Shinjuku at a brief halt in Shibuya, and nearly trampled on. Regaining a lost balance I hurried across the platform. I found multiple exits, exited the station and started walking up one of the streets but nothing fitted it's description. I continued on, stopping only to run back to where I had turned from at times. Less and less people walked the same street as I and without a map, ended up wandereing into the redlight district part of Shibuya!
I nearly cried over the lovehotels, regular hotel rooms you are able to book for either a several hours "REST", or an entire night's "STAY", and the adorning signs that featured rooms engineered to have sex in. The reason this type of hotel is called a "lovehotel" is because of the significant amount of less time you are able to book a "lovehotel", than you could a regular hotel. On top of that, lovehotels are for couples only, and more likely than not the hours, in the "REST" option especially, are spent having sex.
I couldn't help but drool over all the hostess bars, what seemed like strip clubs, porn and sex (toy) shops.
It was still daylight, and already Japanese high school girls loitered about, many cutting class as working prostitutes still in their school's uniform, however most mini-skirts seemed safety pinned up to expose their butts, butts covered often by the simplest of white panties. The sight of this was beyond anything I had ever seen on television, prostitutes often had pimps in the movies, and it was clear to me that all of these school girls were running their own gambit. Several high school girls could even be seen on dates with well-dressed Japanese business types!
I continued to walk, as my surroundings progressed to nightclubs, bars, only the slimiest of dinning establishments, and head shops. Inside one of the head shops I learned that it was legal for the shop to sell hallucinogenic mushrooms, and how very appropriate I thought, in the birthplace of the Super Mario Bros..
I left the cluster of love hotels, 1 ups, and redlight perks to follow the crowds of people who seemed to all be going in the same direction. The space between buildings pushed out like a newborn's mother and I approached the Hachiko exit the angels had spoke of. I was in total amazement, it was like New York's Time Square commercial intersection multiplied by a thousand. I was floored by newly released hit-Japanese pop music, previews of unreleased video games leapt from the giant monitors down to me, and a sense of knowing I had found my Kingdom overwhelmed my body.
The new smells, taste of air, never before had I wanted to breathe so badly. To describe this place it'd share the beginnings of a ten dollar romance novel, I was at the Bosom of Abraham, having skipped the first few chapters to get to the nudity.
The only thing that kept me from feeling completely once-and-for-all at peace was the fact that I was fully aroused.
I crossed Shibuya's main intersection, causing my aroused penis to harden even greater, and entered Shibuya's Centergai, most famous for ko-gals or "ko gyaru". Ko-gals are a social clique of Japanese girls. Ko-gals share the western world's sorority girls' fake blonde hair, and fake tans. You can find the professional ko-gal models, more often than not, with plastic surgery done to their noses, cosmetic dental work, and other adjustments made to their bodies, making their appearance seem more American than most American girls! Centagai is often occupied by not just ko-gals, but "yamanba", and "ganguro" gals too. The two, like ko-gals, differ by the use of heavy make-up, and the coloring of hair more radically to Japanese standards than blonde. Ko-gals often wear their high school uniforms and loose socks. Yamanba, ganguro gals seem to dress only in the Alba Rosa and Cecil McBee brands. The easiest way to understand the Japanese school girl is that there's three kinds, a rural Tokyo school girl in normal socks, the inner-city school girl prostitutes in often dirty or stained loose socks, and finally the wealthy blonde ko-gal school girls in clean loose socks.
It was interesting to see that the school girl prostitutes strayed from Centergai, and how accordingly the ko-gals kept out of the redlight district Dogenzaka. I came upon a more wide open part of the square, and there raised up into the air before me, a large plastic McDonald's French fries!
I stood before the large plastic McDonald's French fries and couldn't tell if I was hungry or not. Years ago, I had played a video game for Nintendo called River City Ransom, in it hamburgers and other fried foods gave your character strength and status points. I walked into the McDonald's, immediately the song from River City Ransom filled my head, and with the idea of becoming stronger I ordered a Big Mac extra-value meal and McNuggets with BBQ sauce. I paid for the food, and as I waited on side the line of people ordering, I noticed that unlike a western McDonald's, the Japanese McDonald's didn't have any gross looking sixteen year olds, pipe bomb maker or school shooter types that came standard with American fast food chains. This presented itself a huge relief to me as the post-9 11 country I was fleeing had just let anthrax in the mail kill like a hundred thousand of it's own citizens.
After my food was called out, I picked up the tray, and walked up the flights of stairs until I reached the very top floor to get a good seat next to one of the windows.
The top floor of the McDonald's was a sight to be seen! It was as if I had found the ko-gals secret hideout! If it was kept secret by anything it was all the fucking cigarette smoke, but I wasn't going to let 2nd hand smoke or cancer get in the way of me getting pussy. I took a deep breath, probably not the smartest thing to do, and with steps that resembled those of a failed sobriety test, made my way over to a counter and large panel windows overlooking the streets of Tokyo.
I couldn't believe how many ko-gals were on the top floor, it was like something out of Gremlins 2: The New Batch. Each ko-gal had a perfect tan, beautiful blonde hair, and a mini-skirt. As the day turned to night from outside the window, I turned and watched as the ko-gals used the McDonald's to change out of their school uniforms and into more fashionable mini-skirts and revealing tops, taunting Winter with their show of skin.
Being in a room full of 1:10 scale supermodel Japanimation hybrids half-naked in the dead of Winter was manageable. What I had trouble getting past was each ko-gal, yamanba, ganguro, was staring, smiling, winking, and sending signals to me each time my eyes had crossed over their seating section like a ball park wave. People had told me my entire life that "Japanese girls" would "worship the ground" I walk if I flew to Tokyo, and it was true.
I felt a sense of relief, finished eating, got up off my stool, approached the trash cans, and watched and listened as every chair and spinal cord had shifted almost instantaneously in order to see where I was going. After disposing my garbage, I made my way back to the stairwell, and walking down it I was forced to endure the echoing cries from the top floor. "Kawaiiiiiiii iii", a ko-gal sniffed sadly. "Kakkoiii", another cried out to me. I made my way to the second floor, then out of McDonald's, and back out on to the streets.
After leaving McDonald's I made my way back to the redlight district. At the alley leading into the redlight district, I looked up, and saw a brightly lit yellow Pacman neon sign. I laughed, thinking nobody was ever going to believe this place. Suddenly, a girl's voice, a lot like the ones heard exiting the McDonald's, cried out to me! "Sumimasen! Sumimasen!" shouted four or five girls at the top of their lungs. I looked and saw a pack of ravenous blonde haired brown skinned hyenas making a mad dash towards me, reflected in each of their eyes a baby elephant with three broken legs.
"Please, tell me your names." I asked the ko-gals standing before me. "Ina." A ko-gal said stepping closer. "I was told by a Russian and Japanese fallen angel to come here." I said mercifully. Ina smiled and asked if I cared to join her and the ko-gals on their way to Club Asia P. "I have chartered these parts", I explained pointing up the hill I'd later hear referred to as the "lovehotel hill". "Let I, Josh Sehrer, lead you ko-gals of Centergai." I asked.
The ko-gals all clung to me, left all the touts in the redlight district Dogenzaka, envious I'm sure. I returned to the now much more crowded nightclub area. I had seen Club Asia earlier, and gathered that Club Asia P was near. Arriving at Club Asia P, one of the ko-gals took invites out of her purse, and gave one to each of us. I wasn't sure what my role was yet, and Ina noticing this, brought me to the guest manager, took my hands in hers, to present the invite to the manager. The guest manager took the invite, and asked for 1,000 yen, no more than $7 dollars. Before I paid, everyone instructed me to, in Japan, use both hands when giving one money. I was then told by the ko-gals that with the invites, the ko-gals and I had skipped the regular 3,500 yen charge at the door to get in, and not just that, each of us also received a drink token worth 500 yen!
After being allowed inside, the ko-gals and I set out further in to Club Asia P. From inside I was escorted to a table the ko-gals surrounded me at, and appeared to be studying my face like they had never seen a person before.
After several trips to and from the bar with all the ko-gals, the Japanese MCs who were rapping finished their performance, and a Japanese DJ started playing break beats. Ina noticing how into the music I was, asked if I could breakdance. I didn't even respond. I took all the change out of my pockets, and got up, with the ko-gals looking on in awe at everything I was doing. I left the table, and made my way to the dance floor.
On the step before the dance floor I looked around at the club's design, and could hear the ko-gals from my table, the ko-gals shouted words of encouragement down to me. It was a smaller venue, and the tables, bar, everything, was facing the dance floor on a platform design.
I then noticed that there were tons of other people on the left and center side while we had been on the right, though not a single person was on the dance floor.
The song changed, I stepped down onto the dance floor, and approached it's center, being watched by everyone in the club. I paced the ground for about five seconds until the beat came around, caught it, did every crowd pleaser I had in my arsenal, and finished it off with my signature crooked shoulder stall without making any mistakes. I continued to hold the stall in place for the DJ to drop the beat, everyone in the club yelled and screamed as the move looks really painful, the DJ flipped the record, and I walked off, back to my table, victorious.
Half of the other Japanese girls in the nightclub walked over to our table, asking the ko-gals about me, though I couldn't understand what was being said. However, I knew Ina had put the claim to me.
I leaned over to one of the five ko-gals I came in with, and asked her if she'd join me at the bar.
At the bar, I could tell by looking at the ko-gal joining me, she had not yet done anything one on one like this ever in her entire life. I ordered a screwdriver full of vodka, the ko-gal her drink, the bartender poured a shot of tequila after he finished making our drinks, and yelled "kompai!"
I stumbled back to the table, leaning on the ko-gal. At the table, the two of us found Ina, now by herself. Ina darted out at the ko-gal I had gone to the bar with in Japanese, feverishly. The ko-gal got up, and left our table to the dance floor all the ko-gals had moved to, on Ina's orders.
Ina explained she was the ko-gal boss, but more than anything, she wanted to belong to me. Ina crawled on to the top of me, her breathing off like she was hyperventilating, and raped me in Club Asia P until I cummed in her.
12/06/01 - Adventures in cloth mail
I woke up at Akiyama Saori's apartment in the sleepy Musashi-Koganei part of Tokyo, Japan. Several towels on Saori's bed reminded me of how much of a mess the two of us made. I sat up, the amount of blood, human faeces, vaginal fluids, semen and urine brought new meaning to "playing doctor". I looked over and saw the clothes I had worn the night before in a scattered pile against the door leading to her living space.
Akiyama Saori woke up, her naked skin stained by both of our blood. The Osiris scout belt I had worn's built-in bottle opener had made a fine incision across the shaft jutting out from the top of my pants, but had since nighttime, healed.
I grabbed hold of Saori, turning her from off her back and tongued her butthole. Western faeces are repulsive, but the Japanese diet faeces tastes like food, it can't be put in the same category as "shit", "poop" or "crap" and I even have trouble writing it out as "faeces". Saori moaned loudly as I caught wiff of her period's rusted water pipe odor and continued jarring my tongue deep into her butthole.
Yesterday evening, Akiyama Saori, the girls who's spread buttcheeks my face was pressed against, took me to a boutique, and I wouldn't go in. Saori became aggravated, demanding to know why I wouldn't go in. I told her because I didn't belong in such a nice looking store and that I couldn't speak French (what I meant was that I didn't know what a "boutique" was). Saori grabbed me by the arm, dragged me in, to a pair of designer jeans and asked if they were her. I reached for the price-tag reluctantly and was shocked to learn how expensive the jeans cost. "I shouldn't be in here!" I exclaimed running out of the store. Saori came to where I stood freighted, and opened up about the day I met her. The day I met Akiyama Saori, I was in Shibuya with Ina being taught the do's and dont's to ruling Japan. Saori went on and on, I couldn't help but be reminded of Ina apologizing for how she acted at Club Asia P, making her wanting to bare my children understood by pantomime and how I learned that birth control had not become a widely used form of contraception in Japan.
Saori recounted aloud how she had stalked Ina and I together in Shibuya, hours before handing me a piece of graphing paper with her phone number on it. "Ina might be pregnant with our child." I made a point of saying.
"The ko-gals you like don't have any money." Saori begged, but neediness in her voice only magnified the thoughts I was having about Shibuya and what Ina the ko-gal boss had warned me of.
I put on the pair of Ralph Lauren denim jeans I had worn, a red Osiris Shoes t-shirt, socks, Elenex hat, and knew something, but I couldn't remember what, was missing. A sleeve peeking out of the bed covers, jogged my memory. I walked back over to the bed, and pulled the t-shirt out. The white t-shirt was soaked in the array of bodily fluids I wrote about. I had somehow forgotten to throw the t-shirt across the room with the rest of my clothes.
I folded the t-shirt in my hands in such a way that it hid the stains. I planned to leave with the shirt and properly dispose of it elsewhere. I didn't have a backpack and the t-shirt was too large in size to fit into one of my pant's pockets.
Unaware of me carrying a shirt covered in her faeces, Saori walked me to the train station and kissed me goodbye. I didn't have faeces on my lips but the incision stung as I hardened over thoughts Saori might've tasted it. I made my way in to the steady stream of morning rush-hour commuters, past the toll booth and I boarded the JR (read "JR", not "junior") train.
If you ever get the chance to ride Tokyo's JR train, you'll find that the best place to sit is at the end of a row of seats, against the rail so that you can sleep until you arrive at the stop. I was able to score the prized seat but I didn't sleep, just rested against it. In the Winter here it is as if heaters are placed above and below certain seats to spread heat throughout the train, and I had apparently sat above one. The heat, not meant to burn passengers, was so intense that the Ralph Lauren jeans I was wearing, and the folded t-shirt I held, both felt they were coming out of an oven.
It was the full train I was hoping not to get, I was unable to move, about ten minutes the crowded train seemed to smell differently, it was unbelievable! It was as if the blood, human faeces, vaginal fluids, semen and urine had sweated out of the t-shirt and into the air we had to breathe. The train cart was smelling more and more like a honeymoon suite!
Japan is one of the cleanest countries you could ever go to, so clean that the Japanese sort their trash. If I had thrown the t-shirt away at Saori's apartment, I was afraid her finding it might change her mind about doing it again. I knew both of us were already planning in our heads, on doing it again. The shirt was disgusting. Sure, the Japanese on the train might have very well been entertained but I wanted to get rid of it. I couldn't remember ever seeing a public trash can before Nishi-Hachioji.
At Nishi-Hachioji, I threw the shirt into the miscellaneous trash. To truly describe how bad the t-shirt looked and smelled, after I threw it away, I had to find a bathroom in the train station to wash my hands!
Two nights later I was on the train platform at Nishi-Hachioji to get to Shinjuku, and saw homeless-looking Japanese sorting through the same miscellaneous trash bin I threw the t-shirt away in. I wasn't too concerned, for I had recently bought a underage Japanese schoolgirl's used pair of panties (or "pantsu" as the Japanese call it) from a vending machine. I figured, if anything, I was about to make someone's day.
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