This is a work of fiction. It features misogyny, humiliation, lesbianism and reluctant sex. If these themes upset you, this story is not for you.
Pop Tart
Prologue
The two young women sat quietly at the small table, both of them staring out the large window at the magnificent ocean view. Their hands were clasped atop the table, fingers intertwined in the way that lovers do.
The large opulent bar was mostly empty. It was mid-afternoon and still too early for the Happy Hour crowd. It was quiet enough to talk, although it seemed the two women were content to simply enjoy each other's company.
The taller of the pair was Jen. She was of Scots-Irish extraction and had a full mane of glorious red hair that tumbled down over her slender shoulders. Her fair freckled face combined with her hair left little doubt as to what part of the world her ancestors had come from. Her light summer dress complimented her ample chest and long legs.
The origins of the second woman were less obvious. That she was Asian was clear, but most people couldn't guess at her birthplace without a few clues. She called herself Chisa Monday, which was not necessarily a name anyone would recognize as from the Far East. Her taste in fashion was thoroughly Americanized. She wore a tight t-shirt that clung to her small compact body and a pair of similarly tight denim jeans. On her feet were an expensive pair of Nike sneakers.
"Chisa?" Jen asked, interrupting the silence. "May I ask you something?"
The smaller woman nodded.
"Anything," she said, her smile wide.
Jen smiled back.
"You said that when you were back in Japan, you had to do some things that you weren't proud of." The redhead cleared her throat nervously. "Would it be okay if we talked about that a little bit? I want to get to know you better and I think it would help me a lot."
Chisa blushed deeply and her brow furrowed.
"I... I can talk about it... with you... if you want," she replied. "But I need you to keep what I say private. I've been working so hard to put that life behind me."
"Of course!" Jen nodded. "I mean, I can tell that you are working your butt off to change. You still have a slight accent but your English is almost perfect! You sound like you've been here for two decades, not just two years!"
Chisa dimpled prettily.
"Thank you. I started studying English when I was still in middle school. I'm happy to hear that you think I don't mess it up too badly."
"Hell no, girl!" the redhead exclaimed. "You sound like someone whose parents were immigrants, like you're a 1st generation American. You don't sound at all like some FOB noob."
The Japanese woman bobbed her head politely, acknowledging Jen's compliments. She was rapidly falling for the tall Irish beauty and she was prepared to share her past, albeit with some events omitted and others edited. Chisa wasn't ready to tell anyone the whole truth, at least not yet.
"Do you know what a gravure idol is, Jen-san?" Chisa asked softly, trying to avoid being overheard by anyone other than her new lover.
"They're like models, right?" Jen asked. "Bikini models, mostly."
"Something like that," Chisa confirmed. "They are usually teenaged girls who pose provocatively in bikinis and lingerie and schoolgirl uniforms. Photos are published in magazines targeted at young men and lewd video discs are available in bookstores."
Jen made a face.
"Boys masturbate to those magazines, don't they? Men are so gross!"
Blushing, the Japanese girl nodded.
"That's the good part of the job," she explained. "Gravure idols get to travel to exotic locations and wear beautiful clothes. But they are also expected to go on... dates... with sponsors and other business associates of the talent agencies that hire them."
"Oh, God! I'm so sorry, Chisa! We don't have to talk about this, if you are feeling icky about it."
Chisa shook her head.
"No, it's alright," she said. "It... it feels nice to be able to talk to someone I can trust."
For a moment, the two women just stared into each other's eyes, their hands still clasped.
"I'm glad you feel like you can trust me," Jen spoke finally. "I want you to know that your secrets are safe with me."
For a long moment, the Asian woman gazed back at her new girlfriend, pondering just how much to share.
"I was very... popular," she began hesitantly. "With fans and with sponsors. The fans wanted my autograph. The sponsors wanted my body. And I gave it to them. All models do. As the years passed by, I grew to hate that part of the job more and more."
"Couldn't you quit?" the redhead asked, her eyes wet with tears of sympathy.
The smaller woman shook her head.
"My parents signed a contract," Chisa explained. "If I had refused to work, they would have gone bankrupt. So, they pushed me to finish the seven year term I had agreed to."