I blame no one but myself for what I endured.

Like most unpleasant situations I find myself in, this was brought about by a sense of adventure. However, as with this one -- just like the rest -- I'd not used my best judgement. I knew nothing about Japan when I decided to spend both my extra cash and my extra vacation time to visit. Nor did I try to learn anything about the country or the culture before the trip. I only hoped it would prove to be an interesting week. It was... to say the least.

Upon arriving in Tokyo, I instantly took to the streets in search of adventure. I went from bar to bar, though mostly those inhabited by fellow "round eye" tourists. It was around 11 p.m. and after quite a few bourbons that I found myself striking up a conversation with a gentleman about my age perched at the bar next to me. His character struck me as a bit questionable, but I was desperate for conversation so I enjoyed the commaradarie. He told me his name was John and that he was from New York, which I found interesting, seeing as he not only looked Latin American but also had a heavy accent. Soon enough, I met his "partner," and, after the proverbial banter about our lives, lines of work (theirs, referred to only as "trade") and the ins and outs of visiting Japan (something they claimed to do once a month -- for business purposes), the three of us quickly established a semi-drunken raport, obnoxiously discussing drunken exploits, sexual experiences with women, and even prostitutes.

By the end of the evening, I'd given them my phone number at the hotel, told them I'd like them to show me around town, and genuinely said said goodbye as if I, realistically, knew I'd never see them again.

The next day I was quite surprised to return from a day of site-seeing to find I'd been left a message from John, requesting my company as he and his friend (who's name I was never given) "did the town." I was more than delighted to join them, seeing this as an ideal oportunity to see the proverbial "real" Japan -- something any tourist desires when they are abroad. Though feeling a bit incongruous amongst these two gentlemen in their slicked-back hair and "disco" attire, the evening had started out quite enjoyably. Mucho saki y mucho Asihi. Once sufficiently intoxicated, it was agreed that they would show me some of the world-renoun strip and sex clubs Tokyo has to offer.

It was at one of these places that I was introduced to "Mr. Lee" (though I was clearly under the impression this was not his actual name). Introduced, however, was all. Being introduced as "a business associate," it was evident that he was not one the likes of myself needed to interact with, as far as John was concerned. A friendly "This my new friend from the States..." and that was all. Then the two of them concentrated on what seemed like very serious conversations.

Ultimately, John, I, and his friend, as well as Mr. Lee and the two in his camp, found ourselves in a booth, a gorgeous and virtually naked Japanese woman dancing upon our table, namely concentrating on Mr. Lee. However, Mr. Lee was clearly non-plused, as whatever my friend John and he were discussing was of intense interest to him. Despite the distraction of the beautiful legs before me, as well as that of the alcohol that ran through my veins, I found myself somewhat curious about this "Mr. Lee."

A stoic and stern man in his fifties, formally dressed in a black suit and black tie with a white shirt (all identical to that of his two equally as stoic and stern companions), his presentation struck me as strange, given our present locale. However, my fascination was detected: while he was listened to something John was saying to him, he lit yet another cigarette (he seemed to define a "chainsmoker"), our eyes met, the flame from his gold lighter giving him a more than sinister appearance.

Embarrassed, I looked away, only to look back and notice that Mr. Lee was clearly asking John about me. Immediately after a brief exchange, John asked me if I needed a drink, then slid from behind the booth, leaving no buffer between Mr. Lee and myself. Somewhat intimidated, I was a bit uncomfortable when he slid over to me and forced a disingenuous smile, asking how I liked Japan, etc. He then began to ask me about the girls in the Southern U.S., if I knew of any who'd like to work in Japan and make large sums of money. This having been asked, it soon became quite apparent to me the nature of both Mr. Lee and John's business: some sort of sinister, underground "skin trade."

When John returned, he intuitively seemed to want to take his place back between me and Mr. Lee in the booth. However, Mr. Lee severly instructed him to sit on the other side, I assumed so he could continue talking with me.

"So you like the Japanese girls," Mr. Lee asked as he inhaled deeply on his cigarette and looked up at the woman on the table.

Feeling as if I'd established some friendship with Mr. Lee, I inexplicably tossed out "Yes, but where's all the bondage? I thought there'd be a lot of bondage in Japan!"

Mr. Lee barked out some commands in Japanese to his entourage and they stood and began to move out of the booth. John, surprised, was told by Mr. Lee where we were going. Dumbfounded, he looked at me and asked what I'd said to him. "We're going to a very bad place, man, muy mal... muy mal."

Chapter II

"This is a bad place," I said to Mr. Lee as he stood next to me, his arm grasping my shoulder in a gesture of familiararity while he concentrated with what seemed like great enthusiasm at sinister activity that was taking place in front of us.

"Yes, very, very bad, Jay. You like it, don't you," he asked as he stared intensely at the overweight woman spewing what could only be plees for mercy in front of us as her hooded torturer subjected her to ungoddly torments. "But... she's in such agony. Who is she? Why is this being done to her?" "It is... AN HONOR," he barked with a furocity that startled me. "The man you see doing this to her... he is... it would be hard for a Westerner to understand," his voice becoming intense and gruff as he spoke in his labored English. "But for her to be subjected to this, especially by him, is something she secretly desires. He is very skilled at knowing such things, as well as knowing just how to - what is the word - TOUCH that part of her. He knows because it is his passion, Jay - to cause her such agony. Her fears, her nightmares... the sensitive parts of her mind and flesh. It is, as you say in the West, his STATION! Such a man is well-respected and revered in Japan, my young American friend."

As I listened to him and watched the writhing of the woman and listened to her desperate gasps, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Mr. Lee had turned his head towards me, examining my face and then my form. I pretended not to notice, but the discomfort caused my body to tense. Lowering his voice, "Jay, there are things we understand here in Japan... we do not deny the darkness within man. The strange things that haunt man are accepted, embraced and not questioned. Such things -- what you call the "bad" things -- are very important to us and have been throughout our history. While you in your culture only concentrate on that which is obvious, here we understand that which goes deeper within," he said as he gently pointed his unsteady finger in the direction of my head and then my torso, thus giving me every indication that he very well be intoxicated himself. "It is ancient, Jay," he said as an afterthought.

"Yes, yes... I understand. It's really turning me on."

He took his glace away from my face and back to the scene before us. "Good... good boy. Good boy, Jay."

Chapter III

"Three aces," I annouced proudly as I laid my cards upon the long coffee table. It was about time I had a winning hand. Even though Mr. Lee covered my expenses at both the strip club and that secret torture chamber place, I had lost $2000 American to him at this weird "men's club" we went to afterward, playing poker. I was advised against participating in the game by John, who, despite his earlier "disreputable" demeanor, had taken on a somewhat concerned one.

"And I have a full house, my American friend," Mr. Lee uttered as he showed his hand menacingly.

"FUCK," I gasped, as both John and his nameless partner grabbed my respective shoulders and let out a mutual "SHHHHHHH!"

"Another hand, Jay," Mr. Lee asked in a voice meant to provoke.

"No, we're going to be leaving now, Mr. Lee," John spurted-out before I could answer.

"Fuck that! That's all the money I have. Let's play another. What do you want to play for? My watch? It's a scuba watch. Worth a lot? And it's not some Japanese piece of junk, I proclaimed as if I were in the midst of good natured pals, my decorum obviously having deteriorated due to alcohol, fatique and a general frustration with the loss of money.

Mr. Lee looked straight ahead at John and mumbled something in Japanese. John responded and Mr. Lee repeated the same phrase but with anger and force.

"Okay, amigo... he'll bet a thousand... and you'll... you'll go upstairs with him if you lose."

"Sounds good to me," I responded enthusiastically.

"Mira, mira, amigo, este es muy peligroso! You don't want to go upstairs with him," John desperately tried to warn me under his breath. "You don't know what goes on in Japan. You don't understand what happens here! Upstairs is where all the -"

"DO YOU PLAY OR NOT," Mr. Lee interupted impatiently.

"Deal the cards," I said sheepishly. Going upstairs with him? How bad could that be? He'd want to chew my ear off talking about his marital problems for what little remained of the night? Whatever the alternative was to walking out that place penniless and after only twenty-four hours in Japan, it seemed worth it.

Dealt three dueces, I felt I was in excellent shape. I put down my ace of spades and jack of spades and was dealt another ace and the fourth deuce. I was secretly estatic. Mr. Lee did not put down any cards but kept his hand.

"As we say in the States, read em' and weep, Mr. Lee." I then arrogantly let my cards fall upon the table.

Without a word, Mr. Lee dropped his hand. Ten of hearts, Jack of hearts, Queen of hearts, King of hearts, Ace of hearts. In one gesture, he stood and moved towards a door behind me, opened it and gestured for me to enter. I rubbed my knees nervously, suddenly overcome with the realization that perhaps there's a chance I'd gotten myself into something I should not have, that the "upstairs" was indeed a "bad" place. Then I rose and moved towards the door. The rest in the dimmly lit room remained seated and silent.

"Jay... vias con Dios, amigo," John said quietly as he crossed me. I looked back from him and stepped trough the threshold of the door, enough to allow Mr. Lee to close the door behind us. I looked forward and saw total darkness. I looked above me an could make out the what lay at the top of the narrow stairwell: the flicker of a candle.

"Begin," came the now austere and unfriendly voice of Mr. Lee. I took the first step.

More Shall Come.