Morita-San’s Secret

ipod

AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Continues from Kabukichō Aglow

We head inside in silence. Dalton is sitting behind the desk flipping through an issue of New Pornographer with a pen clenched between his teeth like a cigar. As Maria does her thing his eyes flick up to meet us.

“Yo,” Suzette announces wearily. This is probably the last place she wants to be right now.

“Mm,” he mumbles, taking the pen from his mouth and circling something in the magazine. He’s prepping to make the monthly order on Friday.

Believe it or not, Dalton takes his job pretty seriously, and he’s damn good at it. The industry is always moving, and it moves fast, yet he manages to keep up with it effortlessly. We used to deal solely in silicone, our dolls being the only bread-makers of the Womb. Now half our income is from shelf stock. Our success as product-pushers is completely down to Dalton and his incredible knack for understanding the customer; I’ve yet to see him miss a beat when it comes to knowing what people want to shove inside themselves.

“Patron’s present?” I ask. It’s a question we all ask every time we enter the store. Helps keep surprises to a minimum and our sordid conversations in English.

“Up to their nuts in plastic guts,” Dalton informs me tactfully after scribbling something down on his sheet. I sometimes wonder if he’d be so blunt if we had set up shop in a land of our mother tongue. Knowing Dalton, yes, he probably would, but I like to pretend I give him more credit than that. “You’ll never believe who I sold doll-time to today,” he continues, “I can’t believe you missed it- wait, where the hell have you guys been all day?”

“It’s a long and lurid story,” I say.

“You’ll love it,” Su finishes.

“Fantastic,” Dalton says, leaning forwards in his chair with an expectant grin spreading across his face. Su wanders over to the shelves and stares at them. Dalton turns – confused – from her to me.

“Anything new?” I say half-heartedly, nodding towards the magazine. He seems to take the hint – for now, at least.

“I don’t know,” he says, waving me over and laying the magazine on the counter so I can see it. He taps the page, pointing to a rose-pink dildo. I take a closer look and see its base is peppered with miniature LED lights which throb as it thrusts.

I stare at it in silence for a couple of seconds.

What. The. Fuck.

“Honest opinion,” He says.

“No chance,” I reply.

But then again, what do I know. I was the idiot who thought the love eggs that hooked up and vibrated to iPods would sell brilliantly. We still have boxes of them out back.

“Girls would dig it,” Dalton says, rocking back on his chair and staring at the page from afar, as if this new perspective will help him decide, “like, really dig it – it’s so chic.”

“But we don’t get enough girls in to warrant a single box.” I say honestly. I would put the love egg fiasco down to the same reason if Dalton hadn’t sold three whole boxes of ergonomic eggs the next week.

To men.

Sometimes we’ll get a daring couple venture through our door looking to spice up their sex life, but rarely do girls ever cross the threshold alone. In all his life at the Womb, our male doll Takayuki has never felt the touch of a woman. Poor guy.

Dalton goes quiet for a second, ideas quietly formulating in his head.

“I bet you a weeks worth of ramen at Yasube that I can sell five boxes in seven days

“You’re on,” I say without hesitation. There’s no way he’s moving that amount of faux-dick, into the hands of women no less. Nearly every dildo sale we make is to an adventurous guy with a penchant for prostate tickling.

Of course, he will sell the stock, but it’s worth the ramen just to see how.

Wager in place, we stare each other out for a while.

“Ok ok,” he says defiantly after seconds under my doubtful (misplaced as it may be) gaze, “Su,”

Su glances over. She’s been staring at the fleshlights since she came in.

“Not today, Dalton,” I try, but he’s already off.

“Wouldn’t this be awesome inside of you?” he says, holding up the page.

Suzette gives a queasy smile.

“It’s cute,” she manages.

“See!” Dalton exclaims, oblivious to Su’s discomfort. Usually she’d take it in her stride, we might have even had an honest opinion out of her, but today Su’s boundaries have been well and truly pushed.

“Why don’t you clock off early tonight Su,” I propose, “I’ll stay late with Dalton tonight.”

Suzette stares at me with blank eyes that say all too clearly she doesn’t understand.

“Go home Su.”

“Ah,” she says, managing to sound Japanese with one syllable. Looking slightly hurt she walks quickly into the back room.

“Why’d you do that?” Dalton hisses after she’s gone.

“Something happened today,” I say, keeping my voice down, not wanting Su to have to relive the events of the day.

“What kind of something?” Dalton whispers, following suit.

“Su and I had to go down to the police station. We had to help out with an investigation. So we get there-”

“Is Su in trouble?” Dalton interrupts, jumping the gun.

“No, nothing like that. It just shook her up. Anyway, we get there and this officer, officer Kurosawa, he sits us down in this little interview room and begins talking to us about Morita-san, you know, the guy who only buys stock and never time with the girls.”

“Yeah, one of our best customers; all those fleshlights – but dude,”

“Sure,” I say, not wanting to be interrupted again, “a curious amount of fleshlights.”

“So?”

So, the police raided his house on Sunday.”

“What?” Dalton says, his eyes widening. “Why?”

“A neighbour complained about the smell. So they bust in, and guess what they find?”

“Our fleshlights?”

“Oh they found them alright. But it’s what else they found.”

Dalton fails to respond, so I continue.

“Corpses in the basement. Corpses in various states of decay and defilation.”

“No,” Dalton manages to whisper.

“Yes. And guess what they found inside of them?”

“Don’t say it,”

Our stock.

“Oh god…”

“Right? That cheap sonofabitch was making his own sex dolls!”

“Dude,” Dalton says, paling horribly.

“I know,”

“No, dude, he… Haruka…” Dalton seems to be struggling to get the words out.

“What?” I prompt.

“Dude,” Dalton says for the third time, raising his voice slightly, “Morita-san… he’s with Haruka-chan, right now.”

I hear Suzette collapse in the back room.

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~ by Joseph Blame on August 30, 2010.

One Response to “Morita-San’s Secret”

  1. HARUKA!!!!!!!

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