Accidental Fiancée Ch. 01

Warning: This is a lesbian love story that starts with a bit of a non-consensual occurrence. This is NOT a non-consent story. It's a simply mistake that both parties come to understand. There are also instances that refer to characters race, though no racial or hateful statements are made in this story. I hope you enjoy the journey of this slow-burn love story!

Chapter 1

Life was complicated... I'm definitely not saying I had it all together or anything, but my circumstances weren't great either. I was in a place I hated, surrounded by people I unjustly disliked even more. It was just a temporary trip, but it took me down a dark avenue in my past.

I, Karina Ortiz, a twenty-eight-year-old retail distribution manager for an up-and-coming clothing company, was now in Tokyo on a work trip. And it's not that I hated Japanese people or anything... but... there was definitely a dark memory that clouded my judgment whenever I laid my eyes on a young Asian woman.

When I was nineteen, I married my high school sweetheart, Gabriel; the man of my dreams. We were young, yes, but we both knew we didn't want anyone besides each other. He joined the military, and I stayed in California. It wasn't a great situation because we barely saw each other at first, but we managed to make it work.

I thought everything was going fine. He had his career, and I was going to my university. However, once I learned that he would be getting stationed in other countries, I realized our time together would become even more seldom. Still, he was the only man I had ever wanted to be with, so I was willing to deal with the sacrifices.

It wasn't like he was getting sent to Afghanistan or anything. He only went to Europe and Asia, visiting places like Italy, Korea, and Japan. He wasn't an infantryman, so it wasn't like he had to be on the front lines. Still, I wasn't allowed to go with him, nor did my family think it was a good idea, since I had just started college here.

A lot of people made fun of us, but I had a quiet confidence that we would make it through to the other end. I just needed to finish my studies, and he needed to get to a point where he wasn't being deployed so often. Then, we could be together, and let fate take us wherever we were destined to go.

That all changed one day when he visited me during my senior year. Slowly, I started to realize that all he ever wanted to do was go out drinking and have sex. I felt more like a booty call than a wife to him. That's when I decided to make him aware of my disapproval for his behavior.

Unfortunately, he drunkenly admitted that he hadn't been faithful. And it wasn't like he did it in an apologetic way, either. I'll never forget his words: "I don't need this, Karina. I should have just stayed in overseas where I could pay for sex without getting all the arguing to go with it."

Of course, I didn't believe him at first. I thought he was just trying to say something to hurt me so he could get his way. However, as I pressed him further, he proudly detailed his adventures in dirty underground massage parlors that he and his buddies would unapologetically frequent.

He even bragged about how beautiful the girls were. It only slightly hurt me because I was confident in my looks, but once he started describing the things they would let him do that I wouldn't, I became a completely broken woman. I never realized my hesitancy about giving blowjobs and receiving anal would be used against me, but there I was, being torn down by my husband because he found other women that provided what I wouldn't.

It was a stereotypical thing I would hear about poor areas in Asia. These places were designed as "massage parlors," but once you got behind closed doors, you were able to do whatever you wanted with a girl of your choice.

Obviously, I should have put the blame on my husband, but there was something about the situation that made it feel like he chose them over me. We got a divorce and all, and that was mostly from his end, but from that day on, I could never look at a young Asian woman without picturing her as one of the women he cheated on me with.

Like I said before, I was confident in my looks. I was a young and pretty Latina, with a tight body and nice curves. I always imagined Asian women to be pretty short and flat, so I didn't understand why a man would cheat on a tall and voluptuous woman like me with women like that.

Yes, I knew it was unfair to cast blame on people who were completely unaware of my situation. Unfortunately, there was just a fire burning inside of me that wanted to blame everyone but him. However, this even included myself for not being good enough.

This was probably what drove me to work so hard. I climbed my way up the ranks and became my company's youngest retail distribution manager. The ones I got the job over were pissed and envious of me, but it was nothing compared to the anger I felt towards the women my husband chose over me.

Eventually, in an attempt to save money, my company started negotiating contracts with companies in other countries, which is how I ended up on this trip to Japan. We also started accepting interns out of college. I had no say in the matter of who was hired to my office; The company selected them and we were just notified. That's how we got Alana... And just guess what freaking race she was...

She wanted to come, and even offered to translate for me while I was here. Of course, I didn't let her, because I wanted to be on this trip alone. Adding another young Asian woman in an area that already brought back so many bad memories would have just stressed me the hell out. The material companies already provided their own translators, so I didn't have any need for her annoying little ass, anyway.

So, there I was, all alone, picturing these women as people my ex-husband would have cheated on me with. Was it fair to them? No, but I had to direct my unresolved anger towards someone. All the women had been very polite to me, but I just couldn't stop myself from imagining them having anal sex with the love of my life.

Desperate to relinquish this unresolved hate in my heart, I came up with a pretty ridiculous plan. It was late at night, and I had been drinking quite a bit in my hotel room. I decided that if I could just take my anger out on one single woman, and force her to bear the burden of my angst towards the ones my husband was with, maybe I could find some closure. But who could I use? My time in Japan was running short, and I needed to find the perfect victim.

Eventually, I made my decision. The perfect representation of all the women I hated could be found at one of these dirty massage parlors that Gabriel frequented. I could just pick a girl, and no strings would be attached. I'd go in there and treat her like shit, maybe even slap her around a bit. I could also see what the fuck my husband thought was so great about them.

It was a ridiculous plan, but my mind was stuck on it. Even when I woke up, hungover, I still decided to go through with it because I was willing to do anything to let out some of this anger I had towards the world.

I'm fucking doing this, I said to myself, stomping my feet as I walked back and forth in my room. It's stupid, but I'm fucking doing this, because I can't go on living with all this hate in my heart.

After hopping onto the computer and doing some research, I picked up the phone and I made a few calls. I made it pretty clear I was looking for an "underground" massage parlor.

Eventually, one of my calls was answered by someone who was proficient in English; a promising sign. I was scheduled for that evening, and instructed to bring cash. I was also given the code, Butterfly Swan, to use when I got to the door. Now all I had to do was write down the name of the place, and allow my anger to fester before I called a taxi.

Of course, I also needed a few more drinks to make sure I had the courage to go through with this stupid decision. Some poor girl was going to experience my wrath that day, but I felt no remorse because it was women like her that ruined my marriage in the first place. I was getting my revenge, and nothing was going to stop me.

***

Two months prior, a few weeks before leaving for the trip, I was in my office working on some final details when my intern walked in. "Kar... Miss Ortiz... May I please speak with you about something?" 

I raised an eyebrow at her after taking my eyes off my computer. "Were you seriously about to address me by my first name?"

"Um... It was an accident, ma'am..."

"You're my intern," I reminded her with a stern glare. "Address me professionally. I'm your boss, not your friend."

The twenty-one-year-old college student looked down at the floor, feeling embarrassed after I called her out. "I'm sorry... It's just... everyone else calls you by your first name, so when I hear them saying Karina, it's the last thing on my mind before I talk to you..."

I let out a sigh since I was unable to understand the audacity of this little Japanese-American intern. "They are employees that I hand selected. You were just assigned to me by my direct supervisor. There's a major difference."

"I know, ma'am... Sorry, Miss Ortiz..."

Now that we had that squared away, I could finally address whatever unimportant question she had for me. "So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh, um... it's about your upcoming trip to Tokyo..."

"What about it? Are you incapable of handling your assignments while I'm gone?"

"No, it's not that," she answered, building up some courage. "It's just... I know you get to select one employee to take with you, and you haven't picked anyone yet. Is it possible for you to take me? I promise I won't bother you, and I can help translate if you ever need any help. Oh, and I can do the assignments while I'm there!"

Once again, I was astonished at the audacity of this young woman to think she deserved to go on such an important trip with me. "Alana," I started, shaking my head at her like she was some sort of idiot. "I already made my decision pretty clear to everyone; I'm going alone. And if I were to take someone, why do you think I would ever consider someone as unqualified as you?"

The nervous woman twiddled her fingers, finding her nerves to face confrontation. "Well... just the translating thing..."

"Every company I'm meeting with already provides a translator."

"Yeah, but there will be times outside of your meetings when you might require someone to help you... Also, my grandparents live in Tokyo, and I'd like to see them. I could stay with them instead of going to the hotel with you. I promise I'll stay out of your way."

"No, no, no, Alana! I don't need an intern, I don't need a translator, and I most definitely don't need you using this as some kind of vacation!"

Suddenly, I noticed the tears forming in her eyes. She was strong enough not to cry in front of me, but I imagine the tear works started later when she was outside my door. Instead, the short, young woman just nodded her head and responded, "I understand, Miss Ortiz... Thank you for your time."

Was I too harsh on her? Probably so. But who could blame me when I was unfairly picturing her as one of the women my husband cheated on me with? I was fighting my own demons by being way tougher on her than anyone else. And now, almost two months later, I was ready to dish out some revenge on yet another innocent bystander.

***

The time had finally come, and after revisiting some dark memories, looking at old pictures, and finishing almost an entire bottle of tequila, I was ready to take my anger out on someone. I wrote down the name of the place, and I even learned how to pronounce it.

When the cab came, I quickly provided the information, hoping this would be a "no questions asked" type of deal. The driver looked a little confused, probably because he couldn't understand me. He didn't speak English either, but after looking through his GPS for a minute, he finally drove me to a destination.

When I got out of the cab, I was pretty enamored as I looked at the outside of the building. The place appeared much more official than I ever expected a dirty a massage parlor could be. There was even a big sign on the outside, straight up telling everyone the title of that illegal place.

I guess it's not that underground, I thought to myself before taking a deep breath and opening the door. Maybe these kind of things aren't looked so down on outside of America...

When I stepped inside, I immediately noticed the other customers. I was shocked that they were sitting there so casually, and that they weren't afraid to show their faces. There were even women there too, which made me feel better, knowing I wasn't the only one. I couldn't believe how old some of them were, but I supposed old people needed to feel loved too.

I also couldn't believe how professional the set up appeared with there being a reception desk as well as a waiting area. Despite my confusion, I approached and talked to the woman behind the counter. "Hi, I'm here for an appointment. The name is Ortiz."

The woman had an extremely thick accent and struggled to understand what I was saying. This had to be someone different from the person I was talking to on the phone. That woman was damn near fluent in English.

She searched through her computer for a moment with a confused look on her face. Then, with her broken English, she asked, "Are you sure? I can't find Ortiz."

"Oh, that's right!" I reacted as the prior conversation replayed in my mind. "The code is... Butterfly Swan."

I expected her to put that oblivious act aside and finally talk to me like she understood what I was saying. Instead, she just looked back at her computer, repeating the word "Swan" over and over as she clicked around.

Still unsure whether she was putting on an act or not, I stood there awkwardly, looking around to see if the others were staring at me. Then... that's when I saw her... the perfect victim for my revenge.

I could tell she worked there. She had walked through one door and was about to enter another in the back. She was young, and about my height, with long black hair and boobs that were almost as large as mine. Her skin was fair, her body was nice, and her face was pretty cute. My husband would have definitely cheated on me with her. Hell, I would have cheated on me with her... if... well, you know... if I was actually into girls... and I didn't hate Japanese women.

Immediately, I pointed at the young employee. "Her! I want her!"

The woman stopped and stared at me with a confused expression. The receptionist then looked back at her before returning her gaze to me. Neither of them seemed to know what I was talking about, so I asked, "Do I not get to pick the girl I'll be with? I thought that was how it worked."

Unfortunately, that pretty woman's English was even worse than the receptionist's. She clearly had no idea what I was saying, but I continued to point at her, making it clear that I wanted her to be my masseuse.

She eventually walked up and spoke to the receptionist. I guess after the way I constantly pointed at her, she figured out that she was the one I wanted. They began talking, and much to my confusion, it almost appeared like they were having a debate.

The young woman that I had hand selected to be my victim appeared much more apologetic, a bit like Alana. The receptionist didn't look too happy, but the masseuse nervously waved both of her hands, almost as if she were saying, "It's okay."

Despite the obvious unhappiness from the receptionist, the masseuse bowed before waving me over to follow her. The next thing I knew, I was in a room with her, sitting drunk on a table that looked way too official.

As I looked around at my surroundings, I continued to be surprised by how nice the set up was compared to my expectations. Everything looked so clean and organized, and the walls were pretty thin. I just assumed that this was such a common practice that nobody really minded if others could hear what they were doing.

When the woman that I had selected reentered the room, it finally hit me. Everything had been set up like this on purpose to make it appear like an official hospital. Men probably liked that this felt like a spontaneous act, rather than a dirty motel with a hooker. The women not being able to speak English probably also played into the fantasy, making me think this was all an act.

Though I had figured it out, the masseuse kept pretending to be confused about the whole situation. I must admit, I was pretty impressed by her persistence. However, I was on such a mission that I was just ready to cut to the chase.

With her eyebrows raised, she started pointing at my shoulders and my back, pretending to ask where I was hurting for our roleplay. Laughing, I just shook my head before answering, "You can drop the act. We both know why I'm here. Butterfly Swan, remember?"

She stared at me with big eyes and raised eyebrows. After shrugging her shoulders, I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to take the lead.

Grabbing her by the wrist, I pulled her towards me and started working to get her pants down. I was shocked that she was still wearing sweatpants with a polo. I figured she would have changed into some kind of lingerie by now.

Laughing incredibly nervously, she started to pull away. However, I was much more assertive than she was, and also drunk, so I easily brought her back before pulling her pants down to her thighs.

Once again, I was completely shocked. "Regular panties?!" I exclaimed as I stared at her crotch, which was covered in a little pair of white cotton underwear. "I figured you'd be wearing a thong, or at least a lace."

Again, she tried to pull away, but I kept her right where I wanted her. Then, with a determined look, I expressed, "Quit messing around. I just have some frustrations I need to take out on you. I'm going to be mean, but it's nothing personal."

Still, she continued to act as if she couldn't understand what I was saying. Damn, her persistence was impressive. There was no way I wasn't going to leave her a large tip when I was through with my session.

Suddenly, she pulled away pretty hard, but with her pants now down to her ankles, she tripped and almost fell onto the floor. Then, as I approached her, she started waving her hands at me like she did the receptionist earlier. Her acting skills were amazing, and I could see why my husband was so tempted to cheat on me in a situation like this.

"I'm going to slap you," I warned, ready to finally get my revenge. 

She was the perfect representation of all the women I was angry at. Unfortunately though, in that moment, I realized it was much harder to slap an innocent bystander than I expected, even though she was probably used to dealing with rough sex consisting of all sorts of demeaning acts.

Unable to bring myself to hitting her pretty face, I decided to smack her somewhere that would soften the blow. I turned her around and pressed her against the wall. Then, bringing my hand back, I gave her a nice little pop on the butt, causing her to let out a high-pitched squeal.

Her reaction was pretty cute, and she was even shaking like she was actually afraid. She played the role so well, it was easy for me to get into the act and continue spanking her behind as she struggled against the wall.

She whimpered and moaned, but never once did she fight back. It was the go-ahead I needed to get completely comfortable in this situation. It was almost as if she had told me, "Go ahead and take out all your frustrations on me. That's what I'm here for."

Now with the green light, I brought her back towards the table where I could slap her ass her even harder. I had quickly grown pretty comfortable with this spanking thing, so I decided to put her over my knees to make it a bit more fun and humiliating.