Banging the Hot MILFs of Tokyo-Chapter 23

Yuki threw a punch straight to Hayato's cheek, knocking his head to the side. He let go of him, dusted his hands off on his trousers, and snapped, "Stay away from Suncrest Bakery, you asshole. I just hope you didn't do anything to Emi!"

Then he took off, running across the street and disappearing into the dark alley. A few houses down the block, he finally stopped, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm down.

"Why would Emi close up the bakery?" Yuki muttered, breath still ragged as he leaned against the cold wall, trying to piece it all together. He shook his head slowly, unable to make sense of it. "That place was everything to her..."

His eyes trailed the dark alley, noticing the gang of men at the other side. If he was not mistaken, those people were Loan sharks that came to the bakery late at night to look for him.

Were they also the reason why Emi closed up the bakery?

Yuki swallowed hard. Launching forward to hem meant getting buried six feet alive and then going back meant cops, questions, maybe a ride in the back of a patrol car. He could already see Hayato whining like a little bitch about his bruised face.

But then again...

Yuki's eyes stayed locked on the gang at the end of the alley, heart hammering in his chest. Even in the dim light, he recognized a few of the faces. The guy with the crooked jaw and gold tooth—he'd shown up at the bakery before, knocking on the back door with a broken alcohol bottle and a piston.

The Shiraishi Hounds.

If he wasn't mistaken, they were the same thugs who'd been after him for months—ever since his father gambled away everything they had and turned up dead with multiple stab wounds, leaving Yuki to deal with the mess he left behind.

Were they the reason Emi sold the bakery?

Had they scared her off?

Threatened her?

"Goddamn it," Yuki whispered, a pit forming in his gut. "Did I drag her into this too?"

He stepped back instinctively, weighing his options, which were quickly turning into none at all. Go forward and get jumped—or worse. Go back and likely get arrested. Stuck between hell and handcuffs.

He started to turn around, trying to slip into another narrow side path, when— A hand clamped down on his left shoulder. A man his size—maybe a little taller, definitely more rugged, grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward like a ragdoll. Yuki stumbled, landing hard on his knees in the center of the alley, just as the gang turned their attention toward him.

"Well, well, well," the man holding him jeered, tightening his grip on Yuki's collar. "Boss, look what I found."

Another figure emerged from the shadows, puffing a cigarette on and out his nostrils. "Yuki Mori," the man announced, stepping into the light. He wore a long coat, leather gloves, and a look that could freeze blood. "The son of that lousy gambler who thought he could screw us and run."

Yuki's mouth went dry. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

The man holding him laughed. "Didn't think we'd find you hiding behind cake boxes and flour dust, huh?"

Yuki's fists clenched, jaw tight. This was about to get ugly. Yuki's heart pounded in his chest as the man gripping his collar shoved him forward. He stumbled, nearly falling face-first, but caught himself on his hands and knees. Dirt and gravel scraped his palms as a half-circle of boots closed in around him.

"Well, well, the little rat's finally out of his hole," One of them announced as he moved closer to Yuki, taking a jab at his jaw. Meanwhile, the boss—still calmly smoking—tilted his head and said, "Strip him!"

Crooked Jaw stepped forward, crouched beside Yuki, and grabbed the back of his jacket. With a strong yank, he pulled it down his arms roughly. "Nice jacket," he said with a sneer, tossing it to another thug. "Might fit my little brother."

Yuki gritted his teeth but said nothing. "Stand him up," the boss ordered lazily.

The brute who had dragged Yuki in yanked him up by his armpits, standing him on shaky legs. Another man circled behind and grabbed a handful of Yuki's shirt collar, then slowly began to unbutton it, taking turns in slapping his pale cheeks.

"Button by button," he said with a grin. "Let's undress our prince real proper."

The others laughed.

Yuki jerked his shoulders, trying to resist, but one solid punch to his stomach folded him over, the wind knocked from his lungs.

They tore his shirt down the middle after that, buttons scattering on the pavement. His bare chest heaved under the alley's cold breeze, goosebumps forming on his skin. Another thug whistled mockingly.

"Damn. Pale and skinny. You sure you ain't some runaway ballet dancer?"

More laughter. More flashes—someone had their phone out again. The thug with the gold tooth unbuckled his belt from it's sheath, dumping the cigarette stick in his mouth on the ground. "Let's see what daddy's little disgrace has a size of a dick!"

His pants were yanked down roughly, pooling around his ankles, leaving him standing in nothing but his underwear.

Laughter exploded again.

Someone shoved him from behind, sending him sprawling to his knees once more. A camera flash went off. Another picture.

The boss took one long drag of his cigarette, then stepped closer. "Take those pics. Send it to every corner of this goddamn city if you want. Let everyone know Yuki Mori is just as pathetic as his father. This is what happens when you run from the Shiraishi Hounds. "

"Look at this pathetic twig," one of them cackled, phone still aimed. Flash. Another picture. "You sure you ain't hiding a tutu somewhere?"

"Boss, we should make this one viral," another thug said, holding up his phone to record. "'Debt Boy's Strip Show.' Might go viral."

"Get his dick out!" The leader roared, obviously enjoying the stripping show. Instantly, his underwear was stripped completely from Yuki's body leaving him bare, his dick hanging in the cold air. Yuki gritted his teeth as both his arms was pulled apart so he couldn't cover up himself.

And then a slap on his butt came. Yuki groaned, sniffing in the humiliation as another slap came through but this time around on the back of his head. The leader reached out and grabbed Yuki by the jaw, forcing his head up. "Smile for the camera, Yuki. You're gonna make your old man proud."

Flash.

The camera light blinked at his face and Yuki sniffed in again. "Look at him. Not even man enough to fight back," someone spat.

Yuki didn't look at any of them. Couldn't. His eyes fixed on a single flickering light above the alley exit, willing himself to disappear into it. But he couldn't. Not yet.

"Pull yourself together man! Or should I say you manwhore? Yuki Mori is a whore just like is Dick-kissing late father." The group laughed, jeers echoing off the damp alley walls.

Someone shoved him again. He stumbled, slipping on the cold pavement, knees scraping against concrete. A phone flash blinked at him — a picture snapped in mid-fall.

"Bet he thought he could hide behind aprons and sugar," another said. "What a joke."

Every jab taken at Yuki's jaw increased his bruising. Yuki laid on his knees, his chin gripped harshly by the leader. "Scram you asshole. Let me not ever see you here again!" He kicked Yuki in the chest, and Yuki flattened out on the ground, heaving heavily.

"Look at him, what a pathetic son!"

Yuki laid on the ground, trying to catch his breath. His eyes had been battered to a red pulp, his face swollen and red. He tried to move only realizing that his hands had been stepped on. "Argh!" He yelled, struggling to get his million dollar coding fingers from under the crooked jaw man's feet.

"He wasn't to fight back! Daddy's boy wants to fight back. Oh poor little thing, leave him alone, let's see what he can do!" The crooked jaw man lifted his foot off Yuki's hands, smirking down at him like a predator surveying wounded prey.

"Look at you—can barely move," he sneered, grinding his heel into Yuki's fingers just enough to make him flinch. "I'm going to leave your fingers so broken you can never code with it ever again!"

"Come on, show us what you got, Yuki," taunted a tall thug with a scar running down his neck. "Or are you just all talk and no fight?"

Yuki closed his eyes, his breath rugged and opened it up, breathing heavily. Suddenly, a clear voice echoed out loud, stunning the gang of thugs.

System initialized.

Strength Booster: +2000 XP activated.

Skill and Martial Art Core unlocked: +5000 XP gained.

Body regeneration protocol online: minor wounds beginning to heal.

Adrenaline surge engaged: temporary pain resistance +150%.

Focus enhancement module active: mental clarity improving.

"Oh, what's this? Daddy's boy still lost in his little fantasy game? Maybe I should smash that phone of yours right now—see how you play without it."