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My Frenemy Challenged Me to Sleep With More Men Than Her and It Led to a Shocking Discovery

Hakima T A N T R I K A 8-10 minutes 3/14/2023

Uncovering the Lolita Fetish in Japan

Picture by Atikh Bana from Unsplash

Marion was a tall and beautiful French model who loved to test me by seducing my partners when we were together in college. So, when I graduated and moved away to Japan, I thought I was finally far from her perverted influence.

I was obviously mistaken.

“I challenge you to compete,” texted Marion one day. It was the first time she was so upfront about her intention; she was determined to win.

“Let’s see who can have the most sexual partners within a month, you or me. Are you ready?”

I could have refused her manipulative game, but thirty years old Hakima was craving acceptance and connection from Marion. Despite her perverted side, she was the only person who would call me every day and listen to my lonely days in Japan.

Obviously, I lost the challenge and benefited from the disadvantage of living in Japan, a sexless country.

Two and half men was a terrible result compared to the fourteen men Marion had brought back home within a month.

A risky behavior

To win this contest, I challenged myself to go out more often after work.

I would go dancing salsa and bachata, hoping that social dance would give me an opportunity to meet someone to invite back home.

It was a terrible idea.

If you haven’t been to a salsa club in Japan, picture this:

Imagine a place in the basement smelling old french fries mixed with humidity. Now limit that place to the size of my apartment (340 square feet), and gather fifty old men with rotten teeth and gums, obviously boozers.

Now, bring one French woman with big hopes and watch what happens. I survived the lion’s den and surely didn’t bring anybody back home.

So I cheated a bit and used Tinder for a few days.

This is when I met two French tourists — two best friends who didn’t know I had slept with both of them within the week they were here.

As for my half man (you’ll understand soon why he’s just "half of a man"), I met him at the wedding ceremony of a Japanese girl, Atsumi, I had met once.

After a boring and pricey wedding dinner paid the guests, we moved to a bar rented for the occasion and attended what the Japaneses call a “nijikai” for an extra hundred of dollars. The ones who couldn’t afford the dinner could choose to come to this nijikai only.

This is where I met Hiroki.

Hiroki was a lawyer, sitting next to me alone at the bar counter. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

“What’s your name?” he asked in English.

“Hakima.”

“Where are you from?”

“Fu-ran-su,” I replied in Japanese.

The conversation was boring like most of the conversations I had in Japan. But I went with it since it was a rare occasion to speak to a man and maybe my chance to win the challenge set by Marion.

In order to cope better with boredom and give me more strength, I ordered two glasses of whiskey. Hiroki looked at me, worried. But I had a plan in mind — I wanted to pretend that I was too drunk to head back home so that he would lead me to his place instead.

And my plan worked. After a few drinks, Hiroki kindly asked me if I wanted to sleep at his place that night, and I accepted.

When we left the bar together, the other guests gazed at us with a surprising look as I was holding Hiroki’s arm. Displays of affection are not common in Japan and even a mother with her child doesn’t hold hands.

But I was determined to be seductive and I couldn’t care less about what people thought of me. I had paid $400 USD for attending this wedding and I was about to “win” the contest (little did I know Marion had already won by that time).

I left the bar without saying goodbye to the bride and headed to Hiroki’s house. He had warned me that his house was very minimalist, yet I expected a less humble house for a lawyer. There was only one futon on the ground and nothing else.

Hiroki helped me sit on it and sat next to me. I put my head on his shoulder in an attempt to come closer.

This is when Hiroki did something I didn’t expect at all!

He petted my head and repeated with a very perverted voice, “Good little girl.” “Ii-ko-dane!”

I was immediately grossed out. I was thirty years old and I wasn’t a little girl anymore. But Hiroki was talking to me like a father talks to his child, using a high pitched, deformed voice — the one that we, humans, strangely use to talk to babies and toddlers.

His voice and his wording immediately turned me off and I surely didn’t want to have sex with someone who was seeing me as a child. But Hiroki thought differently. Turned on by the idea of touching a little girl, he jumped on me.

“I’m feeling better!” I screamed out, suddenly not drunk at all and stood up from the futon.

“Oh…But, you don’t look better. Come and have a rest on daddy’s lap, like a good little girl.”

I narrowed my eyes and gazed frankly at the pervert standing in front of me, trying to scare him off and showing him I wasn’t a little girl, but a fierce foreign woman he should be scared of… like most Japanese men.

Instead, he gave me a perverse smile. Now, it was me who was scared to my bones.

I grabbed my bag and coat and ran out towards the entrance. I needed to escape the worst. At the entrance, I snatched my shoes and opened the door. We were on the eleventh floor, so I pushed frankly on the button of the elevator, hoping to escape fast, but Hiroki ran after me.

“What are you doing? Don’t be afraid little girl, it’s all right! Come back, daddy will take care of you.”

I used my most powerful defense tool, my voice, and screamed very loud, which was enough to surprise the pervert. To this day, I’m not sure if my defenselessness gave him a harder erection or if he realized how messed up he was.

I was able to escape before “daddy” caught me and I put my shoes in the elevator. As soon as I got out, I called a taxi to get back home. Ew!! If you would have seen me at this moment, you would have seen disgust, overlapping with despair. My face was as white as snow and my eyes were dull.

Once in the taxi, I sighed in relief and the taxi driver asked, “Long day at work, right?” Work again… In the dress and shoes I was wearing? Maybe he thought I was a hostess from a foreign country (a woman working at a bar who serves men alcohol while smiling and listening to their day so that they feel less lonely).

I pulled a mirror out of my handbag and looked at myself. With all this makeup and my dress, I surely looked like a hostess, exhausted from conversations with creepy Japanese men.

Hiroki was the cliche of the Japanese man with the Lolita complex

The Lolita complex (also called lolicon in Japan) is a term used to describe a sexual attraction to young girls who are underage or appear to be so.

Unfortunately, in Japan, this complex has taken on a life of its own. It is no secret that many old Japanese men love very young girls dressed in a school uniform. Indeed, I've always looked ten years younger but… still.. seeing me as a "little girl" is messed up.

The Lolita complex is not a new phenomenon in Japan; it has been around for centuries. In Japan’s past, young girls were often sold into prostitution, and men were allowed to marry girls as young as 12 years old. Although these practices are no longer legal, there remains a fascination with young girls in Japan that goes beyond innocent admiration.

The Lolita Complex is a troubling aspect of Japanese culture that deserves greater attention. And when playing this messed-up game with Marion, I’ve realized the depth of it. This obsession with younger girls in Japan can sometimes blur the line between what is appropriate and what is not.

It took me an entire month before healing from this traumatic experience with Hiroki. Right after, I texted another friend Takeshi as I relate in Sexless Japan Has Ruined My Youth. But that is another story…

Did you love this piece? This is an extract of a book I’m working on.

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