In late November, a teenage girl appeared at a police station and said she had escaped from an apartment in Tokyo after being held there for two months. Her testimony opened the door to a case that opened up a can of worms, revealing alleged confinement, hidden-camera pornography, extortion — with one man who refers to himself as “Itadaki Ojisan” behind it all.
The suspect, 39-year-old Yohei Ono, is accused of orchestrating a scheme that combined online romance, intimidation and Japan’s civil adultery laws to extract millions of yen from women. As investigators continue to examine seized devices, the case has raised uncomfortable questions about shame, power and the legal gray zones surrounding relationships in modern Japan.
Who Is ‘Itadaki Ojisan?’
According to investigators, Ono met women through social media, including teenagers and women in their 20s. He would message them frequently, build trust and arrange meetings in hotels or apartments. In several cases, these relationships became sexual.
In the most serious allegation, a teenage girl told police she had been forced to live in an apartment in Tokyo’s Shinjuku Ward. She said her phone and identification were taken, she was threatened with violence if she tried to leave and was verbally degraded — allegedly called a “dog” and told she was “less than human.” Police later reported finding items such as collars and handcuffs in the apartment.
After Ono’s arrest, authorities seized dozens of smartphones and computers. Data analysis reportedly uncovered more than 860 explicit videos believed to have been filmed without consent, involving over 100 women. Some of the footage were uploaded and sold online, generating an estimated ¥50 million in revenue over roughly two years.
The name “Itadaki Ojisan” — roughly meaning “the taking uncle” — appears to have been self-assigned. The phrase echoes Itadaki Joshi Ririchan, a sugar baby scammer who gained notoriety for coaching women on how to extract money from men through romance manipulation. Investigators believe Ono adapted that logic into a male-centered model.
The Mechanics of the Scam: How the Trap Was Set
Police allege the core scheme worked like this: Ono would hide the fact that he was married and meet women, sometimes through papakatsu (compensated dating). After sex, a woman claiming to be his wife would contact the victim and demand millions of yen in damages for adultery.
But that “wife,” investigators say, was not an unsuspecting spouse.
Ono was living with two women — his legal wife and another woman described as a common-law partner and adopted daughter. Authorities suspect the trio coordinated via LINE, even discussing potential “targets.” In multiple cases, women reportedly paid large sums out of fear of being sued or exposed.
Prosecutors have since charged the suspects not only over the alleged extortion scheme but also over secret filming and the confinement of a teenage girl.
Why the Itadaki Ojisan Scheme Worked
Part of the scheme’s power lies in a specific feature of Japanese law: adultery is not a criminal offense, but it is a civil wrong. A spouse can sue both their partner and the third party for damages. Courts have recognized such claims, and compensation can reach millions of yen.
Even the threat of a lawsuit — especially one framed as a moral accusation — can be intimidating. For women involved in papakatsu, a subculture that already exists in a social gray zone, the risk of public exposure and reputation damage can feel devastating.
In that sense, the alleged “Itadaki Ojisan” model weaponized both the legal framework of adultery compensation claims and the deep social stigma surrounding infidelity.
The addition of hidden cameras raised the stakes even further. If a victim resisted payment, there was the implied risk of explicit footage being distributed.
The case also reflects a broader truth about contemporary Japan: intimacy is increasingly mediated by apps and direct messages, where identities can be carefully curated. The same digital tools that enable connection can also enable manipulation, where screenshots, recordings and chat histories can easily become bargaining chips.
At the same time, this case suggests the rise in victims speaking up and digital traceability. “Itadaki Ojisan” may have tried to turn intimacy into a business model, but the exposure of the case reveals the limits of that exploitation — and the risks of building a life on manipulation in an era where everything leaves a digital trace.
