From Jenny to Mei Ch. 04

"Yes. She was the best one of the bunch."

"She's the hooker."

"The what?"

"The hooker I was telling you about a second ago. The friend of mine."

"No shit." She said, astounded. "She's a prostitute?"

"Not anymore but that's how she got through nursing school."

"Oh my god!"

"So you see, anyone can be good and caring and dedicate themselves to others, Mei."

She looked at him.

"Mei Chun," he corrected.

She smiled.

"Wow. I wonder if I can ask her how sex with you was tomorrow?"

"Go ahead, but don't tell me unless she said it was spectacular."

"Men are so fragile. When was the last time... you know... you fucked her? She's hot for her age."

"None of your business."

"That recently huh? It's not like I'm jealous." Then she paused a moment, "Not really."

She was naked save for his dog collar, looking forward to getting drunk and hoping to god he'd take advantage of her.

With one part of her mind she still hated him, but she'd had guys she didn't particularly like before, that wasn't new. But Philip had something none of the others did. It wasn't his potential for cruelty; they all had that. It was the sense of potential she felt. Of getting to know someone really, really interesting and learning from him. She knew he had a lot to show her.

He took stuff back to the kitchen and starting plating the main course.

She'd decided on getting naked in the taxi, after having played with the idea from time to time during the day, mostly to distract herself from the hell she was living at the center.

"Let's eat at the counter," she said and sat on a stool, pushing her ass out a bit and letting her tummy touch the cold stone top. The three drinks were having their effect.

He set down the plate, three scallops, mid-sized because those were the best, a few florets of broccoli, obscenely verdant with a dribbling of yellow/white sauce and a scoop of mashed potatoes, skins and pimentos giving it some color.

She tried the potatoes first. She groaned and rolled her eyes back in her head when the flavor coated her tongue. They were unlike any potatoes she'd ever eaten. They were creamy, and tart and the little bits of pimiento gave it a salty, tangy flavor. There was garlic and a few chives and just a bit of crumpled bacon.

Her brain said, 'holy shit... ' but her mouth said, "Mmmmm." Philip was fucking Bobby Flay and come to think of it he kinda looked like him too.

The scallops were the best things ever, tender and garlicky with some lemon and a very, very faint taste of licorice. There was a sprig of something green over each one, which turned out to be a baby sage leaf.

She'd never had hollandaise sauce before but it was tangy and delicious too.

"You eat like this every night?"

"No, not every night but most nights."

"Do you ever go to restaurants?"

"Only if I admire the chef and I get a tip that it's exceptional. Or if its something I can't make."

"Like what?"

"Like sashimi."

They finished the meal talking about sex for money, mental illness and food.

She got up and did the dishes. She was becoming completely comfortable naked.

"A guy who cooks like that is either married or gay."

"Shows what you know."

"I don't see a ring," she said, bending over to put a plate in the washer, lifting her leg a bit, knowing with a certainty he was looking at her pussy lips between her ass cheeks.

"Your questioning my sexual orientation?"

"Would I get a spanking if I did?"

"You might but I suspect you are starting to enjoy them."

"I'm not saying. Speaking of which... can you describe this reward for being a good girl you'd mentioned."

"Not yet."

He made coffee. Two small cups with frothed half-and-half.

"Sit on the couch," he said and something dawned on her. She liked hearing his command voice. As she slid her naked bottom off the hard wood of the stool and sashayed to the seating area she dissected her reaction. 'Masculine, decisive, strong, determined,' we're adjectives that arose to her thoughts. They mixed with verbs she hoped applied to her, 'yeild, give, relent, orgasm.' The last one was a bit of a shock. Never, absolutely never had the idea of male superiority occurred to her in any form but disgust. Now it was a fact presented to her like standing before a mountain, towering over her, its grandure awesome.

He brought her an espresso cup and saucer and set down a small plate of pecan pralines on the table.

"Don't you think the dinner was reward enough?"

"What are those? Little cookies?"

"Pralines. I learned to make 'em in New Orleans."

She lent forward, firm breasts making a single undulation, and took one. A bite later and despite her recent half hearted attempts at restraint, she said, "Holy shit that's good."

"Stand up." there was that tone again.

"Turn around."

'Yes! Push me around.'

She turned around and hoped it wouldn't hurt too much and longed for his touch.

"Bend over a bit, put one hand on each arm of the chair."

She did, still crunching the nutty candy, the flavor of coffee strong in her mouth and without further warning the pain shot through her like a lighting bolt.

'Fuck! That is so wrong,' she thought.

"Sit down."

'Ouch! Shit that hurt! But...' What a mix of sensations. The creamy crunchy candy, lip puckeringly sweet, the earthy deep dark taste of coffee, the creamy foam and the slap on her ass that shot stars into her eyes. She deserved it but for the fist time really saw the potential for pleasure.

"Sorry. Really, I'll try harder." She found that she was sincere in her apology.

"Please do."

"You like spanking my ass?"

"I must admit to some pleasure in it. I like the way your flesh jiggles and the satisfying sound my hand makes against your skin. But it's your gasp that hardens my cock."

'Oh,' she thought, 'that's hot. He's never mentioned his cock before.' The thought of him getting hard was a powerful stimulant, one she knew she would return to time and again this evening.

"I'm not drunk yet."

"Yes? And?"

"More please master."

"You'll wait half an hour. I don't want you completely drunk. You need to be awake for what comes later."

"Oh?" Coquettishness was more Jenny than Mei Chun but he decided he liked it. "Do tell."

"No."

He turned serious, "Do you want to quit your job?"

"No."

"Is that just a non-thinking response? Clinging onto something because you're afraid and the something you know is better than the something you don't?"

"Yes."

"What have you got to loose? You don't like it. You don't make much. What's keeping you there?"

"Eating mostly. I'm kind of fond of regular meals and a roof over my head."

He looked around.

"Your kidding!? You've only been blackmailing me a week and you want me to move in with you? Quit my job and be your twenty-four hour slut?"

"No. Not really, that's not what I was thinking."

"Bullshit. You're the one with all the answers but, Philip, I know men ok?"

"Really. I wasn't thinking of you moving in here. I was thinking of you finding more fulfilling work, even if that means volunteer work."

"No."

"You may not know this yet but I make a lot of money. The companies I work for are in a funny position. It's like living with a fighting dog, great for defense but if it turns on you you're fucked. Know what I mean? So they pay extra well and try always to be nice to me."

"Ok, great but I don't want to live here."

"I'm not asking you to live here... get it through your head. My question is ... my offer... my... fuck... if you want to work somewhere else but aren't doing so because of the money I am just saying that that's not a problem... Ok? Don't presume; ok?"

"Right, because while it's sweet and all that you want me to live with you I just can't. I mean blackmailing me and all is nice but ... and you cook like a mother... like a chef, it's just too early in our totally fucked up relationship to think about that. Don't you think?"

"Just shut up."

She stood, her hands flat on her thighs. It was really sweet what he was saying.

He looked at her like he didn't know what she was doing or thinking, which, he didn't.

She moved closer. "You get so cute when you're flustered."

"I'm not flustered."

"Ok, horny."

"I'm ... " That honesty thing should go both ways he figured. Must engender trust in her.

She took another step and was at his knees. Her pussy staring him in the face, his face staring back.

'God what lovely lips she has.'

'Look at my pussy Philip,' she willed into his mind, 'It's so soft and warm. Let me take you in. Let me ride you to heaven.'

He felt desire replace will power, like water displacing oil, one leaving him while the other took its place.

She placed her hand in his hair. "Look at my pretty pussy, Philip." Her voice was like warm honey. She was like a stage hypnotist. A really good one.

She reached down for his hand and gently brought it up to her breast when she stood.

"It's so soft, my pussy, the hair is really soft, like silk."

'Jesus, it looks soft.'

"I think I'm getting wet."

She pressed his hand firmly against her breast and felt his grip tighten. She gasped.

"Can't you suck my pussy, Philip, as my reward for being a good girl?" She said it so softly. "Let me grind it into your chin and smear all my wetness on your face? Hmmm?"

She began to swing her hips in a circle, a sort of preview.

He felt her nipple harden beneath his palm. It was getting out of control, out of his control and that couldn't happen.

"Then I'll beg for you to fuck me like you want."

"No." It was a whisper.

"Are you sure? Let me test it out and see if you like it."

She stood wider.

"Please fuck me, Philip... Please."

It might have been real or it might have been fake, he couldn't tell. Was she toying with him? Maybe, maybe not, it didn't matter. He stood up. Looked in her eyes and the flash she saw in them told her she'd made a mistake.

He went to the bedroom and tossed, "Stay here," over his shoulder.

He needed to cool down. He needed to consider. He was tempted, genuinely tempted to take what progress that had been made and settle for it. He thought there was perhaps a forty percent chance things would go ok and that the changes she'd made would stick. Then he realized it was an illusion, just wishing. She'd be back to her old self in a weak and all because he'd lost his nerve.

He returned and sat down next to her.

"Do you know why I left?"

"Because I'm a whore?" she said, dejection clear in her voice.

"Because it's not time. Even if you meant it. I will reward you the way I choose and if I let you wear that collar and walk around naked and call that your reward you'll acknowledge it and be appreciative."

She looked confused. 'Didn't he want sex?'

"Do you know why I'm going to punish you?"

"Because I'm a whore." Depression descended on her again.

"Because you still don't understand your place."

He got his jacket from the back of a chair, his keys from a bowl on the desk.

"You will wake up at 7:30. You will take the taxi at 8:00 and return to the center."

His punishment was isolation.

"But where are you going?" Her tone of panic was clear.

He didn't say, but reached for the handle.

"Sarah? Going to see that whore?" she said and instantly cringed.

His hand froze on the round brass door knob. His head slowly turned. She saw those eyes, like green dragons.

With angry determination he put the jacket over the tool covered table and the keys back in the bowl. He walked over to the kitchen, footsteps clicking on the wood floor.

"Bend over the couch," he said, fumbling in a drawer.

He came around the counter, passed the low bookshelf, the top of which served as a table behind the couch. She was over the arm, feet on the floor.

He stood behind her.

"Put your arms back."

He tied her wrists and forearms together with kitchen twine then pushed her head down, her face on the couch seat.

A mysterious excitement coursed through her as he tied her ankles.

He spanked her. Starting firmly but not putting much behind the strokes. More like strong taps, one slap every ten seconds.

"Why am I spanking you?"

"Because I talked back?"

"Yes!" He hit her hard as he said it and the crack echoed off the wall of glass blocks.

"Ouch! Oww. Shit!"

Another resounding 'Smack'.

"What was that one for?" he demanded.

Immediately after the impact, he lightly touched his fingers over the reddening flesh.

"Because I curse like a whore."

"Yes!" Another powerful slap.

"Oh god." It was pain, pure and simple.

"And did you deserve it?"

"Yes." She tensed to receive the blow and relaxed when it didn't come.

'Smack!'

"And what was that one for?"

She didn't know. She was getting confused, mostly by the tingling sensation just behind her clit.

"Hurry, don't make me wait."

'What the fuck?!' She didn't know.

'Smack'

"Ouch. Shiiiiit."

'Smack!'

"That was because you braced in anticipation, trying to lessen the pain." He changed his tone slightly. "When I give you pain, it's a gift. It's to teach you an important lesson."

She thought about it, didn't like it but conceded to herself that it might be true in this upside down universe she'd fallen into.

His voice was calm, almost lovingly so, which just added to her bewilderment.

"It's a way to let you know that I'm not pleased. You do you want to know when I'm not pleased, don't you?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

His words forced her to consider the question. The answer came immediately. She did care if he was pleased. At that moment, she realized, it was the only thing she was sure she did care about.

He returned to the feather light strokes.

"Why are you such a whore Jenny?"

"Don't call me that!"

'Smack!' Another strong slap.

She began to cry.

"When you're a whore I'll use the whore's name. And you don't give orders. Understand?"

"Yes master. But it hurts."

"Spanking is supposed to hurt. It wouldn't really be spanking if it didn't, now would it?"

"Not that. You calling me that. That bitch's name. It's like you're crushing me."

"Good." He returned to caresses an her sobs continued. "I'm crushing that whore out of you."

His fingers and his soft voice felt good.

"Why are you such a whore, Jenny?"

"Because it's what men want."

"Don't stop."

"It's what I can give. It's all that I have and it's all men want. You don't know what it's like. Every man that looks at me, all they see is a thin pretty Asian girl. And I know they all just want to fuck me and own me. And I feel that if I give enough men what they want maybe things will change."

"I'm a man."

"You don't want me. I'm too dirty for you so you have to beat me and call me whore and slut and tell me you love me."

"Don't you feel that I love you?"

"No."

"Didn't I tell you?"

"They why am I tied and bent over a couch getting an ass whipping?"

"You tell me."

'Smack!' Another scream. "I don't know!"

'Smack!' "Don't lie to me!" his voice a bellowing that filled the large room. 'Smack!' "Tell me!"

"Because you love me, goddammit, because you're so fucked up in the head that you beat the women you love."

'Smack!' "Try again."

"Because," she sniffled and paused. "Because..." sobs racked her body, "Because you really do love me and you're trying to improve me and make me worthy of you."

"And."

"And that's why you are blackmailing me and spanking me and making my life hell."

"Yes."

"It's like marine boot camp isn't it?"

He hadn't thought of that. Not a bad analogy. Cognitive dissonance was their main tool.

"Sort of, but with sex."

Her voice went soft, "So do you love me, Philip? Please, please don't lie to me."

'Smack!' "Yes!" 'Smack!'

"Oh.. goddamn that's so fucking strange."

"What?"

"Every time you hit me its like a fucking bell goes off inside my cunt."

'Smack!' "Watch your filthy mouth whore."

"If you love me then stick your finger up my ass again and prove it."

'Smack!' "Why did I spank you?"

"Because I'm a whore!" she screamed as loud as she could, lacerating her vocal cords.

"No, I might as well whip a dog because of its color. It was because you can't stop trying to control. You still want to be in charge. You won't make any progress until your submission."

Submission. The word had always meant nothing to her. It was like the word 'uranium.' She knew what it was, she knew it existed but she'd never seen it, it didn't play any role in her life, it had no meaning to her.

When Philip said it, it was a different word. Submission now had a mysterious allure.

"Say it again, please."

"Submit!" 'Smack!'

"Oh!" The word's new meaning appeared in her consciousness together with the fresh jolt of pain, like the wet and hot of coffee. Her exclamation had a triple meaning, pain, pleasure, enlightenment.

"Tell me about submission master."

He really wished she would stop calling him that, but maybe it was what she needed. Maybe her mind was filling in the blanks.

"Submission is freedom. Your freedom Mei Chun."

It was as though he was singing to her, the sound so sweet in her ear.

"By letting go you'll free yourself of Jenny and give Mei Chun a chance to live. You'll be pure again. You'll have purpose."

"What purpose?" She knew but she wanted to be sold on it again.

"To please me and to please others. To be nice and to care about people."

"Will I be good if I submit?"

"You'll be beautiful."

"But what about me?"

"You mean what happens to Jenny?"

"Yes."

He was back to stroking her now, the gentle fingers across her buttocks made an irresistible contrast to the pain, like the sting of the vodka against the sweetness of the juice in the cocktail. He'd kept alternating the two so she began to anticipate the pain when the tickling came and longed for the smooth touch of his fingers as the slap resounded from the strike. She figured that was the point and went with it.

"You fear being neglected but that's because you can only think about yourself. You won't have time to think about yourself. You'll be focused outside not inside. You'll be so full of the world outside yourself there won't be any room for the selfish bitch you are now. Jenny will disappear and Mei Chun will take her place."

It sounded like a dream too good to be true. A rebirth. Just like it was marketed in church. But she believed him. She believed he could do it. If only she had the strength to give her will to him.

"Then spank me again."

'Hmmm,' he thought, 'that's got to be a good sign.'

'Smack!'

"Ohhh... my."

"That pain is my love for you."

'Smack!'

"Oh shit. Oh I feel it. Show me again."

'Smack!' 'Smack!' 'Smack!' 'Smack!'

'Wow... this is so fucked up. How can pain be such a turn on?' Then another insight flashed across her mind, 'It's not the pain stupid, it's who's giving it to you.'

He changed subject, needing to get her back on track.

"Tell me why you're a whore Jenny."

Hearing him call her that dumped all the self-loathing back down on her, like a dump truck disgorging a load of dirt. Like her painful progress was being denied. She sobbed fresh tears. 'This better be worth it,' she thought.

"Don't make me wait!" 'Smack!'

"Aahhh! Fuck!"

'Smack!'

"Because, I told you. It's the only way a man will love me."

"Love you? Who could love a cold bitch?"

More tickling and now open palmed caresses over her buttocks and hips, moving to the top of her thighs.

He felt the heat from her flesh and her pussy lips, puffy with blood.

"No one. Not even you."

'Smack!' "Don't challenge me." 'Smack!' "Don't contradict me."

"Yes master."

She was biting her lip hard.

"You never wanted love, Jenny."