Stories from My Grandmother's Diary

Disclaimer: This story does not describe any sexual activity involving anyone under 18 years.

Synopsis: Victoria has left Hong Kong and is building a new life for herself in a remote colony of the British Empire. She is finding life just as interesting as it was in Hong Kong.

1895 - July to September.

So I am safe at last. China is behind me, Hong Kong a dream ago. I have my money, my gold, my clothes, memorabilia, everything I wanted, except Li. Everything I worked for, all the intrigue I went through to bring me to this place, it all worked. I no longer have to whore myself to survive in a bitter world. I am now twenty-five years old and a spinster.

It's winter here, but only a mild winter. Not as warm as Hong Kong's winters, but much warmer than London's. I have deposited sufficient funds into a bank, which I can here, I can own property, vote now, or soon as the Queen Proclaims the new laws, I can do almost anything, legally, in South Australia. This was the only place I can present myself as an independent woman, without a man to support me and not be excluded from society, thrown into gaol, stripped of my wealth. Who would have thought an insignificant outpost of the Empire could be so free in its attitudes towards women. I don't really need to work, but I may find a job, just I have no idea what, given that women work for considerably less money than men. I can start my own store, if I want, no law can stop me. I definitely don't want to return to prostitution, at least not in a small village like this colonial town.

I could buy a house and make it over to a bawdy house. I don't have my Li here to show me how to set it up and run it, it wouldn't be too difficult, I might consider. I don't know who I would have to pay to keep it open either, but I want to leave that life behind. There will be few people from China, especially Chinese, coming to this colony; soon my former life will be forgotten.

Reading back through my diaries, I remind myself of the places I went, the people I met, the men and women I would spend a night or two with, the riches they showered me with. The wife of the Governor of Macau, a beautiful Portuguese woman, bearing children to a man she cannot stand to have touch her. Several of the high ranking Mandarins, but no English Taipans, only Chinese and their wives, their concubines. I was the only English woman they could safely approach for 'ta de ma', or fucking in crude English vernacular. For that, they paid me well and kept their silence.

I had a great many intimate moments, going from an immature, naive 19-year old, with both men and women, sometime both at once, sometimes more men, to a more worldly twenty five year old, having been well paid for something I loved to do. Li gave me several going away presents, some jade and others ivory prongs, if I needed to take care of my bodily demands. Once I settled here, I could relax and use them. I quickly bought a small cottage, complete with indoor plumbing and a coal gas hot water system. I still boiled the water, but that was habit, perhaps not needed here, but one never knows what one is actually drinking with water.

I quickly settled into a life, and for a small, less than sixty year old colony, this was a thriving, surprisingly modern, large village. It already boasted a museum, an art gallery and a religious tolerance I have not found elsewhere. There were Welsh Mormons, German Lutherans, Catholics, Anglicans, Calvinists and other more obscure Christian sects. There was even a Musselman Mosque, for the Afghan cameleers who carried a lot of trade goods to the northern areas of the colony, all the way up to the village of Palmeston at the very top of South Australia, thousands of miles away. It has deep drainage, gas and water supplies, an electricity supply, even a telephone service, which my home had all services connected before I purchased it, unexpectedly exceeding what I had in Hong Kong.

This is a city of hotels, or 'pubs' as the locals call them. They like to think of themselves as being "The City of Churches", and yes, there are a lot of churches here. What I have noted though is that there is at least three 'pubs' for every Church, so while God may have a role to play, the Devil is certainly getting a stronger foothold. I haven't seen any bawdy houses, well, they are not in the open or gaudy here and there is no directory listing for them I have found. I'm sure the business is carried on in back alleys and in very discreet boudoirs. An interesting place, but I doubt I could ply a trade here without quickly gaining notoriety, something I wish to avoid.

My neighbours are interesting people, well, they are ordinary people, who lead confined lives, but that is precisely what I am looking for. On one side, I have a Mr and Mrs Partridge and their seven children. The children range in age from thirteen to just four years old. Mrs Partridge is harried, looking worn out and just two years older than me. I shudder at the thought that this could have been me if Father had survived that TaiFun. On the other side is a widow, Mrs Jones, and her two daughters and son, the eldest daughter is seventeen and a beautiful young woman, Irene. I got to know everyone in the street very quickly, who worked where, how many children there were. I also learned the latest gossip and scandal. One neighbour was a trollop, she was seen spending too much time with the baker, another was a drunkard, his children always in rags his wife often sporting bruises. I found there were some serious drawbacks to this community living, even though I desired it.

I quickly gained a reputation as an accomplished artist, selling my work to a Hong Kong art house. Not true, although I did dabble in paint and fashion a little. Selling my art was my income apparently, but in reality, the letters I was getting from my former lover, Li, were being replied to and posted in a variety of art frames, from small to large, from ornate to plain. It explained my wealth to my neighbours satisfaction, otherwise how would an unmarried young woman create an income sufficient to own a house. The sort of questions I didn't want asked were neatly avoided. I did receive a number of enquiries about commissions, but I made it plain that my asking prices were far too high, even for the wealthy of this small colony.

I would take excursions to nearby the countryside, often with sketching pads and a range of pencils, returning later in the day with drawn images that would become the basis of paintings. On returning from one such excursion, my life made one of those unexpected changes that made it very interesting. I had arrived at my residence, after getting off the trolley car, carrying my sketching materials, Irene was coming out of the front door of her home.

"Hello Victoria," Irene said somewhat nervously, "I'm sorry to bother you, but can we talk?"

This was unusual, but I nodded, and proceeded to enter, inviting her in. I put my bundle down and said, "And what do you want to talk about?"

"I am sorry, but this is embarrassing, and I need some help."

"Oh, go on, tell me what's the matter."

"Mother has agreed to me getting married."

"Oh congratulations. Married!" I was genuinely happy for her, but then noted to look on her face, "But that's not all for you is it?"

Irene shook her head, "No." She stumbled her next words but essentially said that her mother just refused to say anything about it.

"About what?" I asked.

"What- what happens when a- a- man-," she stopped.

"Ahh, what happens on a wedding night?" Irene nodded. "Your mother won't tell you?"

"No. I asked her and she said that I must discover that for myself."

"Oh, dear," I said, surprised a woman, a mother, would not explain the things a man and woman can do in a bed to her daughter. "I'm not sure I'm the one to tell you." I was a little reluctant to insert myself into this essentially intimate business.

"Oh no, please, I am not asking you to. I am asking if you would talk to my mother. I'm sure you know. It's not your duty to tell me, but I can't get any response from mother."

"Oh," I definitely didn't want to come between a mother and her daughter, especially over such issues.

"You and mother talk occasionally, but I am hoping you might be able to... encourage her to tell me."

Yes, we do talk, I've noticed a certain manner comes over her when we are talking, her natural reserve is relaxed when we do, but I have also noted that if any man is near, she is very quiet. "Very well, I'll think of something, but not until Saturday." A plan had already formed in my head. I knew that Irene's mother, Rose, finished her job on Saturday at 11:30 am and would arrive home at about midday.

Saturday morning I began preparing that evening's meal, not a typical English meal, but a few Chinese dishes that Li and Wong, my cook, had taught me. I didn't have any trouble getting the ingredients, well most of them, from the small Chinese grocery store near the Central Market. They were surprised the first time I went in there, alone, but speaking to them in Chinese, that was totally unexpected. There are few Chinese in the colony, but they have an active community and I am now welcome there.

I kept an eye out for Rose and as soon as I saw her, ran out the front door calling to her.

"I'm sorry bother you Rose, but I have a problem," I said, "And I hope you might help me with it."

"Oh? What can I do?"

"Well, I had invited a friend over for dinner and she just called to let me know that her husband has been taken ill. Would you care to join me?" I asked, she hesitated, "I have all this food I have begun preparing and I have to finish cooking."

Rose gave me a look, which I identified, it was a hungry look, then her normal demeanor returned, "Oh, I would love to, but the children-"

"There's only enough for two people, I sorry, otherwise I would invite you all over. Irene could prepare their dinner, under your supervision, of course," I saw her eyebrow raise, "I am expecting to have the main course ready at 6:30 so soup at six o'clock." I wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Yes, thank you," Rose replied, "Six o'clock." She hesitated, "It's been a while since anyone invited me to dinner. Thank you."

"You'll be most welcome, I assure you."

The time came and a gentle knock on the door alerted me to Rose's presence. I welcomed her then sitting her at the table, I brought her a bowl of soup. It is a broth, really, flavoured with a variety of gentle spices and two dumplings. I didn't want to fill her without her trying the main course of noodles and vegetables, sliced chicken breast, mixed with a variety of herbs and spices in a secret recipe given to me by Li. Desert was a sweet dish of custard and cream that I got from the Macau Governor's Italian chef. Rose was really surprised at my efforts, they were tasty, but she had never tried anything like it before. The flavours were unfamiliar, but she really liked them. Seems I will have a cooking partner for a while.

After dinner we got to talking. I sat her in the lounge, played a Japanese samisen, not well, but she didn't know the difference. I'm a much better pianist but I haven't managed to buy one yet. She asked a lot of questions about Hong Kong, Macau, China, Japan. These places are exotic to her, but for me, they were all part of my home for six years. I eventually got her talking about Irene and her impending marriage.

"Not for another six months yet," Rose said.

"Does Irene know anything about the world she will be living in?"

Rose went dead quiet, saying nothing for a while, "No, I don't believe so."

"Then you'll instruct her in her wifely duties then?"

Rose again said nothing, she took a breath to start to say something, but stopped. She did it again.

"Rose," I said with an air of inquiry, "Obviously there is something here that is making you feel extremely uncomfortable. I assure you, I learned a lot in China about how the way of a man is with a maid. You can't help it there, the place is so over crowded, privacy becomes something of an issue for most people, especially the poor."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and my maid, Li," I said, "She came from a poor family, and she was quite happy to be my maid, that I was a girl, not a boy."

"Oh? Why?"

"She told me about what happens," I started, but not coyly, "She also told me that she never wanted to be in that position, to share her bed with a man."

"What? Never?"

"No, never!" I was forceful, I knew then, "Li was just not attracted to men."

"To men?" Rose was really surprised, "I- I-..." She stumbled to a stop. "That's not normal."

"The Chinese think Westerners are immature when it comes to matters of the flesh," I said, "To them we are 'yemen rem', barbarians. Their attitude is simple, we are who we are. It is not that unusual for a married couple, for example, have a servant share their bed on occasion." I know, I did for many of them, being there for her, not just him, not just China or Hong Kong, but Osaka was exceptionally pleasant.

"Women..together? You mean..."

"Oh yes."

Rose was quite timorous, "But how? How would two women... I mean a man has..." She stopped.

"Kissing is a place to start."

"A woman, kissing another woman."

"Oh Rose, come, please tell me that you never had the desire to hold and kiss a woman?"

"I never!" She was lying, I could see. "It's..it's not-."

"Natural. Yes, I know," I interrupted her, "And that's just it, it is natural for some women and some men too. Like Oscar Wilde." [Ed: Wilde's trial had begun in London in April of 1895 and the colonies knew because of the international telegraph that was in place, spreading news all over the Empire.]

"Women too?"

"Yes," I replied, but this was getting boring, I stood and went to her, I touched her face, "You are so beautiful," I said quietly then leaned in and kissed her, softly, on her lips. Rose started to return the kiss, then stopped, pulled back.

"No, this.. this is wrong."

"No, it's not and you know why."

"No, I do-."

"You can lie to others as much as you like, Rose, but we know the truth. Now stop! Look inside your heart. Tell me, honestly, when your husband touched you, how did you feel?"

She stopped, looked at me, looked away, in a furtive manner and whispered, "Cold, cold inside."

"Yes, because you knew it was wrong for you," I said quietly, leaning to her again and kissing her a second time. This time she did not pull away. We broke apart and caught our breath.

"That was.... nice," Rose said.

"It'll become a lot better," I replied, "And a lot more interesting." We kissed again. This time there was an urgency in her that hadn't been there before.

"Oh please," she said when we broke again, "What do I do?"

"Why don't we go to my bedroom?" I said, softly, "It'll be more comfortable there." I took her hand and led her out of the dining room, along the passageway and into my room. I must admit, I tried to replicate my boudoir in Hong Kong, which was very plush indeed. The only real difference was the walls, in Hong Kong the walls had a very delicate pattern of very fine painted cloth, glued to the wall, here is was a cheaper, intricately patterned wallpaper. The electric lighting was subdued, with a heavy lamp alongside the bed. The bed itself cost a small fortune, to have built, to then ship here was almost as much, but it is so comfortable. A German made the mattress, with metal coils inside and a thick overlay to make it very comfortable indeed.

I turned and held Rose, kissing her again. She is not a tall woman, being of Welsh extraction, so it was easy to get her to turn her face up to mine. I began untying the laces that held her dress together and soon had her shoulders bare. Every time my lips touched her bare skin, she gasped a little at the sensuous nature of my touch. I peeled her dress down, she wasn't wearing a brassiere, using the bodice of her dress to hold her breasts firmly in place. They were exposed and it was here I thought she may reject me. I ran my fingers over an already hardened nipple, she gasped as my mouth covered hers. I held her with one arm and cupped a breast in the other all while kissing her.

I guided her back onto the bed, her skin faintly tasting of the lilac soap she had washed in before coming here. I lay her back and then mounted her. Her lower limbs were spread under mine and I could feel the junction of her thighs on my own pelvis. Holding her, kissing her, I gently ground my body into her, I felt her arms go around me and her lower body rocked in opposition to my movement, bringing our pelvis' together. She may not be experienced, but she certainly seems willing, now.

I kissed her neck, the bare skin across her chest, then a breast, taking a hardened nipple into my mouth. She clasped my head, holding it there while I suckled on one breast and caressing the other. I moved down her body, trying to pull her dress down with me. I quickly gave up, western dresses being what they are. Chinese formal and informal wear is far more practical for pleasures of the flesh.

I began to touch her between her thighs, with one hand,, returning to suckling a breast. I played with her for a while, then whispered, "I am going to undress you, completely, now. I want to see you in all your natural glory." Then I kissed her, deeply to which she responded. I pulled her with me, to stand on the side of my bed, while I peeled her clothing off her. At last, she was naked, standing in front of me, her long hair covering a breast, a hand over her womanhood. I looked at her in this pose and reached out to brush her hair over her shoulder, exposing her breast fully. She coyly placed a hand over breasts, "No, I said, I want to look." I pulled her hands away, gently, without forcing her, looking deeply into her eyes, willing her not to resist me. She didn't.

I stepped back letting her hands go and saw her for the first time, totally naked. Her breasts were sagging, evidence of the suckling she had done when her children were born. She had some marks across her belly, on her hips, again, evidence of giving birth. At the junction of her thighs was a bush of dark hair, tight curls that we glistening with the release of her inner moisture. She was beautiful and I could no longer wait to have her.

I quickly divested myself of my own garments, I stood upright, letting her see me, my full breasts, proud and taut, my fine haired bush, trimmed regularly, by me now, but Li always did it, then pleasured me with her mouth. Again I lay Rose on the bed and I kissed her thighs, pushing her limbs apart, opening her to a much closer inspection. Her woman's parts had been stretched, the folds of skin enlargened by her giving birth. It was of no consequence to me, as I could see the hardened button at the top of her lips, aroused and ready for my tongue.

I lowered my face onto her sex organs and used my tongue to touch her hardened pleasure button. I wiped around it, then lowered my mouth to lap her swollen nether lips. I prodded, poked her with my tongue, pushing into her, licking upwards, tasting her most intimate juices, covering my lips and jaw with her moisture. She was a healthy, pleasant tasting woman, who was responding to the ministrations of my tongue by pushing her hips up onto my mouth.

She gasped and moaned, she squealed in delight, and her body tensed after several minutes of my pleasuring her. She moaned loudly, gasped and held her breath, letting it out in a big moan. She fell back onto the bed, her spend evident in the change in both volume and taste of her love canal. She gulped air, moaning, crying a little as she declared she had never experienced anything like what I did to her before. "What was it?" she asked as I kissed my way back up her body.

"It was the most intimate pleasure. The Chinese call it 'xìng gaocháo', a high ending." I kissed her, reaching down to run my hand over her hair-covered mons. I felt for her little prong, caressing it, gently rubbing it in a circular motion. She moaned into my mouth as I kissed her, over and over as my fingers circled her pleasure button, her 'yindi'. I kept the motion going and soon she again went through her ending a second time. I ran my fingers up her body, caressing different parts of her as she lay, supine and depleted from my actions.