Chapter 1

Obedience. It’s the way I was brought up. I was trained to obey my superiors from the day I was born in Hong Kong.

I was the first born to a wealthy family. Of course, my father had been wishing for a boy; my brother was born four years after I was, but tragically, our mother died in childbirth.

Father hates communism, and wanted to leave ever since Hong Kong was handed over to China. When I was 18 he sent us to live in Canada. While he stayed on in Hong Kong to run the business, I was charged with establishing a new home base for our family in Vancouver.

I had never had a boyfriend. Somehow, being the woman of our house had made me too serious a person, I had been forced into the matriarchal role as a young girl. I had to set the perfect example to my younger brother, the jewel of my father’s eye.

I worked, studied, and became proficient at rebuffing even the slightest overtures from men.

It became second nature to me; when they smiled, I didn’t smile back. If they dared to ask me out, they were left in little doubt as to their error. Men were to be avoided; one day, my father would arrange a suitable husband for me. In the meantime, his approval could be maintained by obedience, serious hard work, and avoiding frivolity.

So when I arrived with my brother to take up residence in our new country, I carried on as before. I attended a university; I have to admit there was some culture shock.

I had no trouble with the work, I was already used to working in English. But socially, I found things difficult. The young men didn’t seem to want to accept the fact that I preferred to keep myself to myself.

That’s when I started wearing a gold ring on my left hand, and telling everyone I was already married.

When I was 21, I earned my degree and found work with a prestigious advertising firm. Promotion and advertising was our family business in Hong Kong, and I wanted to gain some real experience in Canada.

It was a very exciting time for me; my first taste of what I thought would be real life. Interacting with real people, trying to get by on the merits of my creativity and intelligence.

I was well aware how important physical attractiveness is. I was also well aware that I possessed a good measure of this quality.

Like most of my family, I’m rather tall for a Chinese person. I have a slim figure, clear skin, lustrous hair, and an attractive face. I’m always careful to dress well, rather to the conservative side, but always with taste.

I didn’t want to influence things by my appearance; I wanted to progress by the power of my intellect. To me, being attractive in the office was merely a courtesy to my colleagues.

I suppose I was naive to think that it had little part in my employer making me his personal assistant.

For the first six months, everything went well; our relationship was courteous, professional, and respectful. He truly did appreciate my work. Many of my ideas were incorporated into our campaigns. I was known as “Mrs. Wong”, and I thought of myself as content.

And then my employer, Barnaby McDonnell, asked me to dinner. At his home, with his wife and my husband.

My brother was already tall and handsome. It wasn’t the first time I’d asked him to pose as my fictitious spouse. This deception had become second nature to us.

Barnaby McDonnell was a handsome man. Despite his age, in his mid 60s somewhere, he was fit and attractive. At that time, I was so accustomed to denying my sexuality, that I didn’t recognize the fact that I found him so. But I realized later that I had had those feelings for some time.

His wife Joy was a fitting match for him. She had the same striking blue eyes. She was tall and blond, with impressively slim hips for a woman of her age. She had a certain style and grace; class, I suppose. Her hair was cut just above her shoulders, and curled forward into perfect little points next to her strong jaw, in a style from her generation.

Sam and I enjoyed our dinner with Joy and Barney. We laughed and socialized; we had so few friends in this cold country, even after being here for so long. It was time to assimilate.

We were invited over again the following Friday evening, and again the Friday after that.

Barney was a married man; I was posing as a married woman. I suppose I let my guard slip. I let him into my consciousness. I let his blue eyes stare into mine too many times, for too long. I let myself fantasize of him, fingering my lonely groin as I took my bath. A girl has to have some pleasure in her life, after all.

So that evening, that unforgettable evening that I gave myself to him, when he put his arm around my shoulders, I let it rest there. His hand squeezed me gently as we continued our conversation about something irrelevant.

His fingertips stroked my neck, and I felt a shiver run through my body. I found myself looking forward to taking a bath. A hot sensual finger bath.

With his other hand, he rolled my palm open on my lap, and he stroked it, from my wrist to my fingertips. I became afraid; I felt a hot flush in my face, and tightness between my legs. I was 22 years old, and a virgin; I needed a man, and I knew it. I didn’t know it was going to be Barney, and that I’d be having much more than a finger that night.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered into my eyes.

Although I desired him, I resisted. My conditioning came back to me suddenly, and I was shocked to realize what was happening; I was sitting on the couch with a man, his arm was around my shoulder, his face was too close.

“No, Barney! We’re both married, it isn’t right. Where is Sam and Joy?” I asked him, standing up.

He looked at me in a strange, bemused kind of way. “Where they always are at this time on a Friday night, Cin. In the bedroom.”

I felt my stomach suddenly convulse; I felt dizzy. Thoughts and realizations flooded through my brain. I’m an intelligent woman, how had I ignored this obvious reality?

Every time we came here, I sat and talked with Barney. Closer and closer we had talked together, as a warm comfortable feeling grew larger and larger inside me. All week I looked forward to Friday. How had I overlooked the fact that his wife and my brother always left us alone for an hour or two? It was as if there had been a bleeding corpse on the floor for a month, and I’d been stepping around it without noticing.

The fact that I’d deluded myself was more shocking to me than the fact that my younger brother was upstairs in a bedroom with a middle-aged married woman.

“No; that’s not true!” I said, staring at my would-be lover.

“Relax, Cin;” he said to me soothingly. “Stop listening to your brain and listen to your heart. Let yourself go, let yourself enjoy life. You’re a very beautiful woman, you’re so smart and able. You have nothing to fear; I know you feel the same as I do. I can tell you have the same desire. The only question is whether or not you dare to take your pleasure with me.”

I knew he was right; my vagina was pulsing, I could barely maintain my balance. I wanted him, I wanted to be a woman at last. I wanted to feel his confident hands on my naked flesh, I wanted to taste his lips.

I wanted his long lean strong body to press against me, to hold me tight, to make me do the things I wanted but was too afraid to admit.

22 years of conditioning doesn’t evaporate that easily. Men were forbidden to me, I must be strong! The conflict was so powerful, it was making me nauseous.

Barney stood and stepped up to me. He took my hands and looked down into my eyes. I was frozen with fear and desire as he slowly bent his head, bringing his lips closer. Closer, until they touched mine.

In the west, even in Hong Kong these days, a kiss is not that big a thing I suppose. But I had never kissed a man, never. A rush of excitement flooded through me as my fear increased. His arms encircled me, and my body surrendered to his in a moment of utter bliss such as I’d never known.

And it was just a kiss, remember. Just a kiss. A kiss in the arms of a man, his strong primal heat warming me until I might boil, his hairy roughness scraping against my perfect smooth shell.

I found myself thinking I could just die; now I had known this brief moment of happiness, I could just die before the shame and consequences would strike.

His thick barbarian tongue pressed at my lips; like a snake, it eased into me, touching my teeth, toying with my own frightened tongue. I surrendered myself to the sensation, to the feeling of his overpowering desire. No, MY overpowering desire.

“Let’s go upstairs.” He said quietly. “It’s time, Cin.”

“No. We must stop now.” I whispered unconvincingly.

“Let’s go upstairs and look for your husband and my wife.” He suggested, “Let’s see what they’re doing.”

I allowed him to lead me by the hand; silently, we ascended to the next level.

There was a closed door, and an open one. We entered the spare room. There was a bed, filling the space available.

I followed him past the bed, outside onto a veranda. It extended beyond the room we were in; He beckoned me to come look in through a window.

I didn’t want to look; I knew that I shouldn’t look. But I couldn’t stop myself. I did look. In the half light of my host’s bedroom, I could see my brother experiencing Joy. The two bodies intertwined; limbs and hair all mixed together. My brother’s strong young body, naked in the arms of my boss’s wife.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away; I knew that I shouldn’t even see such a thing. My brother shouldn’t be doing what he was doing, but how could I stop him? Here in the west, these things were permissible. His married lover was three times his age, but she was a beautiful woman. She was teaching my brother something he should know.

I felt the zipper of my dress descending behind me, falling as fast as my morals. I felt the chill of the night against my skin. Barney’s warm hands stroked my back, smoothly moving up to my shoulders to slide the garment from my paralyzed body.

I couldn’t face him; I just stood still as he kissed his way up my naked spine, before pulling my hair to one side to bite my neck sensuously. His hands circled my hips, to my flat young belly, before rising smoothly to my breasts.

The feeling of his warm hands on my body was shocking; I was shivering in sheer pleasure. I had never been touched that way before, I had never even imagined the intensity of the sensation. I didn’t want to want my boss. I was wet between my legs.

I would be considered quite generously endowed in China, but here in Canada my breasts seem quite modest. Barney unhooked my bra with an easy practiced movement, and cupped my appendages in his hands. A warm rush of ecstasy blasted through my naïve virgin frame as his old hands kneaded my untouched breasts. I didn’t want it to end, even though I did.

On the other side of the glass, my lover’s wife rolled my brother under herself, and I watched her long thin body rise and fall over him as he fondled her loose but generous breasts and looked into her pretty face rapturously.

I started to shiver; the sight and sensation was just too much for me. Barney held me tightly, nuzzling my neck as my breasts filled his hands. He teased my nipples gently, as I had done to myself so often. I was amazed at how different it felt when he did it; as though my nipples were directly connected to my vagina, I felt myself getting wetter as he fondled me.

“Go with it, Cin. Don’t fight it; look at how perfect it all is; you want me, I want you. Sam wants Joy, and she wants him. It’s beautiful, it’s exciting.”

Consciousness seemed to blur after that; I was the Primal Cin. All my civilization was suspended as I surrendered. He was an older man, he was my boss. All my conditioning told me to obey.

I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. The truth was that I wanted it.

I allowed him to pull me back through the balcony door to the waiting bed. He pushed my dress down to my ankles, turned me, pushed me down onto the mattrass.

I lay still, naked in the bed watching as his clothes came off; he was well built for a man his age, although his skin wasn’t perfect and he was terribly hairy.

I asked myself why I was letting this happen, why I didn’t scream, run away home. My nipples stood erect as my body waited for him.

And then his strong old body eased onto the bed, looming over me, his penis barely touching my belly. My hand reached for it, grasping the male organ for the first exciting time. It grew and stiffened, my boss smiled down at me, and I knew that the die was cast. There was no stopping now, no point in resisting my true desire.

He lowered his body onto me, I took my hand away and his hot penis was trapped between us, the wonderful shared heat of lovemaking growing where our flesh met.

We kissed and touched for a long time like that; I took his penis in my hand again, once more frightened by my crumbling chastity, yet incredibly excited by the sensations I was experiencing. It felt so good to hold him, to fondle his sexual organs, to feel his heat and power. To submit at last.

I was a subordinate, there was no way for me to refuse even if I’d wanted to. I had to let him do it.

When at last he moved to penetrate me, to put his hard white penis inside my body, I opened myself willingly. I lay still and open, and he very gently pushed against me. It burned in a wonderful way, I could feel my own juices running cold down my thigh they were flowing so.

And he entered me; his hot stiff penis slid into my body, a feeling so strange, so alien, yet so oddly natural. A terrifying feeling, and at the same time, a good feeling.

My old Caucasian boss was inside my body!

I was invaded; invaded by a man for the first time. A warm living organ inserted there, as it was made to have; not a bottle neck or a finger this time. The real thing, fearsome and alive.

I convulsed in orgasm; just feeling it there, knowing he was deep inside me set me off. I stared at him as I came, gripping him with all my strength, afraid to release him lest he remove himself.

Then, just as the force of the feeling began to subside, he started. He pumped and thrusted, pulling his hard penis out and pushing it back in vigorously, again and again and again!

I’ve heard that some women don’t enjoy their first experience very much, perhaps due to the stress and fear. I can’t say I was free of those emotions, but my first intercourse was utterly amazing despite them.

It didn’t last very long by the clock, but in my mind it seemed an infinity of passionate pleasure, pumping penetrating carnal overload.

He gripped me by my hair and kissed me deeply as he held himself deep inside me and ejaculated. He groaned and shivered, I was his to use as he liked.

He wore no protection. He just shot me full of sperm as if it was his right to do so.

Looking back, that seems like the biggest liberty he took. To deposit his old white semen inside my fertile body without even discussing it with me first.

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” I asked my brother as he drove us home.

“Yes.” He said, cautiously.

“You had Joy?” I asked, saying “Joy” in English.

“Yes.” He said, staring at the road.

We said nothing more about it. What was there to say?

I was afraid I would be somehow ruined by my experience. I would become a brainless oriental bimbo.

Of course, that didn’t happen; in fact, I was amazed at how my life went on exactly as before.

Barney didn’t change the way he treated me in the office. He was still my boss, but didn’t take advantage. Sometimes, I wished he would take me in his arms and kiss me again. I wanted to feel his affection. I wanted to know I was wanted. I wanted to feel the terror, the pleasure, of his stiff old penis thrust into me as I whimpered in humiliating surrender.

At the same time, I didn’t want to go back to his house. I had enjoyed what we had done together, but I’d resolved not to do it again. It was just too sordid; he was my superior at work, he was older than my father, he was married.

I was glad in a way that we had done it; I was glad he had made love to me. I resolved to deny myself the pleasures of the flesh, but at least I would know now what it was that I was denying myself.

I must keep myself clean. I must wait for my father’s approval. I must wait for a proper match, for a man who would be my husband. I definitely couldn’t let myself be polluted like that again, no no no!

Besides, my brother was also being corrupted. I couldn’t allow that to continue.

Over dinner Wednesday night, I forced myself to speak to him about it.

“We must not go to McDonnell house again.” I told him.

He stared at me for a moment; “Why?” He asked.

“You know why.” I said.

“I like her.” He said, “Please sister, Friday evening has been the one indulgence in my life. Haven’t I worked hard? Haven’t I been dutiful? My grades are good, I do the housework and shopping, and after physical training I don’t have time left for dating. She makes me feel good. I know it must seem terrible to you, but I can work all week without distraction if I know I will see her again on Friday.”

We ate in silence as I considered what my brother had said. It was an incredibly forthright statement he had made; although I considered us to be very close, we never discussed such things openly.

What he had said was true; he was diligent and hard-working. He didn’t waste his time in any frivolous social activities. His sport was exhausting, and important for his college placement. I had to allow him some recreation if I expected him to continue to respect my authority.