Chapter 206: Lily's Gifts

Tuesday, May 10, 2005 (Continued)

Julia called me when the mansion shoppers started heading home, asking me to call for Lily to come with her presents.

The mansion shoppers arrived first, Mom reporting, "We didn't find anything good this evening, but we didn't expect to. We've now seen all the possibly suitable properties that are on the market, so we'll draw up our shortlist and start reviewing them more carefully."

Carol was especially looking forward to that, because she hadn't seen many of the best houses on the weekend. "It's incredible that we could be living in a house like the ones I saw. Mark, they're fantastic! They've got..." Carol started raving about all the various features these houses had. I nodded encouragingly at parquet flooring and granite balustrades. Or was it granite flooring and parquet balustrades? Not knowing what half the words meant didn't help me.

Fortunately Lily arrived soon after Carol started. I happily rushed to answer her knock on the front door, and even more happily helped her carry her several bags in.

After all the greetings and settling everybody down, I got to open my presents. It was just like my birthday, except all the presents came from one person. The first one was a small box that opened to reveal a new watch. A big, chunky, real-man's watch. The wonderful thing was that its face was the IDENTICAL color to my ring. I put them side by side, and they matched perfectly.

Julia asked, "Do you like it Mark?"

"I love it! I think it's fantastic."

I stripped off the old watch, putting on the new one. The band wasn't the right size, but I knew that was easily taken care of later. Both the ring and watch were on my same hand, and only a few inches apart, so their matching so precisely really stood out.

Julia exclaimed, "Well done, Lily! How did you find a watch with a color so close to Mark's ring? It's almost perfect."

"Luck. I see in store. Big watch okay, Mark?"

"It's VERY good. I like it much better than a small watch. I'm wearing this one from now on, as soon as the band's adjusted."

^-- I turned to Julia, asking, "Julia, why did you say the color was close to my ring, when it's exactly the same?"

"It's not the same, but it's very close. You have to look fairly hard to see they're different."

So I looked at them again, considerably more than "fairly hard." Then I told Julia, "They're identical."

All the females disagreed with me.

I took the watch off to hold it right beside my ring, and I stared at them intently.

I asked the room, "How is it possible that two objects look like they have identical coloring to me, but have different colors to the females? That doesn't make any sense."

Mom explained, "Females can see shades guys can't. It doesn't matter in this case because the shades are close enough that people won't be able to tell when you're wearing them and moving around."

"Certainly not the males, by the sounds of it."

I was motioned to pass the watch around so everyone could look at it closely. I passed it to Carol, who exclaimed, "My God! It weighs a ton. Are you really going to wear this thing?"

"Absolutely. I think it's a great watch."

"You're going to walk in circles!"

Carol passed it to Donna, who pretended to be pulled to the floor by its weight. As it went around the room, the females were all shocked by its weight, telling me, "You'll fall over sideways", "Once you sit down you'll never get up again," and the like. They weren't just joking, but genuinely couldn't believe that I would want to wear a watch that heavy.

"You can't talk, Mom. I've picked up your handbag sometimes, and it weighs a lot more than that watch."

"I can put my bag down. You'll be carrying that around all the time."

"I think you're all exaggerating. It's simply a good, solid watch; not anything more than that. Obviously guys do wear watches that heavy, or the company wouldn't have made it."

Julia said, "It's a very good brand too: Breitling. They make excellent watches. While I remember, you'll have to wear your cellphone on the right now Mark."

"But you told me to wear it on the left because it complemented my ring so well. The watch is virtually the same color, so it must still match?"

"Three colorful pieces so close together is too many."

"Matching depends on color AND the number of pieces?"

"Yes," answered Julia, with the other females nodding their agreement.

"Who makes up these BIZARRE rules!"

Vanessa said, "This year I think it's being done by Susan Duffy. She's a farmer's wife in Montana. She's not very good at it. Too much time hanging around with cows, I guess."

While the females were teasing me, Dad told me he liked the watch, adding, "I wouldn't mind one like it myself." That made the score 2-0; the females' votes clearly being irrelevant about masculine watches.

I praised Lily for having more sense than American women, very sincerely thanking her for my wonderful new watch.

Smiling happily, Lily moved on to the next gift, opening a bag to extract the first of two shoe boxes, passing it to me. I wasn't looking forward to this. Buying shoes in a pain in the ass, as well as a pain in the foot. Not as bad as that literally (especially the ass part), but it involves uncomfortable trial and error, lots of walking back and forth, rejecting many uncomfortable pairs, etc. It wasn't likely that Lily's purchases would be any good.

The first box contained a very nice looking pair of what's called "men's dress shoes", despite men very rarely wearing them with dresses.

Several of the women said, "Ohh, nice shoes!" or the like. Followed immediately by calls of, "Try them on." That was the part I was hoping to put off until I had privacy, so the likely bad fit wouldn't happened in front of Lily and so many other people.

I said, "I'll try them on later."

You can probably guess how they all responded to that. A few seconds later the first shoe was being held open and ready for me. It'd only taken a second to get it ready as the shoes didn't have laces, just a velcro patch. That makes them sound cheap, but that's absolutely not how they looked. They were brightly polished, very dark gray leather, with the velcro hidden under a leather panel. Having no laces and a flat same-leather panel over that area gave them a very sleek, elegant, expensive look.

I cautiously put the first one on, expecting to have to control my expression when the discomfort started. I got it all the way on and there was still no discomfort. It felt like a great fit. "Let me try the other one too."

Soon I was walking back and forth, saying, "How is it possible that Lily can buy me shoes that fit perfectly just from drawing the outline of my feet, but I have to try on half the store when Mom takes me shopping for good shoes and I still never end up with a pair that fits as well as these?"

I didn't get an answer, so I praised Lily again.

Mom queried, "Are they really that good?"

"The most comfortable dress shoes I've ever had, and they're better than most of the casual shoes I've worn."

Mom made me stand in front of her so she could do that pressing-her-thumb-into-the-front-of-my-shoe thing, to check the length of the shoe versus the length of my foot. She expressed her satisfaction with the result. I couldn't imagine what would happen if you walked into an American shoe store with two drawings of feet of someone several thousand miles away and asked for shoes to fit, but however it's done in Hong Kong, they're obviously GENIUSES at it. Mom's test was unnecessary, as there was no chance they'd get the length wrong.

After walking around some more so the women who considered themselves in charge of my clothes could express how impressed they were with how good the shoes looked, Lily held out the second shoe box.

I took it out of her hands with considerably more confidence than I'd had with the previous box. I opened it to reveal a pair of black boots. Not boots in the "work boot" sense, which is what I've seen the most; these were boots that were like dress shoes at the bottom, but not ending at ankle-height. Instead their leather rose up the leg, two-thirds of the way to my knees.

I'd never worn "dress boots" (I'm only guessing at that name) before, and was quite curious what they'd be like. I quickly removed the dress shoes and slipped the first boot on. Pulling up the zip produced a strange sensation, as I've never had my lower leg encased in anything before, but it felt good. The inside of the 'tube' of the boot was padded, so it was a comfortable feeling. The shoe end of the boot felt very good too. While I was sitting down I put the other boot on, then stood up to walk around.

"Well?" asked Mom, not satisfied with my broad smile.

"I need to correct something I said about the previous shoes. I said they were, 'the most comfortable shoes I'd ever had.' I now realize that they're better described as, 'the LEAST UN-comfortable shoes'. They fit so well they didn't produce any discomfort. These, on the other hand, ARE the most COMFORTABLE footwear I've ever worn. Not just 'no discomfort', but they're actually comfortable. Dad, when you come home from a hard day at work and complain that your feet hurt, you should have a pair of boots like these, to put on to make your feet feel better. These are GOOD!"

Mom had to press the toes of the boots. I think it's a genetic compulsion, no doubt caused by a minor gene on the females' shopping-chromosome. I got to parade back and forth, show everyone the padding inside the boots, and generally rave about how good they felt. They didn't look quite as classy as the dress shoes, but I had no doubt which pair I preferred. Girls can be crazy enough to wear shoes that must be horrendously uncomfortable, just because they look good, but that's not the priority I apply to my own footwear.

At one point I said, "I'd much rather walk around wearing these than track shoes. I'm going to start wearing these to school every day."

I was told that shoes shouldn't be worn every day, that, "They'll last far longer if they're worn every second day; much more than twice as long."

I wanted them to last for the rest of my life, so I took that advice to heart, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays it is then."

I praised Lily YET again. She was a SUPERB sex-slave, and I hadn't even had sex with her since she'd achieved that new status.

"I very happy you like. Shoes from very famous China shoe factory. Very, very big. Very good shoes."

"I'll say!"

#1: <Do you think we should suggest Lily gets monthly checkups from her doctor?>

#2: <And that she should get us another pair of these boots, so we can wear alternate pairs every day.>

#3: <There are still several bags to go, and I'm already stunned how good these presents are.>

Unfortunately the rest of the bags contained clothes. They were very nice clothes - I know that, because Julia said they were - but it's hard to get enthusiastic about clothes.

I was, however, particularly appreciative that they were generally baggier and much more conservative (i.e., less flamingly homosexual) than the clothes Julia normally gets me to wear.

I wasn't appreciative of having to model them in front of everyone, especially the part where I had to get changed from one to another. Changing shoes I had no trouble with; changing pants was a different matter. My opinion was overruled, naturally. I'd have thought my opinion should be the most important, since I was the one repeatedly getting almost-naked, but apparently it doesn't work that way.

All the women sincerely complimented Lily on each article. An aspect of Julia's praise had me puzzled, so I asked her, "Julia, most of these are more conservative and baggier than the clothes you politely request that I wear these days, so I'm wondering when I'm going to get a chance to wear them?"

My fashion advisor/boss answered, "Starting from next Monday. It's time we bridged you across to a new look."

"I am NOT complaining, but my last 'look' only started three weeks ago. I'm going to need a LOT more money if you're going to change my look every three weeks."

"We'll see." Which was a VERY ominous statement. "We'll only be partially changing your look. You need to start wearing higher quality clothes to go with your wealth. Your money is a lot sexier and more important than your body, so we'll emphasize that, reducing your wearing sexy clothes to once or twice per week so the girls won't forget. Most of the clothes Lily bought are clearly high quality, so they'll be very suitable for school."

Lily asked, "Mark has money?"

Julia answered, "Yeah. That's secret for now, Lily, so please keep it to yourself until I tell you it's okay to talk about it. Okay?"

"How much money?"

"Ahh, quite a lot Lily. But you can't tell anyone."

"Tell Father and Mother?"

"Not until I tell you it's okay. Maybe next week, but wait until I tell you."

"Okay. How Mark get money?"

"When he was away last week."

"Four days?"

Julia nodded.

"How much money?"

"A few million dollars Lily. I'll tell you more about..."

"MILLION! Mark RICH?"

"Yes, he's very rich. Don't forget it's a secret though."

Lily held up four fingers, asking, "Mark rich FOUR days? Not Father, Mother?", pointing to my parents.

Julia reiterated, "It was all Mark's doing. Mark is a VERY special guy."

"IYEE! Mark is..." Lily excitedly spouted Chinese for several seconds. She was a VERY happy, excited and proud looking girl.

[[The translation of what she said, summarized, was: "Mark is a god!" (in the Chinese sense; a human who has developed demigod powers, rather than a divine creation like an angel), and "I KNEW I was right. Father and Mother are going to be SO pleased!"]]

Lily realized she was talking to herself, cut it off, and rushed over to me. She stopped just short, exclaiming, "You VERY special man! Number one special! Thank you, thank you." She dropped to her knees, hugging my thighs, to particularly thank my knees. Lily was quite emotional, but I understood so little about her motivation that I preferred just to let her do her thing. She was certainly happy enough, so nothing needed fixing. I exchanged amused looks with the others, until Lily finished thanking my knees.

She climbed to her feet, saying, "Thank you for I serve you. VERY big honor! I am luckiest girl."

Considering that all I'd done for her was to let her wash my car, invite me to an exceptional meal, and give me some wonderful presents, I thought her thanking me was probably undeserved. "Umm, you're welcome. It's really nothing." Because it REALLY was nothing.

I could see that she wanted to give me a hug, but she felt constrained from doing so. God knows why; with her being my sex-slave I wouldn't have thought a hug was something for her to be reluctant about. She wanted one, so I put my arms around her, and she immediately grabbed hold of me, hanging on tightly and saying "Thank you" to my nipples.

"There, there." As far as I can work out, that means: "I don't have a clue what's going on, but I'll stay here until you calm down."

Eventually Lily calmed down, and we got back to looking at - and unfortunately modeling - the last few of my clothing gifts.

Then Lily started saying "Goodbye," to leave.

Julia, Mom and I all stopped her, all asking the same thing, "How much do we owe you for all these gifts and the phones?"

Lily's answer was very determined, "NO. No pay me. Me serve Mark. Cannot pay; is my honor."

We tried several times, but she was adamant about it. I was amused when Julia said, "The reason I told you Mark was rich was so you knew you didn't have to pay. He can EASILY pay you back. It's nothing to him!"

I had a feeling the total bill was considerably more than "nothing", but I still added my agreement, "Absolutely! I want to pay. I haven't done anything to deserve all these gifts."

"You let me serve!"

Julia tried, "Let Mark pay, Lily. He is rich now, so he..."

"Yes RICH! So not pay."

"Huh?" stumbled Julia. I was surprised Julia was confused, because she should be used to female logic by now. She asked, "Why shouldn't he pay because he's rich?"

"More rich, more special, more not pay. More honor me."

We argued some more, but the only concession we got was that Lily was fine with our paying for Julia's and Carol's phones, but nothing else.

When Julia asked Lily how much for the two phones, Lily spent a couple of seconds computing, then named an amount.

"Each?" asked Julia.

"Together."

"That's very cheap. Are you sure that's right?"

"Sure. Hong Kong everything more cheap."

"I'll give you the money at school tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. I go now."

Lily gave me another big hug, and told my nipples that they were, "Number one special man" again.

Julia reminded her to keep my being rich a secret from anyone, including her parents, until after next weekend.

Lily agreed then she left. [[The very first thing Lily did when she got home was to tell her parents that I'd earned several million dollars in four days last week, followed by a proud, but respectful, "I told you so!"]]

As we walked back inside, we all agreed that Lily was either a very strange girl, or she was a normal girl and Chinese were very strange people; we couldn't tell which.

We went back to the living room to pick up all my stuff and put it away, or so I thought. Carol picked up a pair of pants and offered it to me, saying, "Try these on, Mark."

"I already have. They fit fine."

"Yes, I know. I want to see how they go with the shirt you're wearing."

"Haha. You're just trying to get me to take my pants off."

"That thought MAY have crossed my mind, but I do want to see what the combination looks like."

"Yeah," agreed Julia. "Try them on."

"Can't I just hold them in front?"

"Don't be silly. Come on, we haven't got all night."

We did, unfortunately, have nearly thirty minutes of getting Mark to try on combination after combination, helped considerably by Julia and Carol making repeated trips to my bedroom to bring back pants or shirts they thought might go particularly well with something that was already in the living room. Pretty much all the clothes in my bedroom eventually ended up in the living room. Both moms participated in my psychological abuse; Dad disappearing remarkably quickly in my half-hour of need.

The females had a grand time. Even Donna enjoyed teasing me, she sneaked out to my bedroom to obtain a pair of my underwear (out of my UNDERWEAR drawer!), then returned to the living room, held them out and innocently suggested, "Change into these, Mark."

When they weren't commenting on clothes, because I was in the middle of changing outfits, they talked about their mansion-shopping, and a whole bunch of other uninteresting topics. I was REALLY interested in getting into a mansion, but they didn't talk about anything that caught my attention. They kept going on about the type of faucets one of the bathrooms had, or how they couldn't possibly manage with both families and only a four-burner stove, or "Those drapes have to go! What were they thinking?", etc., etc., etc. I tuned out as much as possible, other than following their instructions: "Try this on", "Give us a twirl". Groan.