Mellow Yellow

Author’s note: I dedicate this story to Faye-Lynne, the Asian woman who inspired the character of Tina Yin.

Part 1: The Diagnosis

Bill Gates was embarrassed to admit that he had a little “problem”. The “problem” was persistent. Indeed, Bill Gates had the “problem” all his life. He was especially embarrassed to have to confess the “problem” to this young, good-looking female Chinese psychiatrist. Here he was, a middle-aged captain of American industry trying to explain why he had come to the other side of the world for a “problem” he wouldn’t admit to a friend, never mind a foreign woman.

The best urologists in Seattle hadn’t found anything organically wrong with Bill Gates. Finally, Melinda Gates, in her frustration, suggested that Bill visit the Hong Kong Institute of Sexual Therapy. She read that the clinic employed very radical methods to cure penile dysfunction. Despite its reputation for controversy and leading-edge sex therapy techniques, the Institute had achieved a remarkable record of success.

So Bill Gates applied and was accepted as a patient at the Institute. He was so humiliated, having to ask for help instead of ordering one of his flunkies to just get it done. Bill Gates consoled himself that the shrink who ran this clinic wasn’t the least bit arrogant or confrontational. In fact, she was quite pleasant in manner and not bad-looking at all. Did she ever practice sex therapy herself or had she immersed herself completely in administration? Bill Gates was speculating on what the shrink might be like in the sack when he noticed on her desk a family portrait of the doctor with a handsome white guy and a Eurasian toddler. How old was she anyway, married with kids? Well, Bill Gates never could tell the age of orientals.

Dr. Susan Wu-Burnhamthorpe looked over her newest patient. Quite frankly, she had never before treated such an ugly man in her clinic. That bad haircut made him even uglier. Was his hair stylist blind? And how old was this bugger anyway? He acted and looked like a wizened old mandarin but the urologist, Dr. Wang, had scrawled in his notes that Bill Gates was 47. Susan shook her head. She never could tell the age of Caucasians. Her therapists would likely demand double time to treat this poor specimen of the white race. Susan made a mental note to raise her fees accordingly.

Susan speculated on whether his sexual problems were caused by his repulsive visage, with resultant lack of self-esteem. Maybe it was old age? No, a man couldn’t be finished before 50. Well, only a few sessions of psychotherapy could pinpoint why this pitiful creature couldn’t get it up. Bill Gates avoided eye contact, Susan noticed. Well, even the ugly get embarrassed. Susan spoke up first.

“Welcome to the Hong Kong Institute of Sexual Therapy. Normally, patients don’t come to us willingly. Why don’t you tell me what is the problem and how it all began?”

“Ummm, well, it’s like this, uh, Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe. Whenever I try and merge my files with my wife, my, uh, hard drive is just a floppy. It doesn’t even boot up. I mean, I’m really not familiar with how to execute the program, so I…..”

“Please, please, Mr. Gates. Don’t couch your problems in jargon. Come right out with it. Admit that you can’t get the old willie up any more. Not enough lead in the pencil, it would seem. Don’t be embarrassed by the problem. It happens to most middle-aged men at one time or another. Fortunately, my team of trained Asian women have a successful record at helping men like you.”

Bill Gates looked down at the floor as he shuffled his feet back and forth. “It’s not a one-time problem or a case of not being able to get it up any more, Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe. The fact is that I, ummh, well, it’s never been up because I really don’t know what to do with it. I’ve been so busy developing software and growing my business that I’ve never studied how to make my dick grow. If it’s not the anti-trust lawyers making me testify in Washington, it’s another virus attacking our server software. Then there’s the problems with building my mansion and my investment in Corel is in the toilet…...”

Susan couldn’t believe what she had just heard. How could a man be in his 40’s and never experience the pleasures of sex? Susan suppressed a girlish giggle and decided to take up the challenge posed by Bill Gates.

“Mr. Gates, this is an unusual problem. I’m quite uncertain at the moment how to proceed. I will accept you as a patient at the Institute. To ensure your anonymity, my staff and I will refer to you as Patient 8086 from now on. I’ll assign my best therapists to make your willie tumescent and to instruct you in the art of love. In no time, we’ll have you performing like a bunny rabbit. Now, Patient 8086, can we discuss some business? The Institute is developing new sex therapy software that I believe your corporation and my Institute should collaborate on. I have tentatively labeled this project the InterFuck.…..”

Part 2: The Staff Meeting

Constantina Yin entered the boardroom of the Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy. Tina Yin was a stark contrast to the slim, fashionable therapists on the Institute’s staff. To be charitable, she was a trifle dumpy and not at all fashionably dressed. Her job at these staff meetings was to provide the weekly statistical reports. Tina preferred to be first on the agenda. Her custom was to deliver her administrative report and then excuse herself before the therapists gave their reports on their new frontiers in sex therapy.

Tina was ashamed of her appearance. She was overweight almost from birth. Her mother was so proud of her chubby baby that she resolved to keep young Tina that way as a monument to her skills as a mother and a cook. Tina went through high school as the girl that boys’ mothers urged them to date because she “had such a lovely personality.” Yes, Tina did have a nice personality but the boys in her school weren’t into dating fat nerds.

The other reason Tina Yin absented herself from the therapists’ portion of the meetings was an overactive imagination supplemented by a strong libido. On those occasions when she couldn’t leave, the therapists’ graphic description of their imaginative cures left Tina so wet between her legs that she stayed in her chair until all the other staff members had left. She was embarrassed that someone would notice the wet stain on her dress. Only when Tina was sure that the coast was clear, she would gather up her reports and go directly to the loo to masturbate.

Today, Tina provided her administrative report in her cultured and cultivated English. Dr. Wu now employed women from all over Asia in her work and English was the only language they had in common. Tina reported on the clinic’s finances noting the letters from the Hong Kong and Beijing governments commending the Institute on its earnings of foreign exchange. Then she reminded the therapists that it was time for the annual inventory. All staff were advised to ensure that all lingerie and penis pumps had their property inventory tag.

Finally, Tina delivered the monthly statistics for the Institute. The Institute had admitted 231 patients and had discharged 230 randy men to their waiting wives and girlfriends. 205 patients had been cured within days, 25 required a full week of treatment and, unfortunately, Patient 8086 remained with the Institute at month end. Dr. Wu exploded with anger.

“What? None of you has effected a cure on Patient 8086? What do I pay you for? Don’t you realize how important Patient 8086 is to the future of this Institute? Cured, this man has the ability, with the practical skills embedded in the Asian woman, to launch the InterFuck, electronically taking the unique abilities of Asian women to the waiting willies of the world. Uncured, my work is in ruins, the Institute will surely close and China will lose a leading earner of foreign exchange. Now do you realize what your collective failure means?”

Stung by the criticism, the therapists all began to speak all at once. Bunko Fukuyama, the geisha, said “I make Japanese tea ceremony for 8086. He say ‘Take that pissy crap outa’ here and bring me a decent cup of coffee.’ He no give me chance to take off kimona. What can humble me do with man who no like Japanese pussy or green tea?”

The next to speak was Leslie Butterfly, the Peking Opera diva. “I started to sing ‘Farewell my Concubine’ for him but he just threw a ‘Windows for Dummies’ book at me. Then Patient 8086 told me to take my screechy voice to another room and put a sock in it. I was so insulted I felt like having a hissy fit. I really don’t care if he likes men or not.”

Kundali, the Kama Sutra consultant said: “I came to Patient 8086 dressed in my best silk sari. I bowed completely submissively: ‘It is my great honour to be able to pleasure you, Sahib. Which one of the 117 positions do you choose?’ The Sahib said I should position myself with my head up my arse. What do you suppose that an accomplished mistress of the Kama Sutra should do with instructions such as that, may I ask?”

The Senior Therapist, Faye Tang said: “I’ve done a lot of men in my life and some of them made camels look truly beautiful. But 8086 was so ugly that I had to run and toss my cookies. Please Sui-Beng, I beg of you, don’t make me go in there again.”

Kim Soon, the Korean tai-kwon do dominatrix said: “He lie on back, play with him palm pilot. No look at me in best leathers. So I try blowjob. He say bad word, scream that my kimchee lunch burn him willie.”

And so it went around the boardroom table. Keiko, Meiko and Seiko, the Japanese threesome, and Imelda, the Filipina shoe fetishist, all complained about how their refined techniques were apparently lost on Patient 8086. Cynthia-Dawn Yang, the westernized Chinese bimbo, neatly summarized the problem: “Patient 8086 is such a total nerd that he doesn’t even KNOW HOW TO DO IT. How can any of us perform therapy on an idiot like that?”

The room became silent at this piece of wisdom. Susan Wu pondered for a minute. Then she said to no one in particular, “Yes, Yang Kunyan has placed her finger precisely on the problem and found the solution at the same time. Now, if we could only find a woman who is as incorrigible and totally a nerd as Patient 8086 but does know how to do it, then we would have a chance of resurrecting his libido.” Susan’s words trailed off into silence. Everyone in the meeting turned and stared at Tina Yin. The therapists’ collective had found the perfect female counterpart to Patient 8086.

Part 3: Tina Yin Rubs Bill Gates the Right Way

With great difficulty, Tina Yin found a therapist’s uniform in her size. Even a hefty woman like Peng Kunchen had lost weight as a result of the heavy caseload at the Institute. There wasn’t a single “full figured” thong in the Institute’s inventory. Silently, Tina cursed her economy measures and vowed to buy the “whale” size lingerie with her next Victoria’s Secret order. Tina decided to forego a bra as well. In the mirror, she saw that her boobs were quite big enough to outline her nipples through the uniform’s cloth.

Tina pulled the hem down and checked that her shaved clam wasn’t exposed to view. Tina had been a shaver for two years on Tang Fang’s advice. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a chance to see if it really “reminded men of their little sisters” in Fang’s words. She hoped that the hem of the uniform wouldn’t ride up over her arse, exposing her bare goodies before the appropriate moment.

Tina cursed herself for bragging about her sexual exploits to the other therapists. She had been provoked into fibbing in order to match the therapists’ reports about their sexual exploits with their patients. In reality, she had only one lover in her life. Tina achieved complete satisfaction on that first and only sexual encounter. The next morning, she looked forward to a fulfilling sex life but, when she rolled over to embrace her lover, her bed was empty. Her lone lover never even called back to reassure Tina that he still respected her.

Instead of the passion-filled evenings that Tina related over lunch to the other staff, the truth was that she spent her evenings taking courses in massage and aromatherapy. The courses had a purpose besides filling her barren, loveless hours. If she ever lost her job or became tired of office work, Tina wanted to open her own business offering massage and alternate medicine. Tina was building an “insurance policy.”

The therapists had requested Tina Yin to take care of the Institute’s most difficult patient on the false premise that she knew as much about sex as anyone in Dr. Wu’s employ. Tina consulted her well-thumbed copy of “Procedures and Practices Manual of the Hong Kong Institute of Sex Therapy.” Tina Yin knew every chapter almost by heart. Authored by Dr. Wu-Burnhamthorpe and extensively annotated and edited by Senior Therapist Tang Fang, the Manual described every possible problem a sex therapist might encounter and every possible position to counter the problem. The Manual provided Tina many hours of finger pleasure in the loo whilst her computer was downloading new software for the office. Now, it would guide her through the therapy procedure and compensate for her lack of experience.

Dr. Wu’s diagnosis sheet noted that Patient 8086 was a stressed-out businessman from America. Tina located her massage table and her case of essential oils in the locker room. Tina used the combination of massage and aromatherapy to great effect when soothing the aches and pains of therapists injured from over-exuberant sex. She never suspected that she would make use of her “insurance policy” to the benefit of one of Dr. Wu’s patients. Constantina Yin would succeed where the others had failed, using her singular skills at massage, aromatherapy plus Dr. Wu’s expert guidance, as set out in the Manual.

Patient 8086 was sitting naked in the lotus position on the bed in Room 1716. His ankles effectively concealed his willie, as if by design. By now, Tina Yin had gotten used to the fact that foreigners didn’t squat in the manner Chinese people did. Patient 8086 studiously ignored Tina, as he apparently ignored all the other therapists. Tina set up her massage table and covered it with a cloth. Patient 8086 was hunched over a notebook computer, furiously typing. Suddenly, his face turned red and he pounded his fists on the bed. “Goddamn Windows XP! It’s gone catatonic again on me.”

This display of temper didn’t faze Tina Yin in the least. With six years in the employ of Dr. Wu, she was quite used to seeing all kinds of strange behaviour. Since Dr. Wu opened the Institute, Tina had come to accept Americans’ boorish and impolite manners. The best way to get the attention of such a foreigner was to shake their confidence and strip away their sense of self-superiority. One look at the notebook screen and Tina knew exactly what was Patient 8086’s problem.

“Excuse me, Patient 8086. It appears as if you are using Windows XP as your operating system. Our Chinese hackers have discovered that this product has at least three back doors, through which they can hijack your computer. That’s why your computer crashes so often. Once one of our diligent hackers discovers you are on line, he or she, as the case may be, quickly takes complete control of all your CPU resources. I hope you haven’t been trying to access your bank account.”

Tina knelt on the bed beside Patient 8086. Kneeling was awkward for her but she didn’t want to appear too alien for her first patient. Tina confirmed her diagnosis and entered a few simple commands that closed all the XP back doors. Patient 8086’s mouth dropped as he realized that the woman kneeling at his side had the answer to problems that had baffled his company’s best programmers for years. He turned and, for the first time actually looked directly at one of the Institute’s therapists.

“You’re a …. my God, you’re a Chinese woman but you’re the biggest nerd I’ve ever met. You’re a nerd, just like me and 97% of my employees! Can you fix the problem that Excel has with floating point arithmetic? Can you get rid of that stupid grinning paperclip in MS Office? And there are all those unresolved security issues with earlier versions of Outlook. By the way, who are you?”

Tina pressed her advantage whilst she had his attention. “Please, Patient 8086, one question at a time. My name is Su-Ning but most English speakers call me Constantina or Tina for short. Yes, I can fix all the problems you mention. But that’s not the problem you came to the Institute to fix.” Tina closed the notebook and motioned towards her massage table. “Now, I will work on this other little problem before we go back to the computer. Let me try an oriental technique, which has always helped the harried businessman relax. Up on the table, Patient 8086!”

Patient 8086 meekly obeyed his fellow nerd. It was obvious to him that this woman had superior computing knowledge. Perhaps she also possessed superior sexual powers as well. He climbed on the table, lay flat on his stomach and tried to ignore the cold metal beneath the cloth. Curiously, he watched his therapist blend the essential oils and carriers. Tina mixed borage and kuikui with an unrefined sunflower base for Patient 8086’s poor skin condition. Finally, she added a small amount of ylang ylang and mei chang for their aphrodisiac properties.

Tina began a full body massage on Patient 8086. As she rubbed his lower back with firm strokes and the essential oils on her hands, Patient 8086 visibly relaxed and his breathing became slower. Tina worked her way up his back, applying plenty of thumb friction on the shoulder blades and the and upper back. She straightened out her patient’s head, trying to ignore his appallingly bad haircut, and applied the same thumb pressure to the back of his neck. By now, Patient 8086’s eyes were tightly shut behind the thick glasses. He was visibly relaxed and contented under Tina’s soft hands. Tina turned her attention to the back of his legs, trying not to catch in her nails the multitude of short hairs on his legs.

With the back work done, she asked Patient 8086 to turn over. As she began to massage his feet, she remembered an illustration in a reflexology textbook. The picture of the foot located an erogenous zone in the arch area. Unwittingly, she applied extra thumb pressure to Patient 8086’s arch as she massaged his feet. As she worked her way up the front of Patient 8086’s leg, Tina was so absorbed in delivering a superior massage that she didn’t notice the effect that her unintended stimulation had on Patient 8086’s willie. Then her hand accidentally brushed his member while massaging his upper thigh.

Tina looked up and was shocked at the response of Patient 8086’s willie. What God had denied Bill Gates in looks, He had abundantly gifted between his legs. Bill Gates’ willie was thick and it was large. It stood erect, a pinkish shaft with a purple, shiny bulbous tip. A drop of liquid already appeared on the tip of his willie. Tina’s first sight of white willie both fascinated and frightened her. A shiver, unrelated to the room temperature, coursed through Tina’s body. She had very limited experience with willies and never with such a big one. Tina gained some comfort by recalling that the therapists at the Institute had often confided that they liked big willies the best.

Tina felt a trickle of liquid emanate from her bare pussy that flowed down the inside of her thick thighs. Patient 8086’s willie was hers to take. In fact, it was her duty to the Institute and as a citizen of the New China to take this willie for her own. She excitedly completed the massage regimen, the patient’s hands and finally the scalp. Tina removed the heavy glasses from Patient 8086’s bulbous nose and massaged him lightly but firmly on the scalp and forehead. She gazed at his now relaxed face and thought, “He’s not as ugly as the therapists said. In fact, I think he’s sort of cute.” Tina gave Bill Gates a light kiss on the forehead. His eyes opened and now it was his turn to be startled at his willie.