It's a long story so I would urge you to start at Chapter 1.
Please provide feedback and vote, it makes me happy.
*****
Mei Chun was still recovering from the assault on her rectum. Philip's two thick fingers jamming inside of her produced an orgasm of unique sensation and ferocity but it also hurt a hell of a lot.
Oddly, she felt a quiet gratitude for the soreness in her ass. Something like a sense of obligation drifted in the back of her mind. The last few days had brought to the surface a notion that she long avoided. It was as though Philip had held her head, pried open her eyes and forced her to look in a magic mirror which revealed her true self. In the mirror she saw what a truly awful and sick person she was. She was now convinced that at least some of what he was doing to her was for her own good.
He made it clear that she would have to pay for her sins as Jenny and now she knew what form that payment would take. She would serve him but she would also suffer. In return he would remake her. 'Fair enough,' she thought, 'I can do this.'
The bath that followed was a repeat of yesterday's. A gentle caressing with oil, then shampoo with neck massage and a tender cleaning of her face. He was so unbelievably tender and skillful. He was 'masterful'.
As she mellowed into blissful relaxation, echoing sounds of water pouring through her hair and onto the floor, she contemplated him with incredulity. Who was this man? How is it she had never met his kind before? What makes a man do things so cruel and yet be so sweet and tender?
When he concluded she insisted that he get in the tub and let her return the favor. This, however, would require him to become naked. He pondered and she undressed him. She stood before him, running her palms flat against his chest, the ribbed blue fabric of his light two button pull-over felt great against her hands. He was about three or four inches taller than her. He wasn't her tallest, nor her shortest. Not the most or least handsome. He did meet her minimums as far as muscle, with some margin, by no means a body builder, she'd had one of those, and not a scarecrow, of which she'd had none.
His eyes, however, were unique. She looked into them as she pulled the tail of his shirt from his pants. He was looking where a window might have been. Thin hips, she liked those, she loved hip bones. As his shirt came over his head she kissed his collarbone and saw nice definition in his abs and pecs, no flab. A good foundation he could build on. She wouldn't suggest exercise for a while, until the spanking stopped.
He was still pondering, her physical persuasion very effective. Her nakedness, the collar and her lips at his neck helping to tip the balance.
She leaned back, put her hands on his hips, dove into his eyes and kissed him. She put all of her emotion behind it. Jenny had been proud of her ability to melt a man's spine; Mei Chun inherited the skill.
Philip's reservations dissipated with the heat of that kiss.
She unthreaded his belt with her lips still to his, eager to see his penis. Wanting a more intimate view, she crouched the way she learned as a child, which only Asians seemed able to do, feet flat on the floor, ass an inch above the tile.
Rather than unbutton and unzip his jeans right away, she touched the lump inside. She was pleased at what she felt. It was substantial and firm, just like it should be. It was pointing down and to the left, another good sign. A guy pointing up might be the over eager sort, too quick to come. Mostly hard was just right, more room to grow.
"It's nice, Philip," she said, looking up at him, "I like it."
He thought about humiliating her with something like, 'You've seen enough to know,' or something, but he didn't have the heart for it and stayed silent.
She put her head along his pants, feeling him on her cheek through his jeans.
He knew the way this was going and decided to stop. He couldn't lose control now.
"Get up." He didn't bark it but it was clearly an order.
She groaned in disappointment.
"Turn around."
She did.
"Close your eyes and if you open them, more spanking."
He took off his pants.
More groans but perhaps, she thought, he had something in mind. Then she heard him get into the tub.
"Open your eyes and start bathing me."
She opened them but the water was just murky enough from her bath that she could only see a vague form below the water. She took up the washcloth on the tub rim and was determined to out do him in tenderness. But a few minutes into it she became disheartened. No matter how she tried she couldn't put enough of herself into it to get it right. She felt clumsy, unsure and distracted. She soaped here and massaged there but she had no overall plan. No technique. No practice in the art of the concubine. She wondered how he did it.
"I suck at this," she said.
"It's not bad."
"How do you do it?"
"You know the answer."
She grunted.
"Just ...," he tried to help, "what do you love?" he asked.
"Besides myself?"
"Yes."
"Money, cookies, Jimmy Choo shoes."
"What are they? I hear women talk about those like they were the best things on the planet."
"Yeah... well, its a girl thing, isn't it."
"Better than an anal orgasm?"
"Different," she chuckled. "So totally different."
"So pretend I'm paying you a thousand an hour."
"Are you just turning me into your slave for your own benefit?"
"What does it feel like?"
She contorted her face in cute concentration. "It doesn't feel that way."
"Ok... go with your feelings. I could say, 'trust me' but that wouldn't mean anything."
She did trust him, half way, however screwed up that was. Even after the spankings and getting tied and fucked by his friends. She did trust him more than the last time she thought of it.
She tried some more, even doing that face scrub but she botched it, getting the cream in his eye. He was sweet about it, washing his eye out with a stream of cold water from the tap.
No wonder she couldn't do it. She didn't love him. But before giving up entirely she got the chair and sat behind him, his head resting on a folded towel on the rim. She began to rub his scalp as he had done and closed her eyes. She blocked out everything she could and focused on her feelings. She fantasized on love, thinking about what she should feel. Pretending she was in love with him, if only to aid in what she was doing.
It seemed to be working a bit, giving her a slower pace, a more gentle touch. When he moaned it thrilled her.
"I think I'm getting it, Philip."
"That feels good," he said. He was tight as a guitar string. Domination takes a lot out of a guy.
She daydreamed about becoming domestic. About fixing dinner and folding his clothes at the laundromat. She infused these images with meaning, their purpose to please him. That helped a bit more and she began to massage his ears between her fingers. As she dreamed, she felt the caress of his praise like his hands on her body.
"Tell me about me, please," she said.
Part of the process was to reward just this kind of behavior. "You are softhearted and tender, with warm and supple fingers like they are coated in chocolate. You smell better than any woman I've ever known, like laundry and sex."
