("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Emperor Style by Eric Waters (eric_waters4567@hotmail.com) *** A businessman in China finds out what it feels like to be an Emperor. (MFF, prost, asian) *** It was my fourth trans-Pacific flight. Back in the early 80’s I had imagined myself to be a promising martial arts student. I went to Taiwan to study kung fu, and it took three months for me to be so thoroughly humiliated that I limped back to the US with my proverbial tail between my legs. That failed experiment did give me some exposure to Chinese culture, and I did learn a bit of Mandarin. Twenty years later, I exaggerated my language skills to swing a business trip to mainland China. The boss’ ex- wife was still with the company and her ex made sure that she spent a lot of time on the road. Leslie was a nice-looking woman, but she had a bad attitude about travel and frankly made a pretty lousy representative for the company. She knew no foreign languages and was proud of that fact. She dissed the locals constantly and seemed oblivious to the fact that they could usually understand English. I took two trips to visit our manufacturing facilities in China with little-miss-ugly-American. By the second trip the reps were ignoring her and talking to me, since she was rude and really didn’t give a damn about her job. We let her go on a shopping binge and finished the actual work. By the late 90’s, the boss had finally dumped the bitch completely and I was able to take over her job. About every six months I’d endure a flight to the other side of the world and keep our production affiliates in line. While I couldn’t operate business transactions without a translator, I learned how to deal with the egos, corruption and incompetence of our business partners. In 1999 I had my first "solo" business trip. I needed to delay the shipment of several cargo containers of electronics because we’d wound up with too much inventory. Sure, that was the golden era of the tech boom, but a lot of the companies that were raking in the cash didn’t actually do anything, and hence they didn’t create as much demand for hardware as we’d anticipated. At the time it seemed like no big deal, but in hindsight... At any rate, I flew into Shanghai and was met at the airport by the head of the factory and by a hired translator. The head of the factory, Mr. Wen, was a balding, middle-aged man in a suit who had a chronic cough because of a respiratory infection. The air quality around Shanghai was nasty and lots of people smoked; lung ailments were especially common. The translator was a college student named Mei Hua ("Rose"). She was bright and spoke English with a delightful Chinese-British accent. Physically, she was plain and wore her hair in that ghastly institutional Maoist style that kids in early grades were required to wear. I got along well with Rose right away, and I chatted with Mr. Wen as best I could. A trans-Pacific flight will really mess with your biological clock, and the flight over was packed solid, so I didn’t sleep much. I was picked up at 8:00 AM, and I started sucking down sodas to try to get enough caffeine in me to make it through the day ahead. When we got to the factory, I noticed that I was being treated with greater deference that usual, which meant that the mood was positively cloying. After an hour of niceties, I started to figure out what was going on. In dribs and drabs, it was explained to me that Mr. Wen’s company had purchased an old factory from the Communist Party, and within a week a low-grade earthquake had reduced it to rubble. The factory wasn’t going to be able to meet our production schedule, or rather, our old production schedule. I was tempted to explain right away that it wouldn’t be a problem, but I remained silent and learned, through Rose, that more bad news was coming. Evidently Mr. Wen had put himself in a bad financial situation, and he was going to need my promise that we weren’t going to run to his competitors in order to get a loan to rebuild the new property. Once the picture became clear, I started to feel pretty good despite my fatigue. I could do them a huge favor and make my boss happy at the same time. I had my best poker face on, and said that I’d have to call the company that evening (local time) to see if I could help them. By the early afternoon, I left the factory’s office with Rose in tow and headed to my hotel room. It was supposed to be a four-star hotel, but it was basically just nice. Rose had to leave me in the lobby, as the law was very strict about men and women going to a hotel room together unless (and I’m not kidding) they can produce a marriage license. She took me to one side and asked if I needed anything at all. I knew that I could ask for damned near anything and Mr. Wen would pay for it to butter me up, but I try not to mix business with pleasure; well, at least not when I’m in the middle of negotiations. I took a nap, called my boss in the middle of my night, and told him that I thought I could get us our delay without much trouble. After that, I got caught up on my sleep. I awoke early and had a western-style breakfast. I was looking pretty sharp and feeling pretty good by the time that I was scheduled to meet Rose in the lobby. Mr. Wen was supposed to be there too, but he had a doctor’s appointment. Rose asked me about American culture, and I politely corrected the inevitable misconceptions that folks have in other countries because they watch "Dallas" and "Baywatch" and think that’s how Americans really live. When I made it to the factory, Mr. Wen’s assistant, Mr. Chen, explained that I would need to meet with local financial representatives to secure the loan that would allow the factory to expand its capacity. Ah, capitalism. He seemed nervous, and I assumed at first that he was just uncomfortable because his boss was at the doctor’s. Rose and Chen and I took a company car into Shanghai. Traffic was horrible, but that was a good thing in a country that had recently only had bicycle congestion. The building we traveled to wasn’t a bank, but rather a new and very ugly office building. On a hunch, I reached into by briefcase and extracted a tiny voice recorder. I clicked it on and tucked it into my jacket pocket. The elevator lurched to the twelfth floor and we exited. There were two hefty goons standing next to the elevator, and I knew we weren’t meeting with conventional financiers. I didn’t feel too worried, but it seemed irregular. The office door wasn’t marked. We knocked and were buzzed in. We were greeted by a cloud of cigarette smoke and a tarty-looking woman. She took us to a room where three men were seated at a table. They didn’t rise when we entered, but instead gestured for us to take some unoccupied seats. Piles of paperwork were scatted around the room. The woman returned with a tray of tea. Chen started talking rapidly with the men, and Rose gave me the general gist of the conversation. They seemed to be some cross between venture capitalists and organized looked small and timid, and they seemed delighted to make him squirm. The chief financier finally looked at me and said, in tolerable English, "You are Mister Waters, are you not? You work for the XXX Corporation, do you not?" I nodded and was about to say something when the conversation abandoned me. They were speaking very rapidly, and I finally figured that they’d switched to Cantonese. I ignored what was being said, since I don’t speak Cantonese and Rose wasn’t trying to keep up with the negotiations. The thugs were treating Chen like shit, and they were obviously producing worse and worse terms for the loan. I decided to make my move, largely because I was getting bored and I was tired of watching them harass Chen. I cleared my throat and stated a few words of well-prepared Mandarin. "No good. Five percent." The three men looked at me like I’d farted. They evidently couldn’t decide whether to laugh or threaten to kill me. Chen and Rose looked baffled. I pulled out my tape recorder, which was still running, and shut it off. This is a trick I learned from a business associate who worked in India. I had no idea if this was going to work or not. I said to Rose, "Tell them that there’s a police motorcycle out front." The local cops rode two to a motorcycle, which looked about as lame as anything you can imagine. "They know exactly where I am." Actually, that was all a bluff, but I probably was being trailed by the government. Rose dutifully translated what I was saying, and it managed to provoke some strong responses. "I think that there’s a simple solution. A five percent loan for one year. My employers will have enough work to make the new production facility pay off in twelve months." To this day I have no idea what I’d caught on my tape recorder, but the deal was sealed quickly and we left the building as soon as we could. Chen looked like he was going to vomit in the elevator. We make it back to the company car and noticed several police motorcycles going our way as we headed back to the factory. Mr. Wen was waiting for us, and Chen explained what had happened in a monologue laced with nervous laughter. Rose tossed in a few observations, but she didn’t bother to translate. Mr. Wen excused himself for a coughing fit. When he returned, he thanked me effusively through Rose. "Mr. Wen says that you have worked a miracle! You have saved the future of his company, and he is entirely in your debt. Your employer will be informed that you are a brilliant negotiator. If I may ask, may we have the tape?" I considered the request for a bit, and then handed the mini-cassette over. "I would suggest making several copies." Wen held it like a precious jewel in his palm. "Yes," he said in English. Then, through Rose, he said, "If there is anything we can do to show you, personally, our thanks, please name it." I figured that I might as well ask for something that I actually wanted. "Girls. Lots of girls," I said in Mandarin. Wen and Chen looked at each other and chuckled. "We will arrange it. How many would you like?" Rose translated for Wen, maintaining her professional demeanor. I held up my fingers. "Liu. Six." Rose continued to translate. "Ah, Emperor Style. Well, you have earned it. However, we can’t send six girls to your hotel room. We will send you to an establishment that can care for you." The three of us ate dinner together, a lavish meal served on a lazy-susan table. There was local beer (not bad after the third glass) and excellent service. After dinner, I was dropped off at a nondescript apartment building. Rose accompanied me to the door. We buzzed the intercom and offered the appropriate password. The door whined and I pushed it open. "Mr. Waters, I hope that you have a good time." I couldn’t detect any note of judgmentalism in her voice. "Mei Hua, I would appreciate it if you stayed to translate. I’m not sure that they’ll have anyone who speaks English." Rose gave me a cryptic look and then ran back to the car. I didn’t know if she was coming back, but a moment later she returned. "Mr. Wen said that it would be a good idea." Again, I couldn’t tell if she was tantalized or horrified. Her expression reminded me of the stereotypes of "inscrutable Asians." We walked up three flights of stairs reached a door marked 411. Rose tapped on the door and it opened. The apartment inside was saturated in the smells of perfume, cigarettes, incense, and jasmine tea. We were greeted by a woman who fit the Central Casting notion of Dragon Lady. She was older and heavily made- up. She smiled an insincere smile. She welcomed us into a small receiving room, one with couches on each wall. "Normally," she said in Mandarin, "we would have other guests here. Mr. Wen has seen to it that you are our only guest tonight. Do I understand that you want to enjoy love Emperor Style?" I nodded. She held out a picture book with reprints of old woodcuts. The book was open to the scene of a man having sex with six women at the same time. I smiled and said, "Exactly." Rose looked at the book as well, and her eyes got big when she saw the illustration. I don’t think that she knew what I had requested until that point. Rose translated for the Dragon Lady, "It is an unusual request, but one which offers a great deal of chi to the man. You will not be disappointed." Dragon Lady clapped her hands and two women entered. We were off to a good start; they were twins. They were roughly in their mid-twenties, and cute though not exceptional beauties. I was informed that I would be cleaned before we started, and I allowed them to lead me to a bathroom. I looked over to Rose and said, "Please stay with me. My communication skills may not be sufficient for the moment." The Twins stripped me naked and I frankly didn’t care if I ever saw my clothes again. The room was tile- lined, and there was a drain in the middle of the floor. I sat in a cheap plastic seat in the middle of the room, and the Twins stripped to their red underwear. They took shampoo and sponges and scrubbed me head to toe. It wasn’t especially naughty, and I didn’t have an erection just yet. Rose stood in the doorway and looked away, but I caught her peeking several times. After I was rinsed off, the Twins picked up some manicure equipment and worked on my fingernails and on my toenails. It didn’t take long, and they dried me off and wrapped me in a towel. They were damp from bathing me, but they didn’t change. I was taken to the largest room in the apartment, one usually set up for parties. Four beds were shoved together in the middle of the room. Four whores were waiting for us, each wearing a traditional red high- collared dress. They varied in ages from twenties to forties, and I didn’t think I was going to learn their names. One nice treat was a girl in the corner playing a traditional stringed instrument. I’d never done anything this exotic before, and as we looked at each other, I didn’t think that this was a common request. Madame Dragon Lady entered the now- crowded room. She slapped her hands together and ordered her girls around. Trays of mixed drinks were produced, and I have something that more or less passed for whiskey on the rocks. I sat down on the bed and the girls sat around me, running their fingers through my thinning hair and placing little kisses on my face which left absurd smears of lipstick. Dragon Lady (who really seemed to be enjoying herself) started orchestrating the action. First of all, I had to get naked again. That was easy enough, since I was just wearing a bathrobe. The middle of the bed was actually the intersection of four beds, so I plopped down towards one corner of the bed. One of the older whores made a big fuss over my penis, praising its size even though I was flaccid. She took it in her hands and began to expertly stroke it. Meanwhile, another girl started playing with my nipples. I usually don’t get into that, but she licked my furry chest and at the same time gentle lips touched my cock. It only took a minute to get to full hardness. I knew I’d have to savor this. I heard Dragon Lady bark instructions and two of the women began stroking my feet. The Twins spread out my arms and rubbed my hands against their now-bare tits. They had small tits but nipples much longer than I’ve ever seen on a Caucasian girl. We kept that pose for about five minutes, and other than feeling slightly ticklish about having my nipples played with, it was heaven. Dragon Lady ordered the next change. The Twins peeled off their panties and returned to my sides. They guided my hands at the same time to their pussies. They had long, straight black hair covering their mounds. They were both nice and wet, and I stroked them with my fingertips. The two women at my feet (who I couldn’t see very clearly) rubbed lotion onto my toes and then sat on my feet, rubbing them again their slits. I was working on pure sensory overload. It suddenly occurred to me that I was now incapacitated. I also realized that I didn’t have a condom on yet. I spoke in Rose’s direction. "Mei Hua, could you ask them to get me a condom?" "Mr. Waters... con-dum?" Oh, shit. That wasn’t a word she recognized. "Uh, do you know what a rubber is?" The Twins simultaneously extended my index fingers and shoved them into their pussies. The girls at my feet were rubbing my big toes into their slits. "Eh, yes, a rubber is on a pencil..." Damned British English. "No, I need something to cover my penis." I hoped she knew that particular word. "Oh, yes, the prostitute will cover your penis." Rose whispered something to the woman licking my cock. The whore grinned at me and nodded. She sat up and straddled my hips. There wasn’t a condom in sight. She rubbed my cock against her slit, and I resigned myself to my fate. She impaled herself on my erection and started riding my cock with extraordinary enthusiasm. I was working five pussies at once, and it was now time for number six. The girl who had been licking my chest took off her dress and stripped to her skin. She was tall for a Chinese girl, and she sat lightly on my soggy chest. She moved her pussy near my mouth, and I kissed it. She seemed clean and she responded strongly to the touch of my tongue. I wasn’t sure what it would all feel like. As it turned out, I couldn’t experience it all at once. I had to think about feeling the cunts that were playing with my toes, or consciously focus my attention on the pussies surrounding my fingers. I tried to ignore the sensations on my cock. The whore riding my cock wasn’t a beauty, but she had trained her pussy muscles and was squeezing me as she rode up and down. I wasn’t going to get to do this again anytime soon, and I needed to last as long as possible. The whore on my tongue was being especially thoughtful. If she’d ground her cunt onto my face, I would have had a hard time breathing. As it was, the delightful experience was rather claustrophobic. I couldn’t see her, but Rose got close to me and said, "The matron has told the music girl to get undressed." I hadn’t noticed that the music had stopped, but I was a tad distracted at the moment. "I believe that you are going to have sex with her as well. The girl is saying that she has not had sex with a man before and she does not wish to be a prostitute." I couldn’t see what was going on (for obvious reasons). The whore on my cock had lifted herself off of me, but she still had a hand on my dick. I said to Rose, "Mei Hua, tell the matron that the girl doesn’t have to have sex with me if she doesn’t want to. Believe me, I’m having a good time." Rose rattled off my instructions to Dragon Lady, and things got quiet for a moment. The tall girl on my face made it known that she wanted me to keep going, so I licked her clitty while the older whore stroked my cock with her hand. The beds shifted several times, and I dearly wished that I could see what was going on. Rose finally said, "They have decided to give you the girl’s arse. She is being prepared. You are to, uh, squirt in her arse. Do you understand?" "Well, yes..." There was a lot of motion on the bed, and the tall girl pushed my head against her crotch as she came. After she settled down, she crawled off of me and got behind me, lifting my head with her belly. I could now see what was happening. The Twins were guiding the young girl’s bottom over my cock. The woman who’d been fucking me was holding my stiff penis in position. The girl was facing away from me, and it was clear that her "arse" had been thoroughly lubed. The Dragon Lady gave the order and the girl was lowered onto me. The head of my cock rested against her asshole, and then it began to slide very slowly into her. She grunted but did not cry out. The sensation was intense; I really couldn’t last very much longer. Once I was about halfway in, she was lifted up and a very gentle pumping motion was initiated. I could tell that the girl wasn’t comfortable, so I focused on the sensations I was experiencing and prepared to come. As I prepared to come, I noticed that my translator was absentmindedly rubbing her crotch through her skirt. That did it. I grunted and came in waves into the young girl’s bottom. We all stopped moving, and after a minute my dick slid out, spent. Two years later I learned that Rose was a government agent. It wasn’t uncommon for the government to get dirt on foreign businessmen in order to hold power over them. I was never blackmailed over my night as an Emperor, perhaps because it was deemed unlikely that it would work. I mean, if they had photos of me in bed with a rented harem, I’d want 8x10 glossies to hand out for Christmas. END * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 37