Whore? The name would not reconcile, and so he grabbed her, startled by his own sudden anger. He took hold of her arms and quickly lifted her up to her feet. She was not a small woman, but he was strong and she was too startled to resist. So he set her on her feet and glared at her. His voice was harsh, his manner cold. And yet his body shook from the heat she generated in his hands where they touched.
"Are you a virgin or a slut?" He spoke in English, making sure that there was no misunderstanding.
She tilted her head, seeming not in the least bit shocked. "Can I not be both?"
He frowned, wondering if he had chosen the wrong words. "How can one be both? Was the Virgin Mary a slut? Was the Whore of Babylon virtuous?"
She didn't answer. Instead, she slowly folded her arms, using the motion to dislodge his hands. She stared at him as she often stared at young William: with a mixture of bafflement and superiority. Finally, she said, "You agreed to teach me, Ken Jin. It won't take my—my maidenhead, will it?"
He shook his head. "Your virginity will remain intact." But her purity would not. Her sweet nature would not. Her very angelic image would fade away like so much dirty smoke. He ought to throw her out, but already his dragon was pushing forward in interest. This was the most virile he'd felt in a very long time. How could he stop?
"Teach me," she insisted.
Pressure built in his chest, an impossible pain that cut off his breath. What did he care what she chose to do with her white-woman virtue? What difference did it make to him if Miss Charlotte Wicks chose to follow her father's example rather than her mother's? Both paths were wrong for her—rampant debauchery or ascetic withering—and yet with no suitor in sight, she had no other choice.
Therefore, he would service her, release some of her stopped-up yin, and not think beyond that. He mentally stopped the pain that clogged his throat and pushed his worries away. It was as simple as slicing off an arm, but he accomplished it even as he took one step backward.
"Very well. Remove your clothing and lie upon the bed." His voice was not quite normal; it was higher in tone, though otherwise calm and detached. She, obviously, did not notice any difference, because she tilted her head and frowned.
"Why should I need to do that? Is it not you who must remove..." She waved at his lower parts.
He straightened, surprised. Most white women preferred him to remain clothed while he harvested their yin. He was, after all, simply a servant performing an unusual task, and servants remained clothed. Yet Charlotte obviously wanted the illusion of intimacy, and so he complied, stripping off his trousers with quick motions.
When he was done, he looked up to find her calmly appraising him. Or perhaps not so calmly, for he saw a brightness in her eyes, a slight sheen of perspiration on her lip, and a kind of movement in her whole body but in such small ways that he could not isolate one from another. In short, she was excited and interested and so very alive the air seem to crackle with her energy.
Even stranger, his dragon responded to the call of her yin. Indeed, her essence was so strong, he thought he could detect her scent in the air: musk and white-people flowers: the earthly and the heavenly combined. How strange, and yet how delightful to his dragon, which surged forward enough to poke its head out from its tunnel. Charlotte reached tentatively forward, her hand steady and her eyes focused.
Ken Jin practically leapt onto his desk to get away. "What are you doing?"
She looked into his face, her eyes wide. "Learning?"
He straightened. "That is not how you learn." He dipped his head slightly in a mocking bow. "Please arrange yourself on the bed."
She looked where he indicated and shrugged. Then she reached down and gathered her skirt, awkwardly climbing onto his small bed. She gasped slightly as she settled onto her knees, probably because her corset had just pushed her breasts up higher than usual. But then she adjusted, shaking her shoulders enough that a tendril of hair slipped down beside her cheek. She blew it away with an irritated huff.
Looking back at him, she arched a single eyebrow and said tartly, "I cannot see how this will serve." Her gaze lowered to his thickening dragon. "You are tall for a Chinese, but really, Ken Jin, no man... Wouldn't it be better if I were on the floor?"
She spoke as she often did to young William, her voice high, her tones smooth and coaxing, and Ken Jin's dragon shrank away in horror. "Remove your clothing," he repeated, louder this time, and in the exact manner he used when her brother disobeyed. "And lie on your back."
She frowned and stared at the bed, then turned to face him. "On my back? But whatever for?"
"Instruction!"
"But that is not what was in the scroll!"
He was already stepping forward, prepared to lift her skirts himself to get her to obey. After all, she was the one who had demanded that he do this. She should not make her own debauchery so difficult! But then her words finally penetrated, and he froze. Which scroll had she read? Which text was she studying? "What exactly did the scroll say?"
Charlotte flushed a deeper scarlet, her color exceedingly beautiful. "Well, I couldn't actually read it."
"The pictures, then. What—"
"A woman on her knees before a man. She was..." She gestured weakly at Ken Jin's dragon.
"Playing the jade flute?" At her look of confusion, he rephrased in English. "She had her mouth on his dragon? His long John."
Miss Charlotte nodded vigorously.
"That is what you wish to learn?" he pressed. "How to steal a man's yang? How to take his vital essence into yourself while he lies gasping and withered in your wake?"
She shifted on his bed, and her breasts bobbled slightly. "I was under the impression that men eagerly sought out ways to..." She frowned as she struggled with the Chinese words. "To surrender their yang."
"Of course some do. They are the unenlightened, the lewd, and the dissolute." He reached for his trousers. "But I am not such a man."
"Then, what were you going to teach me? If not that, then..." Her eyes widened as understanding lit her features. "You were going to do the same to me, weren't you? You were going to take my yang—"
"Yang is a man's power," he snapped, pulling on his clothing. It was difficult, because his dragon did not wish to be hidden. "A woman has yin."
"Yin," she repeated, testing the word. "You were going to take my yin, weren't you?"
"That is what a slut wants, isn't it?" He made his words deliberately harsh.
"To give up her essence to you? And then would I lie gasping and withered in your wake?"
He didn't like the way she was throwing his words back at him. No white person—much less a barbarian woman—had ever demonstrated such cleverness with words. Still, he would not lie to her. "Yes, that is what I thought you wanted."
"Because I am ignorant and lewd."
He shrugged, unable to deny it.
She abruptly pushed off the bed. "You are a pig, Ken Jin, and I would not take your yang if you begged me." She headed for the door, but he was there before her. "Get out of my way," she snapped.
"Give me the scrolls, Miss Charlotte." He matched her threatening tone, but his words were more deliberate.
She was not impressed. She flipped her hair out of her eyes and shifted her weight to step around him. "They are mine until Joanna returns."
He was losing patience with this farce. "They are stolen property, Miss Charlotte. They belong to the Tigress school, and I will see them returned."
She lifted her chin. "I don't believe you. And don't try to find them. I've hidden them where no one will ever guess."
He doubted that, but he did not argue. He could not have her angry with him. His livelihood depended on the Wicks. Plus, he wanted those scrolls. So he switched tactics. No woman could resist a trained Dragon, and his skills were legendary. So he reached out and took hold of the bow tie Charlotte wore. It was a silly female parody of a man's, only serving to emphasize how very feminine she looked, but it was useful to him. He pulled it l
oose with a single flick of his wrist. Another tug and he held it in his hand.
"What are you doing?" she cried.
"You wished to learn. Indeed, you threatened my employment if I didn't teach you."
"I have changed my mind."
He shook his head. "Sluts are not allowed to change their mind. Indeed," he said as he took a firm step forward. "I believe some sluts particularly desire to be threatened. Pushed." His voice dropped. "Forced."
She was shying backward—away from him, toward his bed. "Stop this immediately! This is most unlike you, Ken Jin."
"I didn't know you were a slut before."
She backed up to the bed. "Let me go!"
"Give me the scrolls."
"I'll scream!"
His hand went to her throat, quickly cutting off her breath. The force of his assault knocked her backward onto his bed, carrying him down on top of her. He was a large man with trained hands. He knew how to make a woman's yin flow like a glowing river, and he knew how to stop it cold, which was exactly what he planned now. He pressed his hand into her throat, restricting her breath but not stopping it. Then he leaned down far enough to whisper his threats into her ears.
The motion brought his dragon full and hard against her skirt, and the bonfire that was her cinnabar cave began to torture his thoughts. Her legs slipped open and he thrust fully against her. Thankfully, the barrier of his thin trousers and her even thinner skirt kept him from slipping inside her heated cave. Still, he could feel her wetness, even smell her scent on the air as their bodies ground together. Once, twice, even a third time he pressed forward, his yang strengthening to a hard rod of glorious power.
"This is what happens to sluts," he said as she gasped beneath his onslaught. "This is what those scrolls teach. This is the life that your Joanna has embraced." He did not add that her friend's choice would probably lead to her death. He wanted to frighten Charlotte, not inflict a pain that would come all too soon. "This life is not for you. Now give me those scrolls."
"But," she gasped. "Ken Jin..."
She was struggling. Her face was flushed, her eyes were wide; even her back was rigid with horror. So he thrust one last time, hard, his meaning unmistakable despite the separation of fabric. And then, as a further punishment, he crushed his pelvis against her, round and round in the pleasure circle.
She would not soon forget his meaning or this experience. Her reaction was coming; he could feel it. Her body was rigid beneath him. Charlotte had great pride, but she would give in. It was her female nature to yield, especially when a man showed his superior strength. This was inevitable, and Ken Jin was man enough to relish the moment.
Then she wrapped her legs around him, arched her back in her own sudden thrust, and exploded in a yin rush that made her scream a joyous whoop of victory.
July 16, 1881
To Wen Qui Xiu:
I thank you for your warning. The demon Ken Jin did indeed appear on my doorstep. As you urged, I cast him off. However, as he departed, my heart was most heavy. He did not seem at all demonlike, but quite a normal, resourceful boy. Is it possible that the demon who possessed your son has fled for a better victim? Would you like me to watch this boy? If nothing else, I could learn more about his demonic ways. And if the demon has left, would you not wish the return of your son?
In hope.
Tigress Tan Shi Po
PS—I understand your husband is an acupuncturist. How fortunate for you! I wish my husband had such talent. Alas, we have spent our time in the study of plants. Though my skills are feeble, I do have a recipe to release the fog that clouds many elderly women's minds. Could you pass this on to your mother-in-law? It may help restore peace in your home. And please have her write me to tell if it is effective.
* * *
To honored Grandmother Wen Ai Men, Tigress sister,
I recently began using this recipe. The patient stays in my home so I can watch for any ailment or problems. So far, the tea has been most effective.
Sincerely,
Tigress Tan Shi Po
(Attached, a recipe labeled: To Ease Your Mind. In truth, it is a common potion known to all tigresses for the strengthening growth of young dragons.)
To treat Insomnia: Before retiring, take a leisurely walk, self-massage the body all over, and then massage the yung chuan acupoint, which is in the middle of the sole of the foot.
Tong Sing, the Chinese Book of Wisdom,
Dr. Charles Windridge
Chapter 4
Charlotte felt her legs go slack as the last of the ripples shivered through her. The sensation dissipated quickly, and if it weren't for Ken Jin's weight upon her, she would already be feeling chill. But he was here, and she found his presence a wonderful addition to the experience. "Now I know why Sophie says it's better with another person," she murmured as much to herself as to him.
"Your yin peaked!" he said, obviously stunned. "But I wasn't trying to... Few Tigresses even..." He swallowed. "How is this possible? How can you have such responsive yin?"
She blinked, trying to understand his words. She couldn't, of course, but she was feeling so lovely that she didn't really care. "Thank you, Ken Jin. But that wasn't what you were supposed to teach me, you know."
He reared back, then scrambled off her. Once on his feet, he clearly had no idea what to do except gape. "You are supposed to be ignorant!" he accused.
She pushed onto an elbow and frowned. "Is something the matter? This is what you expected to do this afternoon, isn't it? This is what you thought my 'lesson' would entail."
He didn't answer. His gaze leapt from her face to her belly and then back again. His mouth was open; then it shut; then it fell open again. So Charlotte sat fully upright. She fussed with her clothing, not because it needed straightening, but because she needed something to do with her hands.
"That was delightful, Ken Jin, truly. But..." She glanced up at his blanched face, then quickly down at her skirt. "It wasn't really what I came here to learn. As I was trying to say before, I want to understand about men's bodies. I already know all about mine."
"You do?" he squeaked. Then he took a breath and spoke in a steadier tone. "You understand what just happened?"
Charlotte sighed. "Do you truly believe that women in this city are so ignorant? That we know nothing of these things? I'm twenty-five years old!" She set her feet daintily upon the floor. "Think, Ken Jin. My father disappears for hours on end while my mother preaches ceaselessly about the horrors of physical pleasure. Yes, I know there are girls who know nothing of the body's pleasures, but my parents piqued my curiosity when I was still playing with dolls."
"Your mother preaches against such things!"
"My mother said that fun such as this was the devil's trap." She rolled her eyes. "All I heard was fun."
"But how—"
"My friend Stacy has a machine. One to prevent migraines."
He stared, obviously not understanding.
She shook her head, unwilling to give up her friend's secrets. "She taught me."
He took a step forward, anger contorting his usually placid features. "What did she teach you?"
Charlotte stared at him, annoyance beginning to sour her mood. "Why are you angry?"
He blinked and abruptly stiffened his shoulders. "I am not angry!"
Except, of course, he obviously was. Charlotte sighed. Men pursued their pleasures with single-minded abandon, and yet it never occurred to them that women could discover their own ways to enjoy life. How disappointing to find out that Ken Jin was just like other men.
Charlotte abruptly pushed to her feet, her tone prim and authoritative. "Ken Jin, my actions are none of your affair."
He stopped abruptly. So did she. And there they stood, on opposite sides, servant and master, English and Chinese. Except...
"You wish to learn more," he said, his voice low and eerily calm. "I wish for a return of the sacred scrolls."
She blinked. "They're sacred?"
He
nodded, but the movement was slow, as if he had not intended to reveal so much. Then he abruptly sat down, then gestured to the open space beside him on the bed. "Please, Miss Charlotte, will you sit and listen?"
His manner was so different than from a moment before, she needed to adjust. Then they'd struggled across a great divide; now he seemed to want to be her friend. Or, if not her friend, her equal. The concept was so disorienting that she sat down merely because she could no longer stand. Just what was this Chinaman about?
"Miss Charlotte," he began, "the scrolls you found describe a course of study, a path to Heaven in a most unusual way."
She felt her face and chest flush with embarrassment. "Only the Chinese would make sex a course of study." When he looked at her in confusion, she elaborated: "We English do not write such things down. We simply..." How to express her father's lecheries?
"You simply rut," he supplied. She opened her mouth to object to the crude term, but he held up his hand to stop her. "You believe you understand your father's activities?"
She looked away. "We English do not talk of those things either."
"But you know of them."
She nodded. Yes, of course she knew. Shanghai's gossip-mongers made sure of that. Indeed, her father's exploits were discussed among even the most sheltered of her friends.
"What he does is rut," Ken Jin continued, his voice gentle despite his harsh words. "Like a beast in the field, he performs according to instinct without conscious thought, except to meet his most basic desire."
Charlotte felt Ken Jin's fingers touch her chin. She felt the rough brush of his calluses, the cool press of his skin against hers as he drew her around to look at him.
"What he does is not wrong. It is merely ignorant."
"Mama believes it is wrong. She says that's why William is... isn't very bright. And that is why she prays so much." She bit her lip, stunned by what she had just admitted. Why would she tell that to a servant? And yet, who else would she talk to about it? Ken Jin was here. He'd lived in their home for the last ten years. He understood what went on in the family; he probably knew better than she did.
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