The Goddess Of Fortune

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The Goddess Of Fortune Page 4

by Andrew Blencowe


  All the time Masayo was on her knees she was moaning loudly, as the act of sucking was exciting her even more.

  As Albert had explained to Nasherton earlier, all Japanese women think it an honor to be allowed to “dine.” And the ultimate delight was to be able to swallow all of a man’s milk.

  “They’re very different in that respect to white women, aren’t they?”

  Albert agreed, and went on, ever the analytical German,

  “There are other major differences as well. For one thing, Japanese women all climax four or five times and you can often feel the early contractions and pulsations the moment you enter. More and more these days, white women cannot complete—they get close but then you have to stop and they are forced to resort to the crude and primitive act of using their own fingers. In contrast, these Japanese girls are essentially walking, slightly chilled, orgasms.”

  Nasherton smiled at Albert’s use of the adjective—“Only slightly chilled, Albert?”

  Ever serious, Albert continued his lecture,

  “Oh yes. They have this extremely demure front and modesty because they are all firecrackers ready to explode. Diametrically opposed to white women, who are typically bluster on the outside but frigid on the inside. When I recruited these four beautiful young girls in Paris, I took them in pairs to dinner. They had not met me or each other beforehand. And both pairs thought it completely natural and normal to reward their host that night, and reward their host mightily. All four lack the white woman’s posturing, the whining, and the thinking she was God’s gift; no, none of that, just a sophisticated two hours of a half-dozen female climaxes by each girl. Then the expected nap.”

  Albert continued wistfully,

  “Yes, I like the Ritz in Paris, as the beds are so large there. On the night I interviewed Masayo and Suki, after the nocturnal frivolities the two girls had a bath together, both chattering away like elegant little sparrows. Looking at them against the soft pinks and peaches of the marbled bathroom, well I can tell you that that alone was very exciting and had I not been previously completely drained...”

  Albert smiled as he remembered those delightful times in Paris with these glorious Japanese women.

  Masayo’s mouth had worked almost too well, as Nasherton had to pull her off him. She was panting loudly and she got up and lay on her back on the bed; she took her fingers and again opened her lower lips. Normally, Nasherton felt this common female guile was a little too anatomical for his tastes, but the way this Japanese girl did it, it seemed perfectly natural. Immediately he pushed himself completely inside her, up to the hilt. Her almond-shaped soft eyes opened in shock, then surprise, then delight. Just as Albert had predicted, her contractions started pulsing immediately. She was panting loudly now and had her hands behind him and she was pulling him in, deeper and deeper. All the time, she was speaking Japanese in a high-pitched but soft voice saying, “iku iku; iku iku; iku iku; iku iku; iku iku.” Albert later explained the precise translation was the opposite of the European phrase—the Japanese girls say “I am going,” meaning “I am going out of control,” which in the case of Masayo was certainly true.

  While Nasherton thrust inside, Masayo pushed herself up; her eyes opened wide and she was quiet for a second or two—she let out a deep guttural moan as Nasherton felt her grip him like no other woman ever had.

  “It was not just the power, but also the duration—she was like that for ten seconds—her wide eyes stared at me and she seemed to be in a state of suspended animation. All this time the noise came from her. Then she relaxed. Before she relaxed I could not move in or out she gripped me so firmly. Amazing. Then there were a series of rapid but very light and soft contractions. Then it was over for her. She just lay where panting. I noticed all her body was covered with a sheen of perspiration; her back was dripping wet with perspiration.”

  The effect on the other three girls watching Nasherton on top of Masayo was to make them all as excited as Masayo. All three got on their hands and knees on the bed, and Suki asked Nasherton, “please sample all of us and tell us which one you prefer.”

  In contrast to Nasherton’s prior experiences with four girls in Paris and Capri, this was crème de la crème. In his life, Nasherton had never experienced such excitement as this evening, as these three girls unselfconsciously—and with complete naturalness—offered themselves to the Englishman to be ravished. And Nasherton observed one other thing: these girls were enjoying themselves more than he was. That truly shocked him, and it went a long way in explaining Albert’s love of Japanese women on his visits to Paris.

  After the excitement, Albert bid adieu to a very tired, but extraordinarily well satiated, Nasherton and quietly retired to his suite.

  2: Jules Verne’s Spaceship

  Vevey

  Sunday, 8 September 1940

  The next morning, Albert had an early breakfast of croissants and real coffee in the spacious restaurant on the ground floor overlooking the lake. There were just a few small sail boats on the lake, all slowly crawling along the lake’s edge like sleepy beetles. There was no sight of Nasherton and there was only one other table occupied—the four girls all flattering Albert with admiring glances. On his way out, he went over to their table and thanked them for all the “hard work” the previous night. Amidst the giggles, a flurry of hands to faces and downturned eyes resulted.

  “Actually we were going to thank you and Mr. Nasherton for such an exciting evening,” Masayo said.

  Astonishingly, her nipples were already visible at eight in the morning at the breakfast table.

  Albert smiled to himself at the unlimited carnal energy of these young Japanese women—he was reminded of Nasherton’s comments about the somnolent ways of plump English girls (Nasherton had actually been more explicit), and Albert was also reminded of the complete absence of cellulite.

  After saying goodbye to the four young ladies, Albert leisurely strolled up the path to the professor’s apartment. In the bright sunlight of the cloudless morning, the church bells called the faithful to worship.

  Once at the front door, Albert knocked and the professor opened the door, this time bright and alert.

  Conspiratorially, Stein confided that his wife had left to visit her friend in Geneva and, so—slipping into his American patois—Stein quietly proclaimed, “The coast is clear.”

  Sitting on the terrace sipping coffee, Albert asked about America and the current state of its economy.

  Stein said, “Wait here please.”

  He left the terrace, returning a moment later with a magazine.

  “Here is the most authoritative source we in the field of political economy have. It is a magazine that rather pompously likes to call itself a ‘newspaper’ so as to differentiate itself from the likes of Luce’s meretricious Time magazine and to associate itself with the quality broadsheets like The Times of London, and the Financial Times, and even the rather parochial New York Times.”

  Stein opened the issue to the page he had marked with a slip of paper.

  “The gist of this comment is that in 1930 the income of the average American was one-third greater than that of the average Britisher, but now at the end of the decade it is at par—the average American’s income is now the same as that of an Englishman. This is just 10 short years. And remember, apart from coal, Britain is devoid of natural resources, natural resources that the United States has in abundance. The magazine has recently commented that the United States seems to have forgotten how to grow. It also notes that in the five years from 1933 to 1938 Roosevelt has spent more money than the total money spent by all his 31 predecessors combined, and those presidents had to fund a terrible civil war as well as the Great War.”

  “Really, more than the previous 31 presidents, combined? Are you sure, is that really possible?” Albert said, clearly very surprised.

  “Yes, it’s rather amazing, isn’t it?”

  Clearly warming to his subject, Stein continued, Socrates-like,

 
“Is there hunger in Germany, today? What about America?”

  “Sadly, there is hunger in all countries. Sad, little children go to bed hungry in all the world’s countries. I would like to think that in Germany since ‘33, we have improved the lot of our people, at least I hope we have.”

  “And I think you have improved the lot of the average person in Germany, at least as far as their belly goes. And I agree with you—sadly, there is hunger in all countries. So let me put you in a spaceship from Jules Verne with engines made of the finest Krupp steel, and take you to a planet where there is hunger but the state dictates that six million pigs be slaughtered and destroyed and wasted. Or that farmers are paid not to grow food, even while honorable young boys in Brooklyn hang themselves so as to not be a burden on their starving family. Or that a farmer who wants to put an acre under crop needs a government license or is fined $1,000 a day. Or that chefs are told how they must make macaroni. Or that a housewife buying a chicken cannot select the bird, but must by law be given a chicken at random. So on this fantastical planet, housewives lose their primal right of selecting the food with which to feed their family. What would you say about that place?”

  “Six million pigs wasted. Well, Professor, you’re right, it is science fiction—no such place could possibly exist.”

  “Albert, I have described exact events that have happened in America in the past ten years.”

  Stein smiled at Albert’s frown.

  “Bizarre though it sounds, since 1933, Germany’s economy has been freer than that of United States. Obviously I am speaking strictly about just the political economy, not about personal freedom, as Germany’s one-party dictatorship is just that—a dictatorship, and like all dictatorship it is a terribly brutal one: Kristallnacht; the endless hounding of Jews; the copying of the Britishers’ concentration camps of their South African wars of the last century—the list of brutalities is endless.

  “But in purely political economic terms, there is less regulation and less harassment of German business men today than on the other side of the Atlantic. The wasting of the six million pigs was mandated by Roosevelt in an insane attempt to increase farm prices. Of course, that’s just another way of increasing hunger and starvation—the government told poor people to pay more to help farmers. And take the treatment of Henry Ford. When Ford refused to sign the so-called Blue Eagle code of Roosevelt’s NIRA and follow instructions that he must increase the prices of his cars, he was mercilessly persecuted. Ford was threatened by the brutal commissar, an impetuous bully named Hugh Johnson, a man Stalin would admire, both for his drinking and his explosive temper. About Ford, Roosevelt actually said at one of his press conferences that ‘we have got to eliminate the purchase of Ford cars from all government tenders;’ these are his own words, the words of the current American president. And when Ford bid on a contract for 500 trucks for one of Roosevelt’s alphabet soups—I think it was the CCC—his bid was $169,000 less than the nearest rival and yet it was rejected.

  “Now Roosevelt did not start the Depression, that dubious honor is reserved for his predecessor, President Hoover, whose nickname was the ‘Boy Wonder.’ Actually the Republican Hoover was much closer to Roosevelt’s ideas than most people realize: Hoover’s backward view was that ‘high wages creates prosperity.’ Obviously, the opposite is true. So before Roosevelt, after the crash of ‘29, Hoover forced companies to keep unsustainable and artificially high wages; these companies did what any rational business man would do, they simply laid off employees, which had precisely the opposite effect of what Hoover wanted. You see Albert, Hoover and Roosevelt both think that government is wiser than the market place. The Republican Hoover was the opposite of his predecessor, the Republican president Coolidge. Whereas Coolidge thought government interference caused more problems than it solved, Hoover loved to jump in, to ‘do something’—to do anything at all, no matter how bad. But the problem is that the things that Hoover did were hugely damaging. In the last stock market panic in ‘21—before Hoover—companies laid off workers and business improved with the increased efficiencies, and then they hire back the workers, and more workers as well. One of the many things Hoover did that was so damaging in the ‘29 Panic was he forbad companies to fire people, so many companies just went broke and shut their doors. And Hoover forced the railroad companies to spend one billion dollars, and this was at a time when the entire U.S. government budget totaled just three billion dollars.”

  At this juncture the two men were joined by Sebastian, Stein’s faithful dachshund, who wandered onto the terrace and after approvingly sniffing Albert’s shoes, proceeded to lie in the patch of sunlight.

  “He will get too hot in a few minutes and then will move back inside.”

  Sure enough, after two minutes Stein’s prediction came true.

  “Albert, you see, these days governments around the world believe that business men are more immoral than politicians, when in fact the opposite is actually true. A business man is only interested in one thing, namely profits, but politicians and their kowtowing minions in universities are only interested in power, hidden under the pretense of ‘helping people.’ Academics the world over all think they are greatly superior beings, blessed with superior intellects, conversing with superior colleagues, discussing superior topics, holidaying in superior locales, ineffectively lusting after pretty young waitresses. Fortunately, academicians are generally ignored. But politicians nowadays believe that only they can manage their country’s political economy, and that the normal and natural cathartic effects of busting of periodic bubbles with panics are unnatural. Politicians and my fellow academics don’t realize that they do more damage in the long term by trying to change human nature. And business men and especially investors are driven by the contradictory emotions of greed and fear. It would be nice to have the ideal of the ‘rational man’ but sadly people are not rational; they are primeval and crude and unpredictable; this will never change.

  “Now, the Jules Verne space ship stories are all true stories from America. Both Hoover and Roosevelt believe in action and in gambling with taxpayers’ money. Most important of all, they both believe in bigness, especially bigness in government. While the government of Hoover created the depression, the government of Roosevelt has made it the Great Depression. Hoover’s government encouraged farmers to over-produce, which they were happy to do. Of course, the inevitable happened and farm prices collapsed—as there was more supply than demand. So the Hoover government put an infected and unclean bandage on another infected and unclean bandage and wasted 500 million U.S. dollars in the process trying to fix this disaster.

  “And here is the most interesting point: in the same country, with the same workers, but with a different government in the decade of the 1920s, the country boomed. As you know this is a period that I have written about extensively and, of course, I observed the early years of the decade myself first hand when I taught at Harvard. In this period, President Coolidge was extremely conservative and believed that not interfering with the American economy was the best approach. Coolidge kept income tax rates low so that successful businessmen could plow back their profits into their businesses, which business men love to do as they generally treat their companies as their own little babies. And with these low taxes, Coolidge was rewarded with a robust economy. Of course, human greed took this too far, as it always does, and the American stock market became irrationally exuberant—the wild ‘animal spirits’ took over. For example, common people started to gamble on stocks and often did so using borrowed money called ‘margin’ and this was not investing for retirement but rather gambling.

  “They were able to do this only because the Federal Reserve flooded the market in 1927 with cheap money. At one stage in 1928, the amount of this so-called ‘margin’ was equivalent to 18% of the entire American economy. Of course, with all this loose money, stock prices increased at an unnatural rate—from spring of ‘27 to summer of ‘29, the stock index, called the ‘Dow Jones’ dou
bled from 200 to 381. So when the selling started in late 1929, the second human emotion of fear took over, and the stock market collapsed faster than it had expanded in the prior two years. Now this extremely unpleasant—but essential—purging would have been relatively short-lived, but for the all-knowing politicians and the Federal Reserve, who continued to interfere. The only way to tame animal spirits is by people losing money, not by government rules to ‘regulate’ the markets—until the last trumpet sounds, people will always be driven by greed and fear.

  “Albert, if you see people are oversized children, as I do, rather than as rational beings, then it is clear that these children need to be chastised rather than pampered. And farmers are a perfect example. In all countries, farmers are the greatest whiners—they complain about everything. The best solution is not to cave into their complaints, but rather to ignore them. Let the weaker farmers give up or sell out, this is called the marketplace, and the marketplace is just a formalization of human nature.”

  “The marketplace is simply an abstraction of humanity, of human behavior, of greed and of fear, of the very nature of people with their strengths and weaknesses. While politicians and their toadies in academia are convinced they can rise above this baseness, they are wrong. Politicians like to boast on the radio that they can quote ‘make the world a better place;’ actually, it is business that makes the world a better place, but the process is an ugly one, and people’s loathing of this ugliness is what politicians prey on. Politicians all promise to ‘control,’ to ‘regulate,’ to ‘improve.’ Their fanciful schemes often do generate a short-term euphoria, but this drug quickly wears off, and like the person running down stairs, more and more is needed—it is simply an addiction. And as the addiction rapidly grows, it needs to be fed more and more.”

  3: Cold Comfort for Fatso

 

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