Foxy - Industrial Complex

Foxy - Industrial Complex Foxy - Industrial Complex

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

College student in mid-twenties tries to get an internship at a Chinese factory to get sexual favors with impunity

Summary

College student in mid-twenties tries to get an internship at a Chinese factory to get sexual favors with impunity

Content

Submitted: January 30, 2012

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Content

Submitted: January 30, 2012

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I know who I am. I have lived 25 years. Every morning, I wake up, and I am the same. I am an asshole. I still go to a community college to finish my business administration degree. There are no illusions about hard work earning me the presidency or a mega-CEO position. One of the school boards in the hallway had a flier for an internship in China. The board was completely overfilled for tutoring and study abroad opportunities. Cute girls with rosy cheeks smiled at me from all of them.
 
Last night, a newspaper article had described working conditions in Chinese factories for consumer electronics. Young girls from poor rural areas would travel for days to reach oppressive working conditions. Bosses would often use them for personal services like hair washing and sex. Having a slave army sounded good. I would never have a position, where a dark history could haunt me anyway.
 
The Chinese have a habit of holding long silences. Due to their crowded conditions, there is little physical privacy, like an office. So, they keep mental privacy. They keep the insides of their heads to themselves. I was sitting in a hall in China. We had a long banquet table. The American intern candidates were on one side. The Chinese factory management was on the other side. They had carefully arranged us by our test scores. The big wig plant manager sat at the top of the table. He was a large man in an Armani suit. His son, a skinny tall fella with hard eyes, sat next to him.
 
The students on my side of the table had pale faces and clothing from Target. None of the heavy hitters from ivy league schools had applied to the program. While an internship in China seemed glamorous. It yells of international business expertise. The actual jobs were unpaid. We’d have to supervise a team stacking phones into boxes or something menial like that.
 
The girl at the head of the table, the only girl, was holding a business card from the factory manager in both hands – yep, both hands. That’s how our teacher at home had taught us to receive business cards. It’s been five minutes. She is still staring at the business card. Even the big wig’s face displayed a frown on the forehead, while he kept trying to patiently smile. We were all waiting for her to put the card away, so that the meeting could progress. Christ, the whole morning pissed away with getting to know each other.
 
Dear god, I just hope that she won’t put the business card into her back pocket, because that’s the social equivalent of sitting on someone’s face. Though, it would be funny to imagine the frail girl with her gray pencil skirt sitting on top of the face of the self-important big wig. She’d be yapping, “Am I doing it right? Am I doing it right? Do you want me to move a little left? Oh, your big flat nose feels good there.”
 
In front of me sat a city official. His face was round. He was about my age. I had seen plenty of those kids in my community college. They dressed nicely and didn’t know what to do. He didn’t seem to know either. He’d been eating the whole time without saying anything. In best Chinese custom, he was belching like a pig. That’s how they express pleasure with the food. He was also eating with an open mouth. He had a small nose. He brought the bile up in me. Back in America, I would have just grabbed him behind his neck, slammed his face in the plate, and with the tone of an elegant British gentleman told him, “Oh, hickley, you eat like a pig. Where are your manners?”
 
The city official let out one more belch. I couldn’t hold back. I let out a burp. It was one of those roaring things from deep in the belly that make the vocal chords vibrate like weddings bells. I could see his face melting as the force of my gully air gushed into his face. The sound of my belch echoed in the room, as if a buck was roaring during mating season. And, it just kept coming and coming. Even the Chinese hosts started looking worried and terrified. Those cocksuckers, I was going to let it have them. I found another pocket of air in my belly to let out. “Love your food, guys.”
 
Everyone at the table hurried to pass me more dumplings and rice. It was like a mad panic. This was the first time I smiled with happiness since leaving the airport in Bejing in a white communist bus.
 
Another fifteen minutes past. The hosts let us out onto a field. The dab sky was filled with smog. The grass was green, yet weak. A few bare trees surrounded the field. There was a notable absence of things like buildings in the background or a tool shed. This was going to be our final test. We had ten finalists. Two internships were open. The consolation prize was a weekend of factory tours. They made us line up like soldiers on the side of the field. We had to scream “I love Foxy,” the name of the industrial complex. We had to wave in some eerie cheery manner for a photographer. I told myself, just let it wash over. Once I’m out of the limelight, I’ll get to have a lot of fun with my slave army.
 
The son of the factory boss let a German shepherd dog onto the field. He had long hair. The snout was pointed. He reminded of a wolf. The face was absolutely black with a browner back. The paws bounced at ease over the field. The eyes darted nervously all over the field.
 
The factory boss announced, “Here is your final test. All theory is worth nothing, if you can’t lead. The workers in this factory are very primitive. They are simple farmers. If you can lead a dog, you can lead a factory worker. Your task is to lead the dog through an agility course. The two best times win the internship.”
 
See this is where the factory lords and I differ. Dog training is a good leadership exercise. They think of their workers as beneath dogs with disgust. I think of training a dog as proving your worth before you are allowed to lead a human.
 
The Chinese brought out plastic tunnels, benches, and hurdles. We politely waited. The half of the Chinese that wasn’t building the course was busy smoking. That’s another hardship of being in this country. They constantly smoke without apology. And, their teeth are stained yellow from the smoking and tea drinking. They call it culture shock. I felt irritable. I hadn’t punched anyone in two days. I was trying to keep it together until they’d leave me in a windowless room with my army of slaves.
 
The girl with the pencil skirt and pink blouse was up first. The high heels sunk backward into the grass. She wobbled walking toward the dog. The dog was held by a handler. The dog paced nervously in circles. It was a young dog, untrained. The moment the girl took the leash, the big dog leapt up on the little girl. The big bushy dog was leaning against her chest trying to lick her face. The girl’s eyes were closed. Her lips pushed out into a round circle of deep red lipstick. Her hand with the fingers stretched out tried to push the dog’s face away. She pushed like a paper weight. The dog’s face moved around her hand with agility. She screeched like a little girl.
 
The dog got confused. The dog wrapped its front paws around her hip hard. The dog started humping her knee. The girl screamed for help. The factory leadership laughed unabashedly with black hate written on their faces. They were all male. They hated women. Seeing her struggle let them live out their disgust.
 
That’s the second difference between them and me. I loved seeing that girl struggle, because it was so sexy. It was so much emotion, so much rawness. I loved seeing her blouse disheveling. I loved getting glimpses of her belly skin and her bra. There is something in her girly screams that resonated in my heart that turned me on so much and made me want her.
 
The girl fell over under the pushing of the dog. She got on her knees and started crawling away. The dog was running all around her with the tail wagging high. The wet nose poked her all over as the dog was sniffing her. When the dog prodded her sex from behind, she let out an especially breathy and squeaky yelp. The dog simply tried smelling her ass as dogs do.
 
She made it behind the line of men. She crawled between the pant suit legs. The dog did not dare step closer to the men. The factory boss called out the next candidate. The next candidate was a blond tall guy with clothes that fit too loosely. He was a slouch. He seemed unsure. His face was fired up with intensity. He wrapped the leash five times around his wrist and started dragging the dog to the first hoop. Immediately, the dog tugged its tail beneath the leg. The head drooped down. The whole body compacted and cowered.
 
The first obstacle was a ring that required the dog to go through the ring. The dog dug all four paws in and was terrified of the ring. The blond slouch reached with one hand through the ring to feed the leash through it. He was going to muscle the dog through the ring. He unleashed a barrage of insults at the dog, “I’ll tell you who is boss. That’s all you need to know, ugly ass dog.” To amp the pressure on the dog, he reached one leg out and kicked the dog in the side. The dog yelped in pain and started whining. “You dumb dog, need some training. I’ll train you with my kicks.”
 
From the intense pulling, the collar slipped over the head of the dog. The dog took off running. The blond slouch went after it. “You fucking dog stand between me and the internship. I won’t let you mess it up, you cursed dog.” The factory leadership applauded the lads trying. The dog got itself trapped in an outside corner, where two walls joined.
 
The blond slouch walked up to the dog with a menacing look on its face. He was swinging the leash in a circle like a cowboy. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” said he was a menacing look on its face. The poor dog was curled up into a tiny ball in the corner. Its body was shivering with fear. The blond slouch reached for its head without hesitation. The dog leapt forward, bit his hand, released and ran off. Fresh red blood streamed over the hand of the guy. He was holding up his hand with a questioning face, “Why did you do that?”
 
An ambulance arrived with blaring sirens. Funny, how they are colored similar to American ambulances, yet look like cheap knockoffs. I used the commotion to disappear back into the dining hall. The banquet table still had the food leftovers. Chinese custom frowns upon taking the last item from a plate. So, there was still plenty of meat left. I was wearing a suit. I stuff the pockets with meat. The suit would be ruined from the grease. However, I had no more purpose for wearing a suit after this shindig.
 
I arrived back with the crowd, when the ambulance left. One of my American co-candidates explained to me that the guy had never handled a dog before and was deeply afraid of them. He had tried to overcompensate his fear and ignorance. The factory leaders looked actually very pleasing at him for his iron fist. Yet, he was declared disqualified like the girl.
 
From all the other candidates, Bernd was the most skilled. He had grown up with dogs. He had a firm, relaxed demeanor that the dogs immediately recognized. His comments were clear and short. It was amazing to watch him direct the dog and see the respect in the eyes of the dog.
 
I was the last candidate. I had barely made it into the top ten finalists. The dog paced nervously as I approached it. The other guys had stressed the dog. I squatted down. I told it, “I’m going to take good care of you. You are safe.” I realize that a Chinese dog is as likely to understand English as an English dog. However, even though, it kept pacing around, it somewhere registered my sentiment.
 
With my front hidden from the sight of management behind me, I slipped my hand into my pocket and broke off a piece of pig. I put it between my index and middle finger to hide it. I reached out. The dog cautiously came close and licked my hand. I let it have the peace of pork. I heard one of the factory managers exclaim in surprise. I let out a sly smile, because I had gotten through my whole life by cheating. I pretended to adjust my jacket to get more pieces of pork. The dog became docile like a lamb as it took the pork pieces from me.
 
I got up and walked the dog through the course. We did the ring easily. It walked on a high beam. It jumped over an obstacle. I petted it occasionally with praise and dropped more secret meat pieces. At this point, only Bernd had finished the course. So, time was not an issue. The others had all disqualified themselves in one way or another.
 
Darkness had fallen over the field by the time I finished. The Chinese awarded Bernd and me awards. Bernd was tall and well built. He dressed very neatly with a handkerchief poking out of his jacket and a time piece attached to his suit. My suit pockets had leaked grease out by now. Though, it was dark enough that nobody noticed that dark spots. The girl had recovered her composure. She was throwing Bernd and I warm hugs as a display that she was a good sport.
 
The factory boss took us in his 7-series BMW to the company dormitories. The leather felt rich on the skin. The seats were wide. There was so much leg space that I felt like in first class. Outside, the street lights were few in between. Throngs of workers in company standard pants and blue shirts walked down the sidewalk. Buildings were broken or partially constructed. Garbage was floating in the streets and collected as drifts against the walls. The place had the feel of the forsaken city in Half Life 2, the computer game. The words of the beginning of the game went through my head: “The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference.” The suggestion is that a bad ass in a place, where he crosses evil master plans, can kick some serious ass. I certainly wasn’t a right man by any means. This felt like a very wrong place regardless.
 
My room was of small square size without any window. There was a small bed frame with an old foam mattress. There was a bare table with a chair. Both were scratched by former users. A few hooks on the wall were to hold my wardrobe. A broom was in a corner to help the place clean. I opened up my suit case and went to sleep.
 
The next morning, a young man came into my room without knocking. He was wearing a hat like a uniform. He looked like one of my buddies from college. However, this guy had a serious air about him. He watched me getting dressed. Then, he walked me outside. There was a long line of people with big bags on the sidewalk. They were dressed rather colorful compared to the factory uniforms. They were young twenty year old. Some of the girls had fashion haircuts. There was yelling at the front of the line.
 
“What are they yelling about?”
 
“Back in their rural villages, they are told about fantastic salaries and benefits. They rid a train for a day or two. Once they come here, they find out the real pay. They don’t have the means to go back. They don’t want to lose face to their family. So, they stay.”
 
A bus pulled up next to us. There was no line. People just started pushing and shoving to get in. They were mostly young people. By now I recognized the little flair, the little logos, and the little embellishments that they were wearing. There was definitely some kind of fashion culture going on. Most of the faces were ghostly tired and emotionless. However, in between, I could see a spark in an eye or two. Some men and some women were holding hands. There was some life after all.
 
We walked up to a huge two story high factory building. It was plain on the outside. There was a dirt hill in front of it. Workers were pushing and shoving over it. Apparently, the timecard reader was mounted against the wall. They had neither finished the sidewalk to walk up to it or installed enough readers for all the workers. Even shy girls had to learn to push themselves to the front to clock-in and clock-out.
 
We entered the factory. The noise was intense. Work teams were squeezed close together. There were tables with cheap small chairs around them. One foreman had a man do pushups as punishment. Some of the workers wobbled, because their legs had become so fluid filled from standing twelve hours that they could barely walk. There were a lot of young women. They were pretty flat chested though, for the most part. Fingers were unbelievable fast. I couldn’t even make out the individual motions of fingers as they manipulated objects.
 
My team was in the back of the factory. They stopped to form a four by five row like in the military. They greeted me in unison. Each one had been given an English name for me. I couldn’t remember the names. There were four guys and sixteen girls. I smiled as I scanned their faces, chests, and hips. All the things that I was going to do to them! And, they would have no recourse. I told them to get back to work and stop wasting time. Their faces looked so hurried, as they ran for their chairs and sat down.  Above our station was a banner that said, “Work hard to today or work hard finding a new job tomorrow.” They seemed a bit traumatized.
 
I sat down and watched them. Their job was pretty simple. They take cell phones out of a box, insert the battery and turn them on. They’d set up a whole line of cellphones that were booting up. Once it booted, they clicked a few functions and turned it off again. They’d grab cables and a manual from the middle of the table and package the cellphone for the consumer. Every once in a while, a small electric truck came by to bring more material and pick up packed boxes.
 
There wasn’t anything to do for me. I could have rallied the workers or randomly punished someone with exercises to keep them in a constant state of terror. Though, I don’t like following orders. So, I watched them work their little Chinese asses off.
 
Some of the girls had big moon faces. Some looked so exotic that they seemed like masks. There was one particularly cute girl. She had more Caucasian proportions. She had blue eyes. She had a cute stubby nose. Her breasts were pretty small. However, they were nice round mounds. I wondered what she would be like in bed. Would she be a nymphomaniac like the girl in the movie “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon?”
 
I know that I told you that I am an asshole. However, I have my hesitations. I’m in a foreign culture. Maybe, what I read in the papers was wrong. Maybe, they’d publically beat me up for this. My heart was beating hard, when I walked up to her chair.
 
“Your name is Rose, isn’t it?”
 
“Sir, I will work faster. I am so sorry. I was slow last hour. I will make it up.”
 
Her head was craned around to look at me, while her fingers were still flying over the cell phones. She was typing in two cellphones at the same time. I couldn’t tell that any of them slacked off.
 
“Why don’t you take a walk with me.”
 
I could feel everyone’s head at the table lower with tension. They were working even faster. I could barely breathe with the tension that I had caused. I put my hands behind the small of the back to pretend to be relaxed and walked off. Rose tripled with small fast steps behind me. I walked into one of the shower stalls adjacent to the factory floor.
 
“I want you to wash my hair.”
 
I paused. I wasn’t quite sure what would happen now. I mean, I wouldn’t follow such an order. Nobody back in America would.
 
“Oh, yes,” she smiled and bowed her shoulders. Her slender fingers took off my shirt. She popped off each button with ease and speed. She slipped her hands under my shoulders. The shirt was folded neatly like at a Gucci store. She pulled my undershirt over my head. She took me gingerly by my hand to lead me into the shower. Feeling her cool and smooth fingers gave me an instant hard on. Her touch was so intimate. She gently made me bow forward.
 
She adjusted the water, scrubbed my head, and washed off the soap. She was done so quickly. It took her sixty seconds. Her expedient factory hands had given me the fastest wash ever.
 
“Hey, don’t you people know anything about giving a luxurious hair wash?”
 
“I was too slow? I missed a spot?”
 
“Hey, I’m not some cell phone that needs to be stuffed away.”
 
“I don’t understand.”
 
“How does your mom give you a hair wash?”
 
“My mom say, ‘you wash your own hair or I hit you.’”
 
“Jesus, what kind of family life is that.”
 
“Here, I’ll show you.”
 
I pulled a chair from the changing area into the shower stall. I told her to sit down. I moved her down the chair until her butt was at the edge of the chair, and her head was leaning far back. Her body was stiff with tension about the unusual request. I let the warm water moisten her hair. The warm relaxed her. My hands massaged her head and folded the hair together. I’d let water soak into the hair and squeeze it out. Her raven black hair was so smooth and sexy. Her face got wet. The wetness made her face look younger and sexier.
 
She folded her hands over her belly in an impulse to make herself feel comfortable. Her feet in simple flats were turning pigeon toed. She turned the toes inward and rubbed them against each other. So, that’s where her body released tension. Everything else about her was controlled. But, down there, she thought nobody would notice.
 
I filled my palm with shampoo. Using the pads on my fingers tips, I gave her a firm scalp massage. I really worked out her scalp. The skin pushed around over her skull bone. Goose bumps were chasing over her slender forearms. Her face became a trance like expression. I kind of fell in love with her lips. They were small, yet bright red with a cheap slip stick.
 
I could see the outline of her bra. With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see me staring. I looked at her crotch to see, if I could make out the mound of her sex in the stiff fabric of her working pants. I’d get her naked soon enough. I’d see how thin Asian pubic hair really is. I doubt that the factory workers shave.
 
Warm water worked out the bubbly shampoo fuzz. I carefully guided the water down behind her neck to avoid it running down the back of her shirt. The room filled with steam and warmth from the waste of hot water. Touching her hair intimately and caring for her made me have bonding feelings for her. By the time, I applied conditioner for the second time, she gently snored on the chair, like a happy kitten. The conditioner was gel-like and heavy. 
 
The hair blower woke her up. She had beautiful, radiant hair. I don’t think that she used conditioner before. The nap made her look more relaxed and brought some luster back into her cheeks. Her shirt had gotten a bit wet at the front. She had an unsure look on her face. I felt anxious about seeing what the other workers were doing. I had been gone for an hour.
 
We walked back out the shower as we had gotten in. I had my hands crossed behind my lower back. She walked behind me with her triple steps. She sat down at the table silently. Everyone was working focused and swift as ever.
 
While I was sitting there, I had nothing to do but brood anxious thoughts. I mean all these workers must think that I fucked her.  Why else would I lead her into a private room? Though, nobody looked at me to hint with a knowing face at what I had done. Maybe, it was okay for Chinese to mistreat the workers. Maybe, they had different standards for Americans.
 
After three hours of nothing but my idle thoughts, I couldn’t take it anymore.
 
“Hey tall girl with the flat face, come over here!”
 
The tallest girl pointed at her nose. “Me?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“What’s your name?”
 
“Jasmine.”
 
“What do you guys think that I did with Rose?”
 
“Who is Rose?”
 
“Huh? The girl over there.”
 
“Oh, I didn’t know her name.”
 
“She’s your co-worker.”
 
“I only know your name. We don’t talk with each other.”
 
“Seriously? You never talk smack together about the company?”
 
“No, we work hard and go to sleep.”
 
“So, you don’t really care what happened to her?”
 
“No. Though, she seemed to smile, when she came back. I don’t think her punishment was very harsh.”
 
“Go back to work.”
 
I couldn’t believe how isolated these people were. Wow, I really had free reign to do with them as I pleased.
 
“Listen up! Research has shown that wearing a bra constricts breathing. Workers that breathe better work faster. I want you all to remove your bras.”
 
The flying fingers stopped tending to the line of cell phones in front of them. They reached their hands behind the back to undo the clasp. They gently reached under their shirts to pull the straps off their shoulder. There wasn’t even a hint of rouge on their cheeks. They were too focused on work to grasp the sensual dimension. White and skin colored bras came out of their shirt sleeves. The already flat chests lost a little extension. However, I was busy trying to make out nipples in their shirts for the next hour.
 
Bernd came by visiting. He seemed like a really friendly fella. He had a clipboard with a complicated table and tiny numbers scribbled. He had a stop watch. He began proudly telling me about his work optimization steps and his favorite motivational methodology. He quickly noticed my glazed over face and the bras on the table.
 
“You just don’t give a fuck. You are an animal. But, you are the only expat I have.”
 
“Dude, seriously, I just came here to take advantage of them. And, they are so subjugated by this all that they do anything. I haven’t fucked one yet.”
 
“Whatever rocks your boat! Though, you should come by for a beer. I got real beer, Guinness. There is a thriving black market.”
 
“Wow, you really got this figured out. I have spent my whole day sitting on this chair.”
 
“Well, this is a great opportunity. I wouldn’t waste a single day.”
 
There was something very innocent about Bernd’s face. He appeared like this big manufacturing manager type with his chart. However, he had a pale milk booby face. He was tall, yet stiffly uncomfortable. I smiled devilishly.
 
“Jasmine, get your ass over here.”
 
I whispered in Jasmine’s ear. She looked at Bernd and said, “you are so cute. You are such a big man. I love you.”
 
“Bernd, I may have been sitting around all day here. However, I have learned something about the people here. I could tell from her face that she had a crush on you. See she is tall and it is hard for her to find a tall man. I gave her permission to take a break to talk to you.”
 
I whispered again into Jasmine’s ear. Bernd patiently watched me breathe hot air into the girl’s ear. She reached her arms forward, embraced Bernd, and asked him, “Do you love me as well?” Bernd’s face was expressionless. He was struggling with being thrown out of his big factory boss persona into a romantic situation. “Yes, absolutely! You are a very lovely woman. Wow!” He smiled nervously. His head turned flush red.
 
 Jasmine’s face had been cold before. She had simply been following my orders. Feeling his warm and emotional response made her probably think about the chance of landing a rich foreigner. She started blushing as well. They were two tall people leaning against each other like bean stalks. As I had instructed her, she released the embrace. She grabbed his penis through his pants and added, “This better be American size. I’m tired off Chinese mini-dick.”
 
Bernd was deep red in the face by now. He was in trance, unable to move. I could smell his hard boner. He was horny as hell. I smiled like a devil. I had my slave army. They did my bidding well. Did this qualify as the beginning of running a prostitution ring? I’d like to add that to my resume. Oh, the devil in me!
 
I told him to squeeze her butt. He followed my instructions. I told him that he could have her for an hour. However, he’d owe me one. He took her hand-in-hand and walked out. I followed them out. He was so shy around girls. They were sitting on the curb. He’d tell her about his family farm back home. She was hugging his shoulder from the side and listened to him with an angelic face. She was touched by the huge American telling her stories about foreign countries and taking her through his narration into the middle of his family.
 
By the time, I returned to my team, everyone had left. Their shift was over. I slowly walked back to my room. There was supposed to be a movie theatre somewhere. Otherwise, there wasn’t much to do. It partly explains why everyone was staring at me. In Chinese culture, it is not impolite to stare. They are simply curious to see a white foreigner walking down the street. They look at my clothes and my different gait. At one point, a guy was staring at me too hard. I screamed “boo-yah” at him and threw my hands up. He was startled for a second. However, a small crowd formed around me. They wanted to see, if I’d do it again and figure out why I had done it in the first place. Unlike my worker team who had been trained in English, they didn’t speak English. So, it was pointless to explain it.
 
I thought I’d have a little fun. I started moon walking. It would have been neat, if I had started a moonwalking fad. However, they just kept staring at me. I waved my hand in front of my face, as if I were testing, if they were blind or dumb. Though, I remembered from cultural training that gesture means ‘no’ in China. So, I gave up. I walked back and let them stare. It reminded me of Marie-Antoinette, “let them have cake” – “let them stare.”
 
My room was bleak. There wasn’t even a poster to distract me. All I could think about was Rose’s body. I imagined her small body naked. I imagined the curves and the girlishness of her Chinese body. I’d definitely fuck her tomorrow. I was horny, yet didn’t masturbate. I had unlimited pussy now. Masturbating would be a waste.
 
I woke up fresh and eager the next morning. I shaved. I put on a little cologne. I got a fresh set of underwear. I stepped out into the street. Ignoring the stares was second nature by now. I sat down in my supervisor chair. It was the super visor chair, because it had arm rests. All my workers filed in early. Being early is a virtue in Chinese culture. They started working. Jasmine had a hickey on her neck. Things must have progressed.
 
When Rose came, I could barely hold myself back. I moved my hand up her neck to the base of the skull. I stretched my fingers out to get a full grip on her hair. I pulled her up. I pulled her behind me. She didn’t yelp. Nobody looked up. I had seen other managers kick their workers. I dragged her behind me. I felt like a strong cave man. She didn’t cry. It was simply normal to be bossed around in any way by the manager.
 
In the street, I got the usual stares. However, nobody stopped me. My heart was pounding. My legs felt like jelly from all the adrenaline. I locked the door of my room. Rose was standing middle in the room. She had the same solemn expressions on her face like most factory workers. She looked so cute, if she could just smile a bit. I sat down on my worn bed.
 
“Strip.”
 
She unbuttoned her shirt. Her fingers moved swiftly. She had figured out how to pop each button with a single push. There was no bra beneath. I told her, “good girl.” She removed her shoes. She bent over to pull her socks off. Her full black hair fell forward – so beautiful. She unbuttoned her pants. She wiggled out of them. The panties followed. All her clothes were neatly folded in the corner.
 
She stood upright with her arms at the side bare naked in the middle of my room. Her boobs were small, yet round mounds with big red nipples. The hair around her vagina was faint. Her thigh and belly had a nice curve to it, very feminine, yet slender. Her feet were small and cute. My boner was raging and screaming.
 
There was something about her posture. She stood like a factory worker in clothes, even she was naked. There was no sensuality or shame about it. Her face looked tired and exhausted, despite all the cute features. I looked into her eyes. She was ready to give me a blow job or whatever I asked. However, she had no emotional investment. I’m not looking for romantic involvement. However, I am looking for some kind of excitement, shyness, joy, or struggle.
 
I could see this becoming disappointing. Her inner well seemed depleted by the hard and long work. It reminded me of guys who can’t get a boner, because the stress at work is too much. She needed something to recharge.
 
“Have you ever gotten some pampering like a massage?”
 
“No. I am very uneducated girl. You had to teach me how to wash hair. I am very ashamed.”
 
There was a hint of red in her face – finally some reaction!
 
“Here help me get the mattress on the table.”
 
She helped me lift the mattress on the table. I moved the table into the center of the room. It was so sexy to be with Rose naked. My boner was screaming. All the glimpses of her boobs shifting as she bent over were so seductive. I told her to lie face down naked on the mattress. She obeyed. She placed her ivory body on the mattress and turned the head sideward. I could see the bulge of her firm butt. I could see the mound and slit of her sex peeking through between her thighs.
 
I got skin lotion out of my suit case and distributed a dollop in my hands. My hands glided down her back at the side of the spine. Her skin and muscles bulged up in front of my flat hands. The bulge was like a gentle rippled over her body. My hands went down to her butt I felt the firm flesh. I let my arms come back up her sides. I felt her hips and how small and cute her frame was. On the second circle over her whole back, a soft moan escaped her lips.
 
Her whole body was accessible to me. I was kneading her arms and shoulder. The blood flood into her muscles stiff from working hard. High pitched moans would escape her lips. Unlike white women, they were so girlish. I ravished my eyes on her naked flawless body. Her body was so limp. I moved her arms around. When I reached for the skin lotion at the bottom of the table, I could see her face. Her lips were pushed together by the mattress. A black opening was between her lips. The saliva poured out of her and pulled on my mattress. She was completely in heaven.
 
I worked my way down to her butt and thighs. When I kneaded her butt, I knew that the movement was going to stimulate her asshole and vagina. Simply, the flesh pulling would pull the skin down there. I pressed her butt cheeks together. When I separated them, the full aroma of her anal and sex rose into the air. It was the subtle smell of when someone relaxes. It was the smell of her ass. It was the dried daily secretion of her vagina that I had seen had congealed into white stickiness. There was a fresh smell of horny lubricant brewing inside her vagina. She was getting turned on, even in the deep slumber that she had fallen.
 
I heard her softly snore in her sleep. Her send drove me to become a horny raging maniac. However, I controlled myself. I did not want to spoil her by thrusting myself on her, when she was awakening her humanity from the harsh work. So, I worked my way down her legs and calves. I massaged her small feet. They were so flexible. I loved her little toes. I pushed my thumb into her arches. I let my fingers down in between the groves on the back of her foot. According to reflexology, this area on the foot stimulates her breasts.
 
“Honey, wake up, it is time to turn over.”
 
Her face was so sleepy and trusting. She rolled over without opening her eyes. She let herself fall into my hands on her back. I looked down her body. Her boobs had fallen flat over chest. Her hip bones were poking out. I saw her belly. I saw her sex. She was completely exposed and naked to me. I started massaging her boobs. I made big circles. I squeezed them. I brushed them inside and then outside.
 
Her belly was small and soft. I deeply massaged it. I reached all the way to her spine. I knew that people hold a lot of tension here. And, it can be very sexy to girls. She let out a long moan that upped and lowered like a melodic hymn. Her sex began to glisten. I worked down her legs. I went to the head. I massaged her scalp. I massaged her face. She’d snore on the inhale. On the exhale, she poured gently like a cat. I appreciated every curve and shape of her face with my fingers. Being so intimately close to her head made me bond with her.
 
Probably two hours had passed. I was slightly sweaty from working her. A really peaceful atmosphere had settled into the room. Her body tension was completely gone. She had fully opened up to me. She was drawing me in. I had been constantly horny with a stiff erection. I felt a moment of hesitation to breaking such a therapeutic and healing time for dark sex. However, I was too horny.
 
I walked to her feet. I began massaging her inner thighs. I worked my way closer to her sex. I felt the bend in the groin. I wiped my hand across her sex in big strokes that went up one thigh and down the other. Thus integrated, Rose did not pause at the touch of her sex. She only surrendered more into it. I circled the base of my palm on her pubic mound. I glided my hand up and down along her vaginal lips. She turned more and more wet, yet was deeply enveloped in her trance.
 
I lifted her knees over my shoulder and started eating her out. My lips enveloped her sex. My tongue slithered between her lips. The tip of my tongue dug down to find her clitoris. She was delicious. Her sex was like a juicy orange. The outside had been dry. However, on the inside she had been turned on and the slick wetness had built up. I licked up every drop of her delicious nectar.
 
She was so in trance that she probably did not realize that change from massage touch to sexual until sensual feelings had enveloped her. And, then it was too late for her mind to protest. My fingers moving around her opening beneath my face on her sex were too delicious. Her erotic feelings in her thighs were too dominant to resist. She was probably too relaxed to go into an orgasm. Instead, she was probably deep in a wonderland of erotic feelings.
 
I climbed on top of her and dove my penis deep inside of her. Her sex was tight. I could feel her pubic bone. I could feel her cervix against the back of my penis head. I kissed her lips. My tongue plunged into her. Her mouth opened. It was full of wetness. She devoured my tongue instinctively. She was so far gone in her sexual dream that her body was controlled by animalistic instinct to devour me back.
 
Her boobs felt wonderful in my hand. The whole skin to skin frontal contact stimulated the happy parts of my brain. I had nestled one hand in between to play with her nipple. She writhed under me to fuck me harder. I worked a good rhythm and devoured her mouth with all my strength. A film of sweat surrounded us. Our muscles worked hard to rub and grind against each other.
 
I came inside of her. My jizz filled her belly. Knowing that made me even hornier. My erection did not pause. I kept taking her even more. She moaned in her own ecstasy. Time became non-linear. I went from little bites on her neck to cranking my head down to suck on her nipples. Her hands groped all over my back, squeezing my hair, digging her nails into my butt.
 
After what seemed like hours, there was a knock at the door. A hurried voice of one of my workers, still couldn’t memorize the names, said, “come quickly. There is a big problem.” I pulled my penis out of Rose. She opened her eyes. I looked down at my wet penis. Her inside thighs were completely drenched in a mixture of my jizz and her juices. The mattress was soaking wet. Circular borders had formed on the mattress, where our fluid had dried at different times of our romp.
 
I pulled my pants over my penis with her juices on me. I threw a shirt on and followed the worker back to the factory. Rose reeked of sex and me. I loved that a lot. She had a happy smile on her face. It was like she had a glow over her body.
 
At our factory table, everyone was off their chairs. They looked terrified. The son of the factory boss was on the other side. He had a group of five goons in black clothing with sticks. Jasmine was on the floor with her hands under her shoulders. She was struggling to make a pushup. However, the son’s foot was pressing her back down. The goons laughed.
 
“No bra, huh,” said the factory son looking at me.
 
“What’s going on?”
 
“You don’t punish your workers enough. Your second shift is almost over. You haven’t punished anyone. I am taking up your slack.”
 
“They work hard. They don’t make mistakes.”
 
“It’s not about mistakes. You have to keep them fearing you. This whole factory is built on fear. When the cat is fat, the mice dance on the table.”
 
“Hey, I was just punishing this one.” I pointed at Rose.
 
“Oh, you punish with honey.”
 
“Yes, I do punish with honey. Let me show you something.” I had recovered from the shock and had a smile on my face. The boss’ son was too curious to pass it up. He nodded.
 
“Everyone with me to the shower stalls.”
 
We filed out to a group shower stall next to the factory floor. From their movements behind me, I could tell that they trusted me more than the factory son. They kind of looked at me to save them. I locked the door. We were in a tiled room that about fit us all. White tiles were on the floor and ceiling. The only fixtures were metal shower heads and dials. The shine had dulled from usage. I had them create two rows of ten workers facing each other.
 
“I have received word of a toxic infection spreading at the factory. In front of you, your partner, will inspect you. If you are infected, you will receive swift treatment to save your life. The most notable symptom are green spots the size of a freckle. I want you to remove your clothing.”
 
The room was dense with bodies. The workers obeyed me without pause. The clothes were neatly folded behind them. They stood naked facing them. On one hand, they did not seem naked at all, because their posture was so forthright, as if they were normally standing in a room. At the same time, everywhere the eye glanced, the eye encountered naked boobs, bellies, butts, thighs, and four penises. I was erotically taken and figured the factory son would so as well.
 
“Now, inspect your partner in front of you. Be sure to look in every crevice. Pull the butt cheeks apart. Look under the soles. Split open the vagina. You want to squeeze the vagina lips together to look on the outside. Then, fold the vagina open like a flower and look on the inside.”
 
It is amazing, how gullible and obedient these Chinese workers are. The factory son stood at the head of the room with his goons. They had their arms crossed and looked on with serious faces. The girls were taking turns kneeling in front of each other. Their noses were so close to the vaginas, as they were inspecting. The young, slender fingers folded the vagina lips around like pages in a book. Even the four guys were earnestly studying the vaginas in front of them.
 
“Now, I know that there are guys. This is a medical procedure. This is not the time to get aroused. These ladies are very beautiful and naked. And, I know that you want to do them.” I intentionally talked about how sexy the ladies were to guide the brains of the guys to think about sex and arouse them. “Lady, if you see your guy partner getting an erection, you have to help him get rid of it. You have to stomp it out with your feet.”
 
I walked over to shy slender girl with butt long hair. “Look, he is getting an erection. Do something.” She immediately got up on one leg and started pushing her foot on his penis. She was kind of more massaging it.
 
“Help her out,” I called to the rest of the group. The other naked girls came running. They balanced on one leg and tried to gently, yet firmly stomp the guy’s penis. Them raising one leg exposed their vaginas more. Soon, the guy fell over on his bag. A free for all broke out. 16 girl feet her pressing on this belly. One foot was pressing on top of the other. One girl tried to pull her foot out from the wedge of feet. It was hard. She rubbed against the other feet. It was a skirmish of young girly feet pushing down on him.
 
I smiled at the factory son. I had delivered him an awesome porn scene in my mind. Yet, the factory son looked on with a serious face. Sure enough, the lad on his back ejaculated soon. His jizz covered their feet.
 
“Look, now he is getting an erection.” The girls stormed the next lad. The first girl kind of jumped and pushed the ball of her foot onto his penis. The young man fell on his back. A cheer escaped the girls as they stormed him. In a way, this was a release of tension for them to go after someone and push him down. They were hyper in trying to stomp on his penis. Everything turned into a big ball that moved slowly. A bored girl that couldn’t get her foot in, turned around to the next guy. It was a turn on to see all this femme dome.
 
“Okay composure people. We have to continue our check routine. Please, line up again and find a partner.”
 
They roused themselves and quickly aligned. Their cheeks were a bit rosy from the action. The guys had cum all over their bellies. Their genital hair was matted from the cum.
 
“Because we don’t have any obvious signs, we have to check for an early warning sign. The penis or vagina may taste like apple. I’d like you to take turns, get on your knees, and lick your partners genital. Please, be thorough. The apple taste may only be on top, below, or on the inside. So, please, lick every section and repeat.”
 
I had trouble suppressing my grin. This was too bold a lie. However, they did it. As serious as they packed cell phones, they scooted forward on their knees to eat pussy and take cock in their mouth. The sound of licks and suction was awesome. I let them go at it. After two minutes, one girl exclaimed, “I’ve been over every inch of her pussy three times. There is not a hint of apple.”
 
“Okay,  to be sure, let’s rotate. Have someone else taste.”
 
Devilish as I was, I knew that no matter how medical they treat it, getting your pussy or dick sucked for too long turns people on. So, I kept rotating them. And, I noticed the discomfort on some of the girls faces. It wasn’t discomfort from pain. It was like their eyes got droopy. And, then they firmed them again to try to hide their throbbing desire to be eating out and give into orgasms. The one thing they could not suppress was their breathing.
 
As they got turned on, their breathing got deeper. They tried not to pant. However, the stifled panting and moans made a lot of sounds. Lips were bitten. I thought I saw one girl push the back of a head deeper into her vagina, before she caught herself and crossed her arms behind her back to hold her hands back by force. One girl released a short earth shattering scream of orgasm. She could no longer contain herself. Yet, she stopped the scream sharply.
 
I walked up to the factory son, “are you enjoying the show?”
 
He replied with a pale face, “I did not know that there is a toxic infection going around. How do I know that I’m not infected? We always have horrible health hazards.”
 
“What? You aren’t turned on by this?”
 
“Why would I? This is a medical procedure. I’d like to be tested as well.”
 
I had to turn away to hide my outburst of laughing. Then, I waved a chubby girl over.
 
“Here, the factory son wants to be checked as well.”
 
The factory son docile as a lamb took off his clothes. His body was pretty well shaped. He had been working out hard. He spread his butt cheeks extra wide and pointed to the area between his toes. He told the girl not to miss a single spot. The girl with her big eyes and big cheeks moved her face all over his body only inches away to inspect for green spots. Then, she took his penis in her mouth.
 
I told her to suck it, because that would get the apple flavor out, if it was there. Her cheeks puckered in. I told her know teeth and to move her head back and force. I pretty much explained her to give him a blowjob, while pretending there were medical reasons for it. The factory son kept moaning. I told him to hang in there only a little bit longer, because we had to be really sure.
 
The factory son thanked me. He pointed out that now that he had learned the inspection technique, he would inspect his goons as well. At this point, I realized that my days at the factory were numbered. Eventually, he had to figure out that he was giving his goons blow jobs.
 
That night, I took Rose with me into my quarters. We cuddled. She curled up in to a ball on my lap. I wrapped my arms around her. I felt like the big protector. She was so cute as she nestled against my chest. I felt her breathing. She said that she could hear my heart beat. We fell into a daze. I felt cozied.
 
After a while, we roused to get undressed and go to sleep. Because my bed was so small, she had to lie half on top of her. Her bare skin against mine felt so good. We quickly fell asleep. Middle in the night, I awoke horny as fire from her body. I did not rouse her or foreplay. I just plunged my penis right into her. My skin was pulled hard by her dry outside. However, once I was in, my penis skin pulled out the moisture from the inside. The raw sexuality ignited Rose. Within seconds, she was wet like a monsoon. We fucked hard under the blankets. A puddle of sweat covered us.
 
The moment we both came, we fell asleep again. My penis stayed inside of her. It softened, yet it stayed inside. We stayed connected. When the morning alarm went on, it slipped out of her. She reached for me penis and tried to get it back in. However, it was too limp to stuff it into anything.
 
We got dressed and walked over to our team table. I didn’t feel like being an asshole anymore. I wanted to share something. I told them about soccer. I told them about the excitement, the rules, and the tricks. They ravishly listened to me recount famous games. I could feel their curiosity. So, I promised them that if we hit our quota early, we’d go out and I’d teach them soccer.
 
Now, I just needed a soccer ball. So, I summoned Jasmine to come to the shower with me. She stood there ready like all the workers do.
 
“I’m going to teach you how to dance striptease. Move your hips around. Softer! Bend your knees!”
 
Jasmine moved around her hips. I had her undo the top shirt buttons and bend over to give me a deep look down her décolleté. I told her to unbutton her pants, and fold the pant top down, yet leave them up on the hips to create a longing for them to come down. I had her put a foot in between my legs on the chair I was sitting. I had her unbutton my shirt and pull it part ways down to leave me in a state of dishevel. I had her show me her butt. I had her bite my cock through my pants. I had her place my hands on her panties to pull them down. I had her put her fingers in her mouth. She was getting all the moves together.
 
Then, I walked her over to Bernd. He was on his knees with the stop watch in his hand marking worker times on his clipboard. He was happy to see me and overjoyed to see Jasmine. “Jasmine wants to show you something.”  I walked him to a shower stall nearby his factory floor. I pushed him down on a chair.
 
Jasmine did her show very amateurish and never hesitating for one risky move. In the end Bernd was slouched back in his chair. His shirt was partly undone and pulled down his shoulders. The shirt was no more like a constraint that didn’t let him move. Jasmine was naked and grinding her hips over his boner.
 
“Bernd, I need you to get me a soccer ball from the black market. In exchange, I’ll leave Jasmine with you for an hour.”
 
“Hey, that’s prostitution. I can’t do that.”
 
“That’s love. Why else would Jasmine have learned so hard to make you happy?”
 
“Send her back in an hour with a soccer ball.”
 
His cock did the thinking for him. I mean could anyone resist with a naked young girl rubbing her vagina on one’s erection?
 
As I walked out, I heard Jasmine say, “I don’t know what to do next. He didn’t tell me what to do next. Do you know?”
 
An hour later, Jasmine arrived with a glow on her face and a soccer ball. My workers finished half hour early with the quota. I showed them how to play soccer. It turned out to be a runaway success. Other work teams formed soccer teams. We had a little league. The factory management gave us a little sponsor money, because the activity helped people get to know each other’s name. The social isolation had been a rampant problem at the factory. Management had tried paying a day’s salary to anyone knowing the name of a co-worker. Playing soccer and forming teams was much more effective in getting people to know each other.
 
Rose and I went steady. We slept every night together. She mellowed me out a lot. Being with her made me feel so good. I wanted to make people around me feel good. I played all the little things my parents played with me with her. There was a little song, where my ma had me hop on her lap. I made her hop on my lap to the song. She giggled so hard. And, I just smiled and my heart swelled with warmth.
 
The honey moon came to an end, on the first day of September. Twenty workers were threatening to plunge themselves to their death off a roof top, if working conditions didn’t improve. They had gone unpaid for three months without a single day of break. I always felt like a rebel. The union had no members. The police was owned by the factory. The judge was owned by the factory. I was the only person, who had a network to tap into, my soccer network. I initiated a peaceful Gandhi like protest.
 
I saw myself as the next Nobel peace laureate. I got hundreds of soccer players mobilized within an hour. We went into the streets chanting. We felt powerful as our chants drowned out everything. The loud speakers of the factory gave up yelling at us. The police force withdrew. We filled the streets around the building. The workers on the rooftop were waving at us.
 
Then, I felt a tuck on my shirt. Bernd was there. He pulled me and Rose away. I protested. Yet, he was so intend that I at least wanted to hear him and let him drag us to a quieter area outside of the roaring crowd.
That’s when I heard the screeching of a fighter jet overhead. The fighter jet came in low. Two rockets loosened from its belly. The rockets spewed fire and smoke. Then, I heard their sonic blast rocking the windows around me. Two huge fireballs engulfed the streets with the demonstrators.
 
Bernd yelled over the noise, “A navy seal team has secretly landed. They tipped me off. The factory asked the government to use military force on the protest. They could not come in without being detected. So, I had to drag you out. Their stealth helicopter is taking off in ten minutes.”
 
“Fuck!”
 
“We have to move. Leave Rose here. She is not American.”
 
“I need something from my room.”
 
“It’s on the way, let’s go!”
 
I pulled Rose behind me. We were all pale in the face with adrenaline. I threw open the door. I opened my suit case and dumped it out on the floor. With the empty suit case on the ground, I yelled at Rose, “Get in! For god’s sake!”
 
Rose’s life had taught her to be swift in calamity. She stepped in an curled on her side. I zipped up the suit case. Bernd should his head, “that’s like 100 lbs.” “Help me,” I pleaded.  We grabbed the suit case on opposite sides and struggled out of the building.
 
The stealth helicopter was waiting behind a group of trees. The navy seals tried to push the suit case out of our hands. However, we insisted. Rose in the suit case was lying on the floor of the copter. The doors were taken off. One soldier on each side was searching the area for hand carried anti-air rockets. Bernd and I were the only ones sitting.
 
A few hours later, we were sitting in an embassy in Tokyo. Rose had been discovered. She sat on the couch next to me. She was in a kind of limbo until I could find a way to marry her. We were on the fiftieth floor of a sky scraper with floor to ceiling windows. The room was meticulously clean. Big screen TVs played the news. The factory claimed an accidental explosion, when a worker was lighting up a cigarette next to an oxygen tank.
 


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