Date: Sat, 18 Sep 2021 14:03:14 -0700 From: Timmy Elliot Subject: A kept man in China, part 6 ----- Readers: This is a completely fictional multi-part story involving a 25 year old white American man who finds himself at the beck and call of an increasingly confident 14 year old Chinese boy, while he is living and working in China. If you find this subject matter objectionable, please stop reading now. If you enjoy it, I hope you'll reach out with your thoughts and comments, I am at east.meets.west.te@gmail.com. Finally, please do consider making a donation to Nifty, to support the editors who make this site possible and allow this fiction to be published! ----- As soon as Xiaobo had left the bathroom, I collapsed to my knees on the cold floor, feeling vanquished. We had been so close! It felt wonderful to feel the rigid warmth of his cock pressing against mine as he pushed my cock down with his. It was as if he had won a battle. I was prepared to surrender, physically and spiritually, right then and there. But then, he walked out. It left me with only one conclusion: he had decided I wasn't even worth it. I was only good enough to carry out his tasks, not to satisfy him. I would only ever be his servant. It was a crushing blow. Despite my self doubt and shame, horniness still raged. Without a second thought, still kneeling on the floor, I clasped my whole cock in my hand and started stroking vigorously. I needed release! And I surely would have gotten it, carelessly spewing my load all over the tiled floor, except I heard Xiaobo call from the other room. "The laundry needs to be done." On hearing his order, I let go of my cock like it was a hot iron, stopping just short of bringing myself to orgasm. My small cock twitched bobbed a few times and oozed precum, but I had been denied the release I needed. This gave me time to ask: what was I doing? Servant that I was, I probably didn't even deserve to pleasure myself without his permission. I got to my feet again, and walked out into the living room with my little American cock still rock hard and glistening with precum dribbling down the shaft. I made no effort to hide it. Xiaobo, now dressed, didn't seem to take notice and matter of factly told me where all the dirty clothes were, and I set to my task. Eventually, my cock deflated and the horniness left me, but not without leaving behind a gnawing emptiness, a craving for something more. For better or worse, the rest of the day was end to end tasks. For the most part, Xiaobo stayed in his room doing homework, calling out new orders from time to time. I cooked us dinner, but remembered my rule and went back to my room to eat it alone. Even after our intimacy in the bathroom, he made no effort to invite me to share the meal with him. "Thank you for your work today," he finally said around 9PM. "You should go to bed now." I thanked him and slunk back to my room, closed the door, and literally wilted on the bed. The day and all its tension and excitement had drained me down to a weakling. The only saving grace was that, already being naked, I didn't even have to get undressed. I fell quickly into a fitful sleep, dreaming vividly. ------ In my dream, I found myself out on the balcony again. The sliding glass door was locked behind me again, but I didn't care. I understood that there was no going back inside, and liked it. This time the air was bitterly cold. I knew the chill must be making my manhood shrivel, but whenever I tried to look down at it, for some reason I never managed to see it. Instead I reached down to feel, and yes... my soft cock was small in my hand. Then I remembered the joke of the first girl I awkwardly tried to make out with back in high school, who saw me and said, "If you water it, maybe it will grow." And lo and behold, I was holding a watering can in my right hand; I decided I would give it a try. I stopped watering the plants and sprinkled water on my cock instead. The water, like the air around me, was ice cold. My cock tingled and I actually felt it drawing into my body. Again, I tried to look but it was unseeable, so I felt it. Now it was tiny. I watered it again. Now it felt puny. With a growing desire to see where this would end up, I dumped the rest of the water right on my cock, dropped the can, and felt with both hands. There was NO cock there. No balls. No hair. Just smooth skin. I laughed riotously, whether it was at the situation or at myself, I couldn't tell. I looked up from the balcony and noticed that the adjacent apartment buildings were looming right next to the balcony, seemingly almost within arm's reach. I could easily see one family after another, milling about inside their apartments or out on their own balcony. They were watching me intently with their deep brown, almond-shape eyes. I didn't want to hide from them. I hopped up on the railing of the balcony, balancing fearlessly on the edge, and called out to all of them, in Chinese, "I HAVE NOTHING LEFT!!!" I rubbed my hand over my sleek, androgynous groin as if to call all their attention to it. One by one, they broke into smiles and began to applaud me. Where Xiaobo's reaction in the bathroom had left me feeling worthless, the response of the Chinese neighbors made me feel appreciated for being... nothing. I was thrilled. At that point I lost my balance and began to fall backward off the railing, into the well of the balcony, landing with a loud crash. ----- I woke up from the dream with a gasp, the sound of my crash landing in the dream slowly fading from my ears. A moment later, the room lit up briefly a bright electric blue, and a few seconds later came a loud clap of thunder. All at once I understood, I'd been awakened from my dream by a thunderstorm moving through Shanghai. Even though I realized I had returned to reality, my right hand shot down to my privates, where I found them still in place, the same soft and small endowment I'd always had. Part of me was relieved that nothing had really changed, but part of me was disappointed to find I hadn't really become androgynous. I still felt the sense of thrill from the dream, how I'd been applauded not for being small, but for being nothing at all. I was trying to make sense of this guilty thrill when the bedroom door pushed open and Xiaobo walked in. I yanked my hand back from touching myself. "Are you scared?" he asked me out of the blue. His voice was surprisingly halting. "Scared? Of... the thunderstorm, sir?" In the dim light, I saw him nod his head. As confident as he was with me, it dawned on me he must be scared by the thunderstorm. My master... was merely a human boy after all. I looked at the clock. It was nearly 2AM. "Oh, no sir, in a modern building like ours, we're perfectly safe. It's just something exciting for us to watch," I said, making sure my voice exuded calm. To make my point clear, I got up out of bed -- it still felt weird to emerge naked from under covers with him in the room, but I was getting used to it -- and stood right in front of the floor to ceiling window. I looked out over the dazzling lights of Shanghai burning like embers in the night. The tall buildings and bright colors spoke to the the muscular power of China's mighty economy. He came alongside me hesitantly, perhaps still concerned there was a danger of being hit by lightning. I looked at him briefly with a sideways glance, and he was wearing just tight briefs. In the dim light afforded by the distant glow of the city lights, I could see the subtle ripples of his budding muscles, and the round heft of the bulge in his briefs. But then I looked away before I could grow hard. Just then a large lightning bolt sliced through the sky and hit the top of the Shanghai Tower in the distance. "There, you see? The Shanghai Tower just got hit and its lights didn't even flicker! Everyone inside is safe. So are we." No sooner had I finished saying "so are we" than the loud thunder arrived, rattling the window. Xiaobo jumped, then started to retreat from the window, perhaps not as much from fear as embarrassment for being startled. There was no hiding that he was scared. He backed away and sat down silently at the edge of my bed, still watching out the window... or watching me, I couldn't tell in the dim light. I walked over and took up a comfortable position on the floor at his feet. From where I sat, I had to crane my neck to look at him. Somehow, the shared experience of the thunderstorm and the dim lighting seemed to relax the expectations of master and servant, and I took a chance and asked him a question. "Xiaobo... am I always your servant? Like, even now?" I consciously used his name, and omitted the sir, waiting to see what his reaction might be. "No... not always," he responded after a moment of consideration. "Not now, I guess." My heart started to pound. This simple answer made me feel closer to him again, after the excruciating distance that had opened up between us when he walked out of the bathroom earlier. "I'm honored to be your servant, and I always will be. But... maybe there are things I can do for you... that you don't need to ask for." My heart raced even faster, and I tensed to see if he would stand up and walk out again, or chastise me for such impudence. After an agonizingly long pause, he finally asked, "Like what?" He called my bluff! Truth be told, I was even surprised to hear myself ask this question, and I certainly hadn't even dared to imagine I could do something of my own volition. Nevertheless, almost as if by instinct, I reached down and took his right foot into my hands, and raised his slender leg up so his foot was in front of me. I started massaging his foot, gentle as a whisper, kneading it slowly and sensuously. "Like this," I answered in a breathless whisper. "Mmmm..." Xiaobo let out a pleasured moan, making his answer clear. For the tenth time today, my cock stiffened and stood up between my thighs, and I saw Xiaobo looking at it. His moan told me he enjoyed the feeling, and my erection told him the same.