Sinking into Shanghai

The sedan chair didn't go to the Bitten Peach brothel. Rather, it headed off to the west and into the lake area, where Tian Je had a hidden residence complex on the shore of the Dianshan Hu.

Justin was escorted to a pavilion with a wooden deck terrace hanging over the water of the lake. Prominent in the room was a large four-poster bed covered in colorful silk coverlets and pillows. Tian bent Justin over the end of the bed on his belly and mounted and fucked him from behind. Then he turned the youth on his back there, spread-eagled his legs, worked his knees in between Justin's thighs, and fucked him facing and hovering over him. When Tian was tired of fucking the young man, he brought in a muscle-bound, big-boned northern Chinese thug, whose most prominent bone was the one between his legs, and the giant bound Justin's wrists to the two posts at the head of the bed and for two days fucked him in every position the late teen had seen in postcard photographs depicting how a young man could be taken by a man.

Tian explained the process by telling Justin if he was going to be a high-ranking courtesan in a male brothel, he needed to know all that could befall him and he needed to be able to take cocks as large as they came. Tian didn't have to tell Justin he enjoyed watching the small, young man being bully fucked by a big bruiser. Justin could see that for himself.

Justin endured and sought to revel in it all as a necessary education to a world he wanted to float in. The shaft met his expectations of the stretch required to sheath it, and the Chinese thug took him higher into the heavens of passion and satiation than he had experienced before. He, indeed, found he melted to the attentions of a ling of gigantic proportions and a touch of cruelty in the taking.

Although he was being trained to be a courtesan in the Bitten Peach brothel down on the island of Hong Kong, though, he never made it there.

Tian Je decided to make the services of Justin, the delectable nearly nineteen-year-old, alabaster bodied, golden-yellowed hair English youth, a negotiating tool in a Triad territory stand-off parley he held in his lakeside hideaway with one of the chieftains of a Hangzhou Triad, Lung Mao.

They met in Tian's dining pavilion, surrounded by their wary henchmen, and Justin helped serve them at table as they talked grievances and business. He was paraded, in a near-transparent robe, before Lung Mao, a large-boned, ruggedly handsome, muscular northern Chinese thug. Lung Mao obviously was entranced by the young man and the desired agreement on the boundaries of the Triad empires on this region of the China seacoast was reached, whereupon Justin, eyes downcast, guided Lung Mao to Tian's master bedroom.

Before Tian's men who escorted the two there left the chamber, they stripped and suspended Justin by his wrists from a beam in the ceiling of the chamber, his feet barely touching the floor. When the men had withdrawn, Lung Mao stripped, presenting himself in magnificent erection--even thicker and longer than Tian's man who had prepared Justin, and walked around the young man, touching and fondling and stroking Justin's still-tender body, here and there, and everywhere, grunting his approval and arousal.

"Zhèyàng dì mĕlì yŭ chŭnjié. Wŏ huĭ hĕ lèyì jíeshòu nĭ de yíqiè," the fierce Hangzhou Triad chieftain murmured as he ran his hands over Justin's flanks. Justin shuddered in anticipation without realizing that the man hadn't just spoken of how beautiful and pure the young man's body was but also about how Lung Mao intended to take that away from Justin. As he fondled the young man, Lung Mao was stroking his own huge erection.

"Zhăngwò zuò nĭ xiăng zuò de shì. Wŏ shì nĭ yòng de--Do what you will with me, master. I am yours to use," Justin murmured, using the Chinese phrase he had been made to memorize for the occasion.

"Shì de, wŏ dāngrám huĭ. Nĭ huĭ shòukŭ de. Wŏ huĭ jìnqíng xiăngshòu nĭ--Yes, I most certainly will. You will suffer. I will enjoy you to the fullest," the huge Hangzhou Triad chieftain said with a laugh and a snort. "Báixĭ yòu jĭnfă bìyăn. Rúcĭ róushàn he chúngjìng--So white and blond. So supple and pure," Lung Mao whispered as he ran his hands all over Justin's body. He leaned in and took the young man's lips with his in a tender kiss. Then he grasped the curly golden hair at the back of Justin's head, arched the head back cruelly, bit the youth on one of his nipples, and growled, "Wŏ haì yòng nĭ zhídào nĭ jían jíao--I will use you until you scream." Justin had given a little cry when the cruel man had bitten his nipple.

Lung Mao slapped the young man across the face, one way and then the other, and reached down, grasped Justin's cock, laced his fingers through the young man's balls and squeezed them. Justin did scream then in surprise and pain. But he also ejaculated. Lung Mao leaned into the young man and took him in a brutal kiss on the lips. Justin opened to the kiss and returned it enthusiastically.

Lung Mao laughed. "Nĭ xiăng yào tā. Wŏ zhīdào. Háo. Wŏmen jiăng bĭcĭ. Yúkuài--You want it. I can see that. Good. We will have pleasure from each other."

Justin began to hyperventilate and to build to another erection. This. This was what he thought he'd been waiting for--the exhilaration of being taken totally by a big-cocked man. He was going to be taken, bound, brutally, so he might as well get whatever pleasure he could get out of it. He was surprised and a little embarrassed that the treatment did arouse him.

Lung Mao proceeded to use Justin past the point at which he screamed. Justin screamed as Lung Mao whipped him. Justin had not been whipped before, and it surprised and scared him more than was painful, as the man didn't lay the whip on lethally. But then the Triad chieftain lifted Justin as he hung from the ceiling beam and put him on the gigantic cock, Justin's knees hugging the man's hips, and fucked him in that position. Justin had the leverage to rock back against the cock, letting Lung Mao know he was into the fuck as well. Then Lung Mao went behind Justin, grasped his thighs, and stretched the young man's legs straight out from his hips, mounted and penetrated him from behind, and fucked him in that position.

After Lung Mao cut Justin down, he pushed his captive onto the floor on all fours, mounted him from behind and on top, and fucked him in that position as well. He left Justin balled up and panting on the floor and strutted around the bed chamber, looking here and there. He pulled a folded silk robe from a shelf, carried it over to where Justin lay, moaning, and dropped the robe on top of the young man.

"Gài zhù zìjĭ, hé wŏ yīqĭ qù--Cover yourself and come with me," he barked. Justin was able to discern what Lung Mao wanted him to do and did as demanded.

At the last moment, Lung asked Justin in gestures if there was anything he wanted to take with him--that he didn't want to leave behind--and for the first time Justin knew that he may not be staying with Tian Je in Shanghai or becoming part of the stable of boys and young men at the Bitten Peach brothel. He went to a cabinet and took out the stack of pornographic postcard photos of men fucking youths. When Lung saw them, he laughed, but he permitted Justin to take them. As they left the bed chamber, Justin was clinging to the giant of a man who had such an overpowering cock and mastery of him. Justin hadn't had as much sexual satisfaction and release with any man before the commanding Lung Mao, and he hoped he was right in thinking the Triad chieftain didn't intend on leaving Shanghai without him.

They passed the dining pavilion, where Tian Je and his men lay in pools of blood, having been surprised and dispatched while Lung Mao was fucking Justin. They went back to the Hangzhou Triad boats at the river harbor and sailed back to Hangzhou.

Lung Mao was, indeed, taking Justin into a new, more sexually demanding and satisfying world.

* * * *

Having let Justin go had eaten at Father Phillipe for some time. It wasn't just the problem of what to tell the parents of the student left in his care what had happened to him, but the priest himself hadn't realized how fond he was of the young man and how rotten it was of him to let Justin be taken away to be used in a male brothel. Within days of the parting, the priest had found where the Bitten Peach brothel was located and had gone there seeking Justin. The madam and prostitutes there had no idea who he was talking about--or said they didn't. Knowing it was a European youth and they were in a city where the Europeans had special status, they let him search the place to keep him from going to the authorities. No one there claimed to know anything about a handsome, perfectly formed nearly nineteen-year-old golden blond European teen.

He went back to the school and had a fake grave dug in the cemetery of the church attached to the school. He concocted a story about Justin's illness and last days and had a tombstone erected. But still he worried about the parents and about an empty grave. Even when he received word that both parents had died in a flood on the upper reaches of the Yangtze River, he worried. That couldn't take his own feeling of guilt away--and, being a Catholic priest, guilt weighed heavily on him.

The guilt and the last vestiges of a memory of Justin Barkley went away when a couple of years later Father Phillipe himself succumbed to the sickness he had claimed had taken the life of the beautiful, now parentless young man. He was buried in a grave right next to the false one he had dug for Justin.

Nearly twenty years later, after China had been ravaged for far longer in World War II than Europe had been and during which the Bitten Peach male brothel on Shanghai's Fuzhou Road had been forcibly emptied out and torn down, a new male brothel appeared on Fuzhou Road. It was named the Jinsè de Gōngdiàn--the Golden Palace--and was reputed to be owned and operated by a handsome golden-blond-haired man named Huáng Tóufă--Yellow Hair--although few other than the most select male patrons ever were able to claim to have met--and enjoyed--him. They just knew that his brothel provided not only the sexiest of young Chinese men and older teens but also an assortment of young European men--and the rumor was that Huáng Tóufă was the premier courtesan of them all.

A feature of the brothel that patrons were to remark on for years to come was that the walls of the reception room were covered with framed pornographic postcard photos depicting the many sexual positions older men could take young men in.

If they had seen Huáng Tóufă on the street, either Father Phillipe or the Shanghai Triad chieftain, Tian Je, might have recognized him. But both of those men were deceased. It only was the Hangzhou Triad chieftain, Lung Mao, the sponsor of the Golden Palace brothel, who knew that Justin Barkley had returned to and now wholly, in the form of Huáng Tóufă, was absorbed into Shanghai--and quite contentedly so.