Readers' Submissions

Delightful Ning back in Farangland 7 – Now, Discover Your Strengths (2 of 2)



It's a mild evening. We sit on the terrace, digesting another great fish curry from my Minister of Food. Two lanterns flicker romantically in the dark.

I feel so content again. Eternal peace with my caring, honest, humble lady by my side.

"I want to get old with her by my side", I think.

I'll propose to her, in the next submission. Promised.

— THE BROKEN DREAM —

But we get to something else first. I don't remember how this comes up, back on that mild evening on the terrace. But somehow it comes up.

Says Ning: "What if I have a baby inside right now?!"

I freeze. "It's not at all likely", I reply, "you know that."

She insists: "But what if I do have a baby inside already?!"

"Hmm, this would be a problem", I say.

I have never seen her change like that. Her mood goes down 200 degrees. Her complexion drops three click-stops in 1/250 second. Black tragic woman.

But now that we are at it anyway, I have another sentence in store: "If you do wish a baby, we better talk first", I say.

She is completely broken and stops speaking.

This night, she sleeps in the living room.

Next morning she visits me in the sleeping room. I, half asleep, look up from the pillow, and she stands over my head: She demands to fly home as soon as possible. I don't care for her long time, she hisses, I just import her for sleep-sleep and take no responsibility. All her relatives, she yells now, had advised her not to visit me again. She shoves the ticket into my face and demands I change it for her. Now!

What a nasty gal.

I hadn't even had a cup of tea, and I need two before being approachable. She knows that. She also knows that I have complicated jobs to do, but that her upheaval renders me incapacitated. And I see from her face that now she even wants to step up her terror regime.

But I can't stay with a warrior in the house. I need a peaceful environment for my work and for my general happiness. Hey, I have to function.

I remember from the Washing Machine Incident one sub up that it is possible to *force* her into an amenable mode. Problem: This time a dull “Ning! What can I do that you believe me?" might not be enough.

I thrash her onto the bed and rape her.

It's really difficult to get between her, but I'm unstoppable, really, I perform well, to my surprise, it's fun, it's a challenge, and I can. She screams, she cries, she bites, she scratches, "I WANT FLY OUT, YOU STOP, YOU CRAZY, I DON'T WANT…." Shut up. Around her third climax, she changes her tape, "oh thankyouthankyouthankYOUUUU", she bursts into tears.

She curls around my finger in her lovely post-orgasm nap. Assorted lingerie still hangs from various extremities.

Quietly I get up. As I walk to the bathroom I see something lying on the floor. Oh, her airplane ticket. I lock it away in the safe.

All the following days she is sweet like a kitten and attentive. She never asks about her airplane ticket.

— THE BROKEN TOWEL HOLDER —

I come home from a business meeting. I bring home contracts and papers that show extraordinary sums right on the first page, right next to my name. I spread the sheets in the home office to get them in the appropriate order before I file them. When Ning opens the door to my office room, I quickly turn the papers around, face down. Why should she see those sums?

"How was your business meeting, dear?" She notices that I try to hide the contracts from her, but doesn't comment on that. – "Oh, just fine." – "Some good jobs for you?" – "Yes, just fine."

Later, over dinner, she seems so moody. She doesn't talk, no joking, she is even less serviceable to my anticipated needs.

"What's on your mind, dear?"

"NOTHING", she snaps!

"Ah, come on, you have something on your mind. You worry something?"

"No, NOTHING!! It's just…"

She pauses.

"Yes…? It's just…?"

"…it's just you don't want me to see your business papers. I feel sad when I see you turn the papers away from me."

"How can we stay together long time", she says, "if you never trust me and I can never see your papers?"

Listen to that: "Stay together long time". She doesn't say "marry", but she means it. And I wanted to propose to her, but only in the next sub, and after her craze up in the first paragraphs I have to reconsider anyway. Now tell that to your SE Asian lady.

I want her to get drunk.

In front of me, I do have my glass of Nero d'Avola. Ning will happily refill the glass if the level drops under 50 percent. But only for me. For her, she has her usual glass of – tap water. Yes, that's what she drinks mostly.

How do I get her on to wine? I have an idea! Oh, but while the idea comes up I know I have to act fast, to remain in a practical state. I feel it already.

I grab the wine glass, leave the table and kneel down on the thick, welcoming living room carpet. "Ning, come here!" She follows duly.

I tear down my trousers and slip. And see, I'm getting big rapidly, it's difficult to create an applicable angle. But I still manage to manoeuver my dick deep into the wine glass and bring it back, dripping red. "Drink wine", I order her, "DRINK WINE"!

Ning descends on me like a shark! She munches me with a fervor that's even unusual for her. (She likes to eat me. She says it reminds her of those fish dumplings you get in cheap, but hearty street food soups in Asia. My Minister Of Food is a gourmet.) She quickly sucks me int​o unexplored ​​​aggregate states, but I do manage to get out of her voluptuous organ and somehow squeeze my hulking piston back into the wine glass for a reload. She wants to bite me in the glass, I have to press her head away to prevent her from smashing it all. Then she is over me again. While I knee there, she in her rage under me, and I feed her Nero rosso from my dick, I grasp the wine bottle and drink for myself. I keep some wine in my mouth, moving the liquid round and round. I take her hair and rip her off me. I take her face with both hands and put my mouth on to hers. I shpritz the wine into her mouth. I tear her off my mouth again and plant her back over my hammer. I gargle more wine, drag her back to my face, her completely heated and feverish face, I infuse her more liquid, I make a pumping face to show not to swallow the wine, but douche her mouth with it, I prop her back down onto my other pumping pump, drown another wine into my face, move in sync with her wild rummaging, tear off her trou –

Later I hear a hard, steely sound from the bathroom. Slowly I realize I am alone in the living room by now. I could fall asleep right here, but what with that noise? Is Ning ok? Oh my god, it is difficult to walk…

In the bathroom, I see the metal towel holder lying on the floor. It has been torn off the wall. How on earth is that possible? Ning, fragile Ning? And where is she now?

I trundle to the sleeping room, where all lights are on. My Ning lies on the bed, naked and mostly uncovered. It's not warm, but the blanket is only over her head! She curls up like a question mark. Her right hand clings fiercely to the blanket, but only her head is covered and not one square inch more of her sensitive, sensible, edible bronze body. She looks as if no ten A380s would wake her up now.

Funny evening, I think. I liked it! I find the cam and take a picture of my curled-up Ning, sleeping with her head covered, but otherwise *beside* the blanket – this will make her look!

"Nice, one can get this well-mannered well-composed Good Asian Girl into quite a state", I think.

"I want to get drunk with her more often", I think.

"I want to get old with her by my side", I think.

Yes, I'll propose to her, in the next submission.


Stickman's thoughts:

Well that's one way to spoil a good wine…

I think Mr. Pothole has a dark side to him….either that, or Dana put him up to this…