Jul 12, 2012|
In honor of the upcoming book fair, we publish an excerpt from the best-selling erotic thriller, “Fifty Shades of HK,” in which a young property agent fails to meet his quarterly target, much to the ire of his sexy older boss, Ms. Chan, who has a thing for humiliation.
With a hungry look in her eye, Ms. Chan took a mouthful of Domaines Baron de Rothschild, never taking her eyes off the undone button of my shiny polyester pants. She swallowed the velvety liquid, and then slowly, deliberately spilled the rest of the glass down the front of my brand-new new Giordano Concepts shirt. I gasped, my face reddening as deep as the blooming stains on my starched, white collar. I was humiliated, and yet inexplicably aroused.
“Let me take it off,” I whimpered, not wanting the liquid to stain the cream leather couch that I had bought from Ulferts just last week. “The stain—I… I can’t…” Right then, I wished that I had covered it in protective plastic like my mom told me to—and not just because of the wine.
“No,” she replied. “Agents who don’t meet their sales targets don’t get to have nice things.” With a hollow laugh, she produced the pamphlet for La Dominante, a new luxury housing development in Tseung Kwan O. “Tell me,” she purred. “If the gross floor area for the second-biggest flat in this development is 1,294 square feet with an efficiency of 79 percent, what is the saleable area?”
Oh god, no. My usually sharp mind had been short-circuited by the stirring in my pants. I couldn’t think. I knew that my punishment was coming, but this only made me more excited. I was trapped in a negative feedback loop of sexual stimulation. “Eight— eight hundred and— and— and—“ I mumbled incoherently, my voice thick and corded with lust. “Wrong,” she said, crumpling up the brochure and stuffing it into my gaping jaws. Tears sprang to my eyes, but at the same time—I can’t explain it—I didn’t want the exquisite agony to end.
As I lay sprawled on the couch, hog-tied with wine dripping down my chest and the La Dominante pamphlet in my mouth, Ms. Chan crossed to the window and looked out at the city below as the tropical rain lashed against the window. “Oh, Henry," she breathed. "You really are a sniveling little worm, aren’t you?”
“Mmmph mpppph hnnnghh,” was all I could reply.