The Pat Wong Diaries Ch. 13

It was barely four months after Chun's night of revelation that Akram crossed the twenty girl mark. Chun was on a mission to introduce as many unmarried female Chinese students as she could to the new world of delights, and she went about her pursuit with the single minded determination of a religious fanatic. She knew exactly what to tell the girls she wanted to induct and knew how to say it.

And so the Daughters of Mao group was born.

Chun ran her operation with admirable efficiency. She ensured that every girl that was inducted into the circle was physically and psychologically ready, was free of venereal disease, and could fit in the culture of our group. She established a non-profit organization, kept a fund, to which all the girls pitched ten dollars on a monthly basis, and administered a logging and recording system that allowed her to smoothly manage the day to day activities of the group. A million little things had to be taken care of and she took care of them: scheduling the girls, stocking on the necessary condom and KY jelly supplies, filing the quarterly non-profit statements, and later on, overseeing the lecture program that our group sponsored, where we invited feminist scholars and writers to talk about issues of sex and power.

One of Chun's crucial tasks was to ensure that Akram was comfortable and able to perform his duties. She understood early on that the coitus sessions needed to be spaced so as not to exhaust him and so instituted a strict rule that Akram would engage in no more than two sessions per day, for a total of no more than ten per week, and each session was to last no more than half an hour. She had to do this because in the early days, and with just four or five girls, Akram would often find himself cooped up for five or six hours at a time, day after day, pleasuring the girls. And Akram seemed to be enjoying himself enough, except that it was clear from the look on his face that he was getting tired, even exhausted. There were days when he ejaculated four or five times. Chun knew that such a pace could not be sustained and so she intervened, decisively, openly explaining to all of us in an emergency meeting in Akram's living room the new curtailed access to Akram's penis.

To ensure that Akram was able to discharge his responsibilities, Chun enforced a strict diet, exercise and sleeping schedule upon him. She also wanted to ensure that his academic progress did not suffer and in fact that it benefited from his new role. Akram obliged, and indeed his colleagues in the lab began to notice a marked improvement in his ability to focus and deliver on time.

Ensuring the proper logging of all activities was something that Akram thought of. I remember he called a meeting to explain its purpose (we were only four of us then, Bao having just joined us). He went about his explanation in serious tones, listing the reasons why it was crucial to keep meticulous records, pointing out how such discipline was the difference between the civilized and the uncivilized, between those who succeeded and those who wallowed in mediocrity.

We giggled as he presented, all four of us finding it funny that he would be so earnest and serious about his record keeping. But he ignored our laughter, as he often did, finding it inexplicable, something that we silly Chinese girls just did for no reason.

"He is so sweet," we whispered to each other, finding his pedantic lecturing irresistible.

So he bought a large scrapbook and an expensive looking log book, and began keeping meticulous records of all the sessions. In the scrap book he dedicated a page for each girl, where he pasted her picture, noted the day and time of their first time together, her weight and height at the time, and how long the session lasted. In the log book he noted each session and wrote in detail about what he and the girl did and how it went in general.

A rule that Chun enforced without exception was the necessity that the girls were not sleeping with anyone else while they were part of the coitus rotation. They could date -- and Chun encouraged them to date -- but they could not have sex. That was how we lost Ling-Ling, a husky girl with big feet and breasts unusually large for a Chinese girl. She was one of the sexually most demanding girls who engaged in coitus with Akram at least once a week, sometimes more than that. She was the one who was always eager to fill in for a cancellation by a girl, which happened often enough to ensure that she secured for herself at least one extra session per week. And then one day, she handed a letter to Chun explaining that she had found a boyfriend and that she wanted to withdraw from the circle so that she could freely partake of her boyfriend.

Chun was happy: for Ling-Ling, but also for the group.

On Saturdays all the girls gathered in Akram's apartment to cook some dumplings for him. He loved dumplings, but more, he loved the fact that so many Chinese girls were in his house, cooking for him. He loved the smell of fart and ass that the cabbage emanated and would walk around the apartment, taking deep breaths and smiling, naked from head to toe, his penis limp and resting.

Once in a while, he would tap on the shoulder of one of the girls sitting by the table around which we had gathered to roll the dumpling balls, and would signal with his head in the general direction of the living room. We would burst out laughing and the girl, shy and giggling, would stand up, wash her hand, and follow him to the living room. There, Akram would climb on the flat wooden coffee table, doggy style, and present his ass to the girl, who would proceed to part his ass cheeks and begin to smell his ass hole. And then she would insert her finger and grab Akram's cock and tug at it for a while. This usually lasted a few minutes, after which Akram would get up, kiss the girl gently and accompany her to the bathroom where she would wash her hands.