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Subject: A Kept Man in China, Part 1 —- 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 ail. 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! —– If you had told me in college, just a few short years ago, that I would be living in China as a kept man, I would have nearly died laughing. And yet here I sit, a young white American man in my guilded cage in a 31st story apartment in Shanghai, writing my story. And I’ve never been happier. How did I come to China? Like almost every other white person, to try my hand earning some money by teaching English, living an exciting life in a foreign land. You see, I learned the hard way that getting an undergraduate degree in mathematics doesn’t do all that much good in the job market unless you go on to get a PhD in mathematics, something I have no intention of doing. So I graduated in 2017 and wasted a year trying to find a job that fit my interests. Then one day, I stumbled across an offer to teach English in China, and even though the pay wasn’t great, the sense of adventure seemed to make up for it. I jumped at the chance istanbul travesti and never looked back. White guy teaching English in China. I can almost hear what you’re thinking. Just horny to hook up with Chinese girls, right? Wrong. I’m gay. And I’ve never been hung up on Asians. I will admit I sort of flirted with a cute Chinese-American guy I met when I was taking a semester of Chinese during college, but it never went anywhere. Besides, even before I came here, I knew just enough about gay life in China to know it’s not the best investment if your goal is to make out with guys. Even if you are a 6’2″ tall, blond haired, blue eyed American walking stereotype. Nope, this move was all about adventure and challenge. So I moved to China in 2018, and had a great time teaching. Made a bunch of friends, mostly other expats, and those were the ones I hooked up with if I felt horny. My Chinese has gotten good enough that I can find my way around daily life and even read a newspaper, but when I’m teaching English, I don’t speak in Mandarin because I know my accent is terrible. It’s weird to be living in China but hiding that you can speak their language! Fast forward to 2020. I’d made such a name for myself teaching classes that I started getting offers for private one-on-one tutoring. Shanghai is like living in the future, and there are families here that are amazingly wealthy and getting wealthier. Just a few private contracts and I quadrupled my salary! Never mind that their teenaged istanbul travestileri children who are my pupils are probably smarter than I am, I’m earning whatever the market will bear. Which brings me to where I am today. Stuck in China because of COVID… and now in 2021 having my job shut down because President Xi is pushing foreign tutors like me out and English is losing favor. I had to tell my favorite pupil, a 14 year old tall, lanky boy named Xiaobo, that I’ll be closing up my tutoring business and going back to America soon. He in particular was so smart that part of me wishes I could just hang around and see what he becomes. We never made idle talk during our tutoring sessions, and it would be hard for a 25 year old like me to be friends with a 14 year old Chinese boy, but faced with the prospect of leaving, I realized I would miss him. And then he interrupted me and said something that changed my life. “My father told me to offer you a position as our butler instead. Would you like it?” “A butler, as in… a servant?” Xiaobo smiled faintly. “If you want to call it that,” he offered. “This is a full time job. The pay might be less, but you will live with us in the guest room, and if you cook for us, then you eat for free too. I hope you are interested?” For some reason it charmed me that he actually hoped I’d be interested. It made me feel special. I only had to think it over for a few seconds. The guest room where I tutored Xiaobo had a heartbreakingly beautiful western travesti istanbul view of sunsets over the massive and sleek skyscrapers of Shanghai, and a large comfortable bed. The kitchen in which I’d be cooking was higher end than anything I would ever see back in America. And, if I was ever trusted with driving tasks… it would either be in a BMW or a Maserati. “And this way, you can still tutor me, but you won’t need to have any other clients,” the young boy offered. “I’ll do it,” I answered in a flash, my heart pounding with excitement. Another thin, confident smile. Xiaobo turned and called over his shoulder in Chinese, “Dad, he says yes to being our servant.” He surely never imagined I spoke enough Chinese to understand what he had just said. Then I heard his father call back, “Tell him we’ll have a 5 year contract for him to sign tomorrow. In today’s China, the Americans are the servants,” he answered with a hearty laugh. I tried to keep myself from blushing at what I was able to understand. It made me feel helpless but excited at the same time. It sank in. I’d be an American servant in a Chinese mega-city. Something about that made my cock start to stiffen. Why did I like it? A five year contract? It worried me a little bit. What if I didn’t like it? And then I allowed myself to daydream. Five years of living in a high rise penthouse, cooking in a sleek modern kitchen, driving expensive cars, without paying rent? What’s not to like? Who says Americans can’t be servants. My reverie was interrupted as I felt Xiaobo’s hand touched mine. “It will be your job to do anything we ask,” he explained in a low voice. And then, looking intently into my eyes, the boy repeated, “Anything.” My cock stiffened to full hardness as I answered, “Yes. Anything.”

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