[This tale was inspired by a food post (see pic on left) and a comment by a member of SBM. Enjoy.]
When Ms Ana Ham Chim Paeng first met Mr Christian Vadai she was taken aback by his forthrightness. "I would like to flog you with my youtiao," he said. Now Ana, as virginal as freshly made dough, often sat beside a youtiao in the local deli and so understood in part what Christian was talking about. But flogging? What's that? Has it got to do with la mian, you know, the pulling and banging of stretched noodles on a table? Stuff like that got her excited, especially so after she realized that she had something her roommate and friend, Kate Doughnut, didn't: an unusually sensitive butt!
It was a bottom, when spanked, will cause her to see snow fall and imagine herself becoming a sexy French beignet. Ooh, how nice! (Ok, perhaps that imagery is a bit rich but everybody knows that a ham chim paeng with icing sugar on top is really a beignet with a Singlish accent.) Ana couldn't understand why she was so attracted to Christian. After all, she had yet to see the extent of his wealth. Didn't her mom tell her not to settle just for smart ties and shiny cars? Not to mention a swanky office where one piece of furniture could cost more than a photocopier? One shouldn't go about believing everything in that Pretty Woman movie, mom had said. As a career woman, giving freebies will get you jack.
From her best friend Kate, Ana had learnt that Christian's immense fortune was earned from trading in complex spices and confections with missing centers - issues of which both taxmen and the Interpol from all over the world were keen to dig deeper into. The complex space-time of toroidal matter not withstanding. "Let's continue this interview in my apartment," suggested Christian, as the sun outside began to set. He smiled his best Vadai smile. The suggestion snapped Ana back from her daydreaming. In a thrice she found herself scooped up like, well, a newly minted HCP and carried into a room so red folks would mistake it as an ancient betrothal chamber. You know, the kind where young virgin maidens in veils wielded short scissors in a stand against forced marriage and painful sex.
In the chamber, Christian dumped Ana onto a downy bed that felt every bit like a three-ply napkin - the same kind ought to be used by Old Zhang Qi if they were not so stingy. "Ooh, Christian," cooed Ana. "You go straight to the point like a crisp samosir!" Christian smiled. The Vadais and Samosirs have been on the social circuit a long time, often meeting at buffets in hotels and self-catering functions. They were popular and rightly indulged. "No point beating around the eggs as they say. And I didn't build my fortune by being lame like the P Mayams, or just on hot air like the C Baturas. We Vadais are rather straight forward. You either like us or don't." Ana was beginning to see Christian in new light: Polite and formal during the interview in his ultra-posh office, he was now firm yet playful in his private domain. She wondered at what Christian had installed for her. What's with this guy and his youtiao? Naively, she looked around the Red Room to see where it was hid. Christian climbed up the bed and knelt over her. "But first, I need to blindfold and handcuff you to the bedposts. It's there in the BDSM 101 manual. Once unsighted, your anticipation will rise exponentially. It will be extremely exciting and transformative - like a prawn cracker thrown into sizzling hot oil! My dear, I am going to deflower you, but at the end, you will bloom like no other flower the world has ever seen. Do you want to be that new you?"
Ana turned her gaze from the expensive Van Gogh painting on the opposite wall and nodded in earnest agreement. "Yes! Yes!" she said, as Christian's eyes glistened like a boy with a new toy. Ana found Christian's wealth intoxicating. What would the new Ham Cheem Paeng be like? she wondered. A new version of the Cronut? A Wonut? Or maybe a Cantonut? how about a Ham-so-nut?
The thought of her being no more an ordinary ham cheem paeng caused Ana to be impatient. She writhed and begged like chee cheong fun for brown sauce.
Unable to hold back anymore, Ana screamed. "Give it to me! Give it to me!" She then froze, suddenly surprised at her own virginal candour. It was both invigorating and liberating. Some place in her went wet. Finally, this ham cheem paeng is gonna get some filling! Ana asserted. As she swooned, Christian smiled a victor's smile. He always did whenever a ham cheem paeng blushed like a cherry doughnut!
However, as Christian sank into Ana, he felt soft. His short time with Ana was perhaps a tad too long, resurfacing emotions long buried. The humid weather in Singapore was not helping; folks like him just didn't suffer well in it. We all know what happens to deep-fried stuff left out in the kitchen for too long!
Christian also wondered if his youtiao would flop like a wet, disinterested rope. Better not! Could it be that he was beginning to have "feelings" for Ana, something a dominatrix once warned him about. "Christian, all this heels and black leather is not play. It's something deeper. And one day, you will find the girl that will fill that Vadai hole of yours completely!" Christian didn't believed it then. But maybe that woman his mother could be right. Ana closed her eyes and offered up her wrists to Christian, eager to be`bonded, whipped and rolled. If you were a croissant reading this, you would do a Danish and leak some sticky cream. Excited, Ana giggled her humble small-town chortle. Back in her village in China, the only fun she ever had was with her cousin, Hei Ka-fei, or Black Coffee. He often dunked her in a brackish pond for laughs and she had found it perversely enjoyable. It set her up perfectly for Christian, even as he was coming across rather deviant and complex; charming yet dangerous; pure but mysterious. It was all rather confusing, much like eating char kway teow with no lard, less oil and sans sausage. HOW CAN??? Fifty shades of brown, that's what Christian Vadai was. Fifty shades of brown. As the second handcuff clicked shut on her wrist, Ana arched in lustful anticipation. "Spank me! Spank me!" she urgently commanded Christian. The young billionaire from Little India duly complied and cracked his youtiao, which was now fully unsheathed and thankfully, still crisp. Somewhere in China, a startled Black Coffee jolted and spilled something in his lap. He suddenly thought of an old sweetheart with a somewhat nice bottom and a weird pondage inclination. He also wondered why his wife, De Bei-nie, glared at him for no apparent reason. The end.
A quick one by TC Lai. ;-) Note: Growing up, ham cheem paeng was a Cantonese euphemism for "minge" - a British slang term for a woman's.... Well, you go find out from an urban dictionary! ;-)
When Ms Ana Ham Chim Paeng first met Mr Christian Vadai she was taken aback by his forthrightness. "I would like to flog you with my youtiao," he said. Now Ana, as virginal as freshly made dough, often sat beside a youtiao in the local deli and so understood in part what Christian was talking about. But flogging? What's that? Has it got to do with la mian, you know, the pulling and banging of stretched noodles on a table? Stuff like that got her excited, especially so after she realized that she had something her roommate and friend, Kate Doughnut, didn't: an unusually sensitive butt!
It was a bottom, when spanked, will cause her to see snow fall and imagine herself becoming a sexy French beignet. Ooh, how nice! (Ok, perhaps that imagery is a bit rich but everybody knows that a ham chim paeng with icing sugar on top is really a beignet with a Singlish accent.) Ana couldn't understand why she was so attracted to Christian. After all, she had yet to see the extent of his wealth. Didn't her mom tell her not to settle just for smart ties and shiny cars? Not to mention a swanky office where one piece of furniture could cost more than a photocopier? One shouldn't go about believing everything in that Pretty Woman movie, mom had said. As a career woman, giving freebies will get you jack.
From her best friend Kate, Ana had learnt that Christian's immense fortune was earned from trading in complex spices and confections with missing centers - issues of which both taxmen and the Interpol from all over the world were keen to dig deeper into. The complex space-time of toroidal matter not withstanding. "Let's continue this interview in my apartment," suggested Christian, as the sun outside began to set. He smiled his best Vadai smile. The suggestion snapped Ana back from her daydreaming. In a thrice she found herself scooped up like, well, a newly minted HCP and carried into a room so red folks would mistake it as an ancient betrothal chamber. You know, the kind where young virgin maidens in veils wielded short scissors in a stand against forced marriage and painful sex.
In the chamber, Christian dumped Ana onto a downy bed that felt every bit like a three-ply napkin - the same kind ought to be used by Old Zhang Qi if they were not so stingy. "Ooh, Christian," cooed Ana. "You go straight to the point like a crisp samosir!" Christian smiled. The Vadais and Samosirs have been on the social circuit a long time, often meeting at buffets in hotels and self-catering functions. They were popular and rightly indulged. "No point beating around the eggs as they say. And I didn't build my fortune by being lame like the P Mayams, or just on hot air like the C Baturas. We Vadais are rather straight forward. You either like us or don't." Ana was beginning to see Christian in new light: Polite and formal during the interview in his ultra-posh office, he was now firm yet playful in his private domain. She wondered at what Christian had installed for her. What's with this guy and his youtiao? Naively, she looked around the Red Room to see where it was hid. Christian climbed up the bed and knelt over her. "But first, I need to blindfold and handcuff you to the bedposts. It's there in the BDSM 101 manual. Once unsighted, your anticipation will rise exponentially. It will be extremely exciting and transformative - like a prawn cracker thrown into sizzling hot oil! My dear, I am going to deflower you, but at the end, you will bloom like no other flower the world has ever seen. Do you want to be that new you?"
Ana turned her gaze from the expensive Van Gogh painting on the opposite wall and nodded in earnest agreement. "Yes! Yes!" she said, as Christian's eyes glistened like a boy with a new toy. Ana found Christian's wealth intoxicating. What would the new Ham Cheem Paeng be like? she wondered. A new version of the Cronut? A Wonut? Or maybe a Cantonut? how about a Ham-so-nut?
The thought of her being no more an ordinary ham cheem paeng caused Ana to be impatient. She writhed and begged like chee cheong fun for brown sauce.
Unable to hold back anymore, Ana screamed. "Give it to me! Give it to me!" She then froze, suddenly surprised at her own virginal candour. It was both invigorating and liberating. Some place in her went wet. Finally, this ham cheem paeng is gonna get some filling! Ana asserted. As she swooned, Christian smiled a victor's smile. He always did whenever a ham cheem paeng blushed like a cherry doughnut!
However, as Christian sank into Ana, he felt soft. His short time with Ana was perhaps a tad too long, resurfacing emotions long buried. The humid weather in Singapore was not helping; folks like him just didn't suffer well in it. We all know what happens to deep-fried stuff left out in the kitchen for too long!
Christian also wondered if his youtiao would flop like a wet, disinterested rope. Better not! Could it be that he was beginning to have "feelings" for Ana, something a dominatrix once warned him about. "Christian, all this heels and black leather is not play. It's something deeper. And one day, you will find the girl that will fill that Vadai hole of yours completely!" Christian didn't believed it then. But maybe that woman his mother could be right. Ana closed her eyes and offered up her wrists to Christian, eager to be`bonded, whipped and rolled. If you were a croissant reading this, you would do a Danish and leak some sticky cream. Excited, Ana giggled her humble small-town chortle. Back in her village in China, the only fun she ever had was with her cousin, Hei Ka-fei, or Black Coffee. He often dunked her in a brackish pond for laughs and she had found it perversely enjoyable. It set her up perfectly for Christian, even as he was coming across rather deviant and complex; charming yet dangerous; pure but mysterious. It was all rather confusing, much like eating char kway teow with no lard, less oil and sans sausage. HOW CAN??? Fifty shades of brown, that's what Christian Vadai was. Fifty shades of brown. As the second handcuff clicked shut on her wrist, Ana arched in lustful anticipation. "Spank me! Spank me!" she urgently commanded Christian. The young billionaire from Little India duly complied and cracked his youtiao, which was now fully unsheathed and thankfully, still crisp. Somewhere in China, a startled Black Coffee jolted and spilled something in his lap. He suddenly thought of an old sweetheart with a somewhat nice bottom and a weird pondage inclination. He also wondered why his wife, De Bei-nie, glared at him for no apparent reason. The end.
A quick one by TC Lai. ;-) Note: Growing up, ham cheem paeng was a Cantonese euphemism for "minge" - a British slang term for a woman's.... Well, you go find out from an urban dictionary! ;-)
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