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Chinaman's Chance

Date: 1/16/2015, Categories: Science-Fiction, Interracial, Murder, Non-Erotic, Romance, Violence, Author: sourdough, Rating: 89.7, Source: sexstories.com

this would happen. Have you learned your lesson?" The trouble was that everything felt real right then. I was especially sore between my legs. A small hand mirror showed the cut I suffered just below my left eye was going to scar. There wasn't a lot of swelling. The window had bars on it that I wouldn't be able to slip between even with my small frame. Yelling for help or screaming was probably a waste of time. I'd probably just attract the guard. It was dark out and a cold fog was rolling in. I was scared, lonely and tired. I needed some sleep. I would be able to think better and plan my escape. But where would I go even if I did escape? I didn't have any friends or family to rely on. I knew from personal experience I couldn't depend on the police. And who would believe my story? Excuse me, I'm from the future, the year 2013 to be specific. I need to get back to my own time. Can you help me? Yeah, they'd help me, right into a loony bin. It didn't seem like I was going to get any more customers they wanted me to service so I decided to try to get some sleep. I did fall asleep, but not without shedding a lot more tears. I was awakened by knocking at the door and the sound of sing-song pidgin English. The door opened and the middle aged Chinese guy from the night before walked in holding a tray and wearing a big grin. "You eat," he said. "You have big day today." "I'm not hungry," I responded. Actually I was starving. I wanted so badly to smash my fist into that guy's teeth. I ... noted the difference from the way he spoke the night before and this morning. He spoke fluently when he was whispering to me. This morning he sounded like he had only an elementary grasp of English. I wondered why he was putting on an act. He asked me something in that Chinese dialect I didn't understand. I responded in the Mandarin dialect that his mother was a dog turd. "You must eat," he insisted loudly while shaking his head 'no'. He dropped something from beneath his tunic and kicked it underneath the bed. I almost didn't see him do it. "Your ugly face is spoiling my appetite, whatever your name is," I responded just as loudly. "I'll eat after you leave. Now get the hell out of here, you slant-eyed motherfucker." I heard a muffled guffaw from somewhere and I knew we were being spied on. The man frowned and then returned to grinning. "My name Sammy, but okey dokey," the man replied. "I go." He knocked on the door and someone let him out. I examined my breakfast tray. It was a bowl of mush, a dry piece of toast and a cup of water. A wooden spoon was my sole dining implement, nothing I could use as a weapon. The meal looked pretty unappetizing, but I was ravenous. On the other hand, I had been warned against eating any of it, hadn't I? I pulled out the chamber pot and started to piddle. While I was doing that, I tried to examine whatever the man left behind as surreptitiously as I could manage. It was some rolled up clothing with a short note wedged beneath string holding ...