I think it is because of Tina that I didn't have a nervous breakdown. For some time after my birthday, a good two or three weeks, I suffered from anxiety attacks. They always stemmed from the principal fear that Robin would one day (or night) call on me for sex. He had thus far been a perfect gentleman, but my fear factor was very high. Tina relaxed me. Tina made me laugh at my fear.
Tina was the only woman I would ever love in that way and I have not spoken to her since my return from Brunei.
But I will never forget her.
Sex, Crabs and Throwing the First Punch
As Aphrodite remembers it...
I awoke with the worst hangover in the history of Hangovery.
My little Thai maid, Kai Li, entered and began rubbing my temples. She also, thank God, had a pitcher of orange juice, spiked with Vodka. Little hair of the dog, thank you very much.
"Happy Birthday, Ms. Dorian," she said in her funny little accent. "Was good party?"
I just nodded. I looked to my side. But Tina was gone.
"Kai Li, can I ask you a question?" I said at length, as I began to feel human again.
She nodded.
"Can you tell me about the girls who live in Cottageland 2?"
"They are girls, like you. All Thai, Japanese, Korean," she said.
"They aren't very friendly," I responded.
"They do not speak well English," Kai Li explained. "Besides, they are not treated like you girls here."
"Are they treated badly?" I asked.
"No, not badly. But they – they are expected to do different things than you girls, in the Big Houses," Kai Li said, and I noticed her voice had dropped to a whisper.
"Like what?" I asked, suddenly enthralled.
"The girls in Cottage l and 2 are used for ticky-tacky."
Ticky-tacky. I had never heard the term used before. It's meaning, however, was clear.
"Ah," was all I said.
As far as I was able to infer, the American, British and Canadian girls in the Big Houses were only occasionally approached by the Royal Entourage for sex. My roommate, Tina, of course, had been approached, and she responded accordingly. I had only peripherally communicated with other girls on the subject and with great discretion, and I found the percentages to be surprisingly low. We were, for the most part, window dressing – expected to show up at the parties and look gorgeous.
And that was it.
Perhaps you will find this anticlimactic: nightly orgies in Brunei with members of the Sultanate were product of tabloid mythology. So far, the only orgy I had any personal knowledge of was the one I created for myself the night before with Tina. I do not include my night of ticky-tacky with Robin.
Kai Li and I had become friends, and so she felt comfortable in speaking to me on a wide variety of subjects.
"I do know that one of the young princes keeps three or four of the Thai girls from Cottageland 2 in the palace," she said.
"Three or four?"
"They sleep on the floors, or with him. Many of the girls who come back after their 'stay' with the young prince discover they have the Bug."
"The Bug?" I asked, fascinated.
"I think the American term is . . . .crabs."
I laughed. Crabs in Brunei. Now that's one for the textbooks. We're tested for AIDS, venereal diseases, syphilis, whatever – but not crabs.
"How old is the young prince?"
"Seventeen. Maybe eighteen," Kai Li said.
Amazing.
I would love to have spoken with one of the girls from Cottage l and 2. But something that happened a few nights later deterred me from ever establishing this kind of contact.
It was a Saturday night, a few days before Christmas, I believe.
The Cottage l and 2 girls were, as always, cordoned off (by their own choice) in one section of the Party Room. I had mentioned to Sue my discussion with Kai Li. Sue seemed lackadaisical about the whole crab issue, but was a little drunk, and decided to have some fun.
She went over to the Cottage l and 2 contingent.
I did not hear exactly what Sue said to the closest girl, a small, muscular looking Thai girl who looked about nineteen. But, suddenly, there was shouting and screaming.
The Thai girl slapped Sue as hard as she could. Sue slapped the Thai girl right back. Within seconds, they were kicking and hitting one another. The imbroglio took them into the center of the party room, where blood and spit flew freely. Prince Jefri's friends stared, thunderstruck; they made no immediate action to stop the fight.
Robin himself looked vaguely amused, but also did not interfere.
Sue reached for a champagne glass, and slammed it into the Thai girl's face; the little Thai girl screamed and scratched at Sue's face. Deep bands of red appeared on Sue's cheek. Suddenly, another Thai girl was leaping into the fray, holding Sue's hands down, while the first Thai girl started to choke Sue.
Like the Prince's friends, I was initially dumbstruck. But with the pack-like mentality of the Thai girls and their collective attack on Sue, a few girls and myself leaped forward to her rescue. It was at this point, too, that Big Roy stood up and tore the battling girls apart.
The Thai girls were quickly escorted out of the party room. Sue was taken to the infirmary and stayed there for two days; one of her ribs was cracked and she had suffered a concussion. Her face would never be the same. The wounds that the Thai girl inflicted with her long nails would cause permanent scarring. One week later, Sue was on board an airplane for home. She had made $180,000 in two months.
I never tried to make friends with the girls from Cottage l and 2. I'm afraid I bore a long-lasting resentment against them for what they had done to Sue. Throughout the remainder of my stay in Brunei, the demarcation line between the Cottagers and the American/Canadian girls was clearly drawn. The warning had been sent: leave us alone, we'll leave you alone.
On those harsh terms, the two worlds of Asian and White remained forever separate.
***
Two days after Sue left, I was summoned to tea with Robin.
Except this second tea encounter was definitely sexual in nature.
Robin was in a feisty mood, and was rough. He took me pretty hard, and afterwards, held on to me, panting like a bear.
When he recovered, he looked into my eyes.
The Prince wanted to talk about O.J. Simpson.
"Do you think he killed his wife?" the Prince began, stroking my hair gently.
"I don't know," I said candidly. "The jurors believed there was reasonable doubt. Maybe he's innocent."
"Yes, maybe so. But in your heart. What do you think?"
I thought of Kayla, her defense of the Juice.
"Again, Robin, I can't say for sure. I think, frankly, since there is no other suspect, that evidence for his guilt outweighs the evidence for his innocence."
Robin nodded thoughtfully. He then sipped his tea and then stood, buck-assed naked and looked out over the gardens. "I was thinking of inviting Mr. Simpson here. To stay, if he needs a place free of publicity."
"Can I ask you a question?" I said.
"Of course," Robin replied.
"Do you think he's guilty?"
Robin smiled and leaned back in his chair. "What is the saying, if it quacks like a duck, walks like a duck –"
"Then it is a duck," I giggled.
He nodded, but then shrugged: "In any case, he seems like a very interesting man."
I agreed.
"It would not be a very popular thing for me to do," Robin said. "The newspapers are very hard on Mr. Simpson. Still, I will give it some thought."
I sipped my tea in silence. Of course, now, some 15 years in hindsight, we all knew that O.J. was guilty as hell; he is currently serving 33 years in a Nevada prison for a crime unrelated to the murder of his poor wife, but at least safely caged.
"And how is the young woman who was injured?" The Prince asked.
He was referring to Sue. "She's okay, I guess. I haven't spoken to her since she l
eft."
"Very bad thing that happened," Robin said. "The girls in Cottageland are not well behaved. I am thinking of sending them all home."
"Why do you keep them around, anyway?" I said, knowing I was in politically incorrect territory.
The Prince looked down and smiled. "My friends – enjoy their company. They may not like the American girls, but they are very agreeable to my people."
I nodded. And understood exactly what the term "agreeable" entailed.
"Still," Robin said. "I am disappointed in what took place last week."
And then he stood up. And extended his hand to me.
"It is always a pleasure, Aphrodite. Thank you for spending time with me."
I got out of bed and said thank you. When I was dressed, and before he turned to go, he waved one of the guards over, and said to me: "This gentleman will take you back to the house. I heard you met one of my monkeys last time we had tea together."
"Yes," I said.
"The monkeys – they are aggressive, yes?"
I nodded. And then he was gone.
And I imagined O.J. Simpson here in Brunei.
***
Christmas Day.
As you might guess, it was a very un-white Christmas. The temperature is a constant hotter than hell, with a hundred percent humidity. I awoke fairly early, engaged in my daily routine of eating and working out, then came into the living room, where Patty and Tina and four other girls were lounging about.
I kissed Tina and produced a small jogging cap I had knitted for her in the past weeks. I also gave her an "ang-pow" (a Malaysian term) – a ceremonial red purse with money inside. More of a token of friendship, than anything else; on that December, Tina was already a millionaire. She kissed me back and gave me a beautiful ruby star attached to a gold chain.
That night, a tree was installed inside the party room. A real Christmas tree. It even smelled right. We sang Christmas carols and decided to take a break from Karaoke; Robin's friends seemed to have no objection – they were far more interested in learning Christmas carols.
Big Roy, as I mentioned earlier, was one of Prince Jefri's closest friends. He was a massive guy with a belly that resembled a huge medicine ball. He had a small, well-clipped beard and brilliant green eyes. At around six foot two, he was an intimidating presence.
Recently, Big Roy had begun engaging me in conversation at the parties. I learned that he was a businessman based in Hong Kong; he and Robin had gone to school there many years earlier.
When Tina mentioned that Big Roy had a "thing" for me, I again lapsed into an anxiety ridden state. Great, I thought; I don't have to worry about the Prince coming on to me, but now I have to deal with his friends.
That night - Christmas Night - I was fully aware of Big Roy's focus on me. I was sure at one point he was going to ask me to leave the party room with him to a more – private location.
But Big Roy surprised me.
Lots of things surprised me in Brunei.
We struck up a conversation, as we had done sometimes in the past. I blurted out to him what Tina had mentioned to me that afternoon. He laughed. More like a roar.
"It is true, Aphrodite. I have an attraction for you. But I would never act upon it," he said with a wide grin.
"Really?" I said, incredulous.
"No. You see, I am happily married to Kisha, my wife. We are devoted to each other. But I still find you very, very appealing, if I may emphasize again," he said. "And," he added, "you belong to my friend, Robin."
That I was referred to as a piece of ownership, a chattel, annoyed me immensely, but merely smiled.
"That's very flattering," I said, breathing normally again.
"I saw your movie, did I mention that?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
"You were very good, very sexy. But I did not like the dinosaurs. They looked very fake," he said.
I had to agree. The dinosaur effects in Dinosaur Island left much to be desired.
We continued talking, polite talk, punctuated here and there with a joke from Big Roy. Of all of Robin's friends, I ended up being most comfortable with this man, who openly expressed attraction and admiration for me, but never once crossed the line.
So, at least, this worry was quickly dismissed.
I was not feeling particularly well that night, so I excused myself and walked home. I asked one of the young guards to escort me, should I happen upon one of those aggressive monkeys in the pitch darkness. He walked me silently home, then bowed at the front door before excusing himself.
The house was silent. I knew a few girls had not made the party that night, so I decided to check out who was here.
That's when I heard the noises.
They came from one of the ground floor suites. Moans. And some cries. I thought one of the girls was sick.
I turned a corner, and glanced inside the suite closest to the garden terrace.
Inside, there were four girls. All naked. All entwined with one another. Kissing, sucking, you name it. There were no men in this little get together. Just the girls.
I wanted to excuse myself and just forget I had seen the entire thing. I recognized Dawn, my unfriendly roommate, as one of the participants. But instead ... I stared. Fascinated.
I had never been privy to a real orgy before. I categorize this as an orgy, even though it was a unisexual orgy. I stayed glued to the door for around ten minutes, watching the young women grope at one another. And a thought occurred to me:
We were like caged animals, in Brunei. Well paid animals, consensual animals, but animals nevertheless. Cut off from our loved ones, deprived of our natural sexual partners (and inclinations), where we found other alternatives for our desires. We adapted. We became ... flexible. I could not judge these women from any moral standpoint; I had become one of them, in a way, by virtue of my association with Tina – and, of course, Robin. In an alien land, I had adopted alien ways. I was not alone.
The girls were never aware of my presence. After ten minutes, I discretely edged away from the door, and walked upstairs to my room.
As I laid there in my bed, I looked up at the ceiling.
And wondered how much longer I would be able to take this weird new world.
You may well ask: with all the anxiety over the sexual issue(s), why did I not get on board the first plane home?
I have only one answer.
Money.
I had decided after my six weeks had elapsed that I would stay for as long as possible - or as long as my sanity held out. Remember, I was still on salary, $22,500 a week. I was liked by the Sultanate; Mr. Jan had told me after only a month that, notwithstanding the terms of the contract, I would be welcome to stay in Brunei for as long as I wished.
I took the offer to heart.
If I could stay for three months, even six, I would go home with hundreds of thousands of dollars. Money would no longer be a plaguing issue in my life.
Yes, I missed George. Yes, I felt horny constantly. And, yes, there was still the overriding fear factor regarding Robin – would he tire of me one day, plump or not, the way he liked his girls, would he simply ask me to leave.
But it was the money that guided my rational mind.
I would hold out for as long as I could. Each week, I said to myself: one more week. That's all. In this way, time passed.
Yes, Brunei was using me.
But I was using Brunei.
At the end of the day, we both came away satisfied.
Sailing, Tits and Nipples
The day after Christmas, Mr. Jan again arrived at my house with a special invitation to me extended from Robin. The invite was to join the Prince on his 180 foot yacht for a cruise around the bay. I was delighted with the prospect of escaping the jail-like confines of the harem and immediately accepted.
Robin's yacht was called Tits. It had six staterooms, two kitchens, a small gymnasium, four bathrooms (known as heads) and a billiards room. There was a small bar present in every room, f
ully stocked of course. There was also a small golfing green above deck on the second level, and on the most forward portion of the Tits was a helipad.
I was not the only girl to get the invite that day; Robin had invited Tina and three other girls I did not know very well from one of the other houses. The other girls were ostensibly "dates" for Robin's companions.
There were two captains on the Tits – one to actually pilot the huge ship, and the other to attend to the internal needs of passengers below deck. Both captains were Chinese and both spoke fluent English.
Robin escorted Tina and myself on the upper decks, as the boat pulled away from its huge dock. The lifeboats were aft of the wheelhouse, hanging from the starboard and port rear sections of the Tits. The lifeboats had names: Nipple One and Nipple Two.
I joked with Robin: "Any particular reason your boat was christened Tits?"
He smiled and shrugged innocently. "It was a bet I had with a friend of mine. A lawyer from the United States. He did not believe I would have the courage to name my boat thus – because of the negative press it might receive if I ever entered an American port."
"It would be taken negatively," I admitted. "You'd be labeled a sexist pig."
"Are not all American men sexist pigs?"
"In America, it's politically correct to hide one's piggishness."
Robin nodded matter of factly: "Perhaps in America. But here – the Sultan and his family are half God."
I was stunned to hear this declaration put forth with so much sincerity. Perhaps it was a subject I should have steered clear of, but I was fascinated.
Robin then took my hand and excused himself from Tina's company, and led me to his suite at the bow of the Tits. There, he gently undressed me, and had his way with me for several minutes. But he was unbelievably tender, and even allowed me a few moments of privacy after sex to get dressed.
The Last Harem Page 11
