Molds and Blindfolds

I went on a blind date with a girl named Yi Yang. It was set up by my boxing coach here in Shenzhen, China. “She is very creative, just like you,” he said, “I think you guys will hit it off.”

We planned to meet at a Jazz bar, but just before I left home, she sent me a text message along with a location pin: “Can we meet at my studio? Sorry, I’m in the middle of something,” she wrote. I got in a cab and showed the map to the driver. After 30 minutes, I arrived at the location.

It was a building completely made of glass, and surrounded by lush green vegetation. There was a bookshop on the ground floor. The neon lights turned on, and read: “BOOKILICIOUS.” A girl on the second floor snuck her head out the window and waved. Interesting, I thought and waved back. My blind date’s name was Yi Yang, so I assumed she was Chinese, but the girl in the window wasn’t.

“Take the stairs next to the coffee shop,” she said, and then disappeared. What coffee shop? I wondered and entered BOOKILICIOUS. It was filled with all sorts of Chinese books, and the smell of coffee. I spotted the wooden spiral staircase at the back corner of the shop. When I got closer to the coffee bar, an old lady emerged from behind the stairs, signaled to the ceiling with her eyes, and passed me a bottle of red wine with two glasses. I grabbed them and walked up the stairs.

“Hi,” my date said, kissed me on both of my cheeks, and extended her hands in front of me, which were covered in silicone. “My work is messy,” she smiled. She wore a short leopard print apron, but when she turned around I saw she wore black panties and nothing else. WTF! Now don’t get me wrong, I love kinky stuff, but that was our first date. “What are you working on?” I looked around and saw molds of human body parts. “Something exciting,” she giggled, “why don’t you pour us some wine while I clean up,” she said and wiped the back of her hands on her apron.

I placed the bottle of wine and the glasses on a long wooden table. “Do you have an opener?” I asked. “It’s in the drawer,” she said. “the third one.” I scanned the lower section of the table and saw nine drawers. Which one? I assumed it would be one of the corner ones. I opened the first one on the right side, it was filled with molds of ears. I closed it and opened the one on the bottom, it was filled with molds of penises. WTF, I slammed it shut. “I see you found my junk,” she rubbed her hands together and some of the dry silicone fell off, “those are rejected samples,” she lifted her leg, clasped the knob of the drawer with her toes, and pulled it open, “here you go,” she pointed at the brass wine opener. “Woah,” my eyes widened. “I was a ballerina when I was little,” she said, “you know I’m half Russian.” That’s where the look comes from, I nodded.

I uncorked the wine bottle. “You know what?” she said, “help me clean up before you pour the wine.” She looked down the stairs and shouted something in Chinese, then looked at me, “can you go get the baking soda from my granny?” I went downstairs, grabbed the bag, and brought it back to Yi Yang. She placed her hands together under the sink. I poured the powder over her hands. She scrubbed and most of it came off. She rinsed her hands with hot water, dried them with her apron, and pointed at the glasses, which were half filled with wine and were spotless. How the hell did she do that while I was gone? “Let’s drink,” she passed me a glass and took the other one. We clinked. She walked up to her record player and put on a vinyl.

“I love Nina Simone,” I said. “Well, seeing we didn’t get to go to a proper Jazz bar,” she laughed. “This is better,” I said. “Great,” she said, and grabbed my hand, “let me show you around.”

We explored her studio, her latest silicone-made creatures for an upcoming Chinese sci-fi movie, and drank more wine. When we finished the bottle, we went downstairs to get a new one, and I noticed that her granny was gone. BOOKILICIOUS neon lights were turned off.

She came closer and felt my ears. “They are perfect,” she said. I touched my ears and raised my eyebrows, “they are just normal,” I said. “No, they are perfect for my new invention,” she touched my ears again, and I liked the sensation of the dry silicone on her fingers. “I tell you what,” she came extremely close to me, which aroused me, “let me make a mold of them,” she said. “I don’t know about that,” I said. “I promise it’ll be fun,” she leaned in. I kissed her.

“Let’s go,” she grabbed my hand, and we ran up the stairs. She dimmed the lights and cranked up the music. “Where do I sit?” I asked, but she didn’t respond. Maybe she didn't hear me, I thought. She uncorked the new bottle of wine and refilled our glasses. “Oh my God,” she said. “What?” I looked at her. “I can’t believe I never changed into proper clothes,” she took off her apron and threw it on the floor. Wow! my eyes widened. Her studio was dark but I saw everything. “Come here,” I said. “Let’s not rush it,” she said and put on a blush tank top. I walked up to her, pulled her into my arms, and kissed her. “You are so irresistible,” my heart beat fast. She pushed me and I fell onto the chair behind me. She jumped and sat on top of me. My heart beat faster and my pecker got harder. This is not normal, I thought. Not the making out part on a first date. It was the intensity of my heartbeat and the strength of my hard-on that concerned me.

“Can I get some water?” I said. “Don’t be a wuss,” she said, pulled the drawer behind me, and grabbed something that clanked. She shoved my hands to the handles of the chair and handcuffed me. “What the fuck!” I pulled my hands. “Trust me, you’re gonna love this,” she leaned in and kissed me. I couldn’t think because I was so hard. She pulled my pants down and examined my pecker as if she was a urologist. “I was waiting for this all night,” she said. “I really need some water,” I said. She walked away for a few seconds, came back, and plastered something on my pecker. “Woah woah woah,” I shouted, “what the fuck are you doing?” I stood up but my handcuffs pulled up the chair with me. “I need a mold,” she said. “Mold of my penis?” I yelled. “Yes,” she said, “I’m making a sex doll.”

“Hell no,” I said.

“It’ll be done soon,” she said, “and I’ll make it worth your while,” she held my face in her hands and kissed me.

“You’re wasting your time,” I said, “I’m gonna lose my erection anytime now.” I sat back down on the chair.

“No, you won’t.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Do you remember when you went downstairs to get the baking soda?”

“What about it?”

“I slipped a few viagra pills in your wine,” she held my hands and kissed me on my lips.