Extreme Gay Thailand 1978 Ch. 03

They were guided to four adjoining couches, but they only used three. Cowboy made it clear that he would not smoke but also that he had a hankering for Intorn. So, while Jacques and Brad stretched out on two neighboring platforms, Cowboy laid Intorn out on his back on a third one and then laid the small Thai.

Intorn lay, gasping but willing, as he spread and raised his legs and torso and slowly was pinned to the padding by Cowboy's huge cock. This was an even better experience to boast about when he went back to Chiang Mai. The legend of Cowboy stretched that far. The brothel keepers would note that Intorn had been laid by Cowboy when they were selling the young Thai to clients. It wasn't just a mark of celebrity by association; it also was a declaration that Intorn could take any cock a client in northern Thailand could challenge him with. Intorn dangled his arms over the side of the narrow couch, turned his glazed eyes to the side, and panted and whimpered as Cowboy slowly entered, entered, entered him and, then picking up speed, took him to heaven.

In the meantime, Jacques and Brad smoked hashish from bubbling pipes and started on their own journeys to heaven, switching after a while, at Jacques's request, to opium. After Cowboy had fucked Intorn, who was led away by two burly sailors from the docks, not to be seen again that day, Cowboy sat for a while on the side of his couch and watched Jacques move over onto Brad's couch and between the young American's spread thighs, where he fucked Brad in a deep missionary and Brad received him with pleasure and glazed-over eyes.

The house master came by with a young, small, and particularly good-looking Cambodian and a Chinese sailor nearly as big as Cowboy and twice as ugly and thuggish looking and had little difficulty convincing Cowboy to go with them to a more private area set up as a video recording studio, where, for quite a nice price, Cowboy joined the Chinese sailor in ravishing the Cambodian youth in a total-taking double penetration for a subscription movie.

While Cowboy was gone, Jacques finished with Brad and barely made it back to his own couch, where he passed out. A gaggle of rough sailors who had been circling and watching and biding their time then descended on Brad and shared him for more than an hour. Brad, who did like orgies, might have appreciated that if the hashish and opium haze he'd been put in had allowed him to remember how and by how many he had been covered. As it was, the next day, when his head stopped pounding, he would think upon his evening of slumming on the Bangkok docks as a success. He'd been breeded so many times that, if he'd been a woman, nine months hence he'd be giving birth to octuplets of at least six different nationalities and a variety of colors.

Cowboy was sober enough, and the house master concerned that he not overstep himself enough, and Cowboy's driver was disciplined enough to be able to retain his chauffeuring abilities, that, between them, they managed to get a humming Jacques and purring Brad back into the car and Jacques deposited in his hotel and Brad delivered back to his father's house. They forgot all about Intorn, but he reappeared at Vince Burnett's Ambassador Hotel room two days later, humming and extremely well fucked.

* * * *

It wasn't an accident that The Major and the UN officer, Magnus Amundson, took The Deer Hunter actor Paul Cummings in one car when they left the Blackmore compound to go to the swim party at the JUSMAG single officer's compound off Sathorn Road and that JUSMAG lieutenant Ben Singleton and Thai Air Force colonel Samui Timruang took American embassy cultural officer, Tim Temple, in another car. The group had been playing a beer game on the terrace of the Blackmore house. They'd been playing for high stakes, and Cummings had been won by The Major and Amundson in one round and Temple by Singleton and Samui in another round.

The actor and embassy officer, well into their cups, had both acknowledged that they were capable of and had given over to a certain sexual act and had laid their willingness on the line--and had lost to commanding military men who recognized the need to step up to high stakes in a game--and also who insisted on collecting on debts.

The two JUSMAG cars drove out to the corner of Ploenchit and Wireless Roads, turning onto Wireless at the British Embassy grounds, drove past the American Embassy, and onto Sathorn, where the JUSMAG officer compound was on the left and the bachelor officers' quarters compound, taken over by the gay officers who fought for a billet at JUSMAG, was on the right, past Christ Church. The compound consisted of four former houses, with stuccoed walls and red-tiled roofs and offering a dozen bedrooms, with baths, and assorted living and kitchen facilities, all around a large swimming pool. The walls of the compound were high enough to keep the noise in and the nosy out, and all the protection the compound needed was the burly body-beautiful hunks who served at JUSMAG.

The party was already under way when the two cars arrived. Indeed, a party was always under way at the JUSMAG BOQ swimming pool when it wasn't raining. Luckily for the neighborhood, it did rain in Bangkok every day at 4:00 p.m., though--torrential rain. Half a dozen JUSMAG gay soldiers were already cavorting around the pool. They'd brought in gay boys and transvestites from the nearby Patpong red-light district, and they were dancing and swimming and drinking and fucking--two Thai prostitutes to every JUSMAG soldier. The U.S. soldiers were in great demand in Bangkok. They uniformly were built, well financed, and ready and willing to go.

The Major and his guests melded right into the party when they arrived. They took care of the bets they had won right off the bat--and right there by the pool on the lounge beds. The Major and Magnus Amundsen put the actor Paul Cummings between them and stripped him down and sexed him up with their hands before Amundsen went down on a lounge bed on his back, Paul Cummings was stretched out on top of him, facing the heavens, Amundsen worked his cock into Cummings's ass channel, and they fucked for several minutes before The Major straddled the lounge bed over the other two, raised and spread Cummings's legs, and worked his cock inside Cummings's channel on top of Amundsen's already-buried shaft. As they fucked the actor in a groaning double penetration, JUSMAG lieutenant Ben Singleton and Thai colonel Samui Timruang were giving Tim Temple the same treatment on another lounge bed.

Drugs came out to add to the drinks while this double fucking was going on and Cummings and Temple were treated to their full share of fuck aids. Other men at the party gathered around the two lounge beds and cheered the performance on while embracing and fondling the Thai rent-boys they had been diddling. Occasionally, pairs of soldiers would take a small Thai figure off to another lounge bed to emulate what was happening with Cummings and Temple. By the time Cumming's and Temple's doubles partners were done with them, they were zonked out enough that they didn't care that they were passed around to the other tops at the pool late into the night.

It was hedonist Bangkok, randy soldiers, and willing (at least when they were well lubricated) lays. A good time was had by all. Bangkok gay life five years before the scourge of AIDS descended. Rubbers were for sex with women, not with other guys. And if one cock was good, two were better. Buckets of cum all around.

* * * *

When the once-popular actor in The Deer Hunter, Vince Burnett, left the party at Burt Blackmore's Thai-style house, he was in the company of the writer and producer, Deric Washburn, and the lesser-part actor Gary Jones, who, like Burnett, was staying at the Ambassador Hotel off Sukhumvit Road. He had come with Intorn, the Chiang Mai University drama student Burnett had picked up in Chiang Mai and brought back to Bangkok with him for the sport of bedding him, but Burnett was pissed at the young Thai and happy to leave him to find his own way back to where they were staying at the Ambassador Hotel--or not. Burnett would be leaving in a couple of days, needing, for reasons of his own, to disappear, and he wouldn't be taking Intorn with him.

Burnett was pissed at Intorn because earlier during the Blackmore party, when he'd gone looking for the young man, he'd found him in a back corridor of the mansion being fucked against a wall by another, younger than Burnett, actor in the movie, Joe D'Amato. That had wounded Burnett's pride, because Intorn had assured him he was a slave to Burnett's, and only Burnett's, shaft.

It did, though, make it easier for Burnett to leave the young man in Thailand when he slipped out of the country--if he could pull together enough money to carry through his disappearing act.

Washburn wanted to have a discussion separately with Burnett to pass on what he thought would be bad news. So, when they got to the Ambassador Hotel, Washburn and Burnett saw Jones off to his room and retired to the Lobby Lounge Bar for yet another drink and a consultation.

"You know I liked your work in the movie," Washburn said.

"Thanks," Burnett said guardedly. He suspected what this was about. He'd heard rumors and Joe D'Amato had been gloating around him a bit for a week. It wasn't an accident, Burnett didn't think, that D'Amato had latched on to the young man Burnett had brought to the party.

"And I know you were hoping that getting a part in the movie would help bolster your career."

"Not really," Burnett said. "My agent said I would help sell the movie." He wasn't going to go down without any push back. He was a box office draw when Washburn was an errand boy at the studio.

Washburn bridled a bit at that, although he tried to keep it internalized. He'd tried to tell casting that Burnett was over the hill and too old for the part. It was because the director thought he was too old for the part on film that Washburn had been left to clean this up, even though he'd been right about it from the beginning. He would try to let the actor down without telling Burnett precisely why, though. If he had to say it was because Burnett had aged out of his roles, he'd never get the washed-out actor off his case. "You know how the movie business works, Vince, so I won't sugarcoat it. The director made some changes to the plotline and your character just doesn't fit in it anymore. Your scenes have been cut. I'm sorry. I thought you were terrific in the scenes but the scenes just don't fit in the movie the director is making anymore. I've been asked to change your contract."

Burnett wasn't a dummy. He knew that, after Washburn had said he wasn't going to sugarcoat what he had to say, he'd done just that. D'Amato had been calling Burnett "Old Man" for nearly a week. Burnett had known when he read the script that he was too old for the part. His idea was to change the part to fit him, but they had resisted doing that.

"Change the contract how, Deric?"

"We want to buy it out. Go ahead and pay out the agreed sum and the residuals the contract specifies as well. We don't expect the movie to make that much money. The figure the studio gave me for a buyout was $20,000. It could be paid into your bank--"

"If you make that in cash, U.S. dollars, handed to me here in Bangkok in the next two days, I'll go quietly," Burnett interrupted him to say. "Otherwise, my agent will want to negotiate the price up. He's told me that The Deer Hunter is going to be promoted as an A movie--maybe even an Academy Award contender."

Washburn was momentarily nonplused. He'd expected whining and finagling. He hadn't expected cash on the barrelhead, delivered right away in Bangkok. But acceptance of the figure was too good an opportunity not to grab.

"I'm grateful we can settle this so quickly and amicably, Vince. It will be difficult for me to arrange, of course, but I'll see what I can do and get back to you by tomorrow." He held off his grin until he was facing away from Burnett and walking out of the bar.

If he'd turned his head, he would have seen Burnett grinning at his departing back. Burnett of course would have liked to have more money, but it would be difficult and dangerous to be carrying that much cash on him into the Genting Highlands of Malaysia, where he hoped to disappear and change his name and life. He'd gotten the news that the drug distribution arrangement he'd been a party to in L.A. was being busted and that users had died on adulterated drugs. It would be mere days before the authorities in California would be coming after him here in Thailand. He had some assets he was able to liquify but not enough. He'd been worried whether he could get anything out of The Deer Hunter gig before he took off.

Deric Washburn's "bad" news had dropped in his lap like mana from heaven.

Three elements fell into place two days later: Deric Washburn visited him with $20,000 in large-denomination U.S. bills. The wad was small enough for Burnett to fit in a pouch he'd bought that could snuggle up under his balls. His biggest concern was keeping that much cash, added to the $10,000 he already had accumulated close to him while keeping its existence a secret. The second element that fell into place was that Intorn returned to him, with a story of woe of having been carried off from an opium den on the Khlong Toei docks by some rough sailors who had repeatedly gang banged him and only now having gotten away from them. "You can ask Cowboy or Brad Blackmore about that, if you don't believe me," he'd said. "They were the ones who took me to the opium den."

"I believe you," Burnett said, doing so because Intorn's return and what he had suggested when Burnett said he was about to leave Bangkok fit in nicely with Burnett's plans.

"If you want to see more of Thailand before you leave," Intorn had said. "We could go to Phuket Beach, a resort for Farangs--foreigners--in the South, on the western leg of Thailand and opening on to the Andaman Sea. We could do the beach thing. It's very different from Bangkok or Chiang Mai. Very remote. Very lush and nice."

Burnett had looked at a map and smiled. Yes, it was remote from Bangkok, where the U.S. authorities would start looking for him. Better than that, it was nearly all the way to Malaysia. From there he could slip over the border to Malaysia as he was arranging on the black market to do. Best of all, Intorn was here now and could make all of the arrangements in his name. Nothing would be connected to Burnett--especially if Intorn had an unfortunate accident while they were in Phuket.

He enthusiastically agreed to Intorn's travel proposal.

Burnett of course didn't reveal to Intorn that he was carrying around $30,000 in a pouch under his balls. From then, he fucked the young Thai in the dark, in doggy fucks, where he could keep the pouch out of the action, but he avoided the blow jobs that Intorn had been giving him previously. Intorn said nothing about that, and Burnett was relieved that the young man didn't bring the change in their sex pattern up. Perhaps he should have not been so relieved, though. Intorn didn't ask because he'd figured it out, although he only thought it was $20,000 that the older actor was trying to hide.

Intorn hadn't come right back from his captivity and being passed around by the rough sailors. He'd been freed earlier that day and had gone back to the opium den, where Joe D'Amato had returned for another round of rough, drug-induced pleasure. There, D'Amato had passed on the rumor that Burnett had been released from his contract in exchange for a large amount of American-dollar cash. He even knew how much money was involved in the release. There obviously were very few secrets on what remained of the production crew on The Deer Hunter set that was being broken down.

After leaving the Khlong Toei opium den, Intorn had made some arrangements of his own before returning to Vince Burnett at the Ambassador Hotel. Until he had learned Burnett had a big stash of cash Intorn hadn't even been thinking of returning to him. Once back in the hotel room, it didn't take Intorn much brain power or observation to figure where the cash was. He could bide his time, though, and develop better arrangements than a robbery in a major Bangkok hotel.

Phuket did, indeed, prove to be a paradise of a beach resort, although Burnett didn't have much interest in stripping down to bathing suits and hitting the beach. He did, though, have an interest in the bright-colored fishing boats that floated off the beach, with crews offering sailing afternoons to remote islands off the beach.

"Can you arrange for one of those boats to take us on a day cruise, maybe down toward Malaysia?" Burnett asked Intorn. He wasn't planning to go all the way down there on the first day sail, but he could check out the possibility and sound the crew out on whether they'd take him down to the Malaysia coast, how much it would be, and maybe whether they could do something about Intorn as well.

"I'd be delighted to," Intorn said, and he immediately went off down the beach, looking for a boat--a specific boat.

The crew that took them out looked rather rough, but Intorn said that all of the sailors in this business off Phuket had to be strong and able. "There are pirates in these waters," he said. "Tourists have to be protected from them."

Half way toward an island the crew chief, a burly, tattooed hunk, in skimpy shorts, pointed out as their destination, the boat was brought to anchor.

"Thanat tong kan wainam," Mongkut, the captain, said, as he stripped off his shorts, revealing a respectable-sized, half-hard cock. He proceeded to dive into the water.

"He said it would be safe for us to swim here," Intorn translated. "And he said we could have a beer before we go to the island." He too stripped off his Speedo and dove, naked, into the water. Another of the crew members, named Prasert, handed Burnett a beer and motioned to the water, with a smile. Burnett took the beer and motioned his thanks back but indicated he was going to remain dressed and wouldn't go into the water. The crew, all drinking beer now, didn't seem to mind.

After a bit, Mongkut and Intorn swam back and hauled themselves up onto the boat. They stood there, dripping, both naked, and kissed, while Mongkut frotted their cocks together. The crew members, gathered around Burnett near the wheelhouse, laughed and whistled and made crude gestures, jollying Burnett along with them. Mongkut laid Intorn on his back at the bow on a thick coil of rope, grabbed the young man's ankles, raised and spread his legs, penetrated him, and began to fuck him.

Burnett watched, fascinated, not aware of the danger until the crew, gulping their beer, moving around restlessly, and cheering Mongkut on, began to get rough with Burnett. They didn't make sexual advances to him--they started to tear his clothes off him and to beat him, looking for, finding, and relieving Burnett of his money pouch.

Burnett was a mangled, moaning mass, lying on the deck by the wheel house, when Mongkut was finished fucking Intorn, pulled off him, and took the money pouch from Prasert. Prasert and the others then moved in on Intorn and took their turns fucking him in the bow of the boat.

Mongkut and another of the Andaman Sea pirates who Intorn first had met up with in the opium house in Khlong Toei where Cowboy had sized up the clientele and warned them that pirates might be present, picked Burnett up and rolled his body into the sea. Intorn had gone with the pirates and serviced them willingly, and then when he'd gotten wind of the cash Burnett would be carrying, he'd gone back to the pirates and worked up this plan with them to divest Burnett of his money in a quiet, out-of-the-way place.