Pimped in Bangkok

* * * *

He's already exhausted me, but he wants to make his point--that he owns me. He rolls off me, adjusts the bolster under the small of my back that has my pelvis raised and rolled up, in position for a straight shot. My hole is dilated, yawning, pulsing, already reamed to his need. He's insatiable. He's already been inside me, thick, hard, strong, again and again. This is going on forever--gloriously forever.

Rough hands glide down my inner thighs, and I open them to him. He spreads my legs, bends them, and places my feet flat on the mattress, ready for the next assault. "Assault" is the right word for it. He took me nearly directly from his car to his bed, with only a cursory tour of the compound, passing muscled-up soldiers in various stages of undressed who gave me the eye and a little laugh, knowing what the fate of the new "chicken" was to be, and he herded me into his bedroom, onto his bed, and overpowered and ravished me. My cries of taking went unheeded other than an occasional head popping into the doorway to check out the new talent and to appreciate Mike's technique. He didn't ask me if I wanted it. He knew I did. He just brought me here and did it. It was an assault. I discovered that I melted to an assault by a big, black bull.

I leave my legs there, as he has placed them, exposing my nakedness, my yawning hole, to him. He rearranges my arms, stretched out in a surrendered, sacrificial, fully spread open and vulnerable pose. Panting, and looking worshipful at him, I leave them there. I am fully open to his need, his desires. I understand that he wants to know that I've been conquered--that I am fully open and vulnerable to him--that he owns me.

I know he's going to fuck me--assault me--again--and again after that. If he wants to. I am in anguish, wanting him to want to, wanting him to take it all from me.

He stands below me, at the foot of his bed, looking down at me, smiling, surveying the mastering he's already done, the assertion of his command and victory over me. His hand goes to my entrance, a finger penetrating me.

"You want it again," he says.

"Yes," I answer, not pretending that I don't. I rock on the finger, acknowledging his newly established rights.

Do it. Do your worst. Claim your territory and master it again--forever.

He climbs back onto the bed, on top of me--a mass of bulging dark-chocolate muscle, magnificent cock fully erect again, throbbing. Shit, the man could recover quickly.

This time he takes his time.

Heart racing, moaning, shimmering with anticipation, as dark chocolate, beefy-fingered hands glide over resilient, young flesh. Trembling as they search for and explore curves and crevices, pausing at heaving pecs en route to the root of me.

Fuck me. Fuck me now.

Groaning as rough-padded fingers rub, and twitch, and pinch tender nipples. Arching my chest up from bed before the hovering milk chocolate monolith, rising to the inevitable. He's going to fully explore my body this time.

Fuck me. Fuck me now.

Crying out as full lips find nipples and mouth opens around aureoles, closes tight, and gives suck. Melting at teeth sliding across engorged nipples. Opening mouth to gasp at the hint of a bite on a nipple, only to have heavy lips crush mine and thick tongue push in. Opening eyes to his, very close now, filled with desire, determination, insistence. His hand gliding lower, moving toward the goal.

The man isn't just a big cock. Fuck me. Fuck me now.

I ease back on the bed, willing the tension to flow out of me, to relax my passage to be able to take him in one long, possessing slide, as he rises up below me. Breathless as I watch giant hands gliding across my body, slowly working their way to my center. Dark chocolate hands on soft, creamy belly and thighs, nudging. Mesmerized, I open my legs wider to him, raising them, pushing my pelvis up to him. Purring as hands glide around silky inner thighs.

Come into me. Fuck me now.

The hulking soldier sinks between opened, welcoming legs, grinning face dipping out of sight. Arching back and gasping again, as thick tongue rims, flicks in, and then invades. I gasp and moan. Grasping close-cropped kinky black hair, my immediate impulse to push away, quickly replaced with desire to hold his mouth in closer. Twitching to the dancing of the tongue. Big, thick finger snaking in, thicker than some men's cocks, exploring, searching. Agony in the brief seconds found to center. Writhing as it finds the spot, tweaks, rubs, and quickens the flow. Panting, moaning. Can't... get... breath. Electricity, sparks, release and flow. Low, hoarse laughter from between trembling legs.

Mooaaan.

Muscle-bound dark chocolate Army officer, with his jet-black monster cock and plump balls, standing between spread legs, his massive chest and arm muscles bulging and undulating, glistening in the strobing of light through the languidly moving blades of the overhead fan. A big grin on his square-cut face, capturing and placing my hands so I feel the awesome length and thickness--and the bulbous, purple-black cap and popped-out blue-on-black veins--of his hardened cock. Ten inches long hard, two inches thick. I've never had it this big before him. Fearful fingers getting the measure of the beast, all the more imposing in its blackness against his otherwise dark chocolate flesh, while he tells me quite clearly and graphically--and breathtakingly--what he is going to do with all that manhood and how much pleasure he is going to get out of me and expects me to get out of his cock--to the point of making me tremble in anticipation and having the added pleasure that, out of all those he could pick to fuck this day, he is here with me.

"You put it in this time," he commands. I do, lodging the purple cap just inside my entrance.

Going up on my elbows, my legs splayed up and out, my ankles held in his big hands, and watching him first rotate that purple-black cap around and just inside the rim, entirely with the control he has over his hips and his hardened cock--no help with his hands. And then slowly, almost magically, making the pillar of power and strengthen follow its bulbous head and disappear inside me, me arching my back, trying to stretch to accommodate him and involuntarily giving him deep moans and groans of being stuffed. He stops half in, to listening to me panting and moaning and to give me time to stretch, and then, with a grin and a "Here it comes," he buries the shaft several more inches, and I jerk and gasp and scream. My eye bug out, my mouth slacks open in surrender.

He pulls it back and then thrusts it deep. I yelp.

No, no; yes, yes, y-e-s. It's too big; it's the size I've always dreamed of. It's splitting me; it's stretching and filling me to perfection. I can't take this; I can't get enough of this.

"Yesssssss! Do it. Sink to the root. Fuck me!" I cry out.

He sinks to the root and starts to move in and out, in and out. Huffing and gasping, I put my hips into motion, going with him. We're FUCKING! We're fucking AGAIN! He wants me again. I am his and he is mine.

Cheek to sheets, I'm looking at the door out to the corridor now, where soldiers have gathered in the doorway to watch the master at work. All fit and muscular, gods of man flesh. All with their dongs out and sneery little smiles on their faces, working themselves and watching Mike at work, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting, as I dig my fingernails into his shoulder blades, slit my eyes, arch my back, my pelvis in countermotion, and convey through my thoughts: Its me. It's me he's fucking. Not you.

Bringing his mouth down to my nipples as he plows me, sucking and biting me there. My imagining I can feel the veins sliding against my passage walls as the cock journeys in to the quick of me. Even that other time, he was quicker than this, not fucking me as deep as this.

No man has been there before, not this deep, not in my spongy core. And then he's standing up from me and repeatedly pulling his glistening jet-black cock out slowly to where I can again see the rim of the purple-black cap, and glides it back in to the root until he loses control and starts pumping me wildly. Showing that he is panting for me--at the height of his passion, dipping his mouth to mine and brutalizing my lips with his. His hands grabbing my hips, moving my pelvis with his thrusts. He cries out. Again the flood inside me, oozing out of me, bathing those black balls.

Catcalls and applause from the doorway. Most of the soldiers there pull away and move on. Two stay, fondling each other, to savor.

All of that throbbing inside me, hard for me, wanting to be inside me, and filling me repeatedly--followed by my insides being creamed yet again with his cum and him holding for a few minutes, young, virile, powerful, quick loading. Lying there, watching him go into his bathroom, pissing with the door open, his eyes on me lying there, stretched out on the bed, arm dangling off the side, a position of total surrender. Watching him, and purring.

The two guys in the doorway, frotting each other, shoot their loads, and disappear.

He's still erect, standing at the toilet, shaking out the last drops. Incredibly virile. My dark chocolate black bull with the jet-black monster cock. My 10/2.

He struts out of the bathroom, mounts the bed, grasps and positions me, mounts me again, and then does it all again. And I'm able to take it, each time more slippery than the last because of the accumulation and mingling of juices. He turns me on his cock until he is close in behind me, capable of going even deeper inside me, and then fucks me again, holding my wrists with his hands, dominating me, killing me, another glorious death.

Shit, the man can fuck forever. Is this what black bulls can do? Mooaaan.

He shoots off every fifteen minutes or so for what seems like forever--I climax repeatedly as well, encasing that jet-black hunk of power and being encased by that dark chocolate rippling network of perfect muscle.

FUCK ME HARD!! FUCK ME DEEP!! FUCK ME FOREVER!!

Roll me over... in the clover. Roll me over and fuck me again.

I am his for wherever, whenever, with whomever he wants.

So, is this how pimps keep their prostitutes in line, I wonder. It would work with me. Maybe it will work with me. Mike's talked about having several Thai officers to keep happy with the military business his unit has to do here.

* * * *

Early on Sunday afternoon he let me out of his bedroom in the JUSMAG compound and walked me, supporting me, to the swimming pool in the middle of the compound. There, he laid me on a lounge bed, taking a cushion from a nearby patio chair and placing it under the small of my back, to raise my pelvis and roll my hips up. Exhausted, cowed, and satiated, I let him lead me, looking longingly at him with my eyes.

The major lifted my legs, one after the other, bended and spread them, and placed my feet gripping the bottom edge of the lounge bed. He motioned for the other men at the pool, JUSMAG sergeants and officers sunning themselves on the lounge bed or swimming and playing in the pool to take their pleasure as they wished. One after the other, they left what they were doing, came to me, positioned themselves between my spread legs, crouched over me, fists planted in the cushion on either side of my chest, and penetrated and fucked me. Major LeBeau sat there next to me, hand on my shoulder, whispering what a good boy I was. When all of the men who wanted to fuck me had done so and returned to what they'd been doing before, the major picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, took me back into his bedroom, and fucked the shit out of me.

Sunday evening he had a tuk tuk, a three-wheeled Thai bicycle taxi, summoned to return me to my small apartment on Sukumvit Road, near the international school. As he helped me into the tuk tuk, groaning and sore but somehow exhilarated, he said, "The men at the swimming pool--"

"Whatever you want," I said, cutting him off. Why did he have this need again for assurances that he owned me? I would do anything he wanted me to do to show him that he did.

Smiling, the last thing he then said to me was, "We have a dinner party to go to next Saturday night. Doctor Blackmore is a British surgeon here, but more important than that for us is that he owns a prominent Bangkok English-language paper, or his Thai wife does. She's in the States on a shopping spree, and the doctor is lonely. He has a variety of tastes. We can always use good press."

"Whatever you want," I repeated.

* * * *

Doctor Burt Blackmore lived in a sprawling Thai-style home next to the Jim Thompson house on Soi Kasam San 2 on the banks of the Saensap Khlong. The polished teak house consisting of a series of pavilions and wooden terraces being floated on platforms a story off the ground to allow for the frequent flooding from the adjacent canal, or khlong, one of many that laced their way through Bangkok and made the city the Venice of the East, to flow harmlessly under the residence. The major and I arrived there as dark was settling in. We were first taken to a bedroom by a Thai male servant bare-chested and wearing a colorful sarong skirt. We were asked to dress the same and soon were so outfitted and taken to the dining pavilion, which was swathed in silk draperies, with piles of silk pillows set near a low-hanging teak table. We could tell that we would be sitting on the pillows. The doctor would be entertaining us in traditional Thai style, and this setting was perfect for that. The pavilion was lit by candles set on the table and around the room. Soft lute music played in the background.

Blackmore, big and heavy, glowering, and thuggishly, but attractingly ugly and in his early forties, was sitting on the bank of pillows at the low teak table. He too was wearing only a silk sarong skirt, revealing a thick, hirsute, but muscular chest. He was smoking a water pipe. With a sweep of his hand he invited me to come settle beside him and Major LeBeau to sit off to the side, at a separate small table. The table was set for a Thai dinner, but the centerpiece, within reach of Blackmore, surprised me and made me shiver. It was a very thick green jade phallus, with natural black jade veining running through it, providing raised ridges on the surface of the dildo. Next to it was a bowl of scented oil. I could smell the musky scent from where I was seated, close beside the surgeon, with the water pipe between us.

It wasn't mentioned that I was to be the doctor's boy toy during the evening. This obviously had been worked out beforehand with my pimp, the JUSMAG major. My job obviously was to give the doctor a good time.

With a smile and an murmured, "Enjoy," he offered a tube running from the water pipe to me, the one given to me wider than the one Blackmore was using. I hadn't taken too many drags off the water pipe before the drug began to affect me, putting me into a haze. I had never done this before. Blackmore obviously had and had grown an immunity to its effects, although it was clear that he wasn't taking in as much of the drugged smoke as I was.

What happened next, before the dinner, I'd done before. He worked me with his hands and his lips, parted the sarong from around my hips to expose my buttocks, maneuvered me into position, and mounted and fucked me. I didn't resist, not only because the major was sitting there, watching us, wanting me to cooperate and give myself to the man, but also because I was drugged and continually looking, with concern, at the jade phallus, wondering when it would be used--wondering if its dimensions rivaled the major's natural ones, and suspecting they did. Blackmore didn't use the dildo before dinner, though. He did establish, though, that I would give him what he wanted.

Speaking softly to me and urging the waterpipe on me, he used his hands to warm me up. With the major's help, I'd put together answers to my life's activities that didn't expose my ISB work in Bangkok but that were still true. He was a surgeon. His hands were smooth and sensitive, and he worked me expertly. He also knew how and when and where to kiss me, spending time with my lips, my navel--and, eventually, my cock and passage entrance, as he heated me and broke any possible resistance down. There wasn't any question that I was going to let him fuck me, but there was the possibility, at least in his mind, that I might try to resist how he wanted to fuck me.

I was on my back on the pillows, with him hovering over me, one arm encircling my waist, and tipping my hips up, when he used the other hand to untie, open, and flare my sarong, pull his erection out of the folds of his own sarong, and coax my legs open. He moved between my legs and I arched my back and stretched my arms over my head, moaning, as he entered me and fucked me in long, deep slides. I lay relaxed and comfortable in his arms, rocking with him in my drugged state, enjoying the fuck from a masterful, if ugly, man. He was neither appreciably long or thick, but he knew how to caress passage walls and make me feel his release of cum. I sighed for him, and it wasn't an act.

The major sat off to the side, exposing his erection through the folds of his sarong, and slowly masturbating to the sight and sound of Blackmore fucking me. At length I saw Blackmore gesturing to the major to come over and he did, kneeling beside us, whispering encouragements to me and running his hands over my chest, worrying my nipple, as Blackmore clutched my hips below and pumped me. I sense by his jerky motions, deep thrusts, and heavy panting that Blackmore was about to come. The major pushed a thumb in my mouth and I sucked on that as I clutched the other man's buttocks to me and rocked against his thrusts, my pelvis rolling in waves. It was all in slow motion, as I was under the influence of the drug in the waterpipe.

In my dreamy state I had no defense against enjoying this fuck, giving no thought to how heavy and ugly and old the man was who was on top of me. He had a cock and knew what to do with it. Completely unable to control myself and my response to having a man expertly using his shaft inside me, I weakly called out, "Yes, yes. Fuck me. Give it to me. Come inside me."

Blackmore laughed and gave it to me. He tensed and jerked and came. I held him tightly to me, palming his buttocks and verbalizing my surrender with a long, "Ahhhhh." He was a gusher, bathing my insides with cum, breeding me. After holding for a minute inside me, with after-ejaculation small spurts of cum, Blackmore rolled off me. He moved around to my head while, at his gesture, the major moved to below me, ran an arm around my back, flipped me over, brought me up to my knees, and brushed his sarong open to expose his erection. Blackmore settled my head in his lap, presenting his cock for cleaning and further such, as the major swung a leg over my rump, mounted me, thrust inside, and fucked me. He was longer and thicker than Blackmore by far so there was further stretching of my passage going on. I only appreciated later that this was by design.

If this had been all that happened with Blackmore, I would have been happy to come back to him again in the future. It wasn't all that Blackmore did to me.

After a rest, dinner was served, with me partaking completely naked now and Blackmore still in his sarong. Dinner went without incident, with Blackmore alternating eating with fondling me and pressing the waterpipe on me at one table and the major eating at the other. Throughout the meal I eyed the green jade phallus.

When the dinner dishes were taken away by young male Thai servants in sarongs, Blackmore clapped his hands and a servant brought in a bondage harness and helped Blackmore put it on me. A leather strap going behind my neck attached at my wrists, capturing my arms bent and spread. Straps attached at my ankles ran up to my wrists so that I was immobilized, on my back, arms and legs unusable and my buttocks rolled up and exposed. Blackmore greased up the huge green jade, smiling and showing it to me. The servant popped a ball gag into my mouth and disappeared. Then the major moved over close to us to watch Blackmore take a half an hour to work my passage until the phallus could be fully sheathed and had stretched my channel. All the time my eyes were bugging out, I was vocalizing through the ball gag, and Blackmore and the major were smiling and enjoying the sexual torture.