Pimped in Bangkok

"You'll be glad later I opened you well with this," Blackmore whispered in my ear as he moved the jade dildo in stretching waves inside me. I only later appreciated that this was so.

When the dildo was fully buried and had done his stretching work, the two of them worked together to move me to a bedroom and lay me on my back on a reclining chaise lounge. They removed the harness, but only to rebind me, spread-eagling me on the bed with my butt on the raised edge and my torso reclining down toward what usually would be the lower foot edge. My wrists were attached at the corner of the legs at the lower end of the chaise lounge with red scarfs and my ankles to the base of the legs at the higher end. They took the ball gag from my mouth.

"Hearing your responses will be an important part of the enjoyment of you," Blackmore said. "Scream all you want. No one will hear you who might come to relieve you."

I had considerable leeway in the give of the arm and leg restraints, probably on purpose, so that the two men could enjoy me writhing, which I subsequently did a lot of.

A young Thai male servant, clothed only in a sarong skirt tied at the waist, small, slender, and berry brown, came into the bedroom behind us, carrying the bowl of scented oil and two black, soft-leather gloves. As I lay bound on the chaise lounge, Blackmore hovered over me, pulling on the gloves and making a display of me seeing him do so. He was an expert of manipulating gloved hands, being a surgeon, and demonstrated that to me by working my body expertly, gliding over me with the soft leather, finding and exploring curves and crevices, making me writhe under his touch and melt to him.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me. Put it in again."

Blackmore laughed, dipping a gloved hand in the scented oil and grasping my erect cock in a fist and stroking me off. The major sat on the side of the bed. He'd pulled one of the Thai servants to him, holding him, facing Blackmore and me on the chaise lounge, between his spread thighs. He had one hand inside the folds of the young Thai's sarong, obviously having found the youth's cock, other hand cupping the young man's left pec, and his face buried in the servant's throat. The Thai servant had a dreamy look on his face.

With a cry, I shot my load under the ministrations of the oiled gloved hand, not the first load I'd shot that evening, leaving my balls aching with the challenge to continue to produce. Blackmore took this as the starting gun for his serious work with the hand. He ran his gloved hands up my inner thighs, coaxing me to spread my legs as much as I could, which I did. I even dug my feet into the carpet at the base of the chaise lounge and lifted my tail up, leveraged by the balls of my feet. The gloved hands became intimate and concentrated on working my cock and balls. The gloved fingers then flicked the rim of my passage and darted in and out.

"Shit. Fuck," I moaned.

Across the room, the major was now fucking the small Thai servant. The servant's sarong puddled to the carpet below and the young man was skewered on the major's cock, LeBeau sitting on the side of the bed, the servant's buttocks in his lap, the young man's legs streaming back beside the major's hips, and his torso cantilevered over the carpet. The major was grasping the servant's wrists and pulling the young man's arms tight, pulling and releasing as an aid to the thrusts of his hips as he fucked the young Thai.

Watching the major fuck the Thai servant while Blackmore was thrumbing the rim of my hole with his gloved fingers, I was overcome with need. "Fuck me!"

Blackmore laughed. "I'm going to fuck you with my hand," he murmured.

Not fully understanding him, I repeated. "Fuck me. Fuck me now."

He did so. Not the way I had anticipated, though.

The old man worked my entrance with an oiled, gloved hand, working one finger in and then two. The two fingers became three and then four, up to the knuckles. I was thinking of him putting my cock in when the fingers had fully heated me up, but he continued working me with his hand. Any more penetration and the fist would be inside me.

"Oh, shit. Not that. Not that way!" I cried out. But Blackmore was relentless with penetrating me deeper with the fingers.

"Yes, let me know how you feel," he said. The tip of his index finger found my prostate and he rubbed me there.

"Shit! Fuccckkkk!" I tensed, jerked, and came in a nearly dry ejaculation; tensed, jerked, and came again, my eyes closed, unaware that Blackmore was in up to his wrist and that I was being fisted. I collapsed under him, both of us panting hard as I realized that he, indeed, was fucking me with a buried hand. I gave him all of the gasping, yelping, and screaming Blackmore could want as he fucked me. While he fisted me with one oiled-glove hand, he jerked himself off with the other one, standing over me and releasing his load on my belly when he came. The major continued fucking the Thai servant across the room.

As the shock receded, I realized that Blackmore still had a gloved hand inside me.

"Oh, fucckkkkk," I whimpered.

"Now you know I was being good to you by opening you up with the jade dildo," Blackmore said, and he was right, now I knew and appreciated that. I didn't know what I wanted now--for him to take the fist out and give me relief or to fuck me with it, giving me a new experience. The fist was in. I was handling him. Blackmore decided for me. The major had finished with the Thai servant and had moved over to the chaise lounge, crouching beside me, placing his palm on my forehead, whispering encouragement to me. There was no question what the major--my major--wanted to happen.

"Again," Blackmore muttered. I groaned but held steady for him.

The fist began to move, back and forth, in and out. He fucked me with the fist.

I struggled weakly against it at first, but, finally, giving in and lying there and whimpering as, penetrating up to his wrist, Blackmore worked me mercilessly. I yielded to the fist, beginning to move my hips with it, working with the fuck, moaning and groaning, but no longer screaming at the invasion. I had not only acquired a new experience; I was acquiring a new skill. I came for him again, and, excited by his fetish, Blackmore hardened as well.

Blackmore extracted the fist, moved behind me, between my spread thighs, hovered over me, murmuring, "Beautiful boy, so beautiful, so sweet, so yielding." He mounted and penetrated me with his cock, and fucked me again to his own ejaculation. He and the major then removed themselves from me and went over to a small table where a servant had laid out drinks and some snacks. They partook of this, chatting between themselves and leaving me to pant and moan, still trussed up on the chaise lounge.

I heard Blackmore say, "Thank you, Mike. Thank you for bringing such a luscious, yielding young man to me." I initially bristled at this. I was the one doing all of the work. The major was getting his pleasures as much as Blackmore was. But then I recognized reality. I had given myself to LeBeau--completely and willingly. This was how he wanted to use me. To be able to lie under him frequently, this was what I would have to do. It was worth it. I'd made my choice.

When Blackmore released me from my bonds, it wasn't to let me clean up and leave the house with the major. With the major helping him, Blackmore lay down on the chaise and I was stretched out on top of him, facing the ceiling. He put me on his cock and held my waist in his hands as, pressing my hands and my feet into the surface of the couch, I raised and lowered myself on his cock. In a short time, the major was coming over me, positioning himself over my pelvis, his feet flat on the floor on either side of the chaise lounge. He positioned the purple head of his jet-black cock at my entrance, over the already buried cock of Blackmore, and entered me. The two men fucked me in a double penetration, as the major grasped my cock and beat me off to the rhythm of their shared thrusts.

I was able to take it after the session of being opened by the jade phallus and then fully opened by the gloved hand.

Driving away from Blackmore's compound late that Saturday night, the major asked, "Was that OK?"

I have no idea what he would have done from there if I'd said it wasn't.

"It was fine. Very exotic and arousing. New experiences," I answered.

The die was cast for how he would use me over the next two years and what I would become from my life in Bangkok.

* * * *

Filled, stretched, worked, panting, and moaning. Possessed by the big jet-black cock, moving inside me. Faster, deeper, straining to take it, the muscles of my passage walls are alive, undulating over the thick, hard, black cock. Shimmering over it, clutching and releasing it, caressing it, as holding me tight in a missionary position embrace, the major moves deeper in my soft, spongy core. Possessing me, conquering me, slaying me. I surrender yet again--I always surrender to the power of the major--with a long sigh, relaxing, letting him in fully, becoming one with him as he thrusts, thrusts, thrusts.

Crying out in passion, my hand moves from his shoulder blades down to his buttocks. Clutching him there to me as he jerks and comes, jerks and comes, breeding me, conquering me, filling me with his warm cum.

LeBeau rolls off to me to the side. We're in my bed in the small apartment near the international school campus. He carried me here, me moaning and exhausted, the previous night, put me to bed, and didn't touch me again in the night.

It was late Sunday morning, and he has come to me in my bed. I receive him there, opening my legs to him, welcoming him inside me.

After he fucks me and rolls over to the side of me, holding me in his embrace, he whispers, "Yesterday. Was it really--?"

"Yes, it was fine. I told you that last night. New and different. Satisfying. As long as you... this... like just now."

He pauses for a few minutes, fondling me and kissing me. He isn't normally a kisser. I know he has something more on his mind. He is playing me, preparing me to hear something I may not want to hear. As long as he fucks me, I didn't care.

"Next weekend. Detrich Gebhardt. He has an engineering firm here. It's in U.S. interest to have the roads to the Cambodian border constructed to take tanks, if need be. He's in his forties, a well-built German. Not a particularly good looker, but hung. He likes young men. A mean son of a bitch, though. A bit of whip work. Flogging."

"Fine, next weekend," I say after barely a pause. I am that much of the major's slave. He is my pimp.

It is settled. The major is a pimp and I am his male whore--probably only one of several slaved to him. I don't care as long as I am included. That is fine with me. It was 1978; I had just arrived in Bangkok; I taught social studies and coached soccer in my first job; I was addicted to black bull cock; and I was a male whore, justifying that by saying I was doing it in U.S. national security interests. The truth is that I melted to a hung man's cock churning inside me and to kinky and taxing sexual demands.

Viva la gay Bangkok in the late 1970s!