The Barefoot Barstoolistas

***

Pete was walking past the Reception Desk at about eleven a.m. to go out and further explore Bang Tam when the receptionist called his name in her sing-song voice and said she had two messages for him.

Pete was at a loss as to who might have left a message for him at the Pagoda Palace Hotel. But then Pete's face turned from rose blush to crimson to beet red as, in front of checking-out hotel guests, the receptionist read aloud his two messages from the Proprietress of the Barefoot Barstoolistas and Sin-Ful Fil the Ladyboy.

The receptionist sing-songed, "Mr Paris! Proprietress of Barefoot Barstoolistas reminds footboy Peter to relieve husband behind barstool today from six p.m. to ten p.m. to pay reverent adoring homage at her dirty feet - and not be late. And the Ladyboys Sin-Ful Fil and See-Dee Lee say still on offer, is on-the-house Special Meat Sandwich, and shared unpaid employment with Max to earn keep: serving all Ladyboys of Bang Tam with regular toenail trimming and painting, and foot massage on-demand. If accept offer today, and agree to be personal servant to See-Dee Lee - exempt from midnight and four a.m. bin-emptying duties."

Pete thanked the receptionist for relaying his two messages and hastened out of the Pagoda Palace lobby to find somewhere to get a coffee.

***

Pete had an intriguing time roaming about Bang Tam until five-thirty p.m., and then he returned to the site of his primary and secondary interests.

Pete saw the Proprietress of the Barefoot Barstoolistas sitting elevated at her cash register. Their eyes met, and Pete almost waved a greeting but held back, deeming it inappropriate. They were not friends - Pete was her fee-paying customer, and tonight her four-hour 'sit in' barstool attendant. You did not wave familiarly to such a woman - you bowed to her. So Pete bowed to her. Pete saw the Proprietress incline her head the merest fraction in response.

And at the neighbouring attraction, the Ladyboys Sin-Ful Fil and See-Dee Lee were sitting on their white plastic chairs at their matching white plastic table. Atop it, the lidded cardboard shoebox that served as their cashbox, a tall stack of triple-ply tissue paper and a shorter pile of Ladyboys of Bang Tam souvenir T-shirts.

Max was not sitting in devoted attendance at the feet of Sin-Ful Fil - but that was because he was busy with the belated arrival of the bin lorry at the shared hopper. The bin lorry had upended the hopper to shake out the unseemly contents, and Max was tossing in the by now accumulated excess fifty or sixty tightly knotted plastic supermarket bags full of used fap papers. Pete mused that Max had worked hard last night to earn his backroom benefit.

Pete saw that trade was good for both attractions. The Barefoot Barstoolistas' twenty white plastic fapping chairs and the Ladyboys' ten were all occupied by fee-paying patrons, shamelessly and uninhibitedly getting off to the feet of their barstool-perched tease.

Pete approached the two Ladyboys, and like yesterday, he found himself unsettled by their astonishing attractiveness. Pete said, "Hello, Sin-Ful, hello, See-Dee." Pete gestured to the full-occupancy of their ten white plastic fapping chairs and said, "Business is looking good."

Sin-Ful Fil said, "Peter - tell you yesterday. It not business - it pleasure! Not in it for money - in it for kicks! Ladyboys of Bang Tam love nothing better - make footboys pump meat to feet!"

Pete looked over at the ten patrons seated in their white plastic fapping chairs, and he could tell that the ten barstool-perched Ladyboys were all succeeding in their foot guy corrupting aims.

Three reserve Ladyboys smiled and waved at Pete from behind the bar, and Pete recognised them as Mik-Kee Fin and the fabulous twins Do-Gee Ken and Do-Gee Ben. Pete smiled crookedly and waved back.

Sin-Ful Fil said, "Peter - come for on-the-house Special Meat Sandwich? Can come to backroom now! Put meat between feet of Sin-Ful Fil and See-Dee Lee - Peter get off like never before!"

Pete said, "I'm still thinking about it."

See-Dee Lee said, "Beefcake - come to take up offer of unpaid employment to earn keep like Max? Want attend See-Dee Lee as personal servant? And serve all Ladyboys of Bang Tam with regular toenail trimming and painting and give foot-massage when ask? Accept offer today - no late bin emptying!"

Pete said, "I'm still thinking about it."

Max, who had just come over after washing his hands at the public pipe stand, said, "Hey Peter - it's a great gig! Every day - get off like never before! Would it make any difference if I offered to empty all of the Barefoot Barstoolistas' twenty-six bins and all of the Ladyboys' fourteen bins four times a day myself? I'll do it for See-Dee Lee. I know how keen See-Dee Lee is to have you on the team! So Peter - no bin emptying. How about it?"

Pete said, "I'll think about it."

Sin-Ful Fil said, "Peter - no time like present! Peter have Special Meat Sandwich now - no more need think about it! No need for thinking - meat does thinking!"

Pete said, "It's almost six o'clock. I've got an appointment with the Proprietress of the Barefoot Barstoolistas."

Sin-Ful Fil said, "Yes - Sin-Ful know! And as special favour from next Saturday, Sin-Ful send personal servant Max to attend barstool of Proprietress from six p.m. to ten p.m. to give obsessive husband Saturday nights off. Sin-Ful miss attendance of Max - but worth it! Max provide two useful services to Proprietress and earn favour-in-hand for Sin-Ful."

Pete said, "Yes. So I understand. Well, I'd better be going."

Sin-Ful Fil said, "Peter - think about special unpaid employment offers!"

Pete said, "Sin-Ful - I definitely will!"

See-Dee Lee said, "Beefcake - you think on it good! See-Dee Lee want beefcake Peter for loyal attendant - like Sin-Ful Fil have Max!"

Pete said, "See-Dee Lee - believe me when I tell you I'll think about it!"

Pete then waved a so long and left the two Ladyboys and Sin-Ful Fil's besotted loyal attendant/obedient doting servant Max.

***

Pete could barely believe what he was doing as he approached the Proprietress of the Barefoot Barstoolistas seated elevated at her cash register.

"Good evening, madam Proprietress. I hope you are well - and may I say you are looking well?" Pete said politely and sincerely. "As we arranged yesterday, I am here to attend you at your barstool from six p.m. until ten p.m. to relieve your dutiful and devoted husband - and thank you for messaging me at my hotel to remind me of my pledged commitment to you. Madam Proprietress - let me say again: This is the honour of my life!"

The Proprietress said, "Footboy Peter - you polite, respectful and reverent. Qualify nicely to replace obsessive husband as attendant behind barstool to honour and adore dirty feet from six p.m. to ten p.m. - and Proprietress enjoy occasional change of worshipful footboy! Footboy Peter - open flap in bar counter. Come in - attend barstool!"

Pete was beaten to it by his Barefoot Barstoolista last night - An-Su. "Footboy Peter - An-Su open for footboy Peter!" trilled An-Su in her sing-song voice. An-Su then rejoined the other six or seven reserve Barefoot Barstoolistas awaiting their call-up behind the bar. An-Su and her coworkers gave Pete their 'know footboy when see one!' smile. Pete grinned crookedly back at them.

The Proprietress said, "Footboy Peter - see reverent husband last night. So know what do! Sit on floor behind barstool - four hours. At ten p.m. I take Peter to backroom to lick dirty soles and suck clean toes - footboy Peter get off good! Footboy Peter - sit!"

The Proprietress was done talking - she wanted Pete to get down to it.

So did dirty feet Pete - and he didn't hesitate: the Proprietress had set the timer on his four hours of barstool-attending utopia.

Pete sat on the floor behind the platformed high barstool of the Proprietress at her cash register, his face level with and between her green rubber flip-flopped dirty soles as she rested her feet on the chromed circular rung.

Pete admired the shapeliness of the Proprietress' dirty soles. And then his eyes were drawn to and fastened on the grimy bottoms of her heels.

But, Pete was here to attend, honour and adore. Pete placed a kiss of adoration on the bottom of the Proprietress' left heel - and was rewarded promptly and aptly for his expression of submissive reverence. The Proprietress raised her left foot from her barstool's circular rung and drummed her flip-flop against the bottom of her heel - Pete understood her implied message. Pete removed the Proprietress' well-used green rubberised plastic flip-flop from her left foot, and he held it in his hands like the awe-inspired trusted custodian of an incalculably valuable treasure. From seeing the husband in action last night, Pete knew what to do now: align his face nicely to receive the Proprietress' left foot. The Proprietress duly reached her dirty left sole backwards a few inches to easefully find Pete's perfectly positioned face, rest the ball of her foot on the bridge of his nose and cup her toes under his nostrils. Pete inhaled the Proprietress' under-the-toes aroma and beheld the grimy bottom of her heel as he served as her facial footrest. Result: instant hard-on.

Pete didn't move - and neither did the Proprietress. She was content for now to use the bridge of Pete's nose for her footrest, and Pete was just as content to sit and stare at the bottom of her grimy heel an inch from his eyes. And for however long, Pete would sit rock-steady for her and not cause her an irksome dislodge.

Now there was a foot guy with an American accent at the bar counter, and Pete heard him say to the Proprietress, "The doll at Barstool number seven. I'm near the end of my great holiday here, and now I'm low on funds. I guess there's no chance of a discount...? No, I didn't think so. So here's my thirty bucks - all I can afford. So I want to, um, reverence the doll at Barstool number seven. Then I want to go to her barstool to sniff under her toes, and then go to my knees to kiss her soles in tribute - so that I can go to my hotel room and get myself off good, all over again."

Pete heard the Proprietress say, "No - not give footboys discount. And yes - footboy pay thirty dollars. Here - fap paper. Footboy five minutes in fapping chair start now! Go sit in fapping chair number seven - and fap!"

Pete then heard another American voice at the bar counter - and this voice he recognised. He was the disgruntled American from last night. The guy said, "The sweetie at Barstool number two. The whole menu - and here's my eighty bucks upfront."

Pete heard the Proprietress say, "Understand in backroom footboy not Barstoolista pump meat to feet?"

Pete heard the guy say, "Yeah - you told me last night. For that, I have to go next door to the Ladyboys. Well, I guess I can't have everything."

Pete thought he had everything. Right, where he was, as the Proprietress proceeded to massage her left dirty sole on his conveniently placed face while with gleeful satisfaction in her voice she told the dissatisfied and unsatisfied American: "Here - fap paper! Five minutes in fapping chair - start now! Go sit in fapping chair number two - and fap!"

Pete was already getting up a good head of steam, attending the high barstool of the Proprietress at her cash register and listening to her take money from foot guys.

But it was going to be a long four hours for dirty feet Pete until the Proprietress of the Barefoot Barstoolistas took him to the backroom at ten p.m. to lick her dirty soles and suck clean her toes - to 'get off good!'.

***

What a holiday!

Hell - if Bang Tam wasn't Pete's kind of place!

Pete's ten days in Bang Tam had flown by like ten minutes. It was almost time for Pete's taxi to the local airport, and he was packing his 'valise'.

Pete had spent ten incredible days and a ton of money, and he promised himself another bank balance-battering holiday in Bang Tam next year.

The hotel maid Tan-Yu had proposed to Pete every day after she and her similarly diminutive but authoritative and equally delectable sister Kik-Yu had provided 'room service'. And when Pete told Tan-Yu he was tempted to marry her and have Kik-Yu for his sister-in-law - he wasn't kidding.

Pete looked at his watch - it was time to go. Ahead of him was his 24-hour return journey: first, his local hop to the main airport, and then his two connecting flights. A long trip - but worth it.

At the Reception Desk, Pete handed in the keycard for his room. And he gave the receptionist two envelopes: one addressed to Tan-Yu and the other to her sister Kik-Yu. Pete had enclosed two £50 notes in each.

The receptionist told Pete there were two messages for him, and she handed over a sealed envelope and an unenveloped sheet of notepaper. Pete assumed correctly who the unenclosed note was from - Sin-Ful Fil and See-Dee Lee, and there was a PS from Max, individually handwritten.

The two Ladyboys urged Pete to forget about going home and to stay in Bang Tam, as Max did, and to accept their revised offer of unpaid employment to earn his food-scraps/backroom-bedroll keep under their special-concession no-bin-emptying terms. Sin-Ful Fil told Pete that if he were going home, the on-the-house offer of the Special Meat Sandwich that he had not taken up would still be valid if he came back on holiday to see them next year. But See-Dee Lee had not given up on Pete. See-Dee Lee again invited Pete to become 'her' loyal attendant - and incentivised that if he didn't want to sleep on a pallet in the backroom, 'she' would let him come home with 'her' to 'her' place nearby to lie across the foot of 'her' bed to be at 'her' feet all night. Max repeated to Pete that it was 'a great gig', trimming and painting the Ladyboys' toenails and massaging their feet on-demand. Best of all: the Ladyboys would 'catfight' every day over which two of them got to put Pete on a pallet in their backroom and sit on either side on the white plastic chairs to put his meat between their feet to get him off - 'like never before!'. Pete smiled to himself and put the note in his jacket pocket. It would make another great souvenir, along with his Barefoot Barstoolistas and Ladyboys of Bang Tam T-shirts.

The sealed envelope was from the Proprietress of the Barefoot Barstoolistas. The Proprietress had enclosed a 5-year voucher for 50 per cent discounts on all menu items. It was valid for two weeks a year for all five years and would be usable for two weeks when activated by first use. And the Proprietress had enclosed a note. She invited Pete to be her barstool attendant for as many weekday four-hour evening slots as he wanted - Sin-Ful Fil was now lending Max on Saturdays and Sundays to give the Proprietress' husband weekends off. The Proprietress said it would enable her to give her obsessive over-doting husband yet more evenings off - and she reminded Pete that she enjoyed the occasional change of worshipful footboy. Also, she said she would like to enjoy again taking Pete to her backroom to lick her dirty soles and suck clean her toes - to 'get off good!'. Pete smiled to himself again as he put the 5-year voucher and the note back in the envelope and put it in his jacket pocket.

The receptionist told Pete his airport taxi was here. She thanked Pete for staying at the Pagoda Palace Hotel, wished him a pleasant journey home, and said she hoped to see him again.

Pete told the receptionist offhandedly that he was already thinking about another holiday in Bang Tam next year. And the receptionist advised Pete to book his accommodation now. The receptionist said she had Pete's credit card details, and if she could charge it right now, she could offer Pete a special deal for the same time next year: half-price room rate plus all meals included and no supplement charge for single occupancy.

Pete grinned happily at the receptionist and asked her to go ahead with booking him in at the Pagoda Palace at the same time next year.

Pete was still grinning like an idiot when his taxi set off for the thirty-minute ride to the local airport for his twenty-minute hop to Kuala Lumpur Airport.

***

Pete was walking along the green 'Nothing To Declare' aisle in the South Terminal at Gatwick Airport when two young Customs Officers, one male and one female, waved him over to their luggage inspection table.

The male Customs Officer said, "Travelling light, aren't we, sir, all the way from Malaysia? Mind if I take a quick look in your black leather carry-on bag?"

Pete thought the guy was trying to impress his attractive female colleague. So Pete said, "Oh - you mean my valise?" Pete put his luggage on the inspection table, pulled open the zip and said, "There - go ahead."

While the guy made a moronic show of putting a pair of disposable rubber gloves on his hands and a distasteful grimace on his face at the prospect of delving into Pete's bag, his female colleague reached in gloveless and took out the four cellophane-wrapped items. The attractive young female Customs Officer laughed and said, "Hey, Kevin! Look at these - they would look good on you!"

"What the hell?" the guy said as he looked at Pete's logoed souvenir T-shirts of the Barefoot Barstoolistas and the Ladyboys of Bang Tam.

The female Customs Officer returned the four items to Pete's bag, looked at the name-and-address tag attached to the handle and said, "Mr Paris - sorry for keeping you. You are good to go. There is nothing else in your, um, valise that is of any interest to us - in fact, very little else is in there."

Pete said, "I always travel light, Miss. I buy what I need in-resort and leave most of it behind. Well, good afternoon to both of you," Pete said.

Pete walked past the taxi rank and went to the bus stand. After his expensive holiday in Bang Tam, he would need to economise for a while.

But what Pete would not stint on was the bottle of Barossa Valley shiraz he had promised his travel agent Tanya.

It would be too late today - Pete had something that he really needed to take care of first at home - so Pete would call in at the travel agency tomorrow shortly before closing at 5:30 and give the wine to Tanya then.

***

As soon as Pete got home, he rushed straight upstairs with his 'valise'.

Pete's anticipatory excitement reached a fever pitch as, after two weeks of resistance, he succumbed at last to his Do it/Don't do it dilemma.

Pete unzipped his well-used black leather carry-on bag and took out his four cellophane-wrapped souvenirs: two logoed T-shirts of the Barefoot Barstoolistas and two logoed T-shirts of the Ladyboys of Bang Tam.

Pete unwrapped one of his Ladyboys of Bang Tam T-shirts - the blue with a yellow logo; his other was green with a red logo - and put it on. The T-shirt was logoed both front and back, was an excellent fit, and it looked great on him in his bedroom mirror.

Pete took off the warm weather holiday shorts he was still wearing, pulled a couple of sheets of his triple-ply fap paper from the economy-size box he kept on his bedside table and lay down on his bed.

Pete reconsidered what he was about to do. Because once he had done it - it could never be undone.

'She' - a Ladyboy who loved nothing better than to make footboys pump meat to 'her' feet and who ran 'her' barstool business at cost because 'she' was not in it for the money but for the kicks - would have won. 'She' would have corrupted him. Yes: Pete would be pushing his self-corruption button - but 'she' - Sin-Ful Fil - would be the victor along with 'her' co-conqueror See-Dee Lee.

But Pete's thoughts had been tormenting him for two weeks. He had lasted this long - but he could no longer put it off. Pete needed to know - he just had to know!

Pete wanted to find out if he would get off - as the Ladyboys' menu sign confidently claimed with the back-up of a full refund - 'like never before!'.