Before you start reading
This is the story of Colin, a young straight guy from Australia. How he explored his dominant side in the seaside resort of Pattaya, Thailand, and took his first steps as a cashmaster.
The story contains domination with a focus on trainers and feet, spitting, verbal abuse, (mild) violence and martial arts. Almost all scenes involve consent. Some chapters contain descriptions of mild raceplay that might trigger you. If you are offended by that, read no further.
English is not my first language. I am also looking for an editor who can correct minor stylistic errors.
In the first two chapters Colin gets to know his first victims, Eric an older man from France and Wisit, a local.
Chapter 1
It all started in a restaurant in Pattaya, on Walking Street. Colin walked in with two lads from Israel, whom he had met yesterday. They ordered nothing special according to the typical straight guy diet, something like spare ribs and French fries. The restaurant was almost deserted. You could tell that the place mainly catered to backpackers. The white plastic chairs and the folding tables added to a shabby atmosphere.
At one of the other tables, an older white man was sitting with a young Thai lad. They were not eating anything, just drinking cola from glasses with ice cubes. That too, here in Pattaya, was nothing special.
Colin paid no attention to it, but Benjamin, one of the Israelis, said something like: 'Looks like Peng has found his sugar daddy.'
All three of them smiled.
Colin sat closest to the other table. He noticed that both the boy and the man looked at him from time to time. Rightly, he took it as a compliment. I just look fucking good, he thought. The Israelis didn't notice, too busy making plans for the rest of the evening. Colin also sensed that the boy was paying a lot of attention to his trainers. He could understand that too. That night, he was wearing a brutal pair of Air Max Plus Nikes or Nike TNs, as most people in Australia call them. They were fairly new, bought six months ago at a Footlocker store in Perth. The Thai boy looked a bit shabby in old Adidas shorts and a red T-shirt. His small Asian feet were tucked into cheap worn-out slippers.
Benjamin was wearing a pair of Nike Air Max 90s but from his spot the boy couldn't see them well. Colin stretched out his leg a little and immediately the boy turned his head slightly. He probably can't afford these kinds of trainers, Colin thought. He hadn't laced up his shoes in the normal way. The ends of his laces were casually sticking out of the top two holes. They were rather loose on his feet, but he liked wearing them that way.
Now the man lit a cigarette. The restaurant had no walls on the street side, but transparent tarpaulins that had been rolled up. So they were actually sitting on a kind of indoor terrace. Colin stood up and walked towards the two other guests.
'Put out that cigarette. Don't like that while we're eating.'
The man seemed nervous. He obeyed immediately, mumbling an apology. The boy also said 'sorry' even though he had done nothing. Colin only nodded at him.
After dinner the Israelis left for their hotel. Moshe had forgotten his wallet. They agreed that they would meet each other here in half an hour. After five minutes, Colin felt like having a cigarette. The man and the boy were still sitting there. He walked over to their table.
Grinning, he said: 'Yo, I do feel like having a ciggie now.'
The man smiled and took one out of the pack. Colin took a short whiff of the tobacco in the cylinder (he did that out of habit), put the filter between his lips and lit the cigarette. It was his first smoke in a few days and he felt the uplifting effect immediately.
He didn't know why, but smoking always made him feel confident, cocky even. So he put his right foot on the empty chair at the table.
Then he gave the man and the boy a hand and introduced himself. He was from Australia, studying Business Management at the University of Western Australia and he had taken a few months off, nothing special otherwise. His plan was to travel north, but now that he had met Moshe and Benjamin, he wanted to stay here a little longer. Exploring Pattaya's nightlife. He thought that was rather corny, but he knew he was young and wouldn't be doing it anytime soon later.
Colin did not mention that he had temporarily dropped out of his studies, against the wishes of his parents. He would rather do something with martial arts, maybe start his own school.
But he added: 'And I actually want to visit some kickboxing schools in Bangkok.'
'That's why you are wearing these Muay Thai shorts. Are you a kickboxer?', Eric asked expectantly.
The boy shook his head. 'I wouldn't call myself a kickboxer, I've just started, but I've been doing taekwondo for years.'
The man's name was Eric and he was from Lyon. He lived in Thailand these days, he said with a smile. Colin found that interesting. The man was certainly not yet sixty, so he was doing something right. Maybe he could work from a distance. Or he was just rich. But Colin couldn't tell that from his clothes. Only his expensive-looking watch betrayed some affluence. He could barely understand the boy.
'What's your name, again?'
Finally Eric said his young companion's name was Wisit. The boy was very small, even by Thai standards. He was also quite thin, seemed to have almost no shoulders. His hair was semi-long with some blonded strands running through it. How old was he? You could never tell that for sure with these little Thai fellows. He didn't look 18 yet, but he might have been in his early twenties as well. (Later it turned out that Wisit was 19.)
Then Wisit blurted out spontaneously: 'Your shoe. I like.'
Colin laughed. 'Yeah? You like my trainers? I noticed you were staring at them.'
He immediately kicked off his trainer and gave it to Wisit, who held it up slightly, like a boy who has unwrapped a birthday present. This is universal, Colin thought. He remembered how happy he always was when his parents gave him trainers for Christmas or to reward good grades at school. The excitement he felt when he opened the fresh shoe box. But Wisit might never have had a pair of Nike trainers on his feet.
The Australian student also noticed how small the boy's hands were. Eric watched intrigued as the boy looked at Colin's shoe from all sides. The backpacker sat down. He had nothing better to do anyway.
'This shoe. Nike TN,' Colin said in plain English, making sure the boy would understand him. 'Paid 240 Australian dollars for those shoes. That's about 170 euro.'
'You have big feet,' Eric said with a hint of admiration in his voice.
'Yeah, size 11, it's 12 on the American table.'
