Cashmaster Colin In Pattaya Ch 03 04

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, violence and martial arts. Most scenes involve consent. Some chapters contain descriptions of mild raceplay that might trigger you. If you are offended by that, read no further.

Chapter 3: Colin becomes familiar with the term 'cashmaster'. In the next chapter he puts theory into practice.

Chapter 3

So that Frenchman might be a racist. Maybe not openly, but what he wanted went in a direction Colin found suspicious. His parents were loyal Greenies. The Business Management student was not really interested in politics, but he fully supported the strict immigration policies of the current government, much to his parents' displeasure. But of course that was different from being racist. He couldn't imagine letting a Thai boy do humiliating things. Ordering him to worship his trainers, for example. Hell no, it just felt wrong and he shut down the conversation.

But later on the beach, he thought about it a little more in depth.

How much attention he got here, especially from women but also from men. Some women laughed at him. Turned their heads. Flirted with him, like that girl at the airport who checked his passport. Her cheeky smile betrayed that she was into him. Leaning casually against the desk, he gave her a wink and she blushed. He should have asked for her number. Here on the beach, he suddenly felt like driving his white cock into her cunt, hard and deep. Immediately his dick became hard and the horny white lad jerked it through the material of his swimming shorts for a moment. The rough feeling of the synthetic fabric against his glans and foreskin added to his horniness. He looked around. Benjamin and Moshe were swimming. It was relatively quiet on the beach. Twenty yards away sat an older German couple. He lowered his swimming trunks slightly and started to jerk off, while looking around carefully.

Of course, he knew that Thai women found white men interesting, but he always thought that those relationships revolved around money. Now he realised that it was also about looks. Yeah, he was better looking than most Thai men, who were quite small and slender anyway. Definitely not tall and toned like him. Their brown faces were different too, a little flat with small noses and small eyes, although not as 'slanted' as in China.

That word triggered him, he couldn't help it. His first sexual experience was with Mia, a Chinese-Australian girl. At first she did not like him or she pretended not to. At fourteen, he was already quite tall and sturdy for his age. Her locker was next to his. So one morning he took out some books and she couldn't get to her own locker.

'Get out of the way', she snarled. 'You're trash, Colin.'

'No, just wait your turn.'

She gave him a push, but he just stood there. Then he turned round and said: 'Calm down, slope.'

He didn't say it unkindly. He said it with his most charming smile.

Mia wasn't exactly shy and she bounced back that he was an idiot.

'I'll make it up to you', he said as he walked away.

And that happened a few weeks later. He took her to his house. His parents were still at work, they had the place all to themselves. Like most Australian high school students, Colin wore a school uniform, but he hated it. He preferred to walk around all day on his Nikes and in his expensive sportswear. But that afternoon he also had taekwondo lessons, so he immediately put on his white dobok, white Nike socks and his familiar black Nike TNs. He walked around the house like that. Maybe it was the effect of this bold outfit, he didn't know. But she allowed him to kiss her. To push her to her knees. She pulled his teenage cock out of his white trousers, which jumped up in boyish excitement. First she jerked him off and he was so horny he almost came. He was sitting on his desk chair and she was on her knees between his legs.

'Blow me,' he ordered, slapping his weapon impatiently across her pretty face.

She was a year older than him and maybe she already had some experience. He groaned when he felt her lips around his glans, putting his hands on her head. After a few minutes, he squirted his warm teenage cum all over her face.

And now, eight years later, he jerked off on the beach in Pattaya, thinking of Mia. But then Benjamin appeared and the horny bloke quickly hid his cock in his swimming shorts.

Later, he felt so restless that he gave Benjamin his phone. The Israeli shook his head when he read Eric's messages. But he didn't seem really shocked.

'It's just weird, isn't it?'

Benjamin returned the iPhone. 'Looks like our Frenchman is looking for a cashmaster.'

'What the fuck is that?'

His friend began to speak more softly even though there were no others around. Moshe was still in the water, talking to a girl.

'You know that I was doing military service before I travelled to Thailand. Here's the thing, in my unit there was a guy who was constantly asking his mates to take pictures of him. Sometimes lifted his foot while wearing boots. Put his rifle over his shoulder. That's how he was photographed. Later I found out that he put those photos on Twitter. And other men paid him for that. He earned quite a lot of money.'

'Um, that's just porn then.'

'No, not really. Sure, he was good-looking, but it was more about dominance. He kind of forced gay men to transfer money. A message on Twitter like "pay me, bitch" with a picture of him in his uniform and army boots. Middle finger up, rifle over his shoulder, the cocky bad-ass act, you know. On his Twitter feed he presented himself as a master. An alpha male. And the men who payed him were the beta's. Not that he was gay, actually, he had a girlfriend, but the fact that he was straight only seemed to make him more attractive to his followers. I don't know, those messages from Eric remind me of that. Especially because of the focus on feet. Which seems to be a thing in the cashmaster scene.'

As he said that, Benjamin lifted his left foot. It wasn't as big as Colin's, but still bigger than average. He grinned.

'It may sound strange, but there are plenty of gays who are into feet. They'll probably like yours too. The bigger the better, eh?'

Now Colin raised his foot too, the right one. He looked at the shape, the toes and the bony structure of the top. He had never given his feet much thought. His big toe was a bit longer than the second one, so his foot had a nice shape.

'So gay blokes like my feet?'

Ben grinned. 'Well, not all gays, I guess. But some do. I'm quite sure'

Colin started moving his foot up and down. 'Yeah, suck my big foot, faggot bitch. Like that?'

They shot up in laughter, two straight lads having a somewhat strange conversation on the beach.

'But I don't understand one thing. Why would gays men pay straight lads to put on the blokey act. I mean, you only have to go to a footy match to witness such behaviour. You know what I mean? Or just walking around among my mates at some party. We act like that all the time.'

Ben thought for a moment. Then he said: 'Look, I don't get it either. But it's really about paying. Sending money is an act of submission for the pigs. That's how Ariel called his slaves. Besides, how many gay dudes go to the stadium? And how many gay friends do you have? Classmates and friends of your girlfriend don't count.'

Now Moshe came out of the water and Benjamin started talking about something else. Colin shrugged his shoulders, didn't think about it any further.

That night, the boys walked along Central Pattaya Road in a sulky mood. They had just been turned down at a club. Colin didn't understand, but the Israelis knew that there had been a huge fight in that same club last week. Drunk Englishmen, Australians, Israelis and tourists from other countries had broken up the joint. So these days young men were placed under extra scrutiny.

Then two men approached them, probably Americans. The Israelis moved aside, but Colin pretended not to see them and walked on. His shoulder bumped hard against the passing man.

'Watch your steps, dickhead.'

'What did you say?'

Colin turned and walked towards the man, who was probably in his late thirties.

'What did you say?'

'Fuck off, asshole.'

Colin felt the aggression running through his body. He had already had a few drinks, but he was fit enough for a fight. The man now took a step back, looked at the tall Australian from head to toe, clearly making an assessment of his opponent.

'Ok man, sorry.'

'I didn't hear that, motherfucker. What did you say, huh? Who is an asshole here?

For a moment he felt Moshe's hands on his arm.

'Let it go, man.'

But he ignored his friend. Clenching his fists, Colin danced like a boxer in front of the American and lashed out, but not with his fist. No, he opted for the most powerful kick in his arsenal. He took a step forward, balanced on the ball of his left foot, then turned almost 180 degrees with the socked heel of that supporting foot pointing to his target (slipping out of the loose-fitting trainer) and looked over his shoulder. Turning his body like that, he lifted the kicking leg from a low chamber, dangerously high, and struck out. Forcefully, the heel of his trainer hit the neck of his opponent, who collapsed like a sandbag. Colin found himself standing with both feet on the ground again. He had made a perfect 360-degree turn. The other man looked at him, startled, but he stood there like a girl. Colin walked up to his victim and spat in his face. His natural aggression took over. He almost relished the opportunity to kick the shit out of this man.

But the Israelis quickly took him away. 'You don't want to spend the night in a Thai cell', Moshe warned. 'You're not in Australia, karate kid.'

'Great spinning hook kick, by the way', Benjamin added, but Moshe looked annoyed. He was so shocked that he didn't feel like doing anything else. The Israelis went to their place and they promised to meet him on the beach tomorrow.

Back in his own shabby hotel room, Colin didn't feel like going to sleep right away. The adrenaline from the fight still raged through his body. He kicked off his Nike trainers and lay down on the bed. He saw the face of that bloke again, the fear in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder while brutally executing that spinning hook kick.

I feel pretty aggro, he thought. Feel like kicking the shit out of another lad. On a whim, he grabbed his phone and called Eric, who picked up immediately.

'Hello Colin.'

'What's up?'

'We're fine, Colin.'

'We?'

'Yes, I'm here with Wisit.'

That was a coincidence. As if it were predestined. Now or never.

'Suppose I want to do it, then I'll get 250 euros. Yeah? Little Wisit worshipping my fucking trainers and my feet. That's it? No sexual stuff, right? And how far can I go?'

There was a short moment of silence. Then he heard Eric say something in Thai to Wisit. He couldn't hear Wisit's voice, but they were obviously talking about it.

Then he heard Eric say: 'No sex, definitely no need. You just dominate Wisit. Force him to worship your sneakers, your big feet and your muscles, if you feel comfortable about that. You can do anything to him, but no serious injuries.'

'And if I hit him? Kick him around a bit?'

'You can do all that, but I don't want to have to take him to a hospital, if you know what I mean. So don't go too far. I will not protect you if Wisit reports you to the local authorities.'

Colin thought about what Benjamin said. This whole thing was not without risk. Wisit was jumping into the deep end, but so was he. But he knew he could respect his limits.

'And you are sure he wants that too? Getting acquainted with my trainers and feet?'

'Yes Colin, I'm pretty sure.'

'When?'

He heard Eric's heavy breathing through the phone. 'Right now? Take a cab, I'll pay for it too.'

Colin wrote down the address. He couldn't believe he was going to do this, but he also thought: what the hell, I'm here in fucking Pattaya, I'm young and it's easy money.

He put on a clean wife-beater, that left his muscular shoulders and arms fully exposed. Then he took off his jeans and looked around for his Muay Thai shorts. They were smelly because he had worn them for a couple of days, but he knew that wouldn't matter. After all, he was not going out with a girl, right? What shoes would he put on? He had also brought another pair of his Nike TNs and his Off White Nike Air Max 90s.

The Nike TNs then, because they had made such an impression on the boy. The other pair he had worn many times and they looked a bit beaten. The upper had a bold red color, fading to orange and white at the spot around the swoosh, which was black with a green border. Ultimately he chose these trainers because they matched the Red Bull logo on his blue shorts so well. The shoes were also smelly, but maybe that's what that little Asian liked. Who knows?

Then he remembered that at the same market where he had found the Muay Thai shorts, he had also bought a pair of boxing gloves. They were black with white lettering of an unknown brand. He smiled. Wouldn't it be nice to inaugurate them tonight? So he put them in a plastic Footlocker bag.

Before leaving, he walked to the gritty bathroom that he shared with a few other backpackers. He looked at himself in the mirror and was quite pleased. He had the face of a male model, a sharp jawline, deep-set eyes, a high forehead and a straight nose. In Perth, he had once been approached by an agent of a modelling agency. He could make it, she said, maybe not on the European catwalks, but for magazines and retail websites he was perfect. He would look smart in streetwear brands, but also in dress suits, she explained. He smiled proudly at his reflection and flexed his right arm.

In the car, the Australian student made himself comfortable and put his feet up on the dashboard. He glanced sideways for a moment, but the driver apparently approved. He also lit a cigarette. The driver did the same and rolled down the window. Colin stared at his shoes, which occasionally reflected the sparse light of the street lanterns. Then they lit up in the dark, like to small fires in a dry wood. Yeah, he could almost feel their scorching heat.

He didn't know why, but those trainers really matched his aggressive mood. Maybe because of their shape or the black lines across the mesh material, designed to resemble palm trees or ocean waves. The little swoosh on the outside. They had always been very popular in Australia. His parents didn't like the fact that he wore them often, worried that he looked too much like an 'eshay'. Hypocritical, he thought. They always stood up for the marginalized, but their son couldn't walk around like a working class boy. But in the last few years, they weren't just worn by the real lads anymore. Students and hipsters sported them too. Nevertheless, these fucking trainers hadn't lost a square inch of their brutality. He spread his feet a little further apart.

The car stopped in a dimly lit street with telephone poles, stores, and apartments. Colin put his feet down and sent a message.

'I'm here. Get the fuck out and pay the driver.'

Suddenly he had to take a piss. He got out, told the driver that another man was coming down to pay him, lit another cigarette, walked a few feet away from the car and pulled his cock out of his shorts.

Chapter 4

That's how Eric found Colin, standing wide-legged in the middle of the road, head slightly back, cigarette in the corner of his mouth, and a Footlocker bag in his hand. A hard stream of piss flowed down from his cock. That guy is cocky, he thought, not without admiration. He liked it, really liked it. He paid the driver and waited for Colin to finish. The boy didn't offer him a hand. Silently, he walked upstairs after Eric.

Wisit sat on the couch and watched videoclips on television. His face lit up when Eric entered with their guest. Unlike Eric, he didn't seem really nervous.

'Hi Colin,' Wisit said. The Australian walked up to him and held out his hand in the casual manner of a young straight lad. Wisit's small hand disappeared into Colin's.

'Whassup?'

The boy didn't answer, but looked down with a smile. Instinctively, Colin knew he was looking at his shoes.

'I thought, you haven't seen these yet, so I'll put them on for you. What do you think of these motherfuckers?'

'Nice', the boy said. Vuh-ry nice.

'Yeah? You like these kicks too?'

Colin lit a cigarette, lifted his right foot and held his shoe motionless in front of the boy's face, leaning back slightly with his hands on his hips. Eric had taken a seat on the sofa in the corner of the room and his legs were trembling a little, so excited was he. Now it was going to happen. This handsome white Australian seemed to be fulfilling a long-cherished desire. His looks were perfect: tall, handsome, white and straight, but also cocky and slightly aggressive. It looks so good already, Eric thought. Colin clearly had no trouble keeping his balance. And his Nike TN trainer was so big compared to Wisit's face.

Wisit wanted to touch it, but the straight lad kicked his hand away. Then he moved the toe cap of his trainer under Wisit's chin, pushing his head up slightly so that the boy was looking at him. The Thai licked his lips. An arrogant smirk appeared on Colin's face. He put his foot down again.

'No worries queer boy, we're going to have fun, you and me. But business first', Colin said and walked towards Eric. 'How are you going to pay me?'

They quickly decided that Paypal was the best option. Eric immediately sent 250 euros to Colin's account. The Australian boy looked at Wisit.

'And what does this little fellow get?'

Eric pointed to a stack of banknotes on the table. 'That's 4000 baht. Quite a lot of money by Thai standards.'

They had not talked about the girl on the phone. Eric had already arranged everything with Saul. When Colin took a taxi home, the girl was waiting in the lobby of his hotel. He only had to take her upstairs. Colin just nodded. He liked that. But he also realised that he had to keep his side of the bargain. Otherwise Eric would cancel the girl.

He looked around. The living room was small, but modern. On a low piece of furniture he noticed a Samsung widescreen television. Next to it was a laptop. Meanwhile, Wisit rose to his feet and walked to the kitchen.

'Eric, plug that laptop into the television. I want to watch porn while I do my thing. It's a smart TV, right?'

'What do you want to watch?'

'Just straight porn. Some Asian pussy.'

Colin accepted the bottle of beer (Carlton Draught) from Wisit and took a first major sip. It felt good right away. He took another sip and took out the boxing gloves from the Footlocker bag. He put on the left one while looking at Wisit straight on. Did the little Thai boy understand what was in store for him? He lit another cigarette. Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol, the nicotine and the familiar sensation of the boxing glove on his left hand, but he at that point felt himself getting quite aggressive. I shouldn't get too worked up, he thought while he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Eric was still messing around with the laptop and the television.

'Hurry up', Colin ordered. Then he put his feet on the coffee table, snapped his fingers and looked at Wisit. The boy got the message and knelt down. His fingers ran over the synthetic upper of Colin's Nike TNs. The material felt soft, just like when he held Colin's other Nike TN trainer in the restaurant, but this time he also felt the firmness of Colin's feet inside. Wisit felt Colin's gaze rest on him. The Australian backpacker lifted his foot slightly, waving his trainer in front of Wisit's face.