Singapore Sling

Kyle was an adventuresome, inventive, strong-minded young man. In short, he was a smartass. He'd been raised by maids and chauffeurs, and he was spending his college freshman year abroad with the floating University of the Pacific not because he was brilliant—which, in some ways, he was—but because his parents didn't know what to do with him and better out of sight and mind than under foot and always getting into trouble at home, they thought.

For the most part, Kyle had always pretty much gotten away with his adventuresome and unruly ways because he looked so angelic. His unruly ways were matched by a halo of golden-highlighted auburn curly hair and the facial features and lithe, pleasantly muscled, perfectly formed body of a young Greek god. And his smile was electrifying. He was always forgiven his foibles at least once by anyone on the basis of his beaming, innocent, "who me?" smile alone.

The university ship was docked at Singapore that day, and the students had been taken off in groups to be steeped in the culture of the tiny Southeast Asian nation. The culture that the university faculty thought was important enough for steeping was not necessarily the same that Kyle had in mind for his cultural advancement.

The university officials had made three serious mistakes. They divided their students into groups aligned by no system that made the absence of a specific student easy to identify; they had turned the groups over to tour guides who didn't know the students; and they had undercounted Kyle's group by one and revealed that undercount within the hearing of Kyle.

The university's view of a cultural tour of Singapore was a trudge down to the Merlion statue in the waterside park at the original landing pier of the island nation followed by a motor coach roundabout of the small country dangling below Malaysia and a visit to the national museum to study the country's rich and rocky history. Five hours had been allotted for this experience, which would earn each eager and well-heeled student one college credit. Kyle's goals for Singapore were to get hammered and to get laid at one of the massage parlors he heard made the nations of Southeast Asia memorable.

If the university hadn't made its three mistakes and if the venerable Raffles hotel hadn't been within sight of the Merlion, where the tour of Kyle's group started its outing, he probably wouldn't have had his dreams come true.

But Kyle's mind wandered at the funny-accented English history introduction being droned out in front of the Singapore Merlion statue, and his eyes refocused on the grand porte-cochere entrance to the Raffles hotel across the lawns of the waterside park. The wheels of his mind went into overdrive. He'd read somewhere that the alcoholic drink called a Singapore Sling had been invented at the Long Bar in the Raffles hotel. The university's mistakes and his goals clicked into place in the immediate and overwhelming desire to find out what a Singapore Sling tasted like.

He managed to sneak away from the group without being seen. Sneaking away from a scene of mischief was Kyle's principle talent. It was a piece of cake on this day.

* * * *

Kyle was on his third Singapore Sling and slurring his words and finding it a bit hard to hold his feet on the rungs of the bar stool, when the half-English, half-Singapore Chinese, well-dressed, clean-cut, young lawyer type patron at the other end of the Long Bar quietly moved down the length of the bar and took a position next to Kyle. They struck up a conversation, with the Singaporean showing great interest in who Kyle was and why he was there—and, eventually, what he really was looking for.

Kyle wasn't exactly lost to the world on alcohol, but he was naturally adventuresome and had been raised to assume that everyone else there was present to serve his needs and keep him safe in a way that he never bothered to do himself. And Kyle had always been open and straightforward in enunciating his "needs" and wants.

Kyle's new Singaporean friends wasn't the least bit shocked to hear that Kyle wanted a sex massage and to get laid, and, as a matter of fact, Kyle's new friend knew exactly where that could happen.

"Best massage, best fuck, all clean, a little expensive, so maybe you don't want . . ."

"No problem," Kyle said. "I've got plenty of money."

And indeed he had, as the Singaporean had already noted, because Kyle was indiscriminately flashing his wad of money around.

But it wasn't really Kyle's money that the Singaporean man was interested in. It was something far more valuable.

"But maybe you want something really special; maybe you're used to . . ."

"Naw, just a straight massage and fuck to start with," Kyle said quickly. "Just want to lose my cherry fast. I've only got about four more hours before I have to be back on board."

"Cherry? You mean . . . You mean you've never . . .?"

Kyle was blushing. "Maybe someone really experienced first . . . someone who'd tell me what to do . . . you know."

How fortuitous, the Singaporean thought. Even more valuable. A meltingly handsome, young Caucasian hunk and a virgin as well. But, "Certainly, no problem. I have just the place in mind," was what he said to Kyle.

* * * *

Less than twenty minutes later, and the taxi driver, who was really one of the Singaporean man's colleagues, had made so many twists and turns in the narrow Singapore roads and alleys so that Kyle would have had no idea where he was even if he had been sober. The taxi stopped at a wooden door in a salmon-colored stuccoed wall in a narrow back street deep in Singapore's Alijunied red light district. The door opened even before the taxi's motor stopped, and Kyle's new friend bundled him into a high-walled, lushly landscaped forecourt and down a bricked path cut through the center of the vegetation and to a stone-block framed moon gate in a solid deep-red-painted brick wall. The space was in the deep shadows from the high walls and tree foliage overhead. There were pin-point lights flickering in the fronds of the palm trees fanned over the vegetation in the forecourt, but the only strong light was pouring out of open moon gate door.

Just inside the moon gate stood a massive Chinese man in a traditional, light-purple Chinese cheongsam. He was smiling broadly and rubbing his hands together in anxious anticipation. His factotum, who floated around the exclusive Raffles hotel trolling for possible well-heeled customers for Wang Jun's House of Perfect Bliss and who had come up with the prize of Kyle, bowed deeply to the Chinese gentleman and proudly presented Kyle for his examination.

Kyle was a little confused—in a way that he attributed to the amount of alcohol he had consumed, however—when his recently acquired Singaporean friend introduced him to Wang Jun, told him that Wang Jun would take care of everything, and then disappeared back through the moon gate they had entered.

Wang Jun was a mountain of a man. Well over six and a half feet and perhaps pushing 300 pounds, most of which was muscle but a good portion of which was fat, earned by gluttonous living. At either side of the moon gate and standing at attention, were two other men, both Chinese, and both as tall as Wang Jun, but composed of much more muscle than Wang Jun was. They were dressed in filmy white harem pants and red silk vests that didn't meet in front over naked barrel chests. Off on either side of the first section of hallway that extended straight back in sections separated by a series of moon gates were two plushly furnished receptions rooms already nearly overflowing with men of various nationalities, all expensively dressed, mostly middle aged. Young women in sarong skirts, their breasts uncovered, nipples rouged, padded among the men with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

There had been murmuring through the rooms on either side of the wall when Kyle first entered with his friend from the Long Bar, but it increased in decibel rate as Kyle was being introduced to Wang Jun. Kyle felt slightly uncomfortable under the stares of many of the men in the two reception areas.

"Come, young man," Wang Jun said to Kyle after they had stood under lights in the hallway for a few minutes. "Your friend has told me what you are looking for. Come walk with me, and I think we can find something you will want."

He linked his arm in Kyle's and started down the hallway into the interior of the establishment.

Kyle gasped as they entered the first section of central hallway between two moon gates. The hallway was in darkness, but to Kyle's right was a large picture window into a brightly lit room, where a series of young naked women were lying around on lounges on three tiers. As Kyle watched, they all used their hands and bodies to emphasize what they had to offer him and simulated what he could do with them. The appearance of the angelically beautiful young Caucasian man had seemed to galvanize them. Each of them seemed genuinely interested in being chosen.

Kyle could hardly take his eyes off the women. There must have been twenty or more of them. He'd never seen anything like it. His first reaction wasn't arousal. He was scared. His first thought was that he was in over his head. He felt like he could be eaten alive in this place.

"Come, look to the other side of the pathway," Wang Jun said in an unctuous voice. "See, there are three doors. Each door has a window. Feel free to look in. These lovely young women are the picks of the moment from our viewing room."

Kyle tore his eyes away from the viewing room window and looked into the small window in the first door on the other side of the hallway. The room was small, carpeted, but sparsely furnished. A low platform bed occupied the center of the room. There was a shower stall in the far corner of the room, a small chair, and a clothes tree. The man's clothes were strewn all around the floor, and the man, a heavy, big-boned Caucasian, was hunched over a slight Chinese woman lying on her back on the platform, standing between her spread legs, and fucking her furiously. One of his hands was holding her head down to the surface of the platform at her neck and his other one was squeezing one of her breasts hard. The woman had a somewhat panicked look on her face.

Kyle immediately pulled away, giving way to Wang Jun to look inside so that he could intervene all the more quickly. And Wang Jun did look in the window. But he just went "Tsk, tsk" and then drew Kyle's attention to the second window. Here, a thin, but well-muscled Japanese gentleman with graying hair was using the chair in an inventive position to fuck a red-haired Caucasian woman in also a very inventive position. His clothes were neatly folded on the clothes tree, with his shoes were placed in precise alignment on the floor below. The Caucasian woman's face showed that she was enjoying the fuck.

The couple in the third room were just beginning. The Chinese man was laying on his back on the platform and the young Black woman was still giving him a massage. But it was quite a sensual massage. She was massaging his torso with one hand and massaging his engorged cock with the other hand. The one hand of the man that Kyle could see in play was fingering the woman's cunt, the index finger deeply imbedded inside her.

"I . . . I don't . . . know," Kyle said when he pulled away from the small windows and turned to the larger one. He was both fascinated and overwhelmed by what he saw and finding he was trying to look away, up into the corner of the room where there were no naked women.

"You don't have to choose yet," Wang Jun said with a smile. "In fact, I didn't intend you to. I would like you to see more of what we have to offer."

"But . . . but . . . all those other men ahead of me . . . I don't believe I have the time . . ." Kyle stammered out, trying now to slow this process down or to give it over altogether. No longer as cocky and as sure of himself as he had been when he had started on this adventure.

"Don't worry about that," Wang Jun said, giving Kyle a big smile. "You are a special customer. You are being given preferential service. No . . . no. It's only right. Come, perhaps the next section will whet your appetite more."

In the next section, the women were still basically naked, but they were harder edged, wearing bits and pieces of leather, and were more demonstrative in selling their wares. Kyle could hardly do more than glance in the windows of the rooms opposite, where the women were either abusing their clients or being abused with extra toys and equipment. He moved quickly through the moon gate into the other section under his own steam.

This was a smaller section than the other two and had full-length windows looking into just one medium-sized chamber on either side that also had a door to the hall at one end. This was the first section where Kyle and Wang Jun weren't alone. At the one side, men, naked men, were lined up along the window, watching what was going on inside the room, but also queuing up to go into the room through the door themselves. Nearly all of them were masturbating. Wang Jun pushed Kyle between two of the men so that he could see what was inside.

The only piece of equipment in the room was a body sling hanging from the ceiling by chains attached at each corner of the leather sling. The sling was occupied by a young, naked woman, who was slung there on her back, with her wrists and ankles cuffed high on the chains at the four corners. A small, elderly Chinese man was standing on a stool between her legs and fucking her as vigorously as he could manage. The woman was a Caucasian, her head was hanging down from the end of the sling, her long blonde hair cascading nearly to the floor, her face turned away from the window. As Kyle began to watch, the small Chinese man finished whatever he was trying to do, and a big black man went through the door and into the room, kicked the stool aside, lined up a monstrously thick and long engorged cock at her hole, and thrust inside her. Her body began to writhe and twitch and her fists closed hard on the chains. Her head snapped around toward the window, her mouth opened in a big "O." Kyle could hear her howl in the unexpectedly deep and thick taking through the window as he stumbled away and turned to the other side of hallway.

On the other side was a room identical to the one Kyle had just turned from, but it was empty.

"Come," Wang Jun said. "Just two more stations to show you."

The next section was similar to the first except that the figures in the viewing room were young, lithe men, and the massaging and fucking going on in the three chambers across the hallway were men clients fucking young men. Two of the rooms were occupied by massage platforms as in the first section, but the third room had a cube device rather than a platform on which a young black man was cuffed at the four corners near the base, belly down, and a bulky Chinese man was crouched behind him, screwing a long, thick red rubber dildo up the young man's ass channel.

Kyle tried to turn away from this section and retrace his steps down the hall, but Wang Jun grabbed him with a strong grip on Kyle's wrists and forced him back to the window in the third room.

"No, no, my young friend," Wang Jun hissed. "You mustn't leave until you've seen the last section."

He held a whimpering Kyle there, eyes at the window, while the Chinese man finished with his dildo work and started to fuck the young black man in long, deep strokes.

"I'm told you wanted to lose your virginity," Wang Jun whispered in Kyle's ear. "Is it true. Are you virginal?"

"No, please," Kyle whimpered. "I'm not interested any more. I want to leave."

Wang Jun strengthened his hold and Kyle yelped in pain. "Is it true or is it not. Have you had sex with another yet?"

"No, no, I haven't" Kyle answered in an anguished voice.

Wang Jun began to tremble, but he held Kyle there, looking in the window, as the Chinese man pulled out of the young black man, uncuffed him, turned him on his back on the cube, recuffed his wrists, and lifted and spread his legs and renewed his deep fucking. The young black man's face could be seen now. He was trying to keep his expression blank, but he was wincing occasionally, revealing that the Chinese man's digging cock was having an effect on him.

"No, no, no," Kyle was quietly pleading. And he was still pleading that when one of Wang Jun's bouncers arrived and held Kyle in thrall, while Wang Jun pulled a capsule from out of the folds of his light-purple cheongsam, split it open, brought it close under Kyle's nose, and began dragging him toward the last moon gate, this one closed off by a gilded wooden door at the end of the long passage. Kyle weakened almost immediately and was blacked out before they reached the final moon gate.

* * * *

Kyle was jerked awake by the pain of Wang Jun's monstrous member forcing its way into his channel. A naked Kyle was on his back on a vinyl-covered spongy cube identical to the one he'd last seen in use, his wrists cuffed down near the base of the cube on each side. His legs were being held wide on each side by Wang Jun's burly assistants. Wang Jun was standing between Kyle's spread legs. He'd already made the first breaching. He also was naked, and rolls of his fat were flopped down onto Kyle's belly. Kyle's own dick was lost in the folds of Wang Jun's fat, rubbing within the folds of Wang Jun's skin and engorging from the friction. Despite the fat, Wang Jun's torso was heavily muscled and his cock was big, thick, and vigorous.

"Ah, back with us, my little beauty, I see," Wang Jun said in a straining voice. "Good. I have you on your back, because I want to enjoy seeing your expressions at your first taking. You will make me much money tonight. I already have them lined up for first-night privileges. But owner's privilege. Me first. I must protect my customers. I must know you are fresh for them."

And with that and a guttural "Ugh," Wang Jun's plunger was in and exploring virginal territory. Kyle cried out and writhed against the assault. His muscles and the veins in his neck tightened up and his eyes went wild.

"Ah, yes," Wang Jun chortled, obviously very pleased. "I do believe that you have never done this before. Very tight, yes, Very sweet." And he began to pump slowly while Kyle gasped and moaned and groaned and strained at his bonds.

"Satisfy . . ." huff, huff, "my customers this well tonight . . .ahhhhh, and I will give you a premium cut."

And then it was over, and Kyle discovered that he had endured it—and that it didn't seem that bad.

He painfully rose off the cube and rubbed his wrists as he hobbled toward the slightly ajar gilded door in the moon gate. But he heard the chilling voice of Wang Jun behind him as he moved. He turned around and there Wang Jun was, rising and falling on the balls of his feet, the great slab of meat between his legs rock hard again. He was gripping a black leather sling of some sort at either end in a fist and he was smiling broadly. It was a plow belt, although Kyle certainly didn't know that, had no idea what a plow belt was for. He quickly found out, though.

"Oh, no my lovely. My prick isn't finished with you yet. Not quite yet."

Kyle turned to run toward the door, but the plow belt was whipped over his head and down to his belly, and he found himself doubled over and lifted off the floor by the tall Chinese monster close behind him. Wang Jun positioned his cock at Kyle's hole and again thrust deep inside, putting the sling into motion with the strength of his grip on the straps. As Wang Jun's assistant ushered prospective clients into the room to fan around the sides and watch, Kyle was swayed back and forth on Wang Jun's deeply lodged cock, as his writhing and cries of indignation and taken pain subsided into surrendered gurglings and whimperings of being beyond salvage.