The story I'm about to tell is not a fiction. Every word of it is a true account of a very personal experience - although, due to the particularly confused nature of my recollections, the linearity of the telling may be incorrect in places. And I realise that the majority of erotic fiction writers will typically try and convince you, the reader, that their stories exist as retellings of actual events, but on this occasion the required suspension of disbelief is unnecessary. Whether you are inclined to believe me or not, everything that follows actually happened, in its entirety, with not one word of hyperbole, exaggeration or fakery. That realisation for some may be rather disturbing. Either for what it is in itself, or the fact that the same extremity, one where both physical and emotional harm was committed against a real person, causes significant sexual arousal. If the former, then this is probably not the story for you. If the latter, then worry not, for I myself suffer from the very same emotional paradox. Simultaneously horrified by the memory of this experience yet also incredibly aroused by it, by putting this story into writing I am, in part, attempting to make sense of and consolidate these very disparate emotions.
The story is framed then by a summer spent in Southeast Asia, around a decade ago. The two days that the events therein specifically relate to occurred somewhere within a largely unknown corner of suburban Bangkok. How it came to pass that I ended up there, I have no idea. I had been hitting the centre of town with friends but, as was often the case, I made my excuses and headed off somewhere on my own. Not that I didn't enjoy the company of my group of SEA friends. They were a great bunch of guys. It's just that when I find myself in a foreign culture I like to experience it, and you can't do that sitting with a large bunch of guys of a similar background. When you're on your own the locals start making more of an effort to talk to you and, if you are lucky, take you temporarily under their wings: and that's when the best extra-cultural experiences usually happen. Usually.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up in a tiny side-street bar; the only farang (Caucasian foreigner) in a very Thai bar full of young and lively local night-owls. Food was being eaten, karaoke being sung, and the dreadfully effective native whisky being consumed in overwhelming quantities. It wasn't long until I was invited into one of the more active of the groups present, the usual chronic shyness of the Thai people overcome by the liquor they were pouring down their necks as they tried out their rudimentary English upon me. I was happy to let them do this in return for their company and the experience of seeing Bangkok through the familiarity of their experienced eyes. The group consisted mainly of guys, with a couple of ladyboys also, and a very attractive young lady whom I immediately made a point of sitting next to and trying my best half-competent Thai chat-up lines upon. I was, at that time, fairly fluent in the language. Happily she responded, although god knows why considering the ever increasing state of inebriation that I found myself sinking into. Between flirting with her, and the laughs I was having with the rest of the ensemble, I had a whale of a time and didn't regret my decision once to ditch my friends and move on.
It got to around midnight and the girl I had been practising my intoxicated charms upon, along with one of the ladyboys, got up to leave. Disappointed, I asked her if she didn't want to stay for another drink, to which she replied she was going to a house party with her friend and I was welcome to join them if I wished. I played with the idea of going our separate ways for all of 16 billionths of a second, before jumping to my feet in a rather wobbly fashion and heading out on to the street with them both to look for a taxi. In fact, I was so wobbly that I had to hold onto them to steady myself, and, as I got into the first taxi that eventually found us, thought "I might need to give the next few drinks a miss"...and that was the last thing I thought for a while.
I awoke in the dark, and when I say dark, I mean black. Shapes moved around me. Vague images that I assumed were human but barely so, distorted by my own delusional mind. Hands, how many I couldn't say, moved around my head and body. Some hands were gentle, some were rough. Some pawed at my clothes, shoes and valuables. Some gently caressed my face and thighs. Others were protruding and pointedly intrusive, causing discomfort and occasionally even mild pain. I couldn't move, couldn't resist them. It was like one of those nightmares where you are paralysed or move so slowly as for any movement to be negligible. The attentions of those hands continued unabated with their varying degrees of intrusiveness and I prayed they would stop. I couldn't fight back and I was entirely at their mercy. Whispers were swapped, and the hands colluded to turn me over on to my front. I felt something placed in my mouth that stopped my jaw from closing, and my belt was loosened. I stirred a little feeling a little strength returning to me. One pair of hands felt this too and covered my mouth with cloth, stinking of some chemical infusion. Then the buzzing began, and I lapsed again into unconsciousness only dimly aware of the fingers that entered me and clawed at my insides as I fell into an induced slumber.
I awoke this time in the corner of a dimly lit room, unsure whether I actually was awake at all, or whether this was just a continuation of what I now assumed was a dream. There was no furniture present, apart from a mattress that I was lying upon, otherwise it was clear that this was not the kind of place that people carried out their normal daily lives within. The whole interior was grubby looking and uncared for.
Three people sat in the centre of the room, congregating around a bag of sticky rice and barbecued meat that they picked at whilst conducting quiet conversation. I had only opened my eyes so far, a fuzzy confused feeling in my head and what seemed like lead in my veins making it hard for me to move, but I made an effort, a feeble one, to stir from my slumbering position. I could tell they had registered the movement but chose not to acknowledge it, and continued as they were. At this point I became aware of three things. Firstly, that I was not the only person lying on that mattress. There was another body lying alongside me against the wall that I could sense rather than see, not feeling up to the effort of turning my body to confirm the fact. Secondly, the feeling of weakness I was experiencing was more than simple fatigue, to the extent it was actually debilitating. I thought about getting up and wandering over to the three diners to join them at their meal, in my confused state, but soon realised that I wouldn't be able even if I wanted to. The third thing I realised, which even in my disoriented state registered as something to cause alarm, was that I was entirely naked except for a small towel which had been draped over my groin.
Luckily, whatever was flowing through my system - a potent combination I now believe of alcohol, crystal meth and chloroform - dulled my senses enough to dissolve any trace of panic, and I floated off instead to an inner peace, actually finding comfort in my exposed state and the feel of my nakedness. The body behind me stirred, and I could tell that it too was in a similar state of undress, the feeling of skin on skin comforting me also, for no other reason that it appealed to at a very essential level of my being - like an infant must feel when a mother's hand strokes its hair. Even so, my body responded reflexively to the need to perform a visual appraisal of my physical state and I was pleased to see that no obvious harm had been done. In fact, the only cause for concern was a slight stinging feeling in and around my ass, and the dry streaks of semen that mysteriously adorned my chest and stomach. These concerns were swiftly dissolved in my relaxed state, however, and I thought no more about them.
Letting myself be further absorbed into the meditative stupor I was currently experiencing, I now rested my eyes upon the group in front of me. It consisted of one large framed man, an equally large framed ladyboy, and a tiny petite ladyboy, who was easily pretty enough to perform in one of those Kathoey Cabarets that Bangkok is so famous for. She was patting and stroking a dog as she ate, a Thai Ridgeback, her eyes now occasionally drifting over in my direction. The stronger framed ladyboy also allowed herself to notice me now, fleeting eye contact swiftly becoming an outright stare. I smiled at them both, trying to make the best of the situation. The larger of the two was smoking and she gestured towards me with her cigarette - offering it to me I guessed. I nodded and she got to her feet, came over to me and kneeled by my side while she put the cigarette to my lips. I don't know why, being a non-smoker, but I drew on it deeply - once, twice, three times - and was entirely unprepared for the explosion of fire that it shot with unprecedented vigour mercilessly into my veins. My heart started racing furiously and my loins simply exploded with an uncontrollable, unexplainable and overwhelming feeling of lust. In a moment, my thought patterns had changed from a vaguely fuzzy feeling of mild concern and happy bewilderment to an insane obsession with sex. I needed to fuck, anyone, anything and I pleaded with the room to help me.
"Fuck me!" I begged. And I begged again and again, my pleas falling on amused and unconcerned ears. I looked them all in the eye and repeatedly begged them to service my all-consuming lust. They just laughed and smiled, taking great amusement from my weakened and fuck fuelled state. I was desperate for some, any, form of sexual contact, completely abandoned to the utter debasement that the contents of the cigarette had subjected me to, in tandem with my already confused and semi-delirious state. The petite ladyboy laughed out loud.
"Please..." I begged, focusing my attentions entirely upon her now, but she just licked her lips from a distance to tease me, rubbing at a cock that was starting to swell beneath her skin-tight jeans as she did so. She was driving me crazy, and I was desperate to join in. Summoning enough strength from somewhere, somehow, to raise my head off the mattress and brace my arms underneath me, I made to get to my feet. The larger ladyboy, alerted by by my efforts, efforts which she obviously hadn't expected me to be able to make, jumped to her feet, and motioning for the guy to help her hastened over to my side and forced me back onto the mattress.
The chemicals that knocked me unconscious before must have been brought into play again, but this time I couldn't remember anything about them. I awoke in the dark once more. Dark, but not as dark as the first time. This time, the cheap flimsy blinds that adorned the window let in enough street light so, that after a few seconds adjusting to the low light levels, I was able to see around me with relative ease. And I saw that I hadn't moved. I was in exactly the same place as before; on the same mattress in the same grubby room, a towel over my nether regions and the three who had been there earlier, mysteriously absent. Or maybe not mysteriously. I realised that it must be very late indeed and they'd probably all just gone to bed. Which also meant there was no one keeping me here. I raised myself up on my elbow, with some difficulty, and looked towards the door, only 10 to 12 feet away from where I lay. My shoes lay at the foot of a door and my clothes lay draped over a chair that stood next to it. I was weak, very weak, but I might be able to get dressed and get out.
"You can't go", said a voice next to me. I had forgotten about the presence of that other person. "They lock from outside". From the broken voice and broken English, I knew straight away who the voice belonged to - a Thai ladyboy I was guessing - and I turned to see for myself. My suspicions were correct. A slim, very attractive lady boy, was lying on the mattress next to me, also raised up on one elbow, and quietly appraising my appearance in return. She was naked except for a black bra that only just covered her small breasts, and a matching pair of panties.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I nodded, then pointed to the door, "We can't get out?"
"No", she replied, "they lock outside so we must stay."
"Who are they?" I asked.
"Bad ladyboy" she replied. "They bring you last night."
