Writer's note: This story contains dominance, submission, gay-for-pay, spanking, and humiliation in public places. Just a heads up in case that is not your cup of tea.
***
The next day, we stopped into a trendy-looking clothing store simply called "Sexy Guy." It sounded like the perfect place to fit my boy with more hot outfits.
The humidity in Bangkok was like a soup and beads of sweat sat heavy on my brow like flies. I sighed with relief as we entered the glacial, air-conditioned store. It was like diving head first into a cool, refreshing swimming pool.
There were racks going up to the ceiling featuring flashy, clubbing-style clothes. Techno music blared over the speakers, though the place was more or less deserted. It was still early afternoon and likely too hot even for locals to be out shopping.
Two young clerks, Thai men of about Prasang's age, put their hands together and bowed as we came in. They were slim and feminine, their hipster hairstyles dyed bright pink and yellow with fringes that hung in their eyes.
They were both adorned with rings and chain necklaces and wore heavy mascara. Their shredded jeans and shimmering, button-up tops made them look fresh off the city's gay clubbing scene.
When they laid eyes on Prasang, trailing in behind me in his revealing tank top and transparent trainer shorts, arms full of my shopping bags (he always carried everything for me, the way a good boyfriend should) they were stunned.
Walking around with someone as physically attractive as Prasang, you get a lot of people staring, gawking, doing double takes, or just stopping dead in their tracks to get an eye full, especially in the scant outfits I made him wear.
As per usual, I led Prasang back to the dressing room. It was his job to wait there and look pretty while I dressed him in whatever outfits I might enjoy seeing him in.
Once he put down all our bags, arranging them awkwardly on the dressing room floor so they wouldn't fall over, I stripped him naked and told him to stand facing the mirror: legs spread, biceps flexing, tight, round buns swaying back and forth at all times. I drew back the curtain, not overly concerned if the clerks at the front desk caught a glimpse of the good stuff, and went out, the cool air and techno beat enveloping me.
The two young fashionistas were staring at the drawn curtain with open fascination. I couldn't help but chuckle. They were amazed by Prasang and looked at me in awe, clearly wondering what the secret was to the power I held over him.
Wicked ideas were already brewing in my head and my cock was stirring.
I strolled right up and introduced myself, shaking their hands with exaggerated American pomp. The boy with the fluorescent pink hair introduced himself as Chakrii. The lemon-yellow blonde was Gamon. I engaged them in conversation as though we were old friends, telling them about myself, how long I had been in Thailand, and what a damn good time I was having. Like many Thais, Chakrii and Gamon spoke eloquent, flowing English.
But of course, their eyes kept drifting back to what was on all of our minds: The oh-so-thin curtain of that dressing room and the brown, bare feet spread wide behind it.
"Of course, I'm not here for me," I said, finally changing the subject. "I'm here for my boyfriend, Prasang. He's just back there waiting for me to come and dress him in something new and sexy..." I leaned in, my voice dropping an octave, "He'll wear anything I ask him to. He loves to make me happy, you know..."
Their eyes widened in disbelief again. It was almost comical. "He...he is YOUR boyfriend?" Gamon asked, trying to sound incredulous, but obviously impressed by what I had managed to snag.
"Oh yes," I grinned like the Cheshire cat, "He's crazy about me...can't get enough of me, isn't that right, Prasang?" I called back. Behind the curtain, he would be busy flexing and working his naked buns like a good sex toy even if we could not see it.
I heard an "OOF" escape his lips when I called to him, as though I had just spanked him with my words. "Please, answer so that my friends here can hear you..."
There was a moment's hesitation, then his sensual, masculine voice responded: "Yes, of course master...yes, I'm crazy about you..." He could assuredly hear everything we were saying from back there, which I knew made it all the more embarrassing for him. "I'm always thinking about you..."
Chakrii and Gamon looked at each other, clearly not sure what to make of all this. I was pleased to see a smile break out on one face, then the other. Whatever was going on with me and Prasang, they liked it.
"He is something, though, isn't he?" I said in the same confident manner, "I was wondering if you could find me some things that might look good on him, shorts and tank tops are mainly what I'm looking for. He doesn't usually wear underwear..."
At the very thought of Prasang walking around without undergarments, Chakrii let out a sigh, which Gamon mimicked. Then, clearly a bit stiff in their pants, they got to work pulling things off the racks.
I began, as I had before, going in and out of the dressing room with clothes, dressing and undressing my Adonis, moving briskly as I went to the beat of the techno music.
Prasang remained obediently quiet and in position the whole time. I could feel the eyes of the two clerks all but burning a hole through the curtain, desperate to get a glimpse of my boy's tantalizing bare flesh.
The danger of getting caught in public was thrilling enough, but having a captive audience for Prasang was a new experience that made my body tingle and my heart race. My cock was pitching a sizable tent in my cargo shorts at the thought of putting him on display, not just for my enjoyment, but that of others.
I started to make it into a game to tease the boys, leaving the curtain drawn back a little farther each time I went in or out, exposing a flexing, muscular arm or a shapely, hairless leg. Chakrii gave a gasp of delight when I finally gave them a quick flash of Prasang naked in full. The two of them chatted excitedly and not too quietly.
As I slipped a silky, lime-green clubbing shirt over Prasang's head, he looked at me, pleading with his big black eyes. He was blushing deep crimson. Of course he could hear everything they were saying about him. They seemed to have caught onto the fact that he was at my command and were more than happy to join in.
I grinned at my nervous, flexing beauty, gave his arm a squeeze for encouragement, then drew the curtain wide open. Prasang was now completely exposed in the air-conditioned store to the leering eyes of the clerks and to anyone else who might walk in.
Prasang swallowed hard. I looked down to see his cock growing hard and flexing upward toward me. He was embarrassed, but obviously excited by the whole thing, as well. This was not such a far cry from how I had first seen him that night on stage at Male Body Palace, where he had clearly enjoyed showing off his body.
