Thai Boy

Writer's note: This story contains dominance, submission, sadism, spanking, and humiliation in public places. Just a heads up in case that is not your cup of tea.

***

"Our boy has already come twice today. Two big loads of creamy boy juice. Isn't that right, Prasang?"

Prasang could not answer because he was wrestling with Martin's tongue down his throat. "RRMF...MMF!"

Martin tugged backward on Prasang's collar, forcing him to open his mouth wider and take him in all the way. His other hand had the boy's big, flaccid cock in his grip.

When Martin at last let up, Prasang had to gasp to catch his breath.

"Y-yes, master," he panted. "I came two times today already. MMF!"

Now Gary wanted his turn. He pulled Prasang's face toward him and their lips locked together, forcing the boy to make more muffled, gagging sounds as his tongue pushed in deep.

While Martin continued stroking his cock, Gary pulled down on three of the clothespins attached to his balls, making him heave and squirm as they made out. "RRMF!" His face turned red as Gary gagged him.

This had been going on for a good twenty minutes now. Poor Prasang was helplessly suspended between the two older Australian men who were ravenous for his delicious young body and could not get enough.

His legs were spread wide across their laps and he had to clutch the backs of their beach chairs to keep himself upright. His bare buns struggled and bobbed up and down between them, balanced precariously in midair with nothing to rest on.

I had been observing all of this with quiet fascination, occasionally taking my phone out to snap photos in the lantern light.

Prasang, with his muscular build and beautiful face, could probably have been a model or done TV commercials. Yet here he was, forced to serve and satisfy these two men who could have easily been his father and weren't anywhere close to his league. Neither, for that matter, was I.

Prasang moaned and gasped, his chest heaving and starting to shine with sweat during this strange and intense workout.

"Oh, now that is a shame," said Martin, ruddy in the face and trying to catch his own breath. "We would have loved to have seen him shoot."

Martin kept his hand around the struggling boy's tool, sliding the foreskin up and down to reveal the shiny purple cockhead.

The piss slit was so large that Gary decided to stick the tip of his pinky finger inside it and wiggle it around as they kissed. Prasang was already sore and protested through his locked lips.

"Well, he's a strong young bloke," Martin said. "Look, his cock's going hard again already."

"Hmm," I thought, stroking my chin. "We don't want to disappoint your new masters, do we, Prasang? What do you gents think? Would you like to see him come again?"

Martin lit up. "Oh yes, definitely! It's only fair as we missed it the first two times, isn't it?"

Prasang's eyes widened in alarm. "MMF-UMF." He tried to pull away from Gary, but Gary simply could not get enough and seized the back of his hair, holding his mouth hostage.

"And what say you, Master Gary," I asked, "Would you like Prasang to shoot his load for you?"

Gary at last released him and Prasang gasped hard, desperate to get some air in his lungs. The older man caressed his hair while the tip of his finger continued to probe the head of his cock.

"Nothing would please me more," Gary said, smiling at Prasang's dismay.

Obedient as Prasang was, he was shocked and bewildered at what we were saying.

For the past three weeks I had been using and abusing his body on a daily basis and I knew he was capable of coming multiple times within a short period. But that, of course, was in the beginning when I hadn't put him through anything as intense as what had happened today.

"Master, but...but, AH!" As Martin stroked him, Gary pushed still deeper into his piss slit, pinching the cockhead with his other hand to force the lips open.

I continued as if I hadn't heard him. "And would you guys prefer a little, spent burst or a big, steaming bucket?"

"Oh, big, steaming bucket, definitely," Martin said, "We'd love to take some home to Australia with us. A little taste of Thailand." He caressed Prasang's face, which was quickly going pale. "I expect to see nothing less than a river of your healthy Thai semen. Is that clear, Prasang?"

Martin squeezed Prasang's shaft, having gotten it semi-hard again, which made the blood rush up to the head where Gary wiggled his finger around inside.

"Well, there you have it, Prasang, you want to make your masters happy don't you?"

"Master..." he pleaded to me with his eyes. I knew what he wanted to say but didn't dare, especially in the presence of these older men he barely knew.

"Very well," I said, annoyed at his defeatist attitude, "Let's take a vote. All in favor of seeing Prasang come another bucketful, raise your hands."

Martin, Gary, and I all shot our hands into the air.

"And all opposed...?"

Prasang was silent, sitting there naked and helplessly pinned between his two captors.

"Oh, well, Prasang, looks like it's three against one. I'm afraid you lose. That means I want your big Thai cock hard and throbbing as it's ever been. I want you to fill one of these gentlemen's empty bottles of Victoria Bitter to the top. Is that clear?"

Prasang slumped. He looked helpless and afraid.

His buns, so sore from the many lashes and spankings we'd given him, were unable to touch the ground. Spread eagled as he was, I could see his pink hole, clenching and unclenching in the shadowy indentation between his thighs.

I saw him make a real effort to fight back his tears, but they came anyway, streaming down his handsome face.

Throughout the entirety of this trip, I had seen him shed a few tears of pain and humiliation, but he'd taken everything I had to throw at him, absorbing it without complaint.

This was the first time I'd ever seen him break down.

I was paying him more than he could ever have dreamed for the "experience" I asked him to provide. He took the job seriously and had more than exceeded my expectations.

Watching him now, it dawned on me that he was terrified of letting me down. He genuinely did not believe he could come a third time and did not want me to be displeased.

I came around behind him and leaned in, kissing and licking at his tears as they flowed. They were warm and salty on my tongue.

Martin and Gary let up on him a bit, as well. They patted his shoulders and caressed the delicate skin of his inner thighs. "There, there. You're alright, mate."

"Prasang," I said into his ear, "You want to please your masters, don't you?"

"I do, master, I do!" He cried. "I want to please you, master. Please, believe me!"

I shushed him gently, caressing his trembling chest and shoulders.

I lifted his chin so that his streaming eyes met mine.

"I want you to repeat after me. 'I am a good boyfriend and my master is proud of me.'"

Prasang looked at me for a second before his face fell and he broke down again. He shook his head back and forth like a dog in a muzzle. "No, no, master, no!"

"Stop crying," I said with more authority in my voice.

Prasang did his level best to compose himself, sucking the mucous back up into his nose.

"That's good," I said, cupping my hand under his jaw more firmly. "Now look me in the eye and say what I told you to say."

Prasang swallowed his grief down in one hard gulp and began. "I-I'm a good boyfriend...and my master is proud of me," he sniffled.

There was no conviction in his voice. "Say it two more times and I want you to say it so you believe it."

Prasang recited the words twice more as I told him to. When he finished the second time, a smile played at the edges of his mouth and it was clear he felt a little better.

"Now I want you to say this," keeping one hand under his chin, I reached down and found his spread, suspended hole. He grunted and flinched in surprise as I started rubbing two fingers over this most intimate part of his body. "'I don't need to worry because my master is going to help me get hard and come.' Repeat that."

The muscle clenched and unclenched under my caress. He drew in his breath and heaved again, though this time there was something underneath the sorrow. A moan.

His limp cock twitched in Martin's hand.

"I don't need to worry because... because my master is going to help me get hard and come..."

"That's it, good boy, say it again, Prasang."

Before long he was taking in deep, slow breaths. His cock was growing bigger as Martin stroked. I watched his eyes, satisfied when they began to glaze over with pleasure.

Prasang parted his lips and wetted them with the blade of his light pink tongue. Whenever a boy does that, it's a sign he's enjoying what he's feeling. He breathed in and sighed out the words, "I don't need to worry because my master is going to help me get hard and come."

"Good boy, that's my boy," I brushed my lips against his ear as I said it. I now began a light circular motion on the smoother than smooth skin of his hole.

At the end of the day, men and boys are all the same. If you want to train one to be your sex slave, you have to understand how to manipulate his body, through pleasure as well as through pain.

If I have learned anything from the boys I've trained, whether gay or straight, it's that their holes are the infallible gateway to genuine arousal.

Prasang moaned and purred gently. I increased the circular motion around his opening, tickling lightly now and then with the tip of my finger.

I felt his anal muscles loosen beneath me and open like a flower. He was responding to my touch and ready to accept entry.

His cock continued growing, snaking upward in Martin's grip.

I enveloped him in a kiss. Not a rape kiss a la Martin and Gary. It was deep, but sensual, and Prasang glided his own hot tongue over mine.

At the same time, my finger entered his hole. It was still moist from taking my thumb earlier and it slid in easily. He pulsated and clenched around it, though not as a means of resistance. His secret pink mouth was hungry and trying to coax me in further.

Despite his state of discomfort and all the painful stimuli inflicting his body, I was actually succeeding in pushing the right buttons and getting him aroused.

After a little while, I separated myself from him and withdrew my finger. There was a lot of work to be done in order to work him up to the big orgasm I promised his two new masters.

"Ready, boy?" I said, caressing his face. "Ready to come again big and hard?"

The tears had dried now, but he still looked fearful of the task that lay ahead. "I-I think so, sir..."

"Good!" I gave his face a light slap. "OOF," he said, more in surprise than pain.

"Let's get to it then!"

As Martin and Gary continued to rove his body and play with his cock, I went to my bag and found the bottle of oil.

I sat myself down in the sand directly behind Prasang, my nose inches from his muscular, tight bubble butt.

I watched it thrust and struggle, momentarily hypnotized. Prasang's quest to find a comfortable position for his stinging red buns was endless and completely futile, though from where I was sitting it was unbelievably erotic and getting me rock hard.

I pressed my face against one bun and then the other to test their warmth. His spanked flesh was so hot I nearly broke a sweat being close to it.

"Relax now, Prasang," I said, "I need to rim you to get you hard."

I slid my thumbs in between the cheeks and parted, exposing his hole. It quivered and winked at me as though in recognition and pleaded for more attention.

I drew in my breath and pressed my hot, wet tongue to up against it. "OH...OHHHH" Prasang moaned.

I licked and sucked greedily. I flicked my tongue rapidly back and forth like a cat drinking milk.

I did a combination of all three movements: Licking, sucking, and flicking with my tongue. When I felt him open himself up to me again, I clasped both his legs and pushed my face deeper in.

I locked myself to his hole like it was the mouth of my most intimate lover. I could have gone on for hours that way.

"UUUUH...OH...OOH, man rusuk di mak!" Went Prasang, slipping into his native language.

It wasn't easy, but at last I pulled away to inspect my handiwork. His hole had gotten big and spongy under my skillful attention.

I took the bottle of oil and drizzled it over my index finger until it was slick and shiny. After a little bit more tickling and teasing of the engorged flesh, I slid my finger inside of him.

Prasang let out an almost comical moan of gratitude as I fed him the very thing I had gotten him hungry for. There was no resistance whatsoever as I slid in all the way up to the knuckle.

Balanced between the chairs, Prasang moved up and down with my finger as it pressed against his prostate.

When I had my finger up him as far as it would go, I went in for the coup de gras. I got up on my knees and slid the blade of my tongue up and down the open crack of his ass. I licked the engorged pink flesh around his hole even as it took in my finger.

"OH...OOOOOHH!" Prasang moaned, overwhelmed by the feeling, "Ai, xo thirak chi!"

"How's he looking up there, fellas?" I asked Martin and Gary.

They had been in charge of his cock this whole time. Their fingers were interlaced, sliding up and down his shaft as a single entity.

Sadly, despite my finger and tongue skills, Gary was unimpressed.

"You've made a valiant effort, sure enough, Jim, but I'm afraid our young friend here remains at half mast. Just too tired, I reckon."

I leaned over and observed the situation myself. Indeed, Prasang's dick was big and probably nearly there, but it had a rubbery quality about it, not stiff like it should have been.

There was, of course, a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Prasang's cock was sore and spent. Even at nearly full arousal, you could see it was inflamed with painful red streaks running through the shaft.

Besides, pleasurable as my mouth and finger had been for his hole, the pleasure still had to fight against the pain: The clothespins, his spanked ass.

Lastly, there was the fact that Prasang was doing this for money and money alone. He was not a natural masochist in the same way I was a natural sadist, which meant the pain worked against rather than for his arousal.

I sighed. "Your new masters aren't very impressed with you, Prasang. That reflects on me as a master, too. I think we're going to have to take things to the next level."

I looked around, wondering what to try next when my eye fell on the fruit tray Martin and Gary had been sharing with us.

One of the bananas the bartender had given them was, to say the least, formidable. I blinked, not believing my eyes at first. It had been lying under some of the other fruit we were force feeding Prasang and I hadn't noticed it before.

A devilish shudder went down my spin and my cock stirred.

I tapped Gary on the shoulder and gestured to the banana. He picked it up by the stem and dangled it above him. It was even bigger than I realized. From where I sat, it appeared to be about ten inches long, its diameter just a centimeter or two short of a cucumber's. It was not the typical yellow of a cavendish, but lime green. It ran moist with juice from other fruit.

"My, my, but would you get a load of this beauty. How could we not have thought of it before, Martin?"

Martin adjusted his glasses and inspected it. "That's no banana, that's some kind of plantain hybrid, though why the man would give us one of those I have no idea. He must have some sixth sense, understood it might come in handy for us this evening."

Gary lined it up against Prasang's (almost) hard cock and whistled, impressed. The two were almost the same size, with Prasang still needed to do a little growing.

"Oh yes," Martin nodded back at me, "I think this'll do the trick. Just what the doctor ordered."

Prasang's eyes bulged at the sight of the plantain. I was amused as it dawned on him what we were planning to do.

Up to then, he had had, at most, two fingers in his ass (Gamon and I double finger fucked him back at Sexy Guy, which made him spurt beautifully). He had never taken anything even close to this size before.

The poor boy began his pitiful, stumbling protests again.

"W-wait, master, please, I can get hard! I'm almost there, really! I can (GULP) I can make myself big and hard for you!"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Prasang," I said. I rubbed over his tattooed back and moved my finger soothingly in his hole. "We need to get you hard and my best efforts aren't working. We're going to have to do something extreme."

Eyeing the mutant plantain in Gary's hand, Prasang started trembling all over. He was having an actual physical reaction to his fear of this thing. I couldn't entirely blame him.

"What's wrong, Prasang?" I slid my finger out of him, stood up and wrapped my arms around his chest. I rested my chin on his shoulder. The warmth of his quivering body felt good in the cool night air. "Tell me. Talk to your master. Why are you so scared right now?"

His chest heaved beneath me. I could sense the tears coming again. "Please...please, don't put that inside me, master. It-it's so big, sir. I'll get hard for you. I'll come big for you. Please..."

"But Prasang," I said, reaching down and stroking his cock, which was falling more and more limp by the second, "You said before you couldn't come again, remember? And I tried to help you but you still couldn't get hard..."

I caressed his cock sympathetically as he trembled. His teeth started to chatter against each other. "You see, Prasang, you can't even do it now. But I want you to get hard and you want to do whatever please your master, don't you?"

His tears came for the second time. "Please don't, master," he wept, "Please, don't put that in me..."

I wiped his hot tears with my thumb, then inserted it into his mouth. "Suck on this nice and slowly, Prasang." He did as I said, sucking tenderly even as new tears rolled down his face.

"Remember our agreement, Prasang?" I said into his ear. I flicked one of the clothespins in his left nipple upward a few times. "Remember what you told me? You said you'd submit completely to my will, to anything I would ask you to do, no matter what it was. Remember that?"

He did not respond, only continued to suck miserably at my thumb. He knew me well enough to know my mind was made up about this and his fate was sealed.

I wiped more tears from his face and had him suck them away. "Remember those two lines I taught you earlier? I want you to say them again now."

I pulled my finger out so he could speak. He shook his head weakly.

"Say it, Prasang."

"I'm a good boyfriend and my master is proud of me..."

"That's right, Prasang. You're a good boy. A very good boy and you make your master proud." I gave him a kiss on the cheek where I had struck him earlier. "And the other line?"

"Please, master..."

"Say it!" I was growing impatient with his sulking now.

He drew air in his full breath and recited. "I don't need to worry because my master is going to...to help me get hard and come."

"That's right, Prasang, you just leave it all to me. It's not going to be as bad as you think. We won't start with the banana, we're going to work our way up to it, understand? You've already had two fingers inside of you and this banana is only three fingers at the most, so we'll start with that."

The banana/plantain was, without question, thicker than three fingers, but I didn't want Prasang to know that. He'd find out soon enough.

I sat back down and applied oil to my index, middle, and ring fingers. I bunched the three of them together into a curved claw, emulating the shape of the fruit, and pressed them to his hole. "Deep breaths, Prasang. We've already got your anal muscles nice and loose so they'll go in easier. Remember to push against me when I enter you."