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.

***

"It's a long journey back to the hotel. Good slave that you are, you wouldn't mind carrying our bags for us, would you, Prasang?" asked Martin. "They're quite heavy for a couple of old codgers like us."

Prasang drew in his breath, preparing to go back into degradation mode. "No master. I'm happy to carry my masters' bags. Please, let me carry them, sir."

Both men had brought big duffle bags with long shoulder straps. Prasang bowed his head as Gary positioned one diagonally across his right shoulder so that it rested on his left hip. Martin did the same on the opposite side.

Now sporting three bags, including the one from me strapped to his chest, he looked like a laden pack mule.

"Do they feel heavy, Prasang?"

Prasang shifted his weight from one leg to the other, getting a feel for them. "Yes, they're quite heavy, master."

Martin stepped forward and attached the cuffs on the boy's wrists back onto his collar so that his arms were bound.

"Try putting them down," he said.

Prasang did as he was told. He tugged on his cuffs and shifted his hips, trying to wriggle the straps down off his body, but they held fast.

He shook his head. "I can't put them down, master."

Martin smiled, his sadism revving up. "Good."

"I don't know, though," said Gary, "He still looks a little, well, naked if you ask me...if only we could dress him up a bit for the journey back."

I patted the bulging backpack on his chest. "This is his now, it's going with him. It's got thongs, tank tops, sheer shorts, all kinds of things to choose from. I chose clothes that make him seem naked even when he isn't, didn't I, Prasang?"

"Yes, master," Prasang said, "I'll...I'll still look naked in these clothes."

"He's your own little Ken doll to dress however you want."

The two men came and unzipped the bag on his chest. They began sorting through the risque articles of clothing, holding them up one at a time and commenting to each other.

"I do love the sheer shorts. We'll have to put those on him just as soon as his bum feels a bit better."

Gary took the green, transparent shorts and held them against Prasang's pelvis.

"Oh, he'll look wonderful in these," he said, "Quite a treasure trove, Jim, thank you."

"There's this, too, if you want him to wear it." I drew the black blindfold out of my pocket.

Gary's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, that's perfect, just what he's missing!"

He positioned himself behind the bag-laden Prasang and fitted the blindfold down over his eyes. "I..." Prasang began, but then thought better of it.

He looked wonderful blindfolded. Obscuring a slave's eyes drew immediate attention to his mouth, and Prasang had such a nice one.

"Can you see anything?" Gary asked.

"No, master. Oh...ah!"

Martin had taken his big, limp cock in hand and was drawing back the foreskin to reveal its plump, purple cock head.

"My word, but this is an extraordinary tool you've got, Prasang. My mind is still blown by that load of spoof you shot earlier."

Prasang started to blush, not quite knowing how to respond to this. "Th-thank you, master."

Martin weighed the boy's cock up and down in his hand. Even flaccid, it was still long and thick. He shook his head in wonder. "Just get a feel for the heft of this thing, Gary."

Still standing behind him, Gary reached down between Prasang's legs and seized a hold of his sore, swollen balls along with the base of his cock. "Oh...ah, XUY!"

Prasang's face twisted as Gary groped and massaged. He spread his legs wider and pulled at his wrist cuffs, but was otherwise powerless to lower his arms and stop the man's hands.

"Very impressive, indeed," said Gary, waggling his rubbery cock around by its base a few times, waving it at Martin.

"Who knew they grew things so big in Thailand? What on earth do you feed this thing, Prasang?"

Prasang smiled even as he struggled, his face blushing brightly. "I was-MMF! I was born with it, master."

He spread his legs out further in the sand as Gary stroked his shaft upward.

"No doubt you were, lad. Runs in the family does it?" Martin asked, cupping the front of his penis and sliding the loose foreskin backward and forward over the head.

His cock still looked red from having comed three times.

"May I ask, is your daddy as big as you are? Did you ever get a peek at him?"

Prasang's face blushed deeper.

"No need to feel embarrassed, Prasang, I got looks at my daddy plenty of times as a lad. He was a big fellow, too. Just want to know if you ever saw your old man naked is all."

Prasang swallowed down his discomfort as the two older men fondled his cock together. His body was so athletic and virile that he was starting to get hard again.

It should have been easier now than during his last orgasm, for he had not been spanked in a while and the clothespins were gone.

"Yes, master," he began to moan as they groped him. "My mother and sisters bathed inside...MMF. Me and my father bathed with the other men...at the river."

"Oh, so you saw him naked virtually every day, then?"

"(GULP) Yes, master."

"And is his cock just as big as yours?" Martin squeezed the sizable head like a nectarine.

Prasang's mouth turned downward at the edges. He gasped out his answer. "Yes, master...yes it is."

"And what about your granddaddy? As big as the both of you?"

"Yes, master."

Martin let out a hearty laugh and clapped Prasang on the back. "Good boy, that explains everything, doesn't it. He comes from a line of strong, fit Thai men, all hung like stallions. You should be proud of your lineage, Prasang. Do you feel proud?"

He moaned as both men continued to stimulate him. "Yes, master...ah...ah...Yes, I feel proud."

Now Gary spoke up. "So, Master Jim says you're our little Ken doll, is that right, Prasang?"

"Yes, master," he continued moaning.

Gary rested his bearded chin on Prasang's shoulder and spoke directly into his ear. "But I have to say, I was always partial to Barbie myself. Did you ever play with Barbies when you were a boy?"

Prasang cleared his throat awkwardly as Gary brushed his nose against his ear. "No, master."

"Oh, that is a shame, you didn't have any little dollies to play with?"

Prasang cleared his throat again. "My older sisters had dolls, master. I...I just wrestled with the other boys. We wanted to be fighters, sir."

"So, you had older sisters, did you?" Gary kissed his ear, then dabbed his warm, wet tongue into the hole. Prasang flinched. "Did they ever, say, try to doll you up a bit? Give you a makeover? Dress you up in their clothes? Girls like to do that to their younger brothers sometimes, don't they?"

Prasang's face was burning. The backpack rose and fell with his heaving chest. He shook his head like a muzzled horse. "No, master, no never!"

It came out a little more forcefully than he probably intended. Prasang had the patience of a saint, but it had been a very long and difficult day for him.

Gary chuckled at his little outburst. "Well, I do love this collar of course, you're very handsome in it. But you're such a beautiful boy, I would like to make you even more beautiful. Would you like me to help you feel beautiful, Prasang?"

"Umm...I." He wanted to answer his master, understood that he was supposed to answer, but didn't know what to say. He was clearly uncomfortable with all these questions and probably just wanted to sink into the ground.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow. Have a girls' day out," Gary half-whispered, planting light kisses on his ear. "I'm thinking a nice, fluffy slave collar for you. Something pink and posh like a little pussy cat would wear. And a little bell on the end so you'll make a tinkling sound when you walk."

He pinched Prasang's cheek like an auntie.

"That way we'll know where you are at all times. We wouldn't want to lose track of our pretty, pretty boy, would we, Martin?"

"Oh, that's the very last thing we'd want." Having gotten Prasang's cock almost fully hard again, Martin gave it a slap.

"OH!" His natural reaction was to pull away, but Gary held him fast by the arms.

Blind and bound as he was, Prasang was at the mercy of the two men and their roving hands.

Martin slapped his erection again, first the upside, then the downside. It stiffened and bobbed immediately back into place.

"Gary and I had a little discussion earlier while you were off with Master Jim. We've got plans for you, dear lad," Martin looked rather sinister as he bounced Prasang's hardon up and down.

"You've no idea what we have in mind for you. For the next month, we're not letting you out of our sight for even a minute, not a single, solitary minute are we, Gary?"

"Definitely not. We'd be simply beside ourselves if anything became of our dear little pussy cat." Gary couldn't hold back any longer. He enveloped Prasang's ear and began sucking it hungrily.

Prasang made a silent O with his mouth, almost unable to believe what was happening to him.

"Indeed. So, for the next four weeks, you go where we go. The toilets. The shower. We are three peas in a pod, is that clear, Prasang?" Martin was getting excited, too, his voice husky with lust.

"Yes, ma- UMF!" Prasang didn't have time to finish. Martin caught his luscious, pink lips in his own.

Gary behind him released his ear and kissed his way down his neck to his bare, brown shoulder.

The three of them moaned together. Martin forced out the Thai boy's sighs as he pushed his tongue deeper down his throat, all the while lightly dribbling his hard cock up and down. He went in so far that Prasang wretched and gagged around his tongue.

The two Australians touched themselves through their cargo shorts as they roved their captive's flawless, gleaming body.

All the while, I simply stood back and watched, transfixed at what was unfolding before me on this dark, empty beach with the waves crashing behind us.

In all my time with Scott, we had remained completely secluded in our activities. I had never met any other masters until now and, to my knowledge, neither had Scott.

That meant I did all the dominating myself. But I was fascinated (not to mention incredibly turned on) to watch other masters take charge of a slave while I simply enjoyed the show.

Only when Martin at last pulled out of Prasang's mouth did he turn his glazed eyes to me, standing nearby.

Now it was his turn to blush. He had fallen deep into the Prasang honey pot, something I understood was all too easy to do.

Even in his baggy cargo shorts it was clear he was a large man, possibly almost as big as Prasang himself.

He cleared his throat. "It's a long way back, we should really be on our way. Will you be joining us, Master Jim? Martin and I thought we'd avoid the walkway, use our lantern along the beach. You're more than welcome to join us."

The two older men stood on either side of their captive beauty, unable to keep their hands off him.

Prasang was still half-hard and panting from the assault of sensations on his body.

The three of them waited for my answer.

"I think two masters is company and three's a crowd," I said after a while. "I'll take the walkway and let the three of you get better acquainted. Prasang needs to learn your rules and what's expected of him. The sooner that happens, the easier it will be...for everyone."

Martin nodded, "Very well, then. In that case it was a great pleasure meeting you, Jim, don't know how we can ever repay you for giving us charge of this...rather extraordinary young man."

Martin slapped Prasang on his round, naked ass. "UMPH!" Prasang yelped, staggering forward a step or two.

"Oh dear me. I daresay those biscuits are cooling down a bit, if you don't mind, I do prefer mine to be piping hot."

He drew out his folded leather belt again. Prasang could not see him raising it behind him and would not anticipate it. I tried to brace myself on his behalf.

Martin brought it down hard. SMACK!

"AAAH!" Prasang cried out louder than I could remember hearing.

He tended to absorb the blows so well under normal circumstances. But he was already on edge around these two men and it was probably more due to alarm than actual pain.

He danced forward and simply collapsed onto his knees in the sand, buckling under the weight of all those bags, which had to weigh sixty pounds, at least.

Doubled over on the ground, Martin seized the shoulder straps criss crossing his back. "On your feet, slave!" He barked, the drill sergeant rearing its ugly head again. "One more or your naked bum. You can do it. Be a man, let's go!"

Gary helped Martin pull Prasang to his feet, his legs shaking like rubber bands as he rose. He groaned and whimpered through clenched teeth.

"Here we go, one more and we're done. Tighten that arse, boy!"

He raised the belt again and brought it down just as hard.

SMACK! "ARRF!" Prasang yipped like a wounded dog. "JING-JING!"

I feared he would just go down again, but he managed to stay up, dancing on the sand as though it was very hot.

Martin felt one burning cheek, then the other as Prasang sniffled. Tears of pain streamed down from beneath his blindfold. "That's more like it. I reckon we'll be able to grill cutlets on him, Gary."

I smiled at this rather awkward situation. "Just...don't be too hard on him. He's a good one, believe me, he is."

Martin nodded and shook my hand, still red in the face from his aggression. "We'll try to be worthy successors to you, won't we, Gary?"

"Indeed we will," I shook his hand as well.

I then went to the blind, panting Prasang. I put my hand on his shoulder and caressed his wet face. "Goodbye, beautiful Thai boy, enjoy your new masters. I know you'll serve..."

But I trailed off. He planted desperate kisses on my hand when I passed it over his mouth. He was shaking like a leaf and his face was a rather sickly yellow. He was wheezing through his breaths.

I turned to his masters, giving them that same awkward smile. The truth was, even I was a little bit afraid of Martin.

"Masters, could you give us just one more minute? It won't be long this time."

Martin was looking a little sheepish and put his belt away. "Of course, no hurry at all."

I took a hold of the backpack on Prasang's chest and led him out into the darkness under the palm tree where the three of us had eaten the plantain.

I raised the handsome boy's blindfold up onto his forehead. His black eyes glanced up at me, then quickly fell to the sand. His naked body was still trembling badly.

"Here, I should have thought of this before."

I unzipped one of the smaller pockets of my bag and dug around. I was relieved when my hand seized upon the little bottle of aloe vera gel I'd nearly forgotten about.

I had used it on Prasang a few times on this trip after walloping him especially hard. He surely needed it now worse than ever.

I held it before his eyes so he could see it. "I'm going to rub this on your sore buns, okay? I know they sting badly and it will hurt a little more when I do it, but in the end it will make you feel better, understand?"

Prasang sniffed. I noticed the dark bags under his eyes. "Yes, master."

"Rest your head on my shoulder, okay? I know how tired you are."

He lowered his chin onto my right shoulder, easy to do as I was taller than him.

I reached around behind him and drizzled gel, first on one cheek, then the other.

"Oh...xuy," he whined quietly.

I then touched my fingers to his burning globes as gently as I could and began spreading the gel.

"Mmf...xuy! Please!" He flexed his buns tight so that his glutes were hard as rocks beneath my touch.

I shushed him. "It's okay, you're okay." I lowered my voice and whispered into his ear so that only he could hear me. "Master Martin's a tough customer. When he spanks you hard, remember this gel in your bag, okay?"

I felt his chin move on my shoulder as he nodded. His face was nearly as hot as his ass to the touch.

He hissed as I trailed my way over the perfect curves of his ass. He clenched his buns even tighter.

"I know this is painful, but try to relax. Your hole still hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes, master, it hurts a lot."

"Try not to clench so hard, I'll make this quick."

He did as I asked, relaxing his ass again as I rubbed on the rest of the gel. He whined and whimpered against my shoulder.

I looked over at Martin and Gary in the lamplight. The two of them were sitting on a single beach chair, having a quiet conversation of their own.

"Also remember," I said in a still lower voice, "That your phone is in this bag. That your wallet with all that money is in this bag. And that your card for your bank account with a much bigger load of money is in this bag.

"You aren't really a slave, Prasang. You aren't trapped. You can get away if you have to. If it's...too much."

I felt him swallow against my shoulder.

The bag on his chest swelled between us like a cushion. I finished applying the gel and held him back at arm's length.

"Look at me. You need to keep this bag with you all the time while you're with them. You have to insist on it. It's the one power you cannot give away, understand?"

He nodded stiffly, still trembling in my grasp. I saw such fear in his eyes, likely trying to anticipate the trials still to come and what Martin and Gary's "many plans for him" could be.

I had seen the look on his face when Gary spoke of a "girls' shopping day" to make him "look pretty."

If indeed they planned to make him walk around in makeup and women's clothing, that would be a whole new level of degradation he had never dealt with before.

"Does your butt feel a little better?" I asked.

He nodded again, "It doesn't hurt as much...Master?"

"Yes, Prasang?"

He looked stricken. More tears were welling up in his eyes. "Can I...um...could I..."

I wrapped my arms around him, my fingers caressing his oily back.

"Prasang," I said, again speaking quietly into his ear, "You can't come back with me now. That money has already gone through. You need to go with them.

"It's going to be a hard month, you knew it would be. They want to do the same things to you that I did, maybe more.

"But they aren't going to cheat you. Remember how much they're giving you. That is going to change your life, your family's life, and you will be set. You will never have to do anything like this again.

"I heard you tell Gary you wanted to be a fighter when you were a boy. Well, you are a fighter, Prasang. Martin and Gary said it themselves. You are a champion.

"You are so strong and good-hearted and your master is very proud of you. Your mom and your sisters would be proud, too, if they knew what you were willing to endure for them."

This was probably the wrong thing to say. I felt his face start to burn anew.

"If they knew," he said, "If they ever knew...I would be dead to them."

I released him and looked at him. "But they aren't going to know. No one who knows you will see you. You are going to help them like the good man you are. So, just try not to worry. What was that thing you were doing earlier while I was helping Martin transfer the money? Some kind of meditation?"

"Vijja dhammakaya," he said, "Thai meditation."

"You've been doing that all along, haven't you? During your time with me?"

"Yes, master."

"Do it now, would you?"

He fixed his moist eyes to a specific point on the sand. His chest began to rise and fall and he parted his lips like before. Gradually, a look of calm came into his face and color started to return.

"There we go," I said, "Good boy. My good boy."

I looked over at Martin and Gary again. Their conversation had ceased and they were watching and waiting, probably getting a little impatient.