Warning: This story contains explicit non-consensual sex scenes between transsexuals and men. If this sort of content offends you please do not read it.
*
The country was one of the many critically poor Asian countries that welcome foreigners with a lot more than open arms. In the rural fields they grew the usual subsistence tropical crops of rice, exotic fruit and palm trees. These fields were dotted with small dark skinned men in wide brimmed hats working slowly but methodically under the harsh and baking sun. Education was not a right there, it was a rare privilege given just to the children from rich families and to the very bright who were fortunate enough to find a sponsor. The cities attracted the tourists, and the tourists attracted the children of the poor farming families. These uneducated and inexperienced youngsters flocked to the cities with dreams of wealth, and with grand plans that consisted mostly of working hard, doing well and sending money back to their impoverished parents. The physically attractive ones usually ended up in the bars renting their bodies to the ugly but rich foreigners for a half hour, and hour or a night. The unattractive ones were preyed upon by the unscrupulous city businessmen who hired them into sweat shops as virtual slave labour. Nobody did anything about it, because that was just the way it was.
The city was vibrant and exciting at night. The noisy sweat soaked streets were lit by garish neon signs, the rhythmic thumping of the dance music and the refreshing spray of a mist of water enticed the unsteady half-drunk tourists into the cool air conditioned bars where the scantily clad girls plied their trade. The smell of the streets mingled the mouth-watering odour of the freshly cooked food in the kerbside stalls and the rancid reek of decaying rubbish. Any foreign men walking past were constantly beckoned from the cool doorways, 'Massage mister?' the strident exotic voices cried enticingly over the din of the cars, the motorbikes, the spruiking stall holders and the general hubbub of the streets.
Genuine massages were very rare, these girls only wanted to massage the money out of the men's wallets using whatever method they had to employ. Sex in this city was a not for pleasure, it was a very busy and lucrative business. Half obscured shapes waited in the darker shadows, calling with rougher voices and more desperation. These were the less attractive working girls, the old, the ugly, the diseased and the scarred. In certain areas young men were available for those who preferred that sort of company and somewhere in between were the lady boys, the mostly female looking sex workers who usually had fake breasts and a penis tucked up out of sight. Many a time an unwary tourist didn't manage to pick the difference and got quite a surprise when they went to his room. Even at night he streets of the city were safe enough if the tourist stayed in the bright lights, with the biggest risks being a stolen wallet, a working girl absconding before completing her side of the bargain ('I must ring my sister, I will come straight back...' was one of the usual tricks used) or a Policeman who was short on cash and who saw an opportunity when an unsuspecting tourist dropped his cigarette butt or drink bottle amongst the piles of rubbish in the street. Nobody did anything about it, because that was just the way it was.
There were two normal types of tourist in this, the sleaziest part of town. There was the lone male, usually middle aged and less than handsome, and often either married or newly divorced. He was there for the ego boost of being the one the pretty girls all wanted, and he often spent a lot of time drinking, and buying 'lady drinks' (usually extremely expensive coloured water) before finally choosing a girl to leave with. Despite the optimistic name for the drinks he wasn't really interested in a lady, he just wanted a whore. Often he drank so heavily that when he did eventually choose he couldn't perform anyway.
Some of these lone men were specifically searching for the boys or the lady boys. These men were bored with plain 'vanilla' sex and wanted something new, something different. The exciting, exotic and anonymously remote location combined with the copious quantities of alcohol tended to relax their deep seated inhibitions, and allowed them to explore their curiosity. Most of the first type of tourists regretted every morning what they still continued to do that and every night.
The second type of tourists travelled in packs. Usually much younger these men were often more interested in just 'having a good time'. A good time mostly consisted of copious quantities of alcohol (again) and something interesting to watch, usually a show of some sort involving nudity and preferably vaginal gymnastics as well. The second type of tourist was more rowdy, more aggressive and tended to spend less. Both types of tourist generally didn't care about the local people's customs or the laws of the country, and almost always treated everyone badly. Nobody did anything about it, because that was just the way it was.
The group of five men stood out from a distance. Their immaculate dress uniforms were designed to do that anyway, but these men turned the uniform into something else. Something ominous. Even when drunk these men carried themselves with an air of athletic confidence that was bordering on menace. People got out of their way as they approached and the seething masses of humanity who were crowded onto the footpaths parted in front of them as if by magic. The men were large too. Large in height, large in bulk and exceptionally large in presence. They proudly wore the badges that labelled them the elite of their service, the crème de la crème. But superior combat training does not always instil common sense, and these men were half drunk, frustrated and angry. It was their last night in town and they were bored with it. They were bored with the nightclubs, bored with the strip joints, bored with the sex shows and bored with the fawning local population who seemed to be endlessly focussed on their now severely depleted wallets. They wanted a fight and a last roll with a whore before returning to duty, but neither seemed to be likely. The local people would not stand up to them in a fight and the pretty girls disappeared as soon as they realised there was no money left to be had, and all they were going to get was roughly felt up in public. Nobody did anything about it, because that was just the way it was.
Most foreign people kept away from the dark alleys, they had a dangerous reputation. But the five men were sick of the constant crowds and totally unafraid, so they stalked through the back streets, laughing derisively as shadows approached and then shrunk away rapidly.
"Useless fucking country," one shouted at a departing figure, "and useless fucking people too."
"Yeah," another agreed, "just a bunch of little brown chicken shit losers."
It was bad luck for the girl on the doorstep of her own run down home that she had chosen that moment to take a break from her school books and step outside where there was a slight breeze, but she saw the men coming, shrieked loudly and ran. Without thinking the men responded and took off in pursuit. The chase was swift and brief. The girl stumbled and fell, and the five men pounced on her.
Even then things didn't have to turn out badly.
"What should we do with this one?" one man asked as they held the tiny squirming body.
"Spank her and send her home?" another laughed, keeping a hand firmly over her mouth to stop her from screaming. Most of them laughed with him, but one man's hand had strayed as he held her, and he had found an area that was warm, soft and inviting.
"I've got a better idea," he said quietly, and the others turned to listen.
The men instinctively chose a good defensive position when they dragged the girl away. They found a short, dark alley with just the one way in. They had two men on guard, two men to restrain the girl and keep her from making noise while the first one, the one whose idea it had been, raped her. Then they swapped and another man took his turn. Then another. They knew that nobody would do anything about it, because that was just the way it was.
But even the meek have unlikely heroes.
There were still a few local people going about their business who walked past the end of the alley, so the small group of working girls in short dresses who were heralded from afar by the clicking of high heels on the paving did not worry the two men standing in the shadows. They eyed the approaching girls with only partial interest, each idly selecting in his mind the one that they would most like to fuck, choosing from vaguely distinguished figures, hairstyles and the way they walked. Neither of them sensed any danger, so when the Tasers hit them they collapsed in surprise without any resistance. One of the men holding the victim saw the movement and whispered the alarm to the others, but as they turned five more girls with Tasers were standing between them and the exit. It was over in moments, and one of the rescuers went to comfort the whimpering, sobbing victim.
"It is all over now," she whispered gently in their own language as she helped the girl to try to fix her ripped dress, "at least it is for you."
Within moments the five large men were securely trussed with cable ties, gagged and hooded. A small crowd had gathered at the end of the alley, but it was made up entirely of working girls, and they shielded the weakly struggling forms in the alley from the view of any other passers-by. A small bottle and a cloth soon arrived, and this put a halt to any struggles. About ten minutes later a small van stopped across the entrance to the alley. It progressively got lower and lower to the ground as the gang of girls struggled to manoeuvre the not inconsiderable dead weight of the unconscious men in through a side door. The van poured blue smoke into the night as it struggled to pull away, and the smell of burning clutch and burning oil lingered as the crowd dispersed as quickly as it had appeared. The five men had been overpowered and abducted. Nobody did anything about it, because that was just the way it was.
Rob was the last of the men to regain consciousness, and like the others he was initially dazed and disoriented. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry enough for his tongue to swell. He realised he was naked and lay face down across a sturdy bench that only supported his stomach. His wrists and ankles were secured to rings in the floor; a wide strap held his torso firmly to the bench and a gag prevented him from talking. He turned his throbbing head and saw the other men were all secured in the same way and they were arranged in a circle facing in toward each other. Rob tested the restraints that held him, and found no give at all. He was trapped. The room they were in was easily large enough to fit them all in, with plenty of space to spare, and it was lit by four single globes dangling in stained cloth shades that cast strangely shaped shadows across the captive men. The floor was vibrating from a relentless techno beat that sounded like it was coming from the next room. He could faintly hear voices behind the music, and it sounded like there was a party going on. Finally he remembered the events that had gone before, and he wondered how long ago that was, because he had obviously been drugged and didn't know how long he had been out.
Suddenly Rob felt the fear that he now recognised in the eyes of the others, and this was an emotion that none of them was familiar with. He knew that there would be people out looking for them eventually, but that might take some time. First they would be listed as AWOL, and the normal searches of the bars and massage parlours would start. It would be quite a few days before anyone was actually worried for their safety. He felt the pain in his muscles where his whole body had clenched. Rob had never been hit with a Taser before, and he couldn't believe how debilitating it had been, he had totally and instantly lost control of any deliberate movement, and had been rendered completely helpless. Despite his extensive training in unarmed combat he had been easily beaten by an untrained skinny whore who was probably only about a quarter of his weight. Now he couldn't do anything about it, and that was just the way it was.
