The Travelogue Of Katia Thornwood — Part 9

If one night in Bangkok makes the hard man humble and Ben was not a hard man to begin with, then a night in Patpong had made him more than humble — and he was about to sink even lower. It was 10:15am and I was enjoying my second coffee of the morning in the corner of the quiet lounge of my hotel. Under the shimmer of grand chandeliers, a pianist played the end of a jazz set as a slow trickle of tourists filtered out into the streets beyond at the end of breakfast. From my private vantage point, through earphones, I watched the recording from the night before. Ben, cowed and accepting in front of the American, mouth opened. His stifled moans and retching sounding out between the American’s alternating abuse and encouragement.

“That’s it… you little whore. Want to drink some of daddy’s juice? Beg for it… beg for it…”

Ben had done a good job. Not that Roger, the American, gave him much time to beg. I suppose it had been more of a rhetorical question. The black, mascara-stained tears running down Ben’s cheeks in the low light added a touch of delicacy to the sordid situation. From the way Ben swayed in the video, completely at the mercy of his Master’s lust, it was clear that the few drinks at BARBAR had hit him hard. Nonetheless he had gulped and smacked fiercely on his meal, approaching it with a determination and hunger that was incredibly pleasing to behold. At the end of it, the American had smacked Ben across the face with his cock a few times, wiping the cum into his hair roughly, then pushing him aside with a smack of his large paw.

“You gonna say thank you, boy?”

Once sated, Roger had, in a gentlemanly fashion, helped me walk Ben to the street and load him into a tuk tuk. The gesture was not entirely altruistic. Excited about his new toy, Roger had given me his number, asking to use him again, if the opportunity arose. Ben had looked at us conversing through glazed eyes, shooting me a look both embarrassed and hopeful. It seemed a shame to deny my diligent sub of more of what he craved, so I took Roger’s number and said I’d call him very soon.

Back at Ben’s hotel, I’d helped him up to his room. The concierge, who was grimly checking his phone, didn’t even give us a second glance. Laying Ben out on his bed, I’d carefully removed his makeup and his clothes. The wig had fallen off en route somewhere. Stroking his hair and congratulating him on his fine efforts, Ben smiled blithely at me before passing out on his pillow.

I deliberately left my underpants on him. That, and the cock cage, would be a gentle reminder, if he woke up early, that those strange dreams of his were not dreams at all. That, and the smell and texture of the substance that matted his hair and eyelashes together. The American’s parting gift.

I remember when I used to have a drinking problem, many years back. Nowadays, I can take or leave it, but in my early twenties, I drank like a fish. There’s a saying: “a man takes a drink, the drink takes a drink… and another and another”, though in Ben’s case, it could be rephrased as “a man takes a drink, the drink takes a drink and the man takes another man’s cock in his mouth in some dark and squalid alley”. I remember back in the days of blackout drinking, the terrifying sense of lost time when I woke up the next day. Like with Ambien or Xanax, the body still moves, hearing and speech still functions, but as the saying goes, “the lights are on, but no one’s home”. Ben would likely be waking up soon, trying to piece together the events of the night before. He’d remember the walk to the club, perhaps some of the happenings there — beyond that, when the shots had hit him, he’d probably struggle to remember. There would be physical sensations though — sore knees from the cold stone floor, an aching jaw. Still, I could imagine it would be difficult for him to truly make sense of what he had agreed to do, how he had been used.

It was time to remind him.

I hit send on the video. Taking a few bites of toast, I watched the morning traffic crawl by outside. The moto taxi drivers, standing on corners, tanned and mean looking, like vultures, waiting to descend on a backpacker whose wide eyes and unconfident stride betrayed their naivety to the way things work in the city. The Western men, standing outside the 7/11, watching sylphlike Thai women glide by in their black dresses and heels, aware of — yet unconcerned by — the energy of predatory lust fixed upon them. Everything or everyone hunts something in Bangkok, or is hunted. Innocence is neither protection, nor excuse.

The phone rang. Ben. He launched into a rant as soon as I picked up.

“You recorded it? YOU RECORDED IT! Delete it right now, I’m not joking…”

“Well good morning to you too, Ben. Why don’t you take a deep breath and explain…”

“Katia! No! You’re… we’re done, OK? Right now, you and me — we’re done.”

“Done?”

“We’re done! I’m telling you we’re done. I want you to take me out of this… this cage. Today, Katia. And then I never want to see you again. And if you wont get me out of it, then I’ll find a way.”

“Oh? Well, don’t let me stand in the way of your resourcefulness. Though Ben, what exactly do you plan to do to remove the cage, mm? Are you planning on walking into the locksmith and dropping your pants? I believe the tourist police would have something to say about that.”

“I…”

“Or perhaps you know the Thai for hacksaw, mm? Though aside from being expensive, it’s a little radical. I only locked your cock in a cage, I didn’t castrate you. That would be a case of cutting off your nose to spite your face, don’t you think?”

I laughed, signaling the waitress to fetch another cup of coffee.

“I can’t believe I…”

“Yes, quite incredible what we can do given the right situation, isn’t it? As they say, there, but for the grace of God…”

“Don’t talk about God! There’s… there’s nothing good about this. I went along with it… but on camera? On camera, Katia? I never agreed to that… you’re a devil! A devil!”

“The devil always gives you a warning, Ben. He’s really quite civilized. But you did say you were in, and you did agree to do anything. And by the look and sound of it, you enjoyed it very much.”

“Look. I can give you money — how much do you want? How much do you need? I’ll give you whatever sum you want, I just need you to delete that video…”

I laughed aloud. A man sitting in the opposite corner of the lounge eyed me over the top of his paper.

“I don’t need any money, Ben. And I would never hurt you, either. No lasting marks anyway. No, I just want this video for my own amusement. Perhaps you can earn me deleting it for you. I figured you’d need some help remembering the events of the night before too, given all you imbibed…”

“You got me drunk!”

“Would it really have made any difference if I hadn’t? You seemed pretty keen last night when presented with the opportunity, as I recall. What were those sounds you made again…”

I gulped down some of the water from my glass next to the receiver. Ben sounded frantic.

“Katia. I mean it. Please destroy the video. I will… I need you to…”

I felt a little bad. Ever since a child, I’ve had trouble knowing when to stop a game. The excitement and torment is part of the work, but beyond a certain point, I need to reign myself in and retie the threads. Work a sub too far, too fast, the threads snap and the game is done. He was at breaking point, and I had more plans. Time to change tack.

“Alright. Alright Ben, I can see you’re a little bit anxious, so let’s start again. Maybe you might ask me how I’m doing? It’s a special day today, Ben. Are you going to ask me why?”

“W.. why Katia?”

“It’s my birthday, Ben.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Oh, don’t bother saying it unless you mean it. I heard more enthusiasm last night, with your mouth all but gagged.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Why thank you, Ben. That’s very kind of you. I’m having a celebration tonight, in my room. You’re coming of course.”

“I…”

“What?”

“Sure… I mean, I can come, but can you delete that movie? I need to know, I just…”

“Why don’t you come on over for six? We’ll talk about it. I’ll even take off that cage of yours… so you don’t have to castrate yourself…”

“I…”

Click.

I messaged him the hotel details, then messaged the American to let him know about the festivities too. He messaged back — would it be alright to bring some friends? Of course, I said.

*

Ben, being Ben, came early. He knocked on my door at a quarter to six. I greeted him in a short PVC dress, offering him a coffee. He paced around the floor of my room as I switched on the coffee machine.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. You want the phone. Of course. But why don’t we look at that movie together first, while the coffee’s brewing?”

I walked over to the bed and patted the covers. Ben sat down dutifully.

“First things first,” I said, pulling the keys out of my bag, “Drop those pants.”

Ben wriggled out of his khakis and kicked them off on the floor. I removed the underwear, then slid the key into the lock of the cock cage, releasing his bonsai member into the relief of its natural form. I ran my fingers along it — it was a little raw, a little red. Ben would need to work on his hygiene if he was to wear something like this in future. Bless him, but I think he thought it’d clean itself.

“Better?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I stood up, then placed an arm around Ben’s shoulders and sat on his lap, stroking one naked thigh with my fingernails and squirming a little to get comfortable. I could feel his hot breath against my ear. That weight of expectation, not just for the video, but for things to come. I reached in my bag and pulled out the phone.

“Just so you know, I’ll delete this Ben, OK? But first I want you to watch it with me. I want to feel how your body responds when you do — if your earlier protests are in line with how your body really feels. Are you ready?”

Ben nodded. I hit play on the video and the night before unfolded again. Ben got hard almost immediately — it’s amazing how the body can recover from a shock. It felt pleasant to rock and shift on his boner through the stiff PVC of my dress. He growled softly.

“You’re turned on? That’s good. Is it because of me, rocking like this on your erection? The scent of me close enough to you to touch? Your hands on the curve of my waist? Or is it the video? Is it the sight of yourself taking that stranger like a slut in the alley beside the river? I bet there was a time when that was not something you’d ever think you’d do — but look at you ravenously taking him in while he abuses you — its quite arousing, isn’t it?”

Another groan, Ben’s hands tightened against my waist, he pushed his erection into my thigh.

“Down boy. There’ll be time for that soon enough. Now, tell me — having done it once, would you do it again? You can tell me, no need to be shy about it. After all, we do know each other very well now, don’t we?”

Ben looked at me hesitantly, then nodded.

“Yes, Mistress. I’d like to do it again.”

“For me, or for your own pleasure? I don’t mind either way — I’m just curious.”

A pause.

“Both, Mistress.”

“Very good. Well, as I said, I am celebrating tonight. You know it’s my birthday yes? Ah oh — kettle’s on. My star sign’s Aries, you know that? Sign of the ram.”

I rammed my ass into Ben’s erection, then swiftly got up to fetch the coffee.

“Go ahead and delete the video if you want. I’ve left it unlocked.”

Ben tapped around on my phone. Watching him there, pantless and aroused was quite glorious. He looked in better spirits now, uncaged and unconcerned by the video. Of course, he wasn’t simply here for coffee. Oh no. The real event was coming in another hour — in the form of four lustful American queers, looking for a place to take a load off, quite literally. I’d need to hurry up and get Ben ready.

I passed Ben a coffee cup. He relaxed and took a sip, eyeing me with expectation.

“You know there’s no porn in this hotel?”

“Mmm?”

“There’s censorship of it here, since the military coup in 2007, I think. It’s hard to get something exciting to watch in the evenings.”

“Oh..”

“Did you know that porn means ‘blessing’ in Thai?”

“I didn’t know that either.”

“Ben. I want you to bless me with some entertainment tonight. For my birthday.”

I strode over to my toy bag, pulling out the strap on. Ben’s sat up to attention.

“When you say entertainment…”

“Relax. I’ll ease you into it.”

I laid out three butt plugs and lube onto the bed. Next, I picked some thigh high stockings and a corset.

“Get dressed. I’ll be back.”

I walked into the side room with the phone, checking the messages. The Americans would be on their way shortly. Ben struggled with the stockings — I had to come in and roll them up for him before placing them on the end of his foot. The state of those toenails! I will never understand why men think its acceptable to go around groomed everywhere else, but having feet like a hermit. It would hardly be my problem, except that thigh highs aren’t exactly cheap. Usually I’d make my subs pay for them, but I’d grown to like Ben. For someone who’d only just met me, he was incredibly loyal and diligent. His interest in my feminine whiles aside, I saw in him the same pride in service that I held myself.

“Alright. You’re in. Now for the corset. Arms in…”

I placed the silk brocade over his chest. A navy blue with Paisley swirls, it looked fabulous with his dark hair, bringing out the colours of his eyes. Drawing the strings tight across his back, I ran my hands down his accentuated waist, around to the base of the corset, under which his erection stood proudly. I grabbed it and roughly shoved it between his legs, forcing his thighs closed over it.

“There. Much better. Neater. Good little sissy for Mistress now, aren’t you?”

Ben smiled, groaning a little as I ran my hands down his denier clad thighs.

Next, I applied some mascara, then gloss. Not quite the same look as before, a little darker. Last night’s virgin had been defiled a little. I hoped to catch the remainder of his innocence in his mascara framed eyes and glossy lips.

“All fours. On the bed.”

I fastened his wrists and ankles with red rope. Winding and tightening, winding and tightening around his limbs until he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Ben laughed nervously.

“I’m a little afraid…”

I smiled, fetching three sizes of butt plugs from the bag, then squirting out a sizable dollop of lube at the base of his spine, allowing it to drip slowly down his ass crease.

“That’s probably wise. Fear always serves a purpose. But you’re excited too, aren’t you?”

He pressed himself against my hand as I worked the lube into his crease.

“What exactly do I have planned for you? I’m sure your mind is turning. I could tell you, of course, but where would be the fun in that? Now,” I reached for the smallest butt plug, “to warm you up. Take a deep breath dear, just a little prick…”

Gently I eased the tip of the plug against the resistance of his pucker. He gasped a little as the tension released, allowing the length of the plug to slide in. I slapped his ass and he groaned, writhing a little on the bed.

“Good mm? Are you ready to take something a little bigger?”

Ben moaned approvingly. I pulled the plug out with a slick pop and moved to get the next.

“Same thing again. Ben, look at me. Show me your eyes. I want to see your pleasure as this goes in.”

Ben turned, his eyes almost rolled up in his head. I grabbed his chin and squeezed it. He fixed me with his glance and I smiled.

“Good boy. So very pretty when you do what you’re told.”

The next plug went in with less resistance than I thought. I had to question if this really was the first time he’d had something put in his ass.

“You’re doing so well, my dear, I think we’ll skip the next course and move to dessert.”

I moved behind him with the strap on, teasing his thighs with the end of the dildo as he quivered and moaned in anticipation. Another squirt of lube — I dug my fingernails into his buttocks as I massaged it into its target and down the length of the dildo, Ben’s eyes hungrily on mine.

“Are you ready? Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please Mistress… I want it…”

“You want me to violate your little virgin ass with this huge dildo?”

“Mistress… please…”

“When you ask so nicely, how could I possibly refuse?”

I pressed the tip of the dildo against his ass and pushed. It took a little work, but with a hard shove and a guttural moan, Ben began to accept it. Millimetre by millimetre, I drove it into him, grasping his flanks with my fingernails and licking the base of his back while he struggled to watch and balance at the same time. Watching his eyes roll back in his head with every small invasion, his tongue lolling from his panting mouth as I bit my lip and groaned in pleasure myself.

“I’m warming you up, Ben. I think you’ll be ready soon.”

“Ugh… ready… for what… ughh….”

“I have some guests coming very shortly.”

“Mmmm? Ugh….”

“You’re the main attraction. Think of it like taking medicine. I’m going to cure you of your reluctance to complete obedience and submission once and for all. You’ll be taking the medicine orally, though I may let them use your ass too, if you’d be up for that? I think you’d like it… I know I will…”

“Who…?”

“Oh, just some strangers. You’re not averse to taking strangers are you, Ben? Not after last night. Don’t come over all coy now. You and I both know you sucked off some guy you only just met not even 24 hours ago. He’s coming too. His name’s Roger, I doubt you caught it last night because you were pretty busy, but… he’d like to Roger you. I’m sure they all would.”

“Katia I…”

I thrusted deeper into him, withdrawing and thrusting in a symphony of wet sounds, underscored by his moans. I’ve always loved music, but the kind of music made by a submissive in heavy arousal is perhaps my favourite.

“You don’t need to play shy with me. Although, if you really want to leave, I can’t make you play.”

I stopped thrusting and pulled out — Ben moaning in unsatated lust. I knelt down beside his head and stroked his hair, looking into his eyes.

“Shall I untie you? Do you want to run back to your hotel before the big bad Americans have their wicked way with you?”

Ben heaved some deep sighs, wriggling his ass and making plaintive sounds.

“No… I want to… stay…”

“I am so happy to hear that, Ben. So happy.”

Ben was trying to thrust his erection into the bedsheets. Impetuous, but I was impressed. Some time in the cock cage had seemed to have cured him of his premature outbursts. I slapped his thigh.

“No! Stay still. I want you hungry when they come. You don’t get to cum until they do. Myself though… I’m a little too distracted to be a proper host now. I should deal with that. You are going to stay there — it’s not as though you have a choice, but… formality.”

I strode across the room to the bottom drawer of the dresser, pulling out my orange vibrator and walking back to sit in the chair opposite Ben.

“After all, it’s my birthday, I can cum if I want to. And I will, Ben. Again and again and you will have no part in it, no pleasure at all, until I say you can.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“And while you can get pleasure from watching me engaging in this activity, you are not to give into your own greedy desires. If you so much as leak, I will lock you back in that cage and make you eat the key. That will be fun to explain to the airport staff, mm? Now look!”

Ben gulped and shook a little on the bed. You could tell by his clenched muscles that he was concentrating hard. Good. He’d need to focus if he wasn’t planning on eating key for an appetizer.

“Don’t take your eyes off me for a moment, Ben. I will know, and it will end badly for you.”

I spread my legs in front of Ben, watching his mouth fall open as I turned on the vibrator and began running it up my thigh. I wasn’t sure if he’d last, and honestly wasn’t sure if I would really make him eat the key. The thing with me is, as disciplined as I am, I never really know where my inspiration will take me from one moment to the next. If Ben was smart, he’d follow instructions. I sank back into the chair, eyes fixed on Ben’s as he breathed heavily and stiffened every muscle to resist his own urge for pleasure. I don’t know what was more satisfying — the high speed function of the vibrator, or his helpless compliance with the game. I just know these are the moments one lives for. As my French friend once told me, they are “les petite plaisures de la vie”.

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