December 18 th
Vomit won at bingo again tonight. Five times. She cheats. I don’t know how, but she cheats. I threw the card down and looked out the window – it was still raining. It’s been raining since August and it’s Christmas next week. But I don’t care – we’re having Christmas in Thailand this year! Yey! Phukit (I love that name) gets to thirty-two degrees in December, they say. And there are, apparently, many, many boys. I intend to work on my tan. And on the boys – somone’s gotta pay for the holiday.
December 22 nd
Why the fuck do women have to pack so much stuff? I’ve got one small case and the bitch has THREE large ones. What’s in them? She’s locked them and she won’t let me look. We’re only going for a few days. This is going to cost a fortune. “Don’t worry,” she says. “Be happy.” Happy fuck.
I have a client tonight. Bit of bondage, get him despunked and send him on his way. Should only take an hour.
December 23 rd
Well so much for an hour. For a start the ‘bit of bondage’ turned out to be the mummification-in-full-leather (mine cos he hadn’t got any of his own) which takes forever; and then – and then – I could not make the bastard cum. Tried everything: hand job, sucked him, used two vibrators, battered his prostate blue, the works. He would not cum. Then I heard him mutter something around the gag.
“Mwfeeejuh”.
What?
He tried again. “F-deaash.”
“Dish?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Pheej.”
I frowned. What? “Fish?” I tried.
He nodded violently.
O-kay… Now I have to say that I am not inexperienced in SM, but I had never heard anyone mention fish in a sexual context before. Oh well, I thought, and padded out to the fridge. I came back bearing the trout that Vomit had bought for her dinner tomorrow. It was looking at me accusingly.
The smell was dreadful, but it appeared to have an immediate effect on him – his cock got harder than it had been all night. Experimentally I wrapped the trout around his cock and started to wank him with it, alert in case that wasn’t what he’d intended me to do with it. He came instantly – and explosively.
It was almost 1am by the time I got rid of him and Vomit made me spend the next half hour spraying air freshener around the flat, and then go out in the rain to the 24-hour supermarket to get a replacement trout. I told her that if she washed this one it would be fine – what’s a bit of spunk between friends? She’s had more than one cock in her mouth before now, believe me. Still, I’d made some money.
Christmas Eve
Things are not looking good. We’ve arrived in Thailand and the hotel is fucking awful. The pipes rattle, it sounds like there’s a band with a Peruvian nose flute and bongos rehearsing next door and we’re miles from the fucking sea. And would you believe it – it’s raining. And our luggage is, apparently, on its way to Alaska. I’m not bothered cos I’d only packed a couple of pairs of leather jeans, some handcuffs, a gag and a few sexy tee shirts, but Vomit is incandescant. How will she survive without the fifteen facepacks and the grand piano, I wonder, snickering. The airline is very apologetic and assure us that the luggage will join us soon.
I’m going out to have a look around the bars. You never know. God it’s warm here.
Hmm. It seems that sexy guys in leather jackets, tight leather jeans and bike boots are rare in town; they cause eyebrows to raise and, surprisingly often, cocks too. I was, to put it mildly, the centre of attention in the first bar I went into. I scanned my admirers and smiled at a very cute boy. We negotiated and then he took me back to his place.
He had heard of neither bondage nor edging – I introduced him to both. For a couple of hours I had him writhing on the bed, trying to make himself cum, while I was using just a finger and thumb to keep him slightly short of his goal. I’m very good at edging -I’ve done an awful lot of it and I know exactly how to read a boy. When I finally let him shoot it was while I was fucking him and biting his neck. Even with my hand over his mouth, I’m sure his yell could be heard in the next town. Yay – more cash.
Walking back to the bar, I was intercepted by a couple of lads who, I thought, could be trouble. They looked suitably menacing, and I got ready to fight – I’m not exactly a pushover; in my line of business you learn how to look after yourself - but it didn’t get as far as that. Just as they were about to start, a new voice shouted something in foreign. It was the cute boy I’d just been with. He talked to them for a minute and they went away. After making sure they were gone, he smiled and disappeared into the shadows before I could thank him.
Shit, I thought, it’s Christmas Day tomorrow and I haven’t got Vomit a present yet. I knew that she’d make my life a misery for months if I didn’t, so I went off in search of something suitable for a degenerate.
When it rains in Thailand, it fucking rains. I was already wet, but by the time I’d got to the shops even my bike boots were squelching. I scanned the items in the first likely shop I came to – it was mostly the usual tourist crap – but on a top shelf at the back was the very thing: a bright pink teddy bear in punk gear. It looked like a small version of Vomit herself, right down to the black lipstick and studded basque. I bought it.
Walking through the streets of Phukit, in the rain, in full leathers and carrying a 2-foot pink punk teddy bear is not the best way to blend into the background. I smiled at the whoops and whistles, and walked faster.
Rounding a corner I found my way blocked by the same two guys who had accosted me earlier. This time, I suspeced the boy who had saved me from a fight last time would not be around. They looked me up and down, laughing to each other in the local language. “Hi,” I smiled, hopefully.
“Hi!” They said, and I thought we’d be able to communicate, but it seemed that ‘Hi’ was the only word of English they knew. However, by means of cock-groping and other gestures that would have got them arrested in lesser circumstances, they managed to convey that they would not be averse to the idea of having sex with me. I wondered exactly what the cute boy had told them.
How do you say “Well thank you very much – I’m flattered, and at any other time I’d love to – but I have to get this pink bear back to the hotel because it’s my punk friend’s Christmas present and my life will be hell if I don’t,” in sign language? I started to try, but they didn’t let me get very far.
I got ready to fight again, but they didn’t look as aggressive now – just excited. I let them take me down the road and into what looked like a warehouse. They closed the door and started kissing me. Their hands were all over my leathers. Then one of them knelt down and began sucking my cock through my jeans. He wasn’t very good at it.
After a while, when I realised they had no idea what to do, I stopped them, sighed, and waved them over to a couple of crates that were standing by the wall. I pointed to one guy and then to the crate. He got the idea and lay down. I knelt astride him, unzipped his jeans and started to work on his cock with one hand. Properly. With the other I managed to get the second guy to kneel over the first, facing me, and took his cock into my mouth. I was sucking one and wanking the other, and they were getting close. The one facing me got my own cock out and worked on that at the same time.
Very soon we’d all cum. To my astonishment they each thrust some high-denomination banknotes into my pocket and grinned as they left. I picked up the bear and, smiling, went back to the hotel. What with them and the cute boy earlier, a profitable night.
I had to exercise cunning getting into our room cos I didn’t want Vomit to see the bear until tomorrow, but I managed it.
She was fuming. It seemed that our luggage had been intercepted at a stop on the way to Alaska and was now heading for Japan. It was clearly having a more interesting holiday than she was – Vomit hadn’t been out of the room since we’d arrived.
Christmas Day
It is still fucking raining. I’m convinced that I have a personal raincloud that follows me about. After breakfast I presented Vomit with the teddy bear. It did nothing to cheer her up. She sat staring at it as I waited for her to give me my present.
She mumbled something unintelligible, very quietly.
“What?”
“HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO GET YOU ANYTHING,” she yelled.
Haven’t had fucking time? What about all day yesterday? I said nothing. I knew better.
She still showed no sign of wanting to go out and settled down in front of the TV in a gloomy haze. One thing about the Bitch: you never, ever, try to cheer her up. People have lost body parts doing that. I glanced at the TV. It was in foreign.
“I’m going out for a walk. Might make the trek to the sea and the palm trees. If I’m not back by tomorrow send a search party.”
She didn’t reply and so I went out. The streets were running with water and it was pissing down.
Leaning back against a palm on the beach in the driving rain I tried to imagine what the scene would be like if the fucking sun was shining. Not easy. It was very warm, I’ll give it that - in fact it was hot. I shucked off my leather jacket and teeshirt and lay back against the tree, letting the warm rain land freely on my naked chest and arms, and on my already soaking leather jeans – it was not possible for me to get any wetter anyway. I was comfortable, and I must have nodded off.
I almost jumped out of my skin when a finger touched my left shoulder. I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed was that the rain had gone and the sun was shining brilliantly. The second thing I saw was Vomit standing over me. She was as dry as a bone. After a minute her face cracked and she started to laugh.
“Thank you for the bear. That was sweet.”
I nodded. A response at least.
She sat down next to me on the wet sand and stared out at the sea. “We’re a right pair aren’t we.”
I chuckled. “Happy Christmas.” I got up, the feel of my soaking wet leather jeans deliciously sexy. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel.”
She looked a bit self-conscious. “I can’t. I’m meeting a guy in ten minutes.”
“What are you doing here then?”
She nodded her head towards a block of flats on the shore. “He lives just there.”
So the Cow hadn’t come to find me at all. Typical.
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep but the streets were dry and it was as if it had never rained at all. Now, if a leather biker is a cause of interest in Phucket, then a biker in glisteningly wet, soaking leathers is more so. I’d even put my jacket back on (one has to keep up appearances). It felt very heavy.
I’d got about halfway back when a guy came up to me and started speaking in tongues. Well, I suppose it was Thai, but it was gibberish to me. His hands were waving about and he was grinning fit to bust. I don’t want to sound arrogant but if someone starts doing that my first thought is that they want sex. I looked at him. He was fit. I nodded. “Lead on,” I said.
He took me to a block of flats not too far away and we climbed the stairs to the third floor. An elderly man, a woman, and a younger girl were also there. The woman made some tea and we sat down. The girl batted her eyelashes at me.
This was strange, I thought. I wondered if they were intending to watch. I drank my tea and listened to more gibberish. Then the elderly man raised his hand for silence.
“I speak the good English. I learn it in the TV.”
Okay.
“You are a English nice boy. Good looking. We are very much wanting you to -” he waved his hands, looking for the right words. “- marry our daughter.” He put a fatherly hand on the young girl’s shoulder.
I put my tea down. Then I stood up. I shook my head. “No, this is not possible. I am sorry. I like boys, not girls. Thank you for the tea.”
Whether they’d understood what I’d said or not, they’d clearly got the message by my body language and there was general wailing and gnashing of teeth. But I would not be persuaded – in spite of the large wad of notes the man was brandishing at me. I edged towards the door. “Thank you. Goodbye.”
I got as far as the landing on the second floor when a hand descended on my shoulder from above. It was the son. He grinned, pulled my head towards his and kissed me passionately. I returned the kiss, then pushed him away gently and showed him two 1000 Baht banknotes. He nodded and got two of his own out, which he thrust at me. The next fifteen minutes consisted of much sucking followed by a quick fuck on the stairs.
Back at the hotel I counted my loot so far. Not bad for two days’ holiday. I spread my leathers out to dry a bit and went for a shower. After that I felt better still. I don’t mind being naked, but I don’t feel right without some leather against my skin so I inspected my jeans. They were still wet, but I put them on anyway. That felt better.
I was lying on the settee, bare-chested, when the door opened and Vomit arrived. She was not alone. Along with her were five guys. Her appointment with the guy near the beach had apparently been a party, and it had come here. Apart from sitting up to make room, I stayed where I was. The guys sat down – I smiled to myself when I noticed that they headed for my settee first. A couple of them could speak English, so while Vomit was making eyes at one of them and then went to organise drinks I made polite conversation. Vomit handed the drinks out and then, after giving her man a very sexy smile, went off to the bathroom, probably to tangle her hair up a bit more or to smear her lipstick.
I don’t know how it happened. I honestly don’t. It wasn’t my fault – I did nothing to encourage them at all, in spite of what Vomit screamed later – but by the time she came back all five guys and I were having an orgy on the floor. There was much kissing going on, my naked chest and my leather-clad butt and thighs were generally being pawed by everybody, and Vomit’s guy had thrust his cock into my mouth. More cocks were waiting their turn with me. I like to be fair, but trying to deal with five cocks equally takes concentration. Hence the first thing I knew of the Bitch’s return was my leather jacket being hurled at me. She was apoplectic.
I have never seen five guys leave a room so quickly. Soon Vomit and I were alone and I was being screamed at. “How could you do this to me? On Christmas Day? Why do you hate me? That was my man! Why--” It went on like this for a long time. I put on my still-very-damp jacket and boots, dodged around her and made it to the door. As I was leaving the phone rang. I listened.
“The luggage. Ah. Thank fuck.” She breathed a sigh of relief.
Pause.
“What do you mean, fucking POLAND?”
I closed the door very quietly behind me.
Boxing Day
How can a grown woman be so bloody childish? Anyone would think she was sixteen. She hasn’t said a word since yesterday and I noticed the pink bear had been shoved into the rubbish bin.
It’s a fifteen-hour flight from Thailand to London and The Bitch has been studiously ignoring me all the time. The in-flight movies are all ones I’ve seen before, there’s fuck-all to read, nothing understandable or interesting on the radio, and I’m not tired enough to sleep. But there is one cute flight attendant.
The loos on planes are not designed for sex, but it’s surprising what can be accomplished with a little imagination. It took me ages to find all the spunk on my leathers and wipe it off. I wasn’t going to ask him for anything but he gave be twenty quid anyway. Nice guy. Mile-high Club indeed.
New Years Eve
I think Vomit has finally forgiven me – she’s started talking again. monosyllables mostly, but at least that’s something. Then this afternoon she smiled at me – first time for ages – and looked a bit sheepish. “Come on,” she said, “let’s have a making-up session. I need to do a bit of bondage.”
She is the only person I allow to tie me up regularly, and to be honest the thought of a restrained milking session was just the thing. I smiled back at her. “Why not?” She led the way into the playroom.
New Years Day
Will I never fucking learn? That Bitch is pure evil. Things started well – she got me hogtied and hooded (two of my favourite things) and I waited for her to start on my cock. She likes to try to make me cum in my leather jeans, but I’ve got better at holding out against her doing that. It usually ends up with her unzipping me and sucking me off.
I waited.
Then I heard the door close – and lock.
That fucking cunt of a whore left me there all through New Years Fucking Eve. I missed the whole thing. She was partying in the rest of the flat and I was grinding my teeth in fury, hogtied and hooded on the playroom floor.
It must have been three in the morning when she finally released me. And she wasn’t smiling any more. “Next fucking time we have a fucking holiday perhaps you’ll not fucking fuck my fucking guy, Fucker.”
I gathered from this that she was still not pleased with me.
I’m keeping my head down. Things will cool off soon but until then I’m being careful. There are few things in this world more terrifying than a furious Vomit.
January 3 rd
The luggage finally arrived yesterday. It had made a brief stop in Chile, I saw. Surprisingly it was all there. Not only had nothing been nicked, there was even something extra in my case. On top of the handcuffs was a photograph with a telephone number on the back. The photo was of a guy in his twenties. He was in airport police uniform, and smiling.
And fuck is he cute.
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