We arrived in Pattaya in the afternoon and checked in at the Royal Elephant Hotel. I reserved us a bungalow suit on the ground floor, which had a patio leading out into a tropical courtyard.
I was tired from the bus ride and wanted to relax before we hit the beach.
I sat on one of the wicker chairs on the patio sipping a mai tai. I made Prasang stand there next to me in the open air, completely naked save for the blindfold covering his eyes, the dog collar around his neck and the leather cuffs on his wrists.
I wanted him near me like this at all times, available to fulfill my every whim, if and when I should request it.
I had him strike my favorite pose: biceps flexed taut, legs spread wide. Tight, round buns swaying back and forth, slow and hypnotic. His big, thick cock swinging pendulously just inches away.
I had already forced him to cum on the bus, but sore though his tool may have been, I continued to stroke it, feeling the loose skin sliding up and down with my cupped palm.
His ripe young flesh was mine to use for the extent of my trip in Thailand. He would be a good boyfriend and cater to my every whim. That was our deal, plan and simple. I had already paid him several more-than-generous installments for having fulfilled my fantasies thus far.
The trip wasn't over yet, though.
As I stroked him, his cock thickened and grew until he was almost fully hard again.
"Ssss, ah!" He sucked in his breath as I dipped his big, suckable ball of a cockhead into my mai tai, which, of course, was icy cold. "Your dick's a little swollen from the bus ride, Prasang," I said jokingly, "I think we need to soak it in something cool."
I stirred his erect member around in my drink a few times. Then after taking a sip, I slid his cock into my mouth, sucking down every bit of the sweet liquid.
Prasang's tight stomach swelled and he let out a big, vigorous moan. Like all young men, he loved having his cock sucked. He pushed himself deeper into my mouth and flexed, his member growing hard as bone. He was so thick I nearly gagged on him.
Needless to say, the naked Thai boy with his fabulous build and gleaming skin started attracting attention from other guests in the courtyard.
He blushed beneath his blindfold as several tourists, men and women, made cat calls at him.
"Hey, put that thing away. You're gonna poke someone's eye out," a man called.
"Yeah, get a room," called his female companion.
Other passersby seemed amazed and even fascinated by such a gorgeous man standing there naked before me, flexing his biceps and moving his buns so sensually.
Some took out their phones and started snapping photos or making videos, scanning the length of his toned, bronze body.
This was Thailand after all. People came here to fulfill all kinds of sexual fantasies. Many guests at the hotel had likely come here to do something equally wild, either with their partner or with a local.
So tourists who may have been shocked and appalled in their own countries simply shrugged it off or took it in stride.
"Nevermind, Prasang," I said, stroking his big hard log, now almost obscenely erect and sticking out a mile. "Keep moving those beautiful, Thai buns of yours. They just want to enjoy your body. A body like yours was meant to be enjoyed by everyone. Repeat that, please."
The blindfolded Prasang swallowed hard under his collar and licked his lips, doing his best to continue despite the eyes of tourists boring into him.
I had forced him to get naked in public several times before this, but still his face was bright red with embarrassment. "Yes master, a body like mine (gulp) was meant to be enjoyed by others..."
I squeezed his shaft like a ripe cucumber until a stream of gooey pre-cum oozed out. I swirled his cock around in my drink once again. "Why don't you tell me about the day we met, Prasang. You know how much I like to hear that story. Tell me again."
Another hard gulp under his collar and Prasang blushed darker still. It was hard for him to ignore the photo snapping and excited whispers behind him.
I smiled, knowing the last thing he wanted to do was tell that story, which I, of course, had guided him carefully to embellish.
"When I saw you for the first time, master," he began, "My big...my big, fat Thai cock got so hard."
"Louder, Prasang, start from the beginning, and speak so I can hear you."
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, reinforcing his bicep pose.
"When I saw you for the first time, master, my big, fat Thai cock got so hard. Harder than any girl ever made it, even my girlfriend. I fell (gulp) I fell madly in love with you at that moment. I knew I wanted to make you happy and be your boyfriend, so that-MMPH!"
I squeezed his cock a little harder this time. Blood rushed to the head and turned it a darker shade of purple. His piss slit was wide enough for me to jam the tip of my thumb into.
I had him trapped, working my thumb deeper into his hole, not much caring if it hurt. With my other hand, I squeezed his cock all the harder until more sticky man juice oozed out onto my fingernail.
"Please, do continue, Prasang," I said innocently, "Don't let me stop you."
I loved the way he gasped around his tight collar, trying to hold his pose and continue swaying as I jammed my thumb deeper into his piss hole.
"So that (MMF...gulp) so that you could use my naked body however you wanted to, master- OUCH! Thank you, master, (OOF) thank you for making me your boyfriend and using me for your pleasure."
His face was as red as his cock as I continued to squeeze and probe it.
As he told the story, I had been quietly beckoning to two tourists who were observing Prasang intently for some time, even as others departed.
They were young, a guy and a girl. The guy was on the pudgy side and when I looked at him, my gaydar went off immediately. Not in the least because he was filming Prasang so intently with his phone.
I let go of my boy's cock and pressed my thumb with all the goo on it into his mouth, forcing him to suck it clean.
"Hey, can I help you with that?" I called out. I insisted I could take the duo's picture with Prasang. The girl smiled shyly and seemed ready to decline, but the guy betrayed his desire to be as close to my blindfolded, flexing Thai boy as possible.
I invited the two of them into our patio and positioned them on either side with their arms around Prasang.
"Smile big, Prasang, let me see how happy you are."
Prasang really did make the effort. I had come to love his forced, good-natured smile when it was clear all he wanted to do was sink into the floor. His cock was still fully erect and impossible to ignore.
I insisted on taking several photos for them. "Now you two stay there. Prasang, turn around." He did as I asked so that his back with the Buddha tattoo and his round, full ass were facing the camera.
As he flexed hard, the girl was the first to playfully grab one of his bare cheeks. The guy followed suit, squeezing it hard like a melon.
"Let's get one with just the two of you, shall we?" I said to the guy. The girl backed out of the picture and stood by, giggling in disbelief.
I motioned to the chubby guy to grab a hold of Prasang's huge boner, which he did with relish. I got a picture of the two of them kissing as he squeezed Prasang's cock tight in his grip. He must have noticed me doing it before and felt entitled.
I enjoyed watching my boy fight off a grimace as they kissed. Not only did kissing men not come naturally to him, but of course, like me, this guy was far below his league.
I got some snaps with my own phone, as well, wanting to be able to look back on this moment and cherish it.
After the photo shoot was over and the guy was feeling more comfortable roving his hands over my boy's body, I made Prasang thank him. "Thank you for using my naked body, master, I enjoyed it very much. I hope I will have the honor of being used by you again."
The girl laughed out loud, having no idea what to say. The guy, it seemed, couldn't help himself. Perhaps noting that Prasang's bare buns were already pinkish from where I had spanked him earlier, he drew back his hand and gave them a hard, open-palm slap.
"OOF!" Prasang exclaimed in surprise, his face darkening again.
I was pleased. "Do it again if you like. Harder. He likes it hard, don't you, Prasang?"
"Y-yes, master." SMACK! "UMF!"
The slap was so hard it echoed through the courtyard and caught the attention of people across the way. Prasang had to stifle a groan of pain.
I gave the guy back his phone with all the good pictures on it. The two of them went away, amazed at some of the "bizarre things you see in Thailand."
...
Soon after that, I was ready to head to the beach.
I showered Prasang myself the way I always did, rubbing the finest scented oils into his skin and drying him off with a fluffy, white towel.
I noticed some black bristles on his groin and underneath his armpits. It seemed I had neglected him the past few days and he was due for a shave.
It didn't take long. I mixed some soap and water with a brush, then applied it to his groin, denuding his cock and balls in a matter of seconds. I then did the same to his armpits and his chest.
I cleaned up his legs and arms, too, though those were almost naturally hairless as it was and didn't require much maintenance.
Most important to me were his buns and his hole. This part I did carefully, having him bend over and pull his cheeks apart wide.
I carefully swiped away any bristles and course, black hairs, making sure I didn't miss even a centimeter. This left his ass and his cherry as smooth as silk and hairless as the day he was born.
All the better to use and abuse later as I wished.
When we stepped out of the hotel, I was wearing a pair of baggy cargo shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, my straw sunhat and flip flops.
I allowed Prasang to wear only the barest article of clothing possible: a bright red thong I bought for him at Sexy Guy in Bangkok. This was all he wore, save for his collar and cuffs.
The thong looked fantastic on him. Going shirtless or fully naked as I regularly had him do, he was tanned a beautiful shade of cinnamon brown, including his perfectly-defined buttocks. They looked all the more pert and irresistable framed by the flaming red.
The tattoo of the tranquil Buddha on his back, combined with the flame-pattern sleeves running down his arms, made him look like some exotic tiger.
A captive tiger, of course, as I also had him carry my heavy backpack strapped to the front of his chest with all my beach supplies in it.
I linked his leather cuffs into the dog collar so that his hands were bound and he would be unable to put down the bag unless I undid them again.
In this fashion, he followed me, a servant to his master, toward the beach.
After a mere ten minute walk, we were engulfed in the bustling beachfront of Pattaya.
The beach itself was one massive canopy of multicolored parasols that went on for miles. Visitors would rent one for the day and lounge beneath it on wooden beach chairs, sipping drinks and relaxing.
A cement beach walk spanned the coast as far as the eye could see. People swarmed every which way, buying things at concession stands or trying to locate a good spot to put their stuff down.
Thai men and women went up and down with baskets of keychains, necklaces, and braided bracelets to sell to tourists.
People in the crowd pointed and giggled at Prasang, who was "underdressed" compared to almost everyone else.
A group of attractive young women swarmed around him, snapping selfies with the handsome boy. "Hey, nice collar," one of them teased.
I noticed the immediate difference in Prasang's demeanor around the girls. His smile came much more naturally and there was even something of a twinkle in his eyes.
I noticed his big cock flex and stir in his tiny thong as the girls put their delicate hands on his shoulders.
I too pulled out my phone and snapped some selfies of the ordeal.
I wanted evidence, in case I felt the need to make him pay for this later.
I pulled my boy away from the adoring girls by one of the backpack straps, making it clear who was in charge of him.
I dragged him across the street to a beach shop and made him wait outside facing the wall like a bad boy being punished.
"If any other pretty young girls approach you wanting pictures, what do you tell them, Prasang?"
"(GULP) That my master forbids it, sir."
"I hope so, unless you want me very unhappy," I said coldly.
(I realize this was somewhat hypocritical of me as I had emphasized again and again that anyone should be able to enjoy Prasang's body who so wished. However, as his master, I felt the decision of who enjoyed him should be left up to me, not him.)
In the beach store, I got myself some powerful UV sunscreen, plus a fresh new bottle of oil for Prasang. I had used so much of it on him that we were almost out.
Then I looked around for some things he and I might have "fun" with on the beach.
I found a toss and catch game set, which included a tennis ball and two disks covered in velcro that you can strap to your hand.
I also got one of those battery operated plastic bug zappers in the shape of a tennis racquet and a packet of twenty wooden clothespins.
I smiled devilishly, imagining what I could do with these.
Outside I unzipped the backpack strapped to my boy and stuffed the new merchandise inside. His pretty eyes looked at me, questioning, maybe a little worried about what I had in mind. I chose to keep him guessing for the time being.
I unhooked his hands from his collar. "Help me put on sunscreen, please, Prasang."
I did my face, but let him do the rest. He applied lotion to the back of my neck, my arms and legs.
Of course people were watching, but I made him do it twice, believing him to be too self-conscious about being my boyfriend. "Slower, Prasang, make sure you do a thorough job...Now what do you say?"
The burn coming back into his cheeks, he put his hands together and bowed. "Thank you for allowing me to serve you, master, I hope it brought you pleasure."
I grabbed a handful of his bare buns. My fingers were still oily from the sunscreen and I slid them down between his cheeks. One found its way past the slim fabric of the g-string and pressed against his hole.
"Come on, boy, let's hit the beach." A led him briskly away. His hide was hot in the afternoon sun and he was perspiring lightly from carrying the bag. As we walked, the tip of my finger slid into his inner heat. His hole quivered, resisting the intrusion.
I actually did want us to have some privacy, so we walked almost the entire length of the cement walkway, past shops selling beach apparel and concession stands selling tropical juices.
We passed the seas of umbrellas and billowing crowds until, after forty minutes or so, we were in a far less crowded area.
I hurried my boy along. My finger had gone up almost all the way inside him now and his anal muscles had loosened up to accept it.
His cock was getting hard as my finger neared his prostate and threatened to burst out of the thong.
I leaned over and spoke into his ear. "Take your big, fat cock out and stroke it. I want it completely hard by the time we reach our destination. Understand?"
Prasang swallowed against his collar, "Yes, master." He glanced around nervously at the people still around.
"Are you still embarrassed to show off your cock, Prasang?" I said in near disbelief.
"N-no, master," he said immediately, sensing my disappointment, but the apprehension in his voice was evidence to the contrary.
"What have I told you, about your cock and about your body? What have I told you a million times?"
He swallowed hard again, "That my body is to be used and enjoyed by everyone, sir."
"Very good, now repeat that, louder." He swallowed and said it once more. "My body is to be used and enjoyed by everyone."
"Here, why don't I make it a little bit easier for you." I blamed myself. Clearly, I had not yet trained him well enough.
I dislodged my finger from his hole, withdrew the black blindfold from my pocket, and fitted it over his eyes. He licked his lips as I restricted his sight once again, clearly wanting to protest.
"And I don't think you really need this anymore." I whipped down the red g-string and his cock bobbed out. I zipped the single tiny piece of clothing I had allowed him to wear safely inside the backpack.
I replaced it with the new bottle of oil and lubed up my thumb. He gave a surprised "ah" and spread his legs as I slid my thicker digit up inside him. I hooked a finger into the back of his collar and pulled him back toward me.
He gasped as my thumb slid up, going deeper and deeper into his hole. Having had my finger inside of him first probably made it easier, but my thumb was much thicker. "Oh...OH!" he moaned as his hole clenched and spasmed desperately around it. He made choking noises as he tried to swallow against the collar.
"There," I said into his ear. Goosebumps erupted on his back at my tone. "Now you can't see if anyone's looking at you, right? Now I want you to march, Prasang. I want you to get those legs high into the air as we walk. Like a soldier, understand?"
The added tightness to his collar made his GULP all the more audible. "Yes, master."
"And as we walk, I want you to rub your fat, Thai cock and squeeze your balls. I want your cock hard for me at all times, understood?"
"(GULP) Yes, master." Prasang grabbed a handful of his hefty balls in one hand and began pulling and stroking his cock with the other. I pushed my thumb further up inside of him. "MMF!"
"Now march, boy."
Prasang did as I commanded, getting his legs high into the air so that his knees came up at a ninety degree angle to his waist, like an army recruit.
He had to march somewhat spreadeagled so he could rub and caress his cock and balls at the same time.
I led him on in front of me like a hostage. I kept a thumb hooked into his collar to keep him close. My other thumb, violating deep into his hole, was like a gun to his back.
"Who makes your Thai boy cock hard, Prasang?" I said into his ear.
I pulled back on his collar so that my chin nearly rested on his shoulder. I forced my thumb still further into him until it disappeared almost all the way to the knuckle. His hole spasmed uncontrollably around it, desperate to somehow expel my thick digit.
"UMF, OOF, (GULP)," He choked. "My...my master makes my Thai boy cock hard, sir."
"Keep stroking, Prasang. I want that beautiful, uncut beast as big as you can make it. And keep those knees high up in the air. Now say it again."
His hole clenched against my thumb. "My master (GULP, OOMF) my master makes my Thai boy cock hard."
"Again."
I unhooked my fingers from his collar to reach down and give his moving ass a slap. First one cheek, then the other.
"OOH, OUCH!"
"Keep it moving, boy, keep stroking that big, fat cock. Do girls make your Thai boy cock hard, Prasang? Did those girls you were flirting with earlier make your cock hard?"
He was panting now for we were walking quickly. It was harder for him to march at this pace and, of course, he could not see where we were going.
"No!" he nearly cried out. "No master. Only you make my Thai boy cock hard, master."
"Do women with nice big tits and gorgeous legs make your cock hard, Prasang? You told me once you liked women's legs."
Prasang shook his head desperately, his hot hole quivering. "No, my master makes my cock hard. Only my master."
It was becoming a kind of chant. "Keep saying it, keep repeating it. The whole way."
"My master makes my Thai cock hard- MMF. My master makes my Thai cock hard (GULP)."
"And I make you want to cum, don't I?"
"Y-yes, master," He eagerly agreed. "You make me want to cum and cum until I can't come any more... (MMF) My master makes me want to cum and cum until I can't cum anymore..."
On I marched him down the mostly deserted beach as the sun sank in the western sky, my thumb wedged up his hole as far as it could go, pressing against his prostate. My fingers tugging at his collar so he stayed right in front of me.
All the while he thrust his knees high into the air, one hand cupping and tugging at his balls, the other desperately jerking his cock. Stroking and squeezing it, waving it around and slapping it against his stomach so that it stayed hard.
He choked and panted as he recited his mantra. "My master makes my Thai cock hard-UMF! My master makes me want to cum and cum until I can't cum anymore..."
...
At last we came to a spot with umbrellas and reclining chairs scattered here and there but almost completely unoccupied.
Up near the walkway was a little grass-roofed tiki bar with a bartender in a white jacket. There was a hotel looming behind it, but with the sun disappearing fast, it would be pitch dark soon and guests were probably entertaining themselves elsewhere.
This was exactly the kind of place I was looking for.
Prasang was heaving and out of breath when I unplugged my thumb from him and gave him a brief rest. He went down on his knees with a relieved "phew."
I went up to the bar, paid two hours rent for one of the beach chairs, and bought a tray of four Singha beers for the two of us to enjoy.
Prasang scrambled to his feet when he saw me coming. The heavy bag was still strapped to his chest and he continued to squeeze and tug his cock and balls as I had commanded, keeping himself hard.
I at last relieved him of the bag and opened it up, fishing out the throw and catch game set I bought at the store.
"Ready to play some catch, Prasang?" I asked gamely.
"Yes, master," he replied, though his eyes were dim and showed visible rings. I had marched him a long way to this secluded part of the beach with my thumb buried in his ass. His hole surely ached (not to mention a few other parts) but I was persistent.
As far as I was concerned, the fun was just beginning.
The two of us played catch for a while in the setting sun using the two velcroed discs. The light shone molten pink and orange upon the crashing waves.
Still fully clothed, I stayed up near the umbrella and tossed the green and purple tennis ball to the naked Prasang, who stood in the wet sand, water swirling around his feet.
Tired though he may have been, he was good at the game, far better than I was. The more we played, the more he seemed to find his energy again. Sporty as he was, he might even have been enjoying himself.
I loved watching his perfect, muscled body in motion as he dove after the ball. If I threw it high enough, he managed to hustle faster than seemed possible and catch it on the disc.
He was so much under my command by now that he continued to rub his cock while we played, keeping it hard so that it bounced in front of him proudly when he went to retrieve the ball.
After a while, I made myself comfortable on the lounge chair, opened one of the bottles of Singha and took a deep, satisfying sip.
I now wanted to play a slightly different game. As I sat in the chair, I told Prasang to retrieve the ball from wherever I threw it.
He positioned himself with that lovely, gleaming smile, seeming genuinely enthusiastic now. Legs spread, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, waiting to make a spring for the ball wherever it went. His cock flexed in anticipation.
I pelted the ball toward the crashing waves and Prasang went after it like a well-trained greyhound. He came charging up to my chair with confident, masculine strides to present it to me. "For you, master," he said with a traditional Thai bow.
Being the sexual sadist that I am, I decided it was time to make this all a little more challenging. He understood what I wanted him to do, now I would explain the game in full.
I brought up the stopwatch on my phone and told him he would have fifteen seconds to retrieve the ball. Fast as he was, I didn't think this was unreasonable.
But first, to level the playing field a bit, I put a bottle of Singha to his lips and made him chug the whole thing down. He was probably pretty thirsty anyway after our long trek, so when he had finished the first one, I gave him another.
Before I had even finished one beer, I had poured two whole bottles down his gullet. The effect was quick. He must not have been a big drinker because his eyes started to glaze over almost right away. The warmth of the alcohol burned in his cheeks.
Once I had him good and tipsy, it was time to begin. If he could bring me the ball in fifteen seconds or less, I would oil up my hand and give his cock ten nice, slow strokes, counting each one out as he stood there obediently with his hands behind his back.
I would then have him lean over me and give me the deepest, most passionate kiss he could muster.
"Kiss me, Prasang. Deeply and sensually. Show me how badly you want me." He did so, parting my lips and inserting his hot tongue into me (though the sudden infusion of alcohol surely made this easier).
He knew how to kiss, all right. The depths of those lips were enough to make you feel like you were rocking on ocean waves.
I kissed him back. As deep as I could, sticking my tongue down his throat until he threatened to choke around his collar once again.
These were the "rewards" for when he did a good job. When, unfortunately, he didn't move fast enough, I would enact penalties.
I had him turn around and grab his ankles so that I could give him five good hard slaps on the ass with my hand, having him count out each one. "(SMACK) One! Forgive me, master. (SMACK) Two! Forgive me, master."
I also decided to make use of the little accessories I bought at the beach store.
If he failed to retrieve the ball in the allotted time, apart from being spanked, I was also allowed to clamp two clothespins onto any part of his body I wished.
I started with his nipples, two puffy pink cherries stuck into the gleaming brown sugar of his skin. He hissed and sneered as one wooden peg bit into the sensitive flesh, then the other.
I applied two more when he failed a second time. The third time, I hooked one to his oval-shaped navel and another to the loose skin on the bottom of his scrotum.
This obviously made running after the ball more difficult and painful, but the pressure on these erogenous parts of his body also kept him stimulated. His cock remained hard now without even having to touch it.
After a while, I started to realize my hand was much too lenient a punishment, no matter how hard I spanked him with it. Surely, something stronger was called for.
I took the electric bug zapper out of its plastic casing, put the batteries in and swung it around like a lightsaber.
The zapper weighed almost nothing, but when I had my boy bent over before me, his round, brown buns vulnerable and waiting, there was a loud SNAP followed by a bright white spark in the fading light.
The instrument made contact with his flesh and sent him staggering away, clutching his ass and swearing in Thai.
A feeling of delicious anticipation stirred my loins when I realized what I could actually do with this thing.
"Back again, please, Prasang, assume your position." I was patient but firm. I tested it on my own leg. An electric current shot through me, small but painful, throwing me backwards in the chair. An itchy little red spot appeared on my pale calf almost immediately.
Oh yes, this was going to be fun.
Prasang assumed the position again, bending over and grabbing his ankles. Again I touched the zapper to his waiting buns. SNAP! "ACK!" He cried out, "One, forgive me, master." He again danced away from the shock.
This was clearly much harder to take than anything I ever spanked him with before, so I would need to use a different approach.
I commanded him to lay across me on his stomach. I wrapped my powerful arm around his waist to hold him in place. SNAP! "OOMPH! Two! Forgive me, master." He gritted his teeth hard, making a great effort not to cry out.
The more I snapped him with the electricity, the better he was able to absorb the pain of the shocks. But clearly it was not easy and it hurt a lot.
Soon, Prasang's perfectly defined buttocks were covered in vicious little red spots. If they were anywhere as itchy as the one on my leg, his poor buns would be burning and he would barely be able to hold them still.
I started rubbing myself through my shorts as I watched them twitch and wiggle in discomfort, clenching together uncomfortably even as he ran to retrieve the ball.
Even when he was kissing me or I was stroking his cock, the insidious spots on his buns meant he was almost forced to keep them moving back and forth, trying to find some kind of reprieve from the pain.
...
Thus ensued this bizarre and wonderful game. Prasang bringing me the ball as fast as he could and being rewarded with my tongue down his throat and ten oily strokes to his cock.
Prasang failing to run fast enough and being punished with five painful taps with the zapper and two additional clothespins biting into his flesh.
After a while, he had clothespins clamped all over his body: three on each nipple, four lining his scrotum, two in his navel and two on his earlobes.
Meanwhile, I ordered him some more beer from the bar. The pain combined with his increasing drunkenness made it all the harder for him to deliver the ball to me in under fifteen seconds.
But my boy continued to surprise me. Maybe it was all the pain I was inflicting on him that made him so fierce and determined. He ripped after the ball, buns burning, the painful clothespins bobbing up and down as he ran.
Soon he was winning almost every time, receiving more strokes to his cock (and makeout session with me) than spankings and clothespins.
When, at last, I counted another stroke and his face screwed up for release, I was ready with the last, half-empty beer bottle.
I put the mouth of the bottle right into the line of fire so it caught each healthy spurt of spooge. His eruption was big and impressive as ever, even after cumming on the bus earlier. There was a lot of yolk in those two duck eggs of his.
I held up the bottle and swilled the liquid inside, watching the creamy, white semen mix itself with the fizzy gold.
"Down on your knees, Prasang, hands behind your back."
"Yes, master," he knew what was coming, even giggled drunkenly as he obeyed.
"Drink it all down now, every last drop." I held the bottle to his lips, supporting the back of his head so he would not turn away or try to spit it out.
I made sure he chugged every last drop of the beer mixed with his special Thai boy sauce. Even as he squirmed and scowled at the taste running down his throat, he swallowed it all down like the champion he was.
He had earned it.