For those thing “I know that building but from where?” It is on Phra Somen, close to Victory Monument and just around the corner from Khao Sarn Road.

It was an 11 sorry shopping mall where the top 7 floors had been added illegally. The top 7 floors were ordered demolished in 1994 but due to legal challenges from the owners did not commence until 2004, at which point there was a collapse injuring many workers and the original 4 floors were also closed.

New World Shopping Center was the Red Bull Heir sage of the late 90’s

Link

Scandal has never been far from Gustave Courbet's L'Origine du Monde, one of the most provocative works of art history depicting a naked woman's genitalia and torso.Now a French scholar may have solved the mystery of whose body was painted so explicitly in his 1866 work, not exhibited publicly in France till 1991. The subject of Courbet's work was for years assumed to be his Irish lover. But the woman now thought to be in the picture is dancer Constance Queniaux.

Warning: graphic content in Courbet painting below

French literary expert Claude Schopp stumbled on his discovery as he went through correspondence between two writers, George Sand and the son of Alexandre Dumas.

Who was Constance Queniaux?

Queniaux had retired as a ballet dancer at the Paris Opera in 1859 and aged 34 she was a mistress of Turkish-Egyptian diplomat Halil Sherif Pasha. In later years she became a woman of some means, given to philanthropic work. She is seen clothed in the top left and bottom left images of the picture below. The diplomat who commissioned L'Origine du Monde, who was known as Khalil Bey, kept Courbet's painting in his dressing room behind a green curtain, revealing the work to visitors and dinner party guests.

Nok

So many girls say they will give good head. So many don't deliver. But my friend Nok, who I met early on in my 15 week trip, is one who prides herself in being a good, no, a GREAT prostitute. She carries pleasing to the extreme. It is a personal ethic with her and if she didn't have it, she wouldn't enjoy her work. Remember sanuk? Part of everything in Thailand.

So she is into giving whatever the man wants if she likes him. And she liked me. She got really involved in the giving me head and worked herself up along with me. When I moved (just a little bit!), like I didn't like something (she has sharp teeth) she got way too upset and stormed into the bathroom. I was perplexed! She ranted in bad English. "I have feeling too," she said several times. "I don't think you (will) finish." (Cum) "When man finish, I finish." She's not lying - if I'm not going to be satisfied she is going be hurt, disappointed, frustrated and pissed. She calmed down. Thankfully I got off in her mouth. When I did she jumped up and danced all over the bed. She actually did the naked boogie all over the bed, ecstatic! "Oh I feel good!" she beamed. "Yes! I feel good! I feel GOOD!"

*******

Nid

Nid haunts the beach in Pattaya. She has a great, a wonderful smile, and a big, shapely ass. She was wearing tight, white pants when I saw her bending over talking to a farang. I hadn't seen anything like it since leaving my largely black hometown. I assumed he was her boyfriend, but I was overcome and walked over anyway. "Can you believe THAT!" I said, admiring her backside. Of course, no one understood what I was talking about. She turned and hit me with that smile! "Where you go?" "Out to dinner." "I go with you!?" "Okay." The smile.

Nid smokes and smokes and smokes. She is not squeamish about cum, in fact she is strange about it. Although I was getting great head, she wouldn't let me cum in her mouth. She had a different agenda. Every time I came, she would take it all over her face. The she would carefully spread it around as a facial. She smiled happily, "Veetameen!" That was fine, weird, but fine. Happy to say, she washed it off after about fifteen minutes.

*******

Om

Om is the sweetest, most reserved little sweetheart in Thailand. She is shy. She won't dance. She keeps the towel on a long time. She looks like a bookworm, a church lady, a librarian for God's sake! "You don't smoke?" I told her when I met her. "I can," she said shyly. Can! Shit!! It is unbelievable: (1) She gives incredibly good head, made just that much better by the knock out surprise factor. (2) She is a cum guzzler. After we were together a few times, she gave reviews, "Wanee mai arroi." (Today don't taste good.) (3) When I don't cum in her mouth, I usually come on my stomach as she sucks away somewhere down below. When I am finished, she slides up to my stomach and licks up the cum! Takes her time, enjoys it. fnI mean Wow! Strange, but good. Strange but really GOOD!

*******

Om tells me about her friends. One day a few of the girls were sitting around chatting about swallowing cum. A young one, not so pretty, said, "I no drink water. Cannot!" An old, old woman of 42 (!), still a real beauty, knowing she looks fantastic for her age, proclaimed, "Swallow water! Like! Good for me!" They all agreed. What a role model!

*******

Do I just have crazy good luck, or are there more stories out there?

Zane

All critiques are welcome ( esp from CENT ) Chok dee and enjoy!

* * * * * * * *

THE BANGKOK SHUFFLE

By Tom Warren

The sun rises above the Chao Phraya like a lazy dragon from slumber. At first just a glimmer on the horizon that grows into a blazing giant. It?s hazy and blurred through the Bangkok pollution like bad erotic photography. It is a new day and in every new day, lives are made, remade and ended. This tale has all of these things. Not by choice, but destiny has a way of making decisions for us. And not knowing where exactly to begin the story, we shall start at the beginning, a most logical place as any.

CHAPTER ONE: A PHOENIX RISES FROM THE ASHES

Sometimes life is a strange journey. Things some of us take for granted, experiences we have had or people we have met, can be awe inspiring to others. It is also amazing to me how much age can bring perspective to our lives. At the age of 16, I knew everything! At the age of 18, I still knew everything plus more. At 21, I begrudgingly began to accept that I just might not know everything, but I was damn close to it. At 25, my parents got a lot smarter than they had ever been. At 30, I finally began to assimilate experiences into something resembling perspective. The older I became, the more my thoughts on life, love, and happiness started to gel into one cohesive idea. It is wonderful to me when I see people enjoy things that I have had experience with. It is like sharing a secret, or giving a gift at Christmas. And Roger was a guy who was about to experience something few people in the USA have, and his perspective was about to be altered.

Roger was an unassuming fellow, not getting any younger, and his hair was not as full as it had been once, but still a respectable specimen of western male culture for his 40 years on the planet. He had been married for many years to his high school sweetheart and had by all accounts a happy life. He had provided as well as he could for his wife, but it was never enough. They had the requisite 3 bedroom house in a suburb of Indianapolis with two cars and a house full of knickknacks. It was a typical life of a typical couple in Midwestern USA. He was a good man with a good job and a good life. But all was not what it appeared.

I had met Roger while managing a showclub in Indianapolis. He was an affable sort with a pleasant personality but obviously missing something to spend so much time in my fine establishment. He was unhappy. His wife thought she could find better pastures with some other man and Roger was taking it quite badly. She had filed for divorce due to irreconcilable differences. Luckily for him it was a clean and easy split. They divided the property and assets evenly between them and gone their separate ways. Fortunately, they had no children and there was no alimony involved. Roger had gotten away quite cleanly by his estimation. He had seen many of his friends and colleagues destroyed by their divorces, not only emotionally but financially as well.

Roger continued on with his career and set himself up in a new apartment. He lived spartanly and managed to squirrel away a nice bit of savings now that his only responsibility was himself. His chosen profession was sales and he had devoted himself to his work while his home life was falling apart. He began moving up the company ladder more rapidly and collecting his commission checks at a rapid pace.

He harbored the ill feelings from his divorce for a long time. It weighed on him and the more I knew him the more I worried about it. One day he came through the door of the club with a beaming smile and confident gate. I knew something had changed.

?Hey Roger! How are you doing today?? I said smiling. I knew something was making him quite happy this day and was glad to see it. I had grown to like Roger quite well was beginning to worry about his state of mind following his divorce.

?I?m great, man! You have to see this!? he reached inside his jacket and pulled out folded piece of paper. ?I found this on the internet. I am going to go, man. I wish I had known about this years ago!? he handed the paper to me with a broad grin.

It was an advertisement for one of those Thailand sex tours. I knew what it was as soon as I opened the paper.

I was not a few years younger than Roger and had spent a portion of them in the Kingdom when I should have been in college. I had taken my college fund and decided to invest in a more worldly education than the American university system could provide me. I whiled away many of my nights in a few of those go-go bars pictured in Roger?s printout. As a middle aged man in these United States, I am sure Roger thought he had quite a grasp on world events and probably had an idea that he had seen most everything there was to see in this world. This would be one of those perspective building moments in his life.

?That looks great Roger! How long have you been planning this?? I said.

?I just saw it the other day at work. Man a month in that place will be awesome!?

?A month?! Are you sure about that?? I said with some concern. A month was quite a while for someone who had never been there and I was concerned that Roger might run into some trouble. ?Come with me, Roger. I need to talk to you about this.?

We made the way to the office and I aired my concerns with Roger.

?Have you ever been out of the country, Roger??

?I?ve been to Canada once!? he said with that same grin.

?Roger, you don?t have any idea. Canada is like USA light. Thailand is a whole different animal.? Now I was more concerned.

?It?s going to be great! The tour group takes care of everything.?

?I don?t think you understand. When are you going??

?In three weeks! I?m so excited?

He was like a little kid at Christmas and there wasn?t much I was going to be able to do to convince him otherwise. I dug through my address book and found the number of an expat I had buddied up with during my younger years. We had kept in contact through e-mail and the occasional phone call. I knew that if I asked he would help Roger find his way through the teeming streets of Bangkok. I gave him the number and some more internet sites for him to educate himself with while he waited for his departure date.

?Don?t worry, Joey.? Roger chirped. ?The tour takes care of everything. What?s the worst that could happen??

?Nothing and Everything, Roger.?

And with that we quickly changed the tone of our conversation to more pleasant things. I regaled Roger with stories of my adventures in the bawdy nightlife venues. I was aware of not making it seem too fantastic as well as relaying some more cautionary tales that would hopefully give Roger some perspective. I wanted him to understand the dichotomy of the culture and the illusion that can be wrapped around an unsuspecting farang?s mind if he allows it. He would soon find out many of these things for himself.

Roger continued planning his trip and I would occasionally advise him about small things; toiletries, clothing and such like that. He seemed to grow more and more excited as the day neared. I can?t say that I blamed him. Bangkok has a strange pull on people, and I am no stranger to it myself.

On the day, Roger asked if I would take him to the airport. I was more than happy to oblige. I provided him with a Jake Needham and Chris Moore book for his flight, to whet his appetite a bit and to give him a crash course in Bargirl 101. I saw him into the terminal and gave him instructions to give me a call while on holiday so I knew he was alright. He almost skipped through the automatic, sliding doors to the counter. I smiled and gave a final wave. I knew he was going to have the time of his life. How right I was, I would only find out later.

CHAPTER TWO: THE BIG MANGO

?Joey! Wake up!? I heard the voice on the other end of the phone. It was Roger. And from the thumping music and catcalls in the background, I could tell that he was enjoying some of Bangkok?s finer adult entertainment establishments.

?Hey, Roger! How are you doing??

?I feel like a rock star, Joey! This is the greatest time of my life! I?m never coming back!?

?Don?t get ahead of yourself, Roger. Just have a good time and come back in one piece.?

?I mean it Joey, I am never coming back!?

I knew exactly how he felt. During my stint in the Land of Smiles I had the same feelings. Bangkok is like a narcotic. It can make an average man feel like Superman, and a better man feel like a God. But there was always another side, when the money is gone and the party ends, perspectives change. I hoped Roger could keep himself at least reasonably sane while there.

We talked several more times. He had met my expat friend Charlie and was truly considering a long term stay. Charlie was helping him arrange it. I made a few calls for him stateside and Charlie was helping him on the other end. I had hoped Roger would not get bitten so hard by the exotic life, but it was his life and who was I to spoil it for him. Both Charlie and I gave him as much advice as possible to make his life their free of complications. If Roger was determined to do this, then all I could do was help him as much as I could. And let?s face facts, if I had the means would I have chosen a different path myself at some point? Perhaps it is a question best left to my dreams.

Roger kept in contact occasionally through e-mail and Charlie kept an eye on him too. Roger was exploring much of Thailand; he had been through Issan and across some of the southern islands, as well as visa runs to Cambodia. We made arrangements for me to visit him, and Charlie as well, in October. We continued to exchange e-mails and my departure date grew closer as well. The e-mails stopped three weeks out from my trip. This concerned me, as Roger had sent at least one a week. I am sure he had many more pleasant activities to fill his days than to send messages to me, but it still concerned me slightly. Charlie was ?in communicado? as he had taken a small trip to Japan to investigate some ?get rich quick ?scheme. For a man that seemed to have quite a grasp on the Asian way of life, his one weakness was these schemes.

My flight date had arrived. I boarded my plane and promptly decided to get myself tanked. I never could stand flying, and the only way I can do it is to drink myself into a stupor. It is probably not the healthiest way to cope with trans-continental air transportation, but it works for me. It makes the flights seem shorter and to be truthful, I could care less when I have a stomach full of beer.

The flight was tremendously uneventful and I was only too glad when the final screeching of jumbo jet wheels was done, and the Northwest jet had touched down at Don Muang Airport. I head down the aisle and towards the departure stairs. The air hits me like a fist, first the heat and then the smell. Most people dislike both. To me it is like an old friend saying hello. It is comforting and brings back memories, not so much complete memories but details. It fills in the holes that I have lost over time. I trundled down the steps and into a waiting tram that would take me to the main airport facility. I reminisced while on the ride and smiled to myself at the flashes of my youth running through my head; glimpses of accommodating Asian faces, bright lights and debauched nights.

Immigration in foreign countries is somewhat unusual when you don?t speak the language. Communication is limited to hand gestures and verbalized salutations. It is quite funny really, to see the Thais and various visitors gesticulating and saying over and over ?hello? in their native tongues. I wander through the surreal immigration desk and pick up my belongings at the baggage conveyor. I sprint through the doors and into one of the waiting taxis.

?Rorem Nana hotel.? I tell the cab driver. The Nana hotel is a legendary hotel in Bangkok. If the walls in this place could talk they would probably never be silent. The place is smack in the tourist red light district and is not shy about this fact at all. The place runs 24 hours a day and is one of the reasons its legend is so. The driver hits the accelerator and off we go. I plan to setup operations there as this is where Roger is staying. It?s cheap and clean for the most part, and is extremely convenient for the farang tourist. I will have to give Charlie a call when I get there so we can get together and reminisce.

The expressway wanders through the heart of Bangkok and as you come off of it and into the city, the dichotomy of this city is readily apparent. Driving down Sukhumvit Road, one can see on one side very well kept and manicured gardens in front of very elegant residences, while directly adjacent are tin roofed shacks built under and beside the self same expressway. Half finished buildings butt up like scaffolding next to beautiful high-rise condominiums and millennia old temples. Small children hawk flowers and gum in the middle of busy streets while Mercedes and Benzes, as well as a few lower end motor vehicles, narrowly avoid these urchins as if they were not even there. You just don?t get this kind of view in the States. It is part of the charm and amazement we westerners feel when we see a place like this. So different from what we are used to at home. These are more of those perspective building moments.

We arrive at the Nana Hotel, and it is very late in the evening. The driver pulls into the driveway and parts the deluge of bargirls, drunken sex tourists, and hangers on as if the taxi were a modern day Moses and this his Red Sea. We pull in front of the doors and I throw the driver two hundred baht and make my way into the hotel to check in. At this time of night, the lobby of the Nana is something more akin to a surreal carnival than it is to a hotel. Swimming through the legions of painted Thai women and the inebriated westerners that accompany them, hearing the chatter rising from the 24 hours restaurant, and the throngs emanating from the hotel disco I make my way to the check in desk. The staff is terse and to the point with the check in process. I take my bags in hand and head for my room. I drop the bags and take a quick shower. After the last 24 hours of dealing with various airports and jumbo jets I am grateful to have a moment to clean away all the canned air and recycled exhale that I have been surrounded by. The shower rejuvenates me and I put on some fresh clothes and head for the Bangkok night.

My front doors, look out onto a couple of vacant lots, bedecked with shrubs and scrub and coconut trees. Recently one of the other trees turned into a Mango tree by the expedient method, of producing Mango fruit. I can sit in my lounge, coffee or beer in hand and watch the neighbourhood coming and going around and through the greenery.

My house has a population of house geckos, as do most in South East Asia, I've three in my bedroom and bathroom, one in the kitchen and a trio in the lounge. There are probably more, and they come and go. I am interested in lizards as a rule, so having these little mosquito catchers, working tirelessly away to rid me of the pests, is a good thing. These fellows are usually a dust brown, with large piercing black eyes that look like jewels.

There are also Tokay geckos in the area, at night I can hear them call and if I look hard enough, I can see them, high up on the eves of houses, preying on insects attracted by the lights, and presumably any unwary house geckos. These Tokay are attractive beasts, some are a full foot long and they have orange spots, on their blueish velvety skin that remind me of Medieval leather armor.

Another group of lizards I see are Long Tailed Sun Skinks, usually out and about on piles of wood or rubble, sometimes I see them climbing trees. These are shiny and stylish lizards, like large long pencils in shape, they are coloured in various longitudinal stripes, of different chocolate colours, white, milk and dark. Some stripes are wide, some are pinstripe, a very elegant looking animal, these are.

Then there is the lizard I can't see. He, I'm sure it's a he, is only noticeable by the passage he makes through the bushes and the creepers and the leaf litter. When I step outside and approach the verdant expanse in front of my doors, to have a cigarette, I often see the vegetation rustle and quiver, I strain to see what kind of animal has made this commotion. I've come to the conclusion that it is a lizard, as a snake would be more serpentine in it's movements and a mammal or bird would surely give me a glimpse of fur or feather. So it's a little bit of a competition between this lizard and me, I on the one hand have ascertained which bush he may be found in at certain times of the day, he on the other has learnt to escape unseen the moment I creep up on his lairs, hoping for a glimpse of him.

A neighbor boy, is often seen, wandering about with a long fishing pole equipped with a small noose on it's tip. The other day I happened upon him, he, with a catch. It was a Garden Fence Lizard, a girl. Garden Fence Lizards, are interesting to look at, quite long, nearly a foot, with a slim and tapered body, long legs with long toes tipped with claws. Their scales are distinct and slightly raised, giving them a rough appearance, aided by a frill of spines that runs from their head down their spine to the base of the whip like tail. Their eyes seem to protrude in little turrets on each side of their head, reminiscent of the head lights that pop up on sports cars, in little shells of metal. The head is a little block-like in a triangular way. The whole is slightly patterned with a faint tiger stripe motif. The female is generally a khaki brown or tan.

The male sports a more colourful demeanour, from about his hind legs to the tip of his tail, the overall colour scheme takes on a subtle green tint. Foreward of this and ending at the neck, there is a very positive terra-cotta orange change to the brown. The head remains khaki in the male, and under the head is a flap of skin that, when extended, protrudes vertically down from the throat, to form a curved keel. He uses this to signal other lizards for the purposes of territorial declaration and for the wooing of the girls, this too is terra-cotta orange. Lastly, from the angle of his jaw and extending onto his neck and throat is a patch of black, looking like nothing so much as the soot blackened exhausts of a world war two Spitfire fighter plane.

One night I was watching a baby house gecko, in pursuit of mosquitos on my tiled floor, the midges were nearly as big as his head, such a slip of a thing he was, then he got a house fly. It was almost too big, but after chomping on it several times, he dragged it under the desk and spent an hour, chewing it to bits. At this time a truck arrived and proceeded to dump fill on the vacant lots, it kept this up for about six trips until a good portion of one of the lots was two feet deep in soil and rubble. This covered about a quarter of the verdant expanse outside my doors.

The next day, I was outside surveying all this dirt, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lizard, I'd not until now, been able to see. He was sitting on the stump of a coconut tree, watching me. I moved slowly away, hoping to get my camera, but to no avail, he was off, leaving in his wake his familiar trail of leaves in commotion.

Over the next few days, I kept an eye on the stump, and sure enough, he turned up a few times, generally about midday. I got a reasonable photo today, handheld 500mm cardiotropic lens at 15 metres. He is a Male Garden Fence Lizard. I'll post the photo once the contest is over. He seems to be less skittish now, letting me see him for minutes on end whilst he signals the neighbourhood. Then quickly, he goes.

It's been nearly a week (well, 6 days anyway ), so everyone should have had time to read the entries entered into the story contest. Unfortunately we did not get enough entries for prizes to be awarded, but I think we'd all still like to know which the best story was/is. So, without furhter ado, the poll.

Sanuk!

PS I cannot specify a closing time in the poll creation, so we'll consider the results on Tue May 15th, noon BKK time to be final.

THE BANGKOK sun beat down on Jack forcing him to wake up and face another day. The six precious hours from midnight to dawn were a blessing. His place wasn’t much. It was close to the BTS. It was underneath it. The sky-trains flew overhead every four minutes during rush hour. He had six hours of silence when the trains stopped running at night. That was his writing time. He wrote short stories and he had an idea for a novel. Those six hours were beautiful. He had a story. A backpacking trip that turned into a nightmare. Beggary. Life imitates art. Some people travelled to find themselves. Others travelled because they didn’t want to be found. Jack lived under the bridge.

He thought back to that evening. He had been drinking heavily with his Danish girlfriend Anna with a gang of locals in a back-street karaoke bar. Things had gotten out of hand. Bangkok Dangerous. There was something in his drink that made him count sheep. It was all in the notes for the novel. He never saw her again. She had left him. He woke up with an empty wallet and only the streets for company. The days slid into weeks and the weeks into months. He had a routine of sorts. Sleep. Beg. Sleep. Think. Write. Sleep.

Sometimes the donations were generous. But generally the Thais couldn’t understand why a foreigner would need to beg. All westerners were rich. The tourists did their best. Oftentimes Jack would not pick up a single satang during the rush hour. He stole pens from seven-eleven and wrote on discarded food cartons.

That morning he saw an angel. She had white skin and wore a white dress. She reminded him of Anna. She seemed to glow, lightening up the Bangkok sidewalk. “What have you done to deserve this?” The strange woman said. “What brought you here?”

Jack didn’t know the answer, or at least he couldn’t think of anything specific. She was younger than thirty and was the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. “Fate,” he said. As an aftethought he said. "I'm a writer."

“What can I do to help you?” She said. Her lips were full and her eyes were blue pools of human kindness. Jack thought about diving into those pools, but he would drown. He had never been a good swimmer, keeping afloat was the best he coud hope for.

“A shower, a meal, a bed...,” Jack mummered.

“Of course you poor creature, come with me,” She leaned over and took Jack by the hand. He stood up followed her to a townhouse. “It is not much, but I call it home,” She smiled. “My name is Carina. I work for an NGO.” Her accent was hard to place, yet it reminded him of home. They walked through a hallway into a living area with futons and low tables. There was modern paintings of Bangkok city scenes hung on the walls. A bronze Buddha meditated beside a row of guidebooks on a wall-mounted shelf.

“Thank you,” he said and then dissolved into a comfortable sofa. His eyes closed. He had a dream.He was inside an old house and had unearthed a secret inside of a box.

He awoke confused but happy.

That evening she cooked a rich stew. They washed it down with a Chilean red. Jack relaxed on the sofa as they watched the Thai soap dramas together. Neither of them understood the complexity of the plot or the anguish of the characters. It was another world.

It was midnight when she said. “I only have the one bed. Tonight I can let you sleep there until we find somewhere more suitable for you tomorrow.”

“Well, that sounds fine.”

They went up to the bedroom. “why don’t you get out of those filthy clothes,” Carina said softly. She pointed towards the bathroom and Jack walked inside. It was heaven. Jack rubbed the strawberry-scented gel all over his body. The lather was thick and invigorating. He had not felt this good since... well since it happened... He washed his hair with coconut shampoo and felt his life turn around. He sprinkled baby-powder onto his aching body, dried himself and wrapped a towel around his waist.

In the bedroom Carina was wearing purple briefs and a purple bra. Her attire confused and exited him. Her generous breasts were spilling out from her brassiere. Jack sat on the bed and looked directly at her. She took the two steps towards him and grabbed him by the back of the neck, kissing him passionately before throwing him back onto the bed. Jack closed his eyes and felt his wrists being tightened. He had only seen this in movies, he opened his eyes to see Carina panting above him. He felt his ankles being tightened to the foot of the bed. And then she gagged him. She took off her shirt and bra. It had been so long. The last person was...

“You like that don’t you, Jack.”

He hadn’t told her his name. She had't asked.

“You’re one sick boy alright, Jack. No wonder you’re living rough.”

Jack tried to speak. He tried to place the voice, the face, it was useless. His heart hammered against his ribcage. He felt sick. He could taste the stew in his stomach.

“If she hadn’t of gone on that holiday with you she would still be back at home. My sister. My best friend, Jack. You took her away from me. And now I am going to show you how it feels to lose something...”

Jack looked at Carina. She was smiling. The resemblance sickened him. Anna had spoken about a sister, he hadn’t met her. He could see it all now. The resemblance was frightening.

Carina reached over to the bedside cabinet and opened a drawer. She pulled out a pair of poultry sheers and waved them at him. The sharp metal reflected the ceiling lights. “Do you know what they did to her? Of course you don’t, you ran away and left those monsters to rape her and then cut her up. Some fucking boyfriend you are, Jacky boy. They took her apart piece by bloody piece.”

“Mmmmm.Mmm.Mm,” Jack tried to scream.

“These blades are sharp, Jack. I brought them all the way from Copenhagen. Always best to have the right tools for the job, don’t ya think?”

“Mmmmm. Mmm. Mmmm

“Relax Jack. I came a long way to do this. Let’s not rush things. I want to do my very only Jack the Ripper show. Dedicated to Anna. What do you think about that?”

“Mmmmmm. MMmmmm. MMMmm.”

A sky-train flew overhead and lit up the window. Then Jack heard the sound of the sheers closing and tearing at a lump of flesh. Then the sound of laughter. He could not bring himself to open his eyes. It was late. Outside the rush hour traffic was reduced to a tiny audible hum.

Six precious hours.

ack is three days into his gap year vacation when he meets the love of his life. He is sitting in an ice cream parlour finishing a large iced coke. A stunning Thai girl walks into the shop and sits at the table opposite. She smiles.

Oy is about five feet two, slender, with long black shiny hair reaching down to her waist. She is wearing designer clothes, cut to emphasise the swell of her petite but shapely round breasts. Oy smiles again, looking directly at Jack. Jack joins Oy at her table and they begin talking.

Jack discovers Oy was educated in England and they have much in common. At university, they were both keen members of the amateur dramatic society. Oy has a sense of fun, coupled with a dazzling smile that Jack finds irresistible. Oy checks her Rolex watch and asks Jack about his dinner plans. They arrange to meet in the lobby of the Baiyoke Sky hotel.

When they meet for dinner, Oy is wearing a simple black Dior dress offset with a matching clutch bag. The Rolex watch has been replaced by a Cartier. Jack chooses a good bottle of white wine. They dine heartily on the seafood buffet.

The waiter brings the checkbin. As Jack reaches for his wallet, Oy gently rests her hand on his arm. “My little treat” she says, producing a black American Express card. After the meal they walk up to the observation deck on the 77th floor to admire the Bangkok skyline.

Jack hails a taxi to drive them back to the Novotel where Oy has taken a suite. She invites him upstairs. Oy slowly undresses whist Jack watches transfixed. Her small firm breasts are offset by a flat hard stomach leading down to her sculptured pubic triangle. Oy’s dark nipples become tort and erect as she teases Jack and becomes aroused herself. Her skin is light brown and creamy. Oy turns around slowly to reveal a pert rounded bottom. Once she has finished undressing herself, Oy then undresses Jack, pausing to kiss and caress each part of his body as she does so. With a mischievous giggle she pretends to be intimidated by the size of his manhood, concealing it briefly by balancing an open magazine on top of Jack’s phallus.

Once they have showered, together, they make love. At first their lovemaking is frantic and furious; reflecting the urgency of their mutual need. Afterwards they lay in each other’s arms, softly exchanging endearments. Then they make love again, this time slowly and tenderly. They sleep late into the following morning.

Over the coming days Jack and Oy become inseparable. There are trips to the Grand Palace, the floating market and Jim Thomson’s house. In the evenings there are visits to the cinema, cabaret shows and bars where Filipina bands play western music. Sometimes they just enjoy a romantic meal out together, afterwards dancing the night away at a club.

Oy suggests that she and Jack should escape the city and spend some time together on Koh Chang. She explains that Koh Chang, or elephant island, so named for the elephant shape of its headland, is the second largest of the Thai islands.

On debarking from the Island ferry, they rent a small motorbike. After 30 minutes or so on the motorbike, Oy turns off the road onto a rough track leading down to the beach. Oy kills the motorbike’s engine and goes into a small office building with a blue van parked alongside. She comes out a few minutes later holding a key. They continue along the track for about a mile, on the way passing several beach huts. Oy parks the bike on some hard standing immediately behind the final hut of the small beachside development.

The beach hut is a large wooden structure raised on stilts about five feet above the ground, with a small veranda to the front facing out to sea. Oy explains that the stilts are needed to avoid flooding resulting from a high tide or storm. They also provide some protection from poisonous snakes and insects that might otherwise crawl into the hut. “I like to come here sometimes for the solitude”, Oy tells him. “It’s owned by a friend of the family.”

The following days are idyllic. Jack and Oy use the motorbike to explore the island, picnicking by waterfalls, trekking through the rainforest and snorkelling over the reefs. Sometimes they eat out at the open air restaurants they find in the villages, at other times preferring to prepare a meal in their own kitchenette, eating al fresco on the veranda and watching the sunset together. Once it becomes fully dark, more often than not they take a blanket down to the shoreline, making love under the stars with only the gently lapping waves for company.

Sitting on the veranda together, Jack muses that these last few weeks with Oy have undoubtedly been the happiest of his life. Oy reminds him of the time she played the female lead in William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. She tells him that the Bard’s play is the perfect love story because of the tragedy that befalls the two lovers. The beauty and purity of their love is defined in the manner of their passing, for if they had grown old together then the intensity of their passion would surely have become diminished. Jack concurs, although the intellectuality of her argument is somewhat at odds with his carefree mood. Oy acknowledges Jack’s agreement with a triumphant smile. She reaches into her beach bag. The small Beretta pistol aimed directly between his eyes is Jack’s final living memory!

Oy makes a brief phone call. The blue van parked by the office arrives a few minutes later. Just like the others before him, it will take Jack’s body off the island. Jack will be found a few days later, his body tossed carelessly into a ditch by the side of a farm track.

“Fucking Farang” she thought as she read the text message. What was an extra ten thousand baht to him? What did he spend to fly here two or three times a year? Fifty thousand each time? Another fifty thousand on hotels, another on drinks and who knows what on other things like food, clothes, traveling around and ladies. Yes he had other ladies, she was sure. Nevermind. He loved her.

“Fucking Farang!” she hissed as the mamasan glared at her, nodding to the new customer sitting at the far table. She wanders over slowly.

“Not yet” replies the customer to her request for a lady drink, as his hand glides up her thigh. He winks at her, staring her up and down – and asks if she does anal. In her pocket, her phone vibrates, she just knows it's him – he's changed his mind about the money, she knows it. If not, she may have to go with this farang.

She makes an excuse and dashes to the toilet, checking her phone – the message is not good. No extra money this month, or next. The tone implies there may not be any money at all coming her way from this farang again. He sounds pissed off. She quickly sends a loving goodnight text, and switches the phone off.

She bounces back to the farang in the bar, showing a little more affection this time. Touching his leg and kissing him on the cheek. He turns and slips his tongue into her mouth. Fuck. Not only does his breath reek, but he absolutely stinks. When was the last time this guy saw a shower? He'd better be a big spender.

Again she tries her luck for a drink, only the fat farang replies by finishing his whiskey, paying the bill and leaving.

“Back soon.”

Like fuck.

Fucking farang. Couldn't stand the guy anyway.

She turns the phone back on – two missed calls. The phone rings and she darts to a quiet corner of the bar.

“Hello”

“Hey baby, are you OK?”

“OK darling, you?”

“Good – where are you, it's loud?”

“I go see my friend – you know”

“OK - this money, what is it for?”

“For my mum, motorbike, so old you know.”

“OK”

The bell rings.

“What was that? Are you in the bar?”

“Yes, see my friend – you remember her”

“OK.....”

And so the conversation goes, eventually both declaring their undying love for each other. He somehow feeling good about parting with his hard earned money, she happy to be receiving it. The money isn't for her mum's bike, her mum wouldn't ride a motorbike if you paid her. It was simply so she could show the other girls in the bar she could get it. They all had farangs paying far more than ten thousand baht a month to them, she had to show she could do it too. Simple.

The bell ringer was handsome, probably 24, definitely under 30. She sat down and a drink magically appears for her as he smiles at her. She blushes and lays her hand on his leg. Very handsome. She giggles as he asks her what she wants for the night, and laughs out loud as he seems happy to pay.

She kisses him gently on the face, he feels nice and smells delightful. Pity she has a boyfriend. The other girls in the bar are whispering and giggling like school children, any one of them would happily go with this farang, some she is sure would go for free, but he was hers for now. Thinking more about her boyfriend, she considers leaving him for one of the others, but the temptation is too strong. After tonight, no more farangs – she says to herself in her head as he pays the bill, including bar fine.

He was only in town one more night, and what did it hurt, the boyfriend wasn't back for a couple more months and the rent was nearly due, plus there were a few things she needed.

Fucking farangs.

“Well, it’s a life sentence either way,” said a drinking buddy as I shared my news with him over a game of pool in a Sukhumvit bar.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” I said as I tried to slam a ball home, only succeeding in rattling both balls off the table, across the floor and into the wall.

“And you’ve only been here six months? As far as rookie errors go, I think this takes the cake,” he roared between bursts of laughter. “Priceless!” I smiled ruefully and rubbed at my receding hairline as a bargirl scuttled after my rogue balls.

I’m not a man to run from my responsibilities and knew I probably wouldn’t get far even if I tried. I married her in a Buddhist ceremony a month later at the family home up-country. My new father-in-law took care of what equated to my stag’s night by taking me, his son and his brother to a local karaoke bar. They each had girls pawing them but I flapped them away self-consciously as my in-laws laughed, groped and a bit later, fucked. I knew I’d done the right thing when Por pulled his weapon and shot a competitor for “his girl” in the thigh before calmly ordering another bottle of Johnnie Black.

On my wedding day my boss called me from Bangkok, congratulated me and then told me that he had to let me go. When I hung up my new father, Por, gave me a knowing smirk and told me not to worry. Now that I was part of the family I would work for the family. He asked for my passport and a week later he gave it back with a big smile and a fresh long-term Visa and Work Permit that I hadn’t applied for.

That was just over a year ago. Our son is healthy and handsome and he has my blue eyes. The young idiot sitting across from me in an interview room at the Thong Lor Police Station has blue eyes too, but both are nearly closed and have deep purple bruises flowering under them and are streaming tears. Now he is finally realizing that I am his best hope and he is begging with me to help get him out. I will, but not before I squeeze as much cash as I possibly can out of him. That’s my job and as a “Volunteer Police Translator” I get a percentage. So does Por as the station boss and the rest goes into the “Widow’s Fund.”

I’ve done this a few hundred times already. I go to farang clubs and bars and play “spot the coke-head.” Then I call my brother-in-law. If he doesn’t get a quick cash settlement I get called into the station to explain the rules and negotiate. I find out what hotel they are staying in, what their occupation is and assess their financial capacity against their level of fear before coming up with a figure to fine them.

I don’t normally enjoy extorting money but I feel no guilt at all with this arrogant young prick with his designer clothes, superior attitude and posh accent. He’s certainly showing a bit more respect and remorse than he was last night when we brought him in shouting about Daddy’s law firm in London and how he’d see to it that we’d all regret catching him with a gram of charlie in his pocket outside Q Bar. More often than not, a night in a holding cell with a bucket of shit and a couple of angry Thai yaa baa addicts results in a swift change of attitude.

I explain that the fine has gone up from the hundred thousand baht he was offered last night, to a million baht. I figure that twenty thousand quid should be chicken feed to rich brat like him and Daddy would pay it if he couldn’t. That would give me what I normally average in a month as a snitch and ‘legal advisor.’ He starts jabbering on again about calling his embassy and getting a lawyer and I calmly explain to him that this is a bad idea if he wants his freedom. I tell him that once this happens his case will be logged and become official which will only result in a court appearance, him being remanded in custody and then sentenced to somewhere between ten years and life. He starts sobbing and I feel like punching him in the face. He soon starts to puff up again in mock outrage, slams his fist on the table and demands his phone call. I tell him that this is Thailand and that the rules are different here. I tell him that he is still “off the books” and advise him to pay the “fine” but he begins pompously blustering about being above corruption so I leave him for a few more hours to mull it over.

When I return he has a blood-crusted broken nose, his shirt front is red rather than white and his trousers have been torn almost to shreds. He starts sniveling again and tells me he’ll pay what ever it costs just to get out and I am starting to feel sorry for him now. I explain that with every delay the price goes up and that his freedom will now cost one point two million. He blanches but quickly agrees. We log onto the internet on my laptop and he arranges a transfer to Por’s Dubai account. Por witnesses the transfer but refuses to release him until the funds have cleared which will take another twenty-four hours. The boy breaks down and starts to beg not to be put back in a cell with ”those Thai psychos” but quickly shuts up when Por touches his gun.

When I come back the next day to facilitate his release I am led to a holding room where the boy lies dead on the ground. Gap year over. His face is unrecognizable pulp. Por explains to me that his body will be ‘discovered‘ in the Phra Khanong Canal later this afternoon, his embassy contacted and a murder enquiry launched. The coroner will find drugs in his system and his death will be ruled as a suicidal overdose. Case closed.

Por has his money so he is feeling pretty pleased with himself and with me also. I feel sick. I make it to the bathroom but throw up all over the floor. Then I go to the Robin Hood and start drinking pints and shots and lamenting my life sentence and the role I’d played in the boy’s death sentence. When I get home Por is in the lounge fawning over his grandson, talking about what a powerful and important young man he will soon become. He looks at me with some pride too and I force a smile in return and dump whiskey and ice into a couple of tumblers. We clink glasses and he hands me an envelope thick with money that reeks of blood and death. I take it and I hate him and my life.

Later that night I hold my son in my arms and look into his searching blue eyes and make a silent promise to him that he won’t have to share my punishment. I put him to bed and start to plot our escape.

THE ABBA STORY

It was our last summer together so me and Bobby and Bobby?s brother (whose name is Fernando) decided to spend some more time together, the way old friends do and decided to go on a trip. We arranged to meet at my house in the morning and when the door bell went ring ring I opened the door, but only Bobby was there and I said ?you?re late Bobby, I?ve been waiting for you? and he said, ?sorry Munchy, but I?ve been looking for Fernando and I don?t know where he is?. I looked up and down the street and then I saw him and I said to Bobby ?here he comes?. But on his arrival Bobby started hitting him and shouting at him and I said ?stop it he is your brother?, and he stopped. So I said ?hi? to Fernando and then whispered in his ear, ?I?ve just saved you from a severe beating so you owe me one?. Fernando nodded and then said ?mamma mia, what?s that disgusting mark on your face? and I said ?it?s just a pluke, I saw it in the mirror this morning?.

We decided to head off immediately but before leaving Bobby gave me a new CD by a rock?n roll band called Bang A Boomerang and I said ?thank you for the music Bobby?. I put the CD in the house and just as I was about to close the door Fernando said to me, ?aren?t you going to put on your white sombrero? and I said ?no, I?m not?.

We headed to Waterloo station and asked for 3 tickets to Edinburgh but the train was full so the ticket man said ?what about Livingstone? and we said ?another town, another train?? The ticket man said ?yes, it?s not like Edinburgh but it?s still a good place?, but I said ?I don?t think so?. However the ticket man said ?come on, take a chance on me, you won?t regret it?. Anyway he said there was a special two for the price of one deal on at the moment so I turned to Bobby and Fernando and said ?there?s a two for the price of one deal on tickets to Livingstone so one of us won?t have to pay?. So we agreed to draw straws and the person who drew the short straw had to buy the full price ticket and the other two would split the cost of the two for one ticket between them. Anyway I drew the short straw and thought to myself ?why did it have to be me?.

So we said ?so long? to the ticket man and got on the train. Just as we were getting on the train someone shouted ?watch out for the gap between the train and the platform? and we did. When we got on the train and went to our seats there was a man in the middle of them, so we told him that he was sitting in one of our seats and asked him to move. But he said he wouldn?t and we said he had to and he still said he wouldn?t and we kept saying he had to and this went on and on and on until the inspector arrived and told him to move on. Once he?d moved and we were in our seats, and as it was quite a long journey, we decided to play a game and the name of the game was Disillusion and we decided to play for money and agreed that the winner takes it all.

In the row in front of us was one man, one woman and their young daughter who had lovely blond hair. They introduced themselves to us and told us that their daughters name was Nina and they were going to Livingstone for her ballet lessons. At this I remarked ?Nina pretty ballerina you are the girl with the golden hair?. Then Nina said ?I?m not a ballerina I am just a girl? and then she changed her mind and said ?actually I?m a marionette? and we all looked at each other. Then her mum said ?stop disturbing the young men?, but her dad said ?hey hey Helen, leave her alone, she isn?t doing any harm?. Then Nina said ?I have a dream and when I grow up I want to change my name to Chiguitita and become a dancing queen and make lot?s of money, money, money?. So I said to Nina, ?does your mother know? and Nina said ?my mama said that I should dance, while the music still goes on?.

When we got to Livingstone, which is also known as the summer night city, we walked up the main street and stopped to listen to the piper who was collecting money for charity. When he stopped we asked him why he piped for charity rather than walking around with leaflets and a collection box and he said, ?I let the music speak?. Anyway we wished him a happy new year, which was pretty stupid as it was still August, and went on our way.

As we were walking Bobby stopped and said he had a sore foot, so we sat down on a wall and he took off his shoe so that he could massage his foot. Anyway while he was rubbing I took a look at his shoe, discovered the problem and said to him, ?hey Bobby, you?ve got a hole in your soul?. This was an emergency situation so we issued an S.O.S call and a passing copper stopped and told us where the nearest shoe repair shop was.

In we went to find that it was run by two girls and one of them was gorgeous. Anyway while we were waiting for the shoe to be repaired I got talking to them and it turns out their names were Cassandra and Suzy. I immediately fell head over heals in love with Cassandra and asked her if she could get away from the shop for the rest of the day. Suzy was actually just about to leave for the afternoon but Cassandra said, ?please Suzy hang around for the afternoon and let me go off with Munchy?. Suzy reluctantly agreed and we left Bobby and Fernando in the shop with her.

Once outside Cassandra said, ?the day before you came I went to the fortune teller who said that I would soon meet some visitors from London?, which was pretty uncanny. We decided to go to Dream World and have a go on the merry go round and I was so happy I didn?t know what to do and said to myself, ?should I laugh or cry?. I thought ?she?s my kind of girl and there was no way she?d be slipping through my fingers?.

While on the merry go round we talked about love and Cassandra said ?people need love? and I said ?honey, honey you know love isn?t easy, but it sure is hard enough? and she said ?Super Trouper (she liked to call me that because she was into soldiers), lay all your love on me?. I just looked into her angeleyes and said ?you are like an angel passing through my room? and then to demonstrate my language abilities I said ?voulez-vous coochet avec moi se soir?? and I could just see the lovelight shining in her eyes. She was impressed but said that we hadn?t known each other long enough, to which I responded, ?when all is said and done you are my love, my life and knowing me, knowing you is what it?s all about?. Then I asked her to marry me and she said ?I do, I do, I do, I do, I do? and on hearing those words my heart soared like an eagle.

By this time it was getting late and we were hungry so we headed to the Chinese take away for the midnight special and in a moment of sheer joy Cassandra shouted out ?gimme! gimme! gimme! a man after midnight? and I said ?that?s me baby? and we kissed and it was just like that time back in school when I kissed the teacher. Then we discussed when to get married and where to have our honeymoon and I suggested happy Hawaii that tropical loveland where we could sip our drinks sitting in a palm tree and she said I wonder if that?s where I really want to go and then she mentioned a place called Santa Rosa which her friend Elaine said was really romantic. So I said ?Santa Rosa it is then? and thought to myself, ?this is a crazy world?. Then I said ?let?s go to your place where I?m gonna sing you my love song?, but she said ?I?d prefer you to rock me?.

The first time I was aware of her is when a married friend of mine slept with her one time in his flat when his wife was away. He paid her well and didn?t do anything to hurt her or insult her pride. But as soon as the wife came back she went to the flat and told the wife everything claiming she really loved this man and that he hadn?t told her he was married and had treated her very roughly in bed. This caused a lot of problems for the man and eventually led to divorce. When asked why she said she thought it would be funny.

Another time she stole the apartment keys of a man whose cock she sucked, gave the keys to a group of Thai men she knew, told them he had raped her and not paid her and paid them to turn the place over. When asked why she did this she said his spunk was too salty. He deserved everything.

And it wasn?t as if people were making up gossip about her. Every bad deed she committed she would boast of. The trouble was that, as everyone had at least one guy they wanted to get back at in their lives, a lot of girls secretly admired her and a lot of guys saw her sweet dark young body and felt turned on by the idea that this was a woman completely and utterly evil and thus incredibly sexy. Men are very odd about such things.

I always kept a very polite distance from Nam. I didn?t think I had much to lose but you never knew. She sat with me once or twice. I bought her drinks once or twice and felt that heat from her once or twice but I was always kind of relieved when she went and sat with someone else. On stage she was a performer par excellence. She danced like lightening and always led with the cunt. She wore a string bikini on stage and she?d make men undo the strings with their teeth. She throw beer in their faces. Ram the mouths of their beer bottle up between the lips of her cunt or even in her asshole. The men watched and then, when she handed them their beers back, drank and made a show of drinking. There was just something about her. And, of course, men who?d seen her dance would keep on going back and back to that bar and watch her again like addicts. She?d tell a man she wasn?t going to fuck him because his dick was too small or his gut was too big or he didn?t have hair. And yet even this seemed to draw them in.

Once I was sitting in MacDonald?s in Robinson?s. I don?t often go to MacDonald?s but I just fancied having a tray full of chips and a cup of really shitty coffee. She came in wearing shades in this skin tight silver lame one piece. She looked like some absurd movie star and everyone stared at her. She loved it. She loved all the women who turned their noses up. She loved the leers of all the men. I looked out the window. I was sitting by the window so it was easy. But she came and sat at my table. ?Hello Tilac.? She said.

I tried a smile. ?Hi.?

She started eating my chips which kind of pissed me off but I didn?t like to make a fuss in case she unleashed her hounds of Hell upon me. ?When you take me out somewhere ??

?I wouldn?t have thought I was your type.?

She laughed and leaned back on her chair. So her finely sparkling breasts seemed pushed out towards me. ?Oooh. Tilac chaaa.? She said with a theatrically distinct volume. ?You so handsome man. Of course you my type.?

?Okay.? I said very quietly leaning forward. She leaned forward to me mocking my stance. ?The truth is... I?m deeply afraid of you.?

She laughed. She was really happy. She couldn?t have been happier if she?d just won the state lottery. Well. That?s probably not true. But she seemed overjoyed. ?Good. Very good. Is very good you frai me.? Her eyes widened. ?I am phii sat from Hell and I can swallow your soul.? Then she laughed a pleasantly musical laugh, took off her shades and looked deep into my eyes as she ate my chips. I hadn?t noticed it before but her eyes were a really strange colour. A kind of reddish hazel.

Truth be told I was completely bewitched by her. She was bewitching. It was hard to look away. But then it?s hard to look away from a road accident too. Doesn?t mean you shouldn?t try.

?Hmmm.? She said. ?I think you like look me. I think you like me too much. You want me smoke you right here in front of everybody looking. I can get on my knees here and unzip you here.? She put her hand on my dick underneath the table and raised one eyebrow. ?Hmmmm.? Anyone who looked would have seen this. It wasn?t subtle. ?I take out your dick and I put it in my mouth. Like this.? She put a chip covered in ketchup between her lips. ?Hmmmmm. Everybody looking us.?

?Yeah. I think there are quite a few looking us now.?

She laughed a gentle laugh and removed her hand from my dick and kept eating.

?After you finish here where you go ??

?I don?t know. And you ??

?I go see man. Him say he love me. I not like man talk shit like this. Is why I want him taste another man on me.?

?Nice.?

?No. Not nice. But then you see some woman is nice. You think she can stay long. No. She end up same kon tat. Same slave. She end up marry in farangland stay home all day bua cha tdaay. Or she see man come and man go. Every man bullshit her and every man she believe. When I see woman same this I laugh her face. She cry and keep him picture. Me ? Never. Some woman she believe in Buddha but she smoke farang same me. She think she good heart but she not take care her kid. Me... I same laeew. Same evil. You understand ? If any man try to make me stay I can kill him easy. But you ? You frai me. Is good. I like. Some time I can go with you. Smoke you very good. For funny. I like man not think him big. I like man know him small.?

?Yeah. You got me right. Definitely a small man.?

She nodded and leaned back on the plastic chair as if it was the most comfortable chair in the world. Her body like liquid metal. Her legs open to me underneath the fixed place table with its tray full of fries and the coffee that smelled more like the paper cup it was in than coffee. She smiled a dark little smile and got up. She touched a finger to her lips and placed the finger on mine before putting her shades back on and walking an exaggerated fashion model walk as she left the place. Every eye was upon her. Every guy was probably cursing my good fortune or thinking how disgracefully their women behaved when they went with farang.

Something about this encounter left me in a strange state of mind. It was probably the incongruity of her strolling into MacDonalds. It may have been the way she talked. Maybe I saw something in her that made sense of all the shit I knew she?d done to people. Anyway. I didn?t finish the chips. I had to go to my apartment and have a wank. It didn?t make the feelings go away.

Over the next few days I became Mr Fuckaround. I avoided her bar. I went with woman after woman. Nothing quite worked. Fucking bargirls seemed like chewing old cardboard.

So I decided to stay away from the bar altogether. I felt I needed a rest. I didn?t stay away from bars per se. I just stayed away from bars where there were women. I met up with old friends. I tried to take an interest in all the small pursuits as pursued by the expat community with wives. I was at some consular do when I ran into a guy called Toby who said he knew me well but who I didn?t know from Adam. He started ranting on about this and that. Apparently we?d met each other at some Soi Cowboy bar where women ran their fingers over every inch of your body while you had your beer. ?Ah... That Toby.? I said. I still didn?t know who the fuck he was.

?I met this amazing woman.? He said. I don?t know why but I knew exactly what was coming. Life has this terrible habit of throwing coincidences at you that only the stupidest writer in the world would put in a story. ?For some reason she has a terrible reputation but I think it?s just a kind of professional jealousy.?

?I?m sure you?re right.?

?The truth is I haven?t had too much experience with women like this. Just a few nights out on the town so to speak.?

?Really.?

?Yes. I mean you?ve spent a few years hanging around with...?

?Hookers. Whores. And the odd prostitute.?

?Exactly. And I wonder if you have any tips on how you can tell the good ones.?

?Toby. I don?t mean to be rude but... Listen. Could you just get the fuck away from me. This sort of talk really winds me up. Nobody can help someone in this way. She might be an angel from above or a demon from Hell.?

?Sorry.? He said and I automatically felt like shit.

?No. I?m sorry. But I?m not the man to ask about bargirls. I fuck up every time.?

But then she appeared and stood right by his side. She was wearing a strapless evening dress and an expensive looking necklace with what could well have been diamonds. She smiled when she saw me. ?Hello Tilac chaa. I miss you many days.?

Toby didn?t seem to spot anything. Maybe he was deaf as well as stupid. ?Turk. This is Nam. Nam this is Turk.? She held out her hand to be kissed and had this mischievous glint in her eye that matched the sparkle of her necklace. I took her hand and bowed very slightly as if I was meeting the Queen.

She laughed as if this looked every bit as funny as it felt. Then she draped herself on Toby in a way that was probably not entirely appropriate, though consular etiquette is not one of my Mastermind topics. Toby looked a little uncomfortable but he was in love and was quite ready to flush his entire life down the toilet by hanging around the wrong places with the most evil bargirl in town.

?Darling.? She said to Toby. ?Can you get me another drink ??

Toby said ?Righto?

?And I think your friend need another drink too. Scotch isn?t it Tilac ??

I nodded and Toby seemed too happy to oblige.

?You seem to have him well trained.? I said.

?Oh yes. Very young boy in here.? She pointed to her head. ?Big man down here.? She patted my dick.

?Really ?? I said. ?Who?d have thought.?

?Not like you.? She said standing a bit too close.

?It seems every time we meet we end up talking about my dick.?

?I know you think about me tilac. Why you not come my bar ??

?Well. You know. Work work work .?

She laughed that small musical laugh and then whispered in my ear so her breath seemed to caress me. ?I think you not come because you frai me.?

?Yeah. That too.?

Toby came back with the drinks. She took hers and drifted away. I don?t know where to. ?So what do you think of her ??

?Oh. She?s a real diamond. No doubt about it. Probably not the kind of person I?d bring to a place like this though.?

?She really wanted to come.?

?Did she really ? Well. It?s been very nice meeting you Toby.? I knocked back my whisky. ?But I really have to be toddling along.?

?Of course. Of course.?

Maybe I should have warned him. But then experience has shown me that nobody will ever believe a warning about a bargirl. All you do is make yourself an enemy for life when it turns out you?re right.

Toby came unstuck with her and got transferred somewhere else. It was probably another one of Nam?s little evil jokes. I don?t know exactly what she did. Something about going down on a French dignitary under a dining table where his wife was also sitting. I didn?t ask for the details.

I saw her again a few days later. She was back to dancing like wild erotic fire in the bar. She did a whole set of bottle tricks without taking her eyes away from me for more than a few seconds. Other guys in the bar were starting to look my way as if I was some fucker who had come in and taken their candy. I left and went to eat dinner in a nearby restaurant.

She joined me at my table wearing one of the bar gowns with nothing on underneath. I knew she was wearing nothing underneath because she sat at the table opposite with her legs apart. ?Why you not stay my bar. I make show just for you.?

I smiled. ?You are good. Very very good. I?m genuinely impressed.?

She smiled not detecting any trace of sarcasm.

?Why did you do it ??

?Because I love you tilac. I love your weakness. I know you like him but I know you never tell him who I am. If you tell him maybe he keep job.?

The waitress came to our table and brought me a drink. I could tell in a second that this waitress hated Nam deeply. I didn?t know why. Nam took her arm. ?Bring me vodka and tonic.?

The waitress pulled her arm free and Nam looked pleased with herself.

?What did you do to her ?? I asked.

Nam just shrugged. Like she didn?t know why some people took such a dislike to her.

?Who are you ??

She looked at me smiling with that little glint glinting away in her blood hazel eyes. ?I?m the one who take your soul. I smoke you and suck you in. I keep you inside me. For ever.?

Her legs touched mine. I could smell her. The rich sweet smell of her demon cunt just lightly sprinkled with French perfume.

?You want me. Every time you fuck another woman you see me. Every time you sit back want to think of nothing you think of me.?

I nodded. ?Maybe. But I?m still afraid of you.?

The waitress slammed her drink on the table and Nam laughed. I laughed too. Shit. When it came right down to it that was my best defence. So we sat there and she played her game and I just enjoyed it. We sat there until the chairs were going up on the table.

We shared a taxi home. While on the way back sitting together she took my hand and said ?feel.?

She put my hand on her cunt. It was hot and damp. She looked at me and raised her eyebrows. Then we arrived at the apartment building where she lived. ?Good night tilac chaaa.? She said and darted off into the night still wearing nothing but her bar gown.

The taxi took me all the way home.

7tkLzV3gbBU

Sten shook his head in disbelief as the Ryder's opened fire preemptively.

"Those gunning fools! They are to cover the windows and roof to prevent his escape, not shoot him to death. By the Nex I should of petitioned House Soliter not the Fell Ryder's. You call this even-handed Merth!?" Sten cried, stunned by the sudden turn in expectations.

"He's a Pathfinder they face Sten, Fell Ryder's aren't soft like the Watch Ryder's are. Especially when facing hard-cases like this. "

"Maybe, maybe. But there could be consequences in doing this. The 'finder has a small-following. Perhaps I've taken this gambit too far." Sten said, he looked through the mag-lenses as another passing attack caused gunfire to echo back sharply.

"He brought this on himself Sten, how many times was he told to shut his ranting mouth? No faction declare's him there's. He belongs to no land or country even. Calm yourself and let the Enforcers and Ryder's do their work." Merth the Isol bodyguard responded. For a brutish-looking one he was quite intelligent.

"I know, but I fear the locals may yet rally to him." Sten cast a few worried glances about but the place was quiet and still, but for their activity.

"The locals may rally, but you're getting rid of that which threatens your own ways. Think of your own family and little ones how Galt indirectly affects them too." Merth said sagely.

"Well said Merth." Sten agreed readily.

Suddenly a set of steel shutters now rattled upwards at the entranceway. The way-in was now open and someone was leaving!

"That'll be the honey-trap I planted." Sten gleamed with satisfaction.

"She's the one from the hostess bar? The one who told us of this place?" Merth quizzed.

"Yes, it took a while but she managed to get her claws in for us to know what we needed." Sten said, the gleam of a smile about it.

Sure enough, it was the yellow-skinned girl, Lek who was their eyes and ears into Galts world, just barely dressed but determined to move.

Lek had been crucial in tracking down Galt to his home base and the week long insidering meant sharing a bed and her body for the Galts pleasures.

She ran from the building towards them. For a moment he feared that one of the trigger-happy Fell Ryders would shoot her out of movements sake but they concentrated on the building itself, obviously firing whenever they caught a glimpse of Galt within...

Story and Voice by: Tyler Dannan

Full Story Here:

http://www.divinglore.com/Chronicles_Of_The_Ryder.html

Into this world come two bitter internet rivals.

'Stenman' moves in as 'Galt's' Downfall seem's assured...

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A new day dawned at the picturesque village of Parohm.

Yet this was not going to be another day of leisure for the one the Triamese called 'The laughing Pathman' or 'The Great Galt' as he called himself amid the cyberspace world known as the Nexus.

As Galt slowly stirred in his soft bed he reached out and felt the warm form of the girl he'd met the previous week, she warmed a little to his touch and he felt the boozy fumes of the previous nights doings fade away.

In his eye's these were the glory days. Far from his home Faction and answerable to no-one but himself he was master of all he surveyed. It was still dark. The second and third-floors external shutters, installed at some expense, kept out the daylight nicely.

The light armoured pick-up was the first to arrive two blocks distant and the Galt's keen ear picked it up. Yet as he did so, as if with some synchronicity his lady in the bed began responding to his earlier touch and soon his mind was on other things.

Meanwhile the pick-up truck containing several armed Triamese enforcers now debused and lined the buildings along the river and faced the direction of Galts workshop retreat.

Following the enforcer truck was an airborne trio of Fell Ryders, not allied to any faction but only to adventure, women and that which provided it, gold. They travelled in no vehicles, but on portable flight unit's that were about the size of a backpack which they wore to fly about in.

Similar to Watch Ryder's but with a more baser approach to all levels of life, they preferred a life with any rules and would sell their unique ability's to the highest bidder. That bidder was no miser when it came to those he was patron to.

The three descended to near-ground level, but stayed lofty from the enforcers, knowing they were jealous and envied their equipment's ability for powered flight. They looked past them and watched as another land-based vehicle approached them.

This was their current master, a Caucus Zealander named Sten who hated Galt with a blazing intensity.

He too worked within the Nexus, writing as 'Stenman'. A Nex Warrior of some note and Galts sworn nemesis.

Over the course of many months the time had come for a showdown, with Galt as the besieged.

Sten was accompanied by another, a tough and veteran Isol warrior who was his personal bodyguard, confidante and sometime friend Merth.

Sten had felt insulted and humiliated at the stinging and barbed wordings from the Galt. They'd been spread around the Nexus by this one called The Galt. Time and time again an entry onto the Nexus logs, read by many thousands, was being made. Daily in some cases. Initially laughed at, then ignored, before finally upsetting and annoying too many of Sten's ally's and contacts something had to be done. Many were starting to desert his own Nexus logsite and even questioned his own story's and ways. This was unacceptable and now the whirlwind had arrived to tidy up his mess once and for all. He was a senior Nexus writer afterall!

There was even talk on the Nex boards that House Soliter would be severing it's ties with his lucrative trade-mission's that exhanged data-chips for mono-atomic gold. Some even claimed House Jade's northern frontier would now be switching it's patronage to a less belleguered Nex

This was the culmination of many months work. Locating and tracking down the Galt had taken time and resources, months of scouring the land of Triam for clues and references. Narrowing down and prioritising as the net drew tighter.

It was a random enquiry at a girly house that saw him directed to exactly to where Galt's workshop was. He wasn't sure what it made, some said it was parts for two-wheeler signalling, other's it was something else entirely.

One thing was for certain in Sten's mind.

The playboy Pathfinder had made his last entry onto his Nex Log that many thousands were reading.

A sharp voice snapped Sten out of his thoughts.

"Well, make your call Stenman, we can't wait any longer!" Trelt barked at Sten on the radio-net.

Full Story Here:

Source Content Here:

http://www.divinglore.com/Chronicles_Of_The_Ryder_Downfall_Of_The_Galt.html

Thanks to Tyler Dannan for the use of his voice in bringing the 'The King of Edens Clout' to life

snAwe2w-big

A cautionary tale from Bangkok, Thailand.

Voice by Tyler Dannan.

Lyrics by Watch Ryder.

A newcomer to Thailand arrives but get's more than he bargains for when he enter's 'Edens Club' off Sukhumvit Road, Bangkok!

Lyrics:

He came into Bangkok, king of the swing, money in his pocket and a smoking grin.

'Where's the Thai ladies, I hear they're everywhere?'

'Go to Eden's Sir, plenty of women there'

Into Eden's he strode, money rumbling his clothes for he was the farang with a large nose.

'What would you like sir? One drink and then choose.'

The surgeon looked out, his old eyes a-gleam, as several women shook his man-thing.

'I have money to play with Frenchman, but what are the rules?'

'Two girls at a time, they'll make your noodle explode but now sir now please choose.'

4,000 baht later and he's taken two to the room. It's one guy and two girls you know what they do.

Vibrators and dildos, movements and jerkings, pretty soon the surgeons knee's are a-quirking.

His mind is a-buzz and his noodle is jiving, nothing before has he seen this enlivening.

The Girls do their thing and make him feel like a man, he's on cloud nine now as he 'joins' the Eden gang.

Once he returns the Frenchman is smiling and randy, he know's the sugar daddy has landed.

'What more for the surgeon? You look all anew and dainty.'

'I want them to join me, my hotel is waiting, do what you must, but keep this game entertaining.'

With that the show really started as the legend of Eden's Clout made his mark imparted.

Now not five, but six mercedes with tricks began ferrying the eden's girls to Hotel Essex.

Each night it went on and the money did flow, as this sugar daddy went out of control!

Full Lyrics and Story available here:

http://www.ontheroadthailand.com/Bangkok%20Erotica%20King%20of%20Edens%20Clout.html

Copyright: http://www.ontheroadthailand.com

old memebrs, ignore it, this is old hat for you.

-------------

04/17/02 03:28 PM - Post#71388

The day before my departure, back in BKK, while I am still in bed in my appt, a knock on the door.

Nok.

�What are you doing here?�

�You come with me, we go hospital, get rid of baby.�

I am not too keen, realize she�d come here only to get me to pay for the operation, and expect a rough time. But I am very keen to be sure that indeed the baby is no more, since that would give me some peace of mind in future. So I get dressed, and come along.

We try two places, the Place in Soi 12 (Cabbages and Condoms), where she gets turned down because of the stage of pregnancy, and another hospital, that also refuses for the same reason. 12-13 weeks, too late, is the answer.

All the way in the cabs from hospital and hospital, she bitches at me, what a bad boring old man I am. I realize she�s nervous and tense, I don�t take any notice of the bitching. After the second refusal, we drive back to Sukhumvit, where we part company.

I leave the next afternoon, uncertain about the baby's fate.

While back home, I get two phonecalls from Nok. One, she tells me she loves me, Ted is no good after all (!). Next phonecall, she asks "when you come back to BKK, can you go to the bar and pay bar for my sister?"

Me: o you want me to sleep with your sister?"

Nok: "No, of course not, only pay bar. She is a new girl, and after she has gotten 8 barfines, she'll get a steady job with 7 or 8 K baht pay."

She keeps surprising me. By doing what she asks me to do, I'd actually collude, and assist a woman to get a job in a bar, when I know the woman can do an excellent job elsewhere. I try to explain to Nok that i believe Sister should be at home, driving the car. "Sister have problem in village (e.g. she lost face at the cancellation of the wedding)".

I tell her no way will I barfine her sister.

*Edited after posting:*

Then I receive a very welcome email from Ted. He informs me that two days after I left, he accompanies her to a doctor who prescribes some pills. Two days after that she is admitted to hospital, and under anaestetic, the fetus is removed. I email him back and ask if there is any room for error, if maybe she sneaked out the backdoor of the operating theatre when he wasn't looking, and he says there is absolutely no doubt, the baby is no more.

*END OF EDIT. Sorry guys, I lost that paragraph in the editing process, but it is very important, so I put it back in.*

When I return from a trip back to �my country� a few weeks later, she phones me. She changed her mind and wants to be back with me. I decline, and she�s been raising hell ever since.

She came around one night to my appt, wanted to talk. I�m a sucker, opened the door. We talk for a while, she tells me she intends to go work in the bar again, probably in Patpong, for about three months, until she has enough money to buy an irrigation pump for her land, and a "Carryboy" top for the pickup truck. Then she'll be able to work on her land and with her car, and raise enough to live off. I suggest that she goes and gets a job like a hairdresser beautician, what she trained for. "Maybe later".

Then she demands everything we�d bought for the appt over the 8 wks together. (radio, fan, sheets, towels, bedlight, cooking gear, jug, toaster etc etc.) to be handed over to her. I decline and say she was the one who left me and moved out to be with her BF (I luvv Ted", care for you, but not luvv you, luvv him"), her decision, up to her now to look after herself (besides, I�d taken care of her and her family very well over time, enough is enough).

She says: �can I play some music�. I reply: �No, I lent my ghettoblaster to a friend�. She says: �Friend Puying??�, and flips. Starts raving at me, screaming she�ll kill me, goes to my fridge, grabs a full bottle of Singha, smashes it on the bench, and says she�ll kill me now, coming at me with the broken bottle waving.

Wow!

I manage to ward her off, and take the bottle away. After she calms down, she sits on the floor, and cleans the glass. Ten minutes later I notice that she�d scratched herself all over her arms (Deliberately), not bad enough to bleed profusely, but enough to create a mess. Further calmed, and cleaned up, I stick her in a cab home.

I had learnt from Ted that she'd pulled the broken bottle/wrist carving on him twice before, once in public in the middle of NEP.

Next day, phonecall : �I want radio, fan etc�

I say no!

A few hours later, I receive a phonecall from my former wife in my country, worried, because she got a call on the answerphone from this Thai women who said I�d been in a very bad accident, and was severely injured!

So I phone Nok, and suggest she cuts out the crap, finished is finished.

She informs me that she had someone take a picture of me with a woman (What? ME??, Never), and will send it to my family and tell them I sleep with many women here. I call her bluff.

Wonder what the next game is.

Haven�t heard from her since, now about a week ago. I�m on my way out of here, for a while, or for good, don�t know yet for certain. It�s been an interesting time.

When I now read my first posts, just after I met her two years ago, I smile at my innocence.

Yet, it's all been done and written about before. I suppose everyone has to find out by experience. I certainly did!

I hold no blame or bad feelings for her. She made some silly decisions, but is to a large extent a product of her circumstances.

I am sorry our split turned acrimonious, but maybe it is better this way, less likely for me to get sucked in again.

I wish her all the best, but am not to sure about her future. I don't think she'll limit her barwork to only three more months. It is just too easy to make a dollop of baht in a short time, compared to work as a hairdresser of farmer. It is addiction to quick money, maybe the same as for the guys it is addiction to cheap and easy sex.

Last I heard, day before my departure, was that a board member met her at Thermae, where she accosted him for a drink, chewed his ear about her bad luck, and turned somewhat crazy on him.

It leaves me rather sad, but I cannot take responsibility again.

This is it. Feedback welcome.

And assigned a random portion of her abused self to love?

You will be tortured from 7 o?clock until 1 in the morning on evenings of your choice

You need never choose

But you do not have enough resources not to

Choosing not to will betray your wife and son in any case

You will be allowed to choose to numb the pain anytime

By fucking other women and using any drug

You can betray your love

Any man who walks through the door may buy her

Some men who fuck her will be better than you

Some men who fuck her will be richer than you

Some will be younger

Others will want to seduce her mind too

One will take her away

You may go and watch this any time

You can betray your love

You may ask her to stop

She will do so willingly but the next night she will start again

Her culture and face demand she not tell you how she really feels and how she really fucks

but you may read about it on the internet the next day

You will be allowed to believe if she doesn?t betray you

she, her mother and father and younger brothers will not eat

This may not be true

She may not love you enough to betray you

You can betray your love

You will ask your love to send a message to stop the torture at one o?clock

She will not understand and the pain will continue until dawn

You can feel she betrayed you

You can be angry with her

She will forgive you and love you a little less

You can choose not to believe in her

You can choose to forgive her without her knowing

You will know your love has no future

You can betray your love

You will undergo the transformation of her into torturer in the hours of the wolf

You will be told she cannot love

You will be told she is a liar

You can believe this if you want

You can beg her to stop and she will stop respecting you

She will see you so that she cannot keep the contempt out of her voice

The torture will continue under the same terms until you repudiate her

You can betray your love

In the morning you will have to wring out the sweat from your mattress

And smile at those who depend on you

You can betray your love

After six weeks, against all this, all you will have is her saying;

?You know I love you, why do you suffer??

That

And your conviction of love

Phailin was not what you would call a bright girl: her happy life of little rich girl had made her superficial; nonetheless she managed to make it to university with average academic performances. However, her father who wanted the best possible future for his daughter decided that it would be better to send her to study abroad, with the idea that the prestige of an American or British diploma would balance her modest intellectual skills. But for that, she needed to improve her English drastically so Phailinâ??s Dad looked to hire a skilled teacher for private lessons. One of his friends that owned an English language institute recommended a guy called Dan: â??A really bright guy, he basically does teaching miracles. I must warn you, though, he is a little bit weird and I believe he is perhaps inclined to get drunk in his free timeâ?¦ but heâ??s the most serious professional and we never had any problems with him.â?Â

When Phailinâ??s father interviewed Dan, he could see what his friend meant. Dan was the kind of guy hardened by a tough personal history, some family or sentimental drama, probably. That wasnâ??t Khun Sayapornâ??s business anyway, and the guy made a quite good general first impression. Dan was hired on the spot without any bargaining on his fees. Regretting not to have quoted higher, Dan was hopeless at ever becoming business-savvy.

As soon as the deal was sealed, Khun Sayaporn called his daughter to introduce teacher and pupil. When Phailin came in her Dadâ??s private office-room, a massive adrenaline-rush spread in Danâ??s blood: the creature that just made her entrance was beautiful beyond any description. Phailin was not just extremely attractive: there was something incredibly seducing in her way of being, her walk, her smile, her soft voice and the natural elegance of her moves. On top of that, she was dressed with outstanding taste, her dress carefully chosen to enhance the features of her perfect body. Despite having seen dozens of Thai stunning beauties, Dan could hardly believe his eyes.

Phailin greeted him with a respectful wai, slightly bowing her head: â??Sawatdee Kaaâ?Â. â??Sawatdee Khrapâ?Â, Dan gibbered, reciprocating with an awkward wai. Khun Sayaporn talked to his daughter in Thai: â??Phailin, meet Khun Dan, he will be your private teacher to help improve your English as we agreed. I believe the both of you will do some great work together.â? Phailin smiled wide and then shyly attempted an â??I am vely nite to meet you, Sir!â? â??Oh, that is incorrect Phailin.â? Dan explained in Thai, â??You should say either â??I am very pleased to meet youâ? or just â??Nice to meet youâ? without â??I amâ?Â. Anyhow, Iâ??m delighted to meet you too, Khun Phailin.â?Â

***********************************

Back to his small apartment, Danâ??s first priority was to pour a generous swig of Red from a half-emptied bottle, vaguely hoping it would offset the persisting vision of Khun Phailin imprinted in his mind. He hated that she did such effect on him; he despised himself to be so easily impressed by a womanâ??s looks. Contrarily to the expected result, the whisky transformed his tormented emotions into a furious sexual desire.

Luckily it was Wednesday night, Tingâ??s night. Dan first met Ting at her workplace, a famous Bangkok massage parlor. After going from a cold-hearted greedy bargirl to another, discovering Ting was a blessing to him. She was quite pretty and witty; she would not knock him out with endless babbling or try to lure him with some typical bargirlâ??s bullshit. Her sexual skills were fairly above average and her gentleness was such that it was quite hard not to want her again. Dan didnâ??t resist it and came back several times at the massage parlor until the two of them found an arrangement for a weekly private session.

Ting liked Dan a lot and soon considered him as a friend, not a mere customer; it wasnâ??t hard for her to figure out that he was on a tight budget, so, one day, she told him he shouldnâ??t waste his money paying the massage parlor, she would come to his place and he would pay her what he could when he could. She knew he wouldnâ??t abuse of that favor and anyway he was helping her greatly at improving her English: Dan couldnâ??t help the professional reflex of correcting her mistakes and trying to improve her syntax and vocabulary.

Ting knew what she wanted, though: for her, Dan was not husband-material, even though she often had to resist the urge to say she loved him. What Ting wanted was to marry a man that would provide material security; feelings and emotions were not on her priority list. Being a massage parlor girl, she knew she had little chance to find a Thai man fitting the profile and willing to accept her past as a sex-worker, so she focused her quest on farang men, hence her interest to enjoy a free (and unconscious) English course with a professional like Dan. At 26 years old, Ting felt under pressure to find that providential husband. Not that she was poor: she was doing quite well with her controversial job, but she knew it wouldnâ??t last forever. Although she worked hard and spent substantial money to stay fit and attractive, her value could only decrease as she was heading to her thirties; younger new girls were coming massively, giving a tough competition.

As Dan showed her in the apartment, Ting saw the whisky and asked â??Why you drink tonight? You never drink when I come here. If you drink too much, not good for boom-boom!â? She giggled. Dan laughed too: â??Letâ??s say Iâ??m celebrating, I found a very rich customer for private English lessons. Itâ??s going to ease my fucked-up financesâ?¦â? he explained. â??Yeah? Good news, right? So I want a drink too! Itâ??s not good you drink alone!â? she stated. â??Oh? I didnâ??t know you drink?â? said Dan, a little bit surprised. â??Only sometimes!â? she answered.

Ting asked Dan who was the rich person that hired him; he told her. â??Ooooh!! I know, I know!â? she exclaimed. â??Well, Mr. Sayaporn is famous in town.â? Dan nodded. â??Yes, yes, but I know the girl, Phailin, she goes same fitness center as me! She very very beautiful, right?â? Phailin grinned. Dan tried to change the topic: â??Same fitness center, huh? I bet a girl like that wouldnâ??t go to any fitness center, must be a top-class and expensive one, how come you can spend that much?â? Ting giggled and explained that the manager of that SPA and fitness center was her relative. That man paid for her membership, in exchange of some services: every now and then a customer asked him if there was a way to get a â??specialâ? with the masseuses, but it was a big no-no in the company policies: it was absolutely forbidden for the staff to engage in such activities (and anyway the concerned employees were not the kind to go for it). Tingâ??s uncle, the manager, figured out a way to satisfy that particular demand, with the tacit blessing of the owners. He would use a few freelancers that could do a decent massage and would agree to perform the â??extra-servicesâ?Â. Knowing his niece was in the business, he proposed her the deal and also asked her to find a few other girls. Needless to say, the uncle asked for a cut on the â??service feesâ?Ââ?¦

â??Now, why you no answer me? Phailin is very beautiful, yes or no?â? insisted Ting. â??Well yeah, I guess we can say thatâ?¦â? admitted Dan. â??You like her, no?â? Ting asked perfidiously. â??Sheâ??s just my student, Ting. Iâ??m a serious guy; I donâ??t mess around with students.â? Ting grinned; she was a little bit tipsy, not really used to drink alcohol. She came to sit on Danâ??s lap and whispered in his ear: â??You donâ??t want to say. Mai pen rai. I know you want boom-boom Phailin.â? In the meantime her hand was wandering on Danâ??s crotch. The stiffening bulge she felt underneath his pants confirmed her intuition. She naughtily rubbed on it, making it grow in size and stiffness. She licked his lips like she loved to do; she was highly aroused by the combination of Danâ??s presence, the drink and the mental picture of the very polite and divinely attractive Phailin doing what Ting was doing now: surreptitiously unzipping Danâ??s pants and taking his manhood in her soft hand, stroking it and feeling it throbbing on her palm. Ting went down on her knees and, teasingly, walked her pointy tongue along Danâ??s shaft. She looked in his eyes, smiled widely and plunged the erect penis deep in her mouth, letting out a soft moan.

I say the Thermae was busy... And it was. But it was definitely a seller?s market tonight. Busloads of Japanese and Taiwanese in their early twenties occupied most of the women. A few disgruntled farang sat looking disgruntled as what was left of the women dithered around them waiting to be grabbed.

No-one dithered around me. I guess I had the mark of Nam on me. Don?t go with him. He lives with a crazy woman.

?You mind if I sit here ??

I looked up and saw her. Yenetchka. She had a kind of superior knowing smile.

?No. Go ahead. Fancy a bit of my sandwich ??

?I heard about Nam moving in with you.?

?News really travels quick in these parts.?

?I like you Turk.?

?I like you too. You hungry ??

?Always... But I don?t much like the food here.?

?You don?t know what you?re missing. I?ll buy you a big bowl of chips. You can dip them in a little pool of ketchup like the locals do.?

?There?s a twenty four hour bistro in my apartment building. We can order anything off the menu.?

?Maybe later. Are you drinking or just looking for a date ??

?Drinking.?

I caught the eye of one of the waiters. We ordered more drinks. Yenetchka searched her purse. I thought she was looking for money but it was something else.

?You okay.? I said.

She gave me a picture of a little blonde girl and her even littler blonde boy.

?Cute kids.?

?The girl is me. The boy was my brother.?

?I can see the resemblance.?

?I loved him very much... We used to look out for each other... Or I used to look out for him. But you know how things go. Boys never grow up right. Something happens.?

?Oh.?

?He went wrong... Disappeared. Got caught up in the wrong kind of world.?

I handed the picture back to her. Drinks came... We drank.

?You have family Turk ??

?Yes. But...? A silence hung in the air for a moment too long.

?You don?t like to talk about it. It?s okay.?

?No... It?s not that... Well... It is that but it?s not just that.?

She smiled a wide smile. ?What is it then ??

?How did you find me here ??

?You?re not a difficult man to find.?

?Let me put it another way... Why were you looking for me ??

She shrugged a small shrug. ?I just thought we should get to know each other better.?

?Yeah ??

?I wanted to tell you a story...?

?Does it have a happy ending ??

?It?s not that kind of a story.? She smiled. ?I happen to know you have a fair bit of time on your hands. Nam won?t be back until tomorrow afternoon. This guy she?s with... He?s one of those guys who want to save her. Good for regular money but a real time waster. You know the kind. Probably try to drag her to church on Sunday to get her to confess to all her sins.?

?Oh...?

?But apparently he has a very big dick.? She laughed.

?So this story...?

?Oh... You have to come back to my place. I can?t tell it here.?

?Where is your place ??

?We?ll take a taxi.?

I nodded. I?d go along. I figured I?d reached a stage in my life where I?d go along with just about anything. Yenetchka pushed her way through half a dozen part-time couples and grabbed us a taxi. I figured that between the two of us she was the man and followed her into the back seat.

She told the driver to take us to Soi 55 and then relaxed back in the seat taking my hand in hers and placing it on her leg sliding it gently along denim thigh and looking at me with an ironically raised eyebrow... Just like Nam. When the hand was close to her crotch she said ?How many ??

?How many what ??

?How many women have you sat in the backs of cabs with like this ? How many women have you felt your heart fucking before you ever got any where near to their beds ??

?One or two.?

She laughed again.

?You want to fuck me or are you thinking about Nam ??

?Being honest...?

?That?s the only way to be.?

?Both.?

?Hmmm. See ! I knew we were going to get along.?

I felt a definite rush of blood to the head.

The cab pulled up at her request... There were three apartment buildings here close to each other. Hers was the most expensive looking. An indoor pool behind darkened glass walls. A well tended garden area. Provision shops and a small restaurant that actually looked like a restaurant.

We stepped into the lift which seemed to move really slowly. She smiled, took my hand, and pressed her body against mine as if prompted by non-existent jerkiness in the lift.

Her body seemed hotter than hot and I could imagine us slipping into a velvety darkness stripped naked and uncaring of what might come.

The lift stopped and the doors opened with exactly the same ?shhh? sound of the doors in Star Trek.

?Tung laaw? she said in the exaggerated drawn out vowels of Issaan Thai.

Her room was tasteful. It looked as though she?d had some professional designer in to make her room look good but had never actually lived here. Her liquor cabinet was so well stocked I half imagined to see a mini-bar price list on the inside of the front door.

?Sit down. Lie down. Make yourself comfortable.? She said while pouring me a measure of a Scotch I?d never heard of. I sat on the bed and she smiled. The whisky was excellent.

?There must be money in following people.? I said.

?Well... I like to keep my finger in a number of pies. It?s always beneficial to have an income you don?t have to earn in addition to the one you do. But then you?d know about that !?

She sat on the other side of the bed to me and rested her blonde head on my shoulder for a beat or two. Her hair seemed almost like gold lightly scented with frankincense and myrrh.

?When I was a little girl there was a great old castle on a hill. It was supposed to belong to a family who had fought off the tartars. Of course it was deserted. All such places were deserted. My father used to tell me stories about how the people who lived there used to kidnap children from surrounding villages and torture them to death because such people could only sleep well if they could hear the screams of children. My father was a very stupid man.?

She topped up my whisky.

?As I was growing up the place became more and more fascinating to me. Me and my brother decided that we would see for ourselves. See what kind of ghosts really lay in the place. I think I was eleven at the time. My brother would have been about eight. We woke up while it was still night and I stole my father?s truck... Of course we didn?t get half way there. My father came after us as soon as he realised the truck was missing. But we saw these two children standing on the hillside staring back at us. At the time I thought they were ghosts because they looked so strange. Their eyes seemed so blue that they looked as if they had been drowned.

?Of course my father caught up with us. He caught up with us and took us back home. When he got us home he beat me with his belt. I mean he really beat me.?

?When everything fell apart we went to America. We had family already there and our family had money. We lived for a while in Boston and then moved to San Francisco. I didn?t want to go because I was scared of the earthquakes but when I got there I loved it. You could go anywhere in San Francisco and nobody asked you who you were or where you came from. It was like being invisible. And then there were the fogs. It could be the hottest day of the year but then one of those fogs would just creep across the city and hold you right in the chill of winter. It was in the middle of one of these fogs that I saw Irina.?

?I was Fifteen. I should have been in school but I?d crept away using the fog as cover. When I saw her I thought she was one of the children I?d seen standing on the hillside back home. Her eyes were that same blue. She was sitting on a bench in the park just staring out like she was possessed. She was a little older than me. Maybe a lot older than me. I couldn?t tell. Her hair was black as the cruellest night and her skin was as pale as her eyes. But her body... Her body looked like it was fire... She saw me staring at her and just smiled... She knew things about me that I didn?t know myself. The fog was like ice around us but she didn?t seem touched by it.?

?I walked away. Just went and hung out in the coffee shop to read. But I couldn?t get her out of my head... Or out of my cunt. From that night on I couldn?t sleep unless I fucked myself. And I always thought of her. I was what you might call an easy lay. I let boys fuck me and every time I?d close my eyes and imagine it was her... This woman I?d seen one time. Then I discovered women, San Francisco is an easy place to find dykes, and I let them fuck me too and every time I?d be thinking of her.?

?I saw her the second time when I was about seventeen. It was in the fog... In the park. In that exact same place in fact. And she knew me. She knew me. I was braver by now... I went and sat down beside her. I asked her if she remembered me. She nodded and smiled as if I was always hers. I bumbled like an awkward kid and told her that ever since the first time I saw her I hadn?t been able to get her out of my mind. She smiled and without saying a thing she just kissed me on the lips... In the middle of that freezing fog she led me off to some bushes and told me that this was where gay men went to fuck... She told me to undress completely and I did it without even thinking. The blood was pumping so much I didn?t even feel the cold. Then she told me to lie down and spread my legs. So I did. And I lay back there completely open and completely exposed to her. She opened her blouse and lowered herself on top of me kissing every inch of me... Then kissing me between the legs... Kissing my cunt... Biting and chewing on me...Getting rougher and rougher with me... And the rougher she became with her biting the more I wanted her to completely devour me... I never thought about someone coming or the cold or anything. I just wanted to be food for her. Then she moved over me and kissed my breasts, my neck, my lips and worked her fingers deep inside me and fucked me like a man... With that same urgency that a man has as if her fingers were aching to come inside me. When I came she smiled and told me that she had to go. And then she just went leaving me lying there naked in the fog. I tried to go after her picking up my clothes but she was gone as if she?d never been there in the first place.?

?I went back day after day. All I wanted was to find her. All I wanted was to feel her lips on my body again. She was never there.?

?I ended up with men of course. I had an advantage with men. It was easy for me to get money. If I wanted to start some business I could always find a man who, for a fuck or two, would bankroll me. You get a lot more money this way than simply being honest about it and being a hooker. Most men are pretty stupid. I conned a lot of them using my cunt as collateral. And the funny thing is that when I led them to believe my little schemes had gone belly up most of them were willing to lend me more money to start again.?

?I was with one of my boyfriend-stroke-investors when I saw her again. It was in a small restaurant in the Mission District. A trendy little place in the middle of the shit. It was made out to look like a bar with structural problems. Great dark wood beams everywhere. Dark wood and dark corners filled with laughing rich people. I saw her staring at me in one of the dark corners. A man was talking to her and not noticing that he didn?t have her. He just kept talking and talking while she didn?t take her eyes off me. I could almost feel her hands on me. Feel her lips on my cunt. Then the man she was with noticed. He noticed he didn?t have her and he looked at me too. He smiled at me. Something about him was wrong. I couldn?t say what exactly but it was really wrong. My boyfriend hadn?t spotted any of this... He was eating but I must have looked shaken because he asked me if I was all right. I said I was okay. I was just tired. He went back to eating. But this man with Irina... He just kept staring at me. Irina saw I was upset and looked at her companion... Suddenly there was something terrible in her eyes. Complete horror. Complete dread. In my head I suddenly heard the screams of children and I felt sure that this man was the man who owned the castle where children were tortured to death.?

Yenetchka almost laughed at herself. She saw my drink was almost empty and refilled my glass.

?They left the restaurant. I didn?t see them leave. They were just gone. While my boyfriend was fucking me I just kept seeing the face of the man with Irina and I lost it. I started screaming at him to get off me and leave me alone. The poor fucker was terrified. I think he thought I was going to accuse him of rape or something. I didn?t want him or any other man to fuck me but I was suddenly terrified at the idea of being alone.?

?The next day Irina called me up at home. I didn?t know how she knew my number at the time. Now that kind of thing is less of a mystery. Anyone can find anyone if they set their mind to it. She said that I had to meet her, that she had to see me. I wanted her more than I?d wanted anything in my life so I went... To the same seat in Golden Gate Park. I waited for over an hour before she came. The sky was a bit overcast but there wasn?t any fog. We sat there and kissed for a long time. She told me that she had been watching me since the first time she saw me. She told me that she loved me more than she had ever loved anyone and that there was nothing she wanted more than to be with me. But her life was not her own. Just as she watched me the man she was with always watched her. She belonged to him and had no choice in her life. I she?d left him or betrayed him in any way her family would be made to suffer. She told me that when she made love to him she always imagined she was touching me. That spying on me had kept her alive.?

Yenetchka was silent for a long time. Orange light was starting to filter into her room and she got up and drew the curtains across the window. Then she came back to the bed and undressed.

Yenetchka?s skin was flawless and beautiful. She looked like an angel as the curtain filtered dawn light spread across her slender curves. Naked she sat next to me on the bed, placed a slim arm around my shoulder and kissed my neck. A shiver spread through me. She moved away from me and lay back on the bed.

?The man... The man who owned her... When he saw me in the restaurant he told Irina that he wanted me. Actually, what he told her was, that he was going to take me. She was supposed to tell me to come to his big house for a little party... What she actually told me was to leave San Francisco forever. That she?d sooner never see me again than think of him touching me. I told her she was being ridiculous. But in the end she convinced me that when a man like that wants something it makes no difference if he was in Russia or Cambodia or San Francisco. He could get it. I went back to live in Boston for a while. I told myself it wasn?t connected but it was. I had nightmares but I kept them at bay by not sleeping alone. I wasn?t particular about who was in my bed just as long as it was someone. And in my mind it was always her. It was always Irina who fucked me.?

?Of course he killed her. Or she killed herself... No... He probably killed her. She?d have endured it all for a lifetime just to keep her family safe... I didn?t know anything about her other than that her name was Irina. Sometimes I read a story in the paper about a body found here or there and I?d think maybe that?s her. How would I know ? Neither of them ever seemed to belong to this world...? Suddenly she smiled... ?You want to fuck me ??

I finished the whisky... To be honest I needed a moment.