Date: Sun, 20 Sep 2015 08:28:58 +0200
From: Kasper Paradox <paradox_88@outlook.com>
Subject: Bangkok Breakdown chapter 1

//Hi guys, thanks for reading. It's my first go at a story with rich
background and characters, so I appreciate any feedback you can offer. I
hope I can set the right pace and mix the details about Tom's background
and state of mind with the actions he has to endure. Get in touch at
paradox_88@outlook.com

Chapter:            1

It's easy to have fun as a 19-year-old French backpacker in Bangkok, and
Tom certainly was trying to let it live up to the expectation. He enjoyed
all the city offered him thus far: Tasty street food, the splendour of the
grand palace, the social contrast that became apparent on a long tail
cruise that took him through small canals and the extreme hospitality of
the Thai people. After a long day of cultural activities, it was now time
to explore the nightlife.

After plenty of meaningless encounters on the earlier legs of his trip
through South East Asia , Tom had decided not to pursue sex anymore.
Picking a major for the new school year was the main objective now. After
dropping out of his French literature study at the Paris university of
Sorbonne, this trip was supposed to be all about his future.

But that didn't mean he couldn't go out and get a drink. His hostel was
right at the centre of Bangkok's backpacker area, but Tom preferred to
mingle in a more local scene. He got into a taxi and asked to be taken to
Ratchada Rot Fai 2, a fairly new night market the guy at the check in
counter of the hostel promised him was still mostly undiscovered by
tourists.

"Why are you going to Ratchada", the taxi driver asked. His English sounded
good, especially for a Thai taxi driver. Every time Tom tried to take a
taxi, the hardest thing was trying to explain to the driver where he needed
to go. Even a famous hotspot like the grand palace didn't seem to ring a
bell for some of them. That his telephone was stolen in Cambodia made
things worse, because now he couldn't use a local sim card to look up
translations or help with directions. Also, Tom's French accent didn't
help, but the low level of English of the Thai people surprised him. With
so many tourists in Bangkok, you'd expect at least the taxi drivers to
communicate properly.

Tom told the driver he was looking for a more authentic experience, after
spending most of his time with backpackers for the last two months.

"You look like a smart guy, why do you go to a night market ?  They're the
same everywhere. If you want to meet interesting Thai people, you should go
to Silom. That's where the students and the business men are."

Tom looked at the driver.  He was a typical small Thai man, with dark,
neatly combed hair and glasses that were so transparent that they were
barely noticeable. This was not a playboy trying to get a kickback for
bringing well spending customers to one of the many shady bars that offered
ping pong shows and girls to take back to your hotel room. Also, Tom knew
that Silom was a big, well-known street, in the middle of the city. It
didn't sound like a scam.

Tom thought it all over, realising the importance of the responsibility his
parents entrusted on him. Not a lot of parents would allow their
19-year-old son to backpack through South East Asia for three months,
without a predefined itinerary. They even financed the trip. And when his
phone got stolen, all they said was `don't worry about it and stay
safe'. But Tom also knew he had to take some risks once in a while if he
truly was to have a unique experience, so he told the driver to take him to
Silom.

After a twenty-minute drive, the taxi stopped on the side of a very busy
street. There were plenty of people, so there was nothing to worry
about. No dark back ally and no intimidating bouncers in front of the bars.


The taxi driver pointed to a door that was barely noticeable between the
big office buildings.  "Tell them that Prakuchit drove you here. It will
not get you a discount - it's not that kind of bar - but maybe it will help
you start a conversation." The last words of the driver made Tom feel safe
and a little bit guilty that he had doubted his intentions.

The interior of the bar had a sophisticated look, with leather chairs, low
light, a bookshelf and a liquor collection behind the bar tender that
suggested they might only serve traditional cocktails and whisky. The bar
didn't look like the kind of place that should be on the to do list of
someone on a backpacking budget, but Tom decided that he'd at least have
one drink before heading out again. There was a group of well-dressed Thai
people, probably students, in their early twenties. Seeing them made Tom
instantly aware of his own outfit. He was dressed for the market, wearing a
loose v-neck and shorts. Fortunately he was wearing shoes instead of the
usual flip-flops, but he wasn't sure it'd be enough to let him stay.

"You can't wear that in here," said the bartender who had walked up to him
and was moving his eyes all over Tom's body .

"I'm sorry, I was planning to go somewhere else but my taxi driver...
Prakuchit, he told me this would be a nice place for me to meet educated
Thai people ," Tom replied.

I n his apology, Tom's presence remained firm. Even when being asked to
leave, Tom's indifferent air made it clear that he would not feel rejected
by such a decision. The bartender waited for a more eager plea, but swiftly
realised he wasn't going to hear it from this tall boy with the French
accent. Tom saw a curious look in the bartender's eyes, that was triggered
when he had mentioned the name of the taxi driver, but seemed to intensify
by the second.

"Ok, I'll fix you a drink, come sit at the bar." The bartender tried to act
as if he had only just decided to ignore the fact that Tom wasn't wearing a
smart outfit. They both knew that wasn't true.

The bartender was an Asian man, in his thirties, and was even more fluent
in English than the taxi driver. There was barely an accent noticeable.
After he served a Bacardi and Coke, he headed to one of the guys that was
in the group of Thai students. The guy followed the bartender back to the
bar and grabbed the stool next to Tom.

"Hello, I'm Roo", said the boy.

He turned out to be the son of the owner of the bar and said he always
liked talking to young tourists who were looking for something else then
the many roads that all the tourists before had already paved. The boy
confirmed that he and his friends were indeed students, but that was about
all Tom got out of the boy. The only things Roo wanted to talk about were
the classy customers that the bar normally entertains and the stellar
reputation his father supposedly has in the gentleman's scene of Bangkok.
Tom didn't really listen. He was start ing to feel tired and losing his
concentration. When his drink was finished and he asked for the bill, the
boy offered him another drink, "from the house and because you are my
guest."

Tom didn't see the harm in one more drink. He would just drink it fast and
head back to the hostel. He had a long day of exploring the city behind
him, so the sudden tiredness didn't alarm him. It was only until halfway
through the second drink when he needed to balance his arm on the bar to
prevent falling from his stool. He started to fade in and out of the
conversation, which was only the Thai boy talking. He seemed to have
discovered Tom's purpose in Bangkok and changed the subject from his father
to life goals, or something like that. Tom couldn't keep up anymore.

"I understand you. You want to live, to do something unique."

"You want to find out who you really are."

Tom wanted to leave, but he couldn't move.

"Bangkok has made the dreams of many men come true."

"In order to make dreams of the deserving come true, there have to be
servants. You are going to be one of those servants.  "


The boy kept talking, while Tom was rapidly blinking his eyes. His skin was
feeling extremely sensitive all of a sudden, like a dozen fans all started
blowing at his body at once. He tried to regain his focus, was this boy
really saying what Tom was hearing? Before he could answer the question to
himself, everything went black.


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


Tom woke up lying on the floor of a room that was completely dark. It felt
surreal, as if he was still to wake up from a bad dream. It took him a
while to realise some kind of drug was fading from his body, but once he
did it became terrifyingly clear to him that this wasn't a bad dream at
all. The room in which Tom found himself felt like a sauna, with clammy
heat touching his body. His naked body, as Tom now realised, with nothing
on it but the cold, heavy feel of a steel chain around his ankle. Tom's
predicament caused a sudden wave of panic and he started to scream.

He screamed for minutes and minutes, maybe even longer than an hour, there
was no way to tell, before his voice finally gave in. He couldn't hold off
the tears that had been urging to escape from his eyes any longer, tears
that most others would've succumbed to much sooner. But even while crying,
Tom maintained his strength of character. He made no sound and he wasn't
broken; this was nothing more than a physical reaction to the situation he
found himself in.

Tom closed his eyes, as if it could get him out of the room. He tried to
retrace his steps; the hostel, the taxi, the bar. How could he have been so
stupid to take the advice of the taxi driver. Such a foolish mistake that
he had been warned about so often. Why did he accept the second drink at
the bar when he was already feeling tired?  Why didn't he just go to the
night market like he had planned to? Why didn't he get a new telephone
after the first one was stolen while he was sleeping in a Cambodian hostel?

The moment he heard a switch, he was blinded. An unforgiving beam of neon
light escaped from the ceiling and filled the room, which he started to see
was very small. The chain around his ankle was connected to a mount right
at the center of the floor. When his eyes were fully accustomed to the
intense light, there were few details yet to discover: The room was almost
completely empty, apart from a thin blanket that was rolled up against one
of the walls.

But the blanket wasn't the center of Tom's focus. What caught his attention
was a cctv camera in one of the upper corners, a dark TV monitor mounted in
the wall and the door, especially the door.

Even though the steel door didn't have a handle, it was easy to identify
between the concrete of the enclosing wall. The door was built firmly
within the concrete, Tom kept scanning for holes or distortions in the
steel, but he couldn't discover even the tiniest opening. That was probably
also the reason why he couldn't hear anything but his own accelerated
breathing.

Using all the power his body had recovered since waking up from his
drug-induced sleep, Tom tried to stand. His legs were shaky, but he
managed. The room was small, but just big enough to prevent him from
touching the walls while standing . The heavy chain around his ankle was
just three links long so in order to touch the wall, he had to lie down and
stretch his hands. Tom noticed a couple of rings mounted into the wall, but
before he could think about the purpose of their presence, the TV required
his immediate attention: an image had appeared.

The modern looking, flat screen TV was mounted in the wall just below the
camera that was probably filming Tom this very instant. Both the camera and
the monitor were out of his reach. The cables that provided a current and
transmitted the images were barely visible and the way they disappeared
into the wall was the work of professionals. A shiver went down Tom's
sweaty spine while he concluded that he wasn't in a police cell or in the
captivity of some amateurs that might ask his parents for a ransom. Someone
a lot less bright than Tom would've figured out that this kind of setup
could only mean he was in serious trouble.

The thought was confirmed by the image on the screen. It was a picture of
Roo, the boy he had met at the bar, the son of the owner. Only in the
picture he wasn't wearing his three-piece suit, but an army-like outfit.
The violent look in his eyes matched the automatic machine gun he was
holding in his hands. In any other situation, Tom would've laughed about
such a show-off picture. Now, he realised being shown the image was his
captors' way of letting him know there was no escape possible.

The image faded to black before it began showing CCTV footage that had been
shot in the bar where Tom was abducted. He spotted himself, talking to his
fictive guard. The footage clearly showed that there was no one else in the
bar apart from the bartender and the friends of the boy that Tom had been
talking to. While Tom was talking to Roo and losing consciousness, the
bartender closed the front door of the bar. After the drug had knocked Tom
out, everyone that was inside helped drag his tall body through the door at
the back of the bar. That's where the image faded to black again.

The new information that the footage had shown, felt like a punch in the
stomach. So many thoughts were fighting to be on top of mind, and most of
them were reassurances Tom was telling himself to remain calm.

They will come looking for me. They will find me. Tom wanted to think it,
but a growing feeling of hopelessness dominated his mind.

The TV started airing again and this time the screen filled with the
pinkish glow of naked bodies. From the first fraction Tom knew it was
porn. The clip showed two boys, about Tom's age. One was on his knees,
sucking the other. The clip had audio and strangely enough it was a relief
to Tom to hear the moaning of the boys on the screen. Finally something
other than the panic-filled sound of his own breathing.

The clip didn't last long. Within a couple of minutes the face of the
kneeling boy was dripping cum and his tongue was eagerly trying to get as
much of it in his mouth. The next clip started: it showed a small, young
boy bent over a table while an older man fucked him until he came in the
boys ass. Several other men, probably in their fifties or sixties, were
waiting for their turn to fuck the boy next. The clip took forever, not
until all of the 10+ men had spilled their seed in the raw ass of the
numb-fucked boy, the clip changed. A naked Asian guy appeared, only his
back was visible, he was standing with his hands pushed to the wall. The
angry voice of an invisible man shouted something in the background and
after a couple of seconds, the punishing sound of a cane hitting the bare
flesh of its victim cut through the prison room in which Tom was being
held.

As the caning in the clip continued, Tom had goose bumps all over his
body. The acts he was watching shocked him, but most of all it was that the
Asian boy that had to endure it, didn't make a single sound. As if all
sense of pain had been squeezed out of his body. That wasn't possible, Tom
thought.

Although the images were horrible to Tom, he couldn't look away, it was the
only input he got out of the room, so he had to focus on it.

Dozens of porn clips succeeded each other. All were gay; some of relatively
normal sex where boy-next-door types sucked or fucked each other, but most
had a dark twist and involved some kind of fetish.

Between some of the clips, the monitor aired the footage that the camera
above it was filming. Tom saw himself, plain naked and completely lost.  It
was only when he looked at his own image on the monitor when h e noticed
his penis was hard.  It didn't shock him, he was sure the erection was
based on fear, like the early boners he would get from watching a scary
movie when he was very young.

The porn clips varied in length. Some only showed a brief action, like the
licking of a foot, while other clips didn't seem to end. They covered so
many different sexual areas that it was like Tom was receiving a crash
course in gay sex. He saw intimate kisses, hair being shaven, dildos and
fists penetrating, rimming, spanking, two boys that took turns pissing in
each other's mouths and many other things Tom had never before seen or even
thought about. Oddly enough, the clip Tom found the most ominous was not so
sexual at all: It showed a group of six men that were drinking cocktails,
quietly speaking to each other and looking at a group of naked young boys
on a stage. Almost like they were inspecting them. The boys didn't do
anything but stand there. The men were acting casual, like they were
attending just another cocktail party.

The footage of this clip was grainy, but the thought occurred that it
might have been filmed in the bar where Tom was abducted.

After the sequence of clips had looped four times, the screen faded to
black and the neon light that had filled the room disappeared with the same
violent motion it had come with. Tom sat on the floor with his hands in his
beautiful blonde hair, that normally had such a radiant glow when it was
being touched by daylight. Three questions kept running through his mind:
Where the hell was he, how could he get away and, if he couldn't, what were
they planning to do to him ?  In the darkness and silence that surrounded
him, there was no peace for him to find.


To be continued...

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