Date: Sat, 11 Oct 1997 23:36:22 GMT From: "Terry B." Subject: Pong.txt - gay m/m bondage/asian story - 1/1 "PONG" - a short story by a Gay Asian and Male Bondage lover "Please be at the gate 30 minutes before departure". I could have sworn the hunky Thai ground host was showing more than a casual interest as he smiled and looked directly at the "Gay Guide to Bangkok" that was among the papers I was carrying. I was in such a rush to make my flight that I didn't spend the time to properly pack before I left the hotel. I couldn't help but admire his clean muscled looks in that tight form-fitting shirt and slacks. My two weeks vacation in Thailand left me wanting more of these georgious men. I was on an extended summer vacation just following college graduation - my gift from a wealthy and favorite uncle - the only family I really had having lost my parents when I was ten. As I approached Immigration I sighed as I saw the long lines - tourism was at it's peak in this fun filled country. After the passport formalities I headed toward the departure area past the final customs check when I heard "One moment please!" - looking back I saw a young Thai customs officer beckoning me to a counter. "Final check -please". Annoyed more than anything else at this stage I unzipped my hand carry bag carrying a change of clothes for the long flight back to Phoenix via San Francisco. The officer couldn't have been older than 22 - chisled face that looked very serious - even for someone so young. He didn't look the type to appreciate small-talk despite his looks. I noticed he packed a side-arm and a cuff-case on a black leather belt strapped to his narrow hips. Piece by piece he emptied the flight bag and to this day I can't forget my shock as he lifted a red plastic bag from the bottom - "What is this?" I hadn't a clue and told him so - "It isn't mine and I packed the bag myself - it must have gotten mixed up at the hotel". My heart started racing as he opened the bag and pulled out two sachels of a white powdered substance. "Come this way" he directed me toward a small room at the rear of the customs area at the same time signalling his colleague nearby to back him up. "Hands on the table flat - spread your legs wide" - as his friend proceeded to frisk me. No part of my anatomy was left to uncertainty and I jumped when he fondled both my basket and ass cheeks. From behind the young Thai grabbed my arms and cuffed my hands behind my back. I was in a state of shock - I had no idea where the bag had come from but my repeated explanation and pleading had no effect. They seemed to be convinced I was a drug runner or something. My brain whirled as I tried to remember what happened in the rush to leave the hotel. There was a man standing, now I remembered, very close as I was checking out and was fumbing on the floor next to my bag when he dropped some change on the floor. He must have put the drugs in my bag - I had been set-up! The cuffs were tight and chafed my wrists but nothing prepared me for what happened next! One of the officers opened a cabinet and took out a pair of heavy lockable legirons and knelt down and clamped each bare ankle with the shackles. I was in shock as all my mind could focus on was the clattering of the chains as he fumbled with the key mechanism to lock them in place. The cold hard steel bit into my ankles with the weight as I started to weave to the side as adreniline from both the fear and excitement pumped viciously trough my veins. Next they took the cuffs off only to replace them with a "belly chain" which had two heavy manacles at each side for my wrists - two separate chains were threaded between my crotch and locked at the back - I couldn't move my hands an inch from the side where they were locked to the thick chain belt. One final length of chain was pre-attached to the back of the belt ending in a handle device which was held by one of the officers - like a dog on a lead. Despite my confusion and fear I started to "harden" - the crotch chains accentuating the obvious excitement I was feeling and I looked down in embarassed confusion as I noticed my cock thicken noticably in the tight shorts I was wearing. For some time I had fantisized about wearing heavy irons and here I was locked in chains big enough to hold Hercules. That feeling soon wore off as I again realised the seriouness of the situation I was in. I was led out of the room surrounded by four guards - down a long corrider. I had to shuffle as the legirons had only about a foot of play and in the end they had to hold my arms to keep me from falling over. I didn't understand a word but they were engaged in a loud animated discussion in Thai. One guard looked up at me, holding my "Gay Guide" said - "You Lady-boy??" With that he smirked as he grabbed his crotch in his tight brown police regulation trousers - no doubt was left as to the fact that he was equipped! There was also no doubt as to what he had in mind for me as he kept fondling my buns as he led me away. Eventually, after slowly negotiating a narrow stairway down to the ground level, I was led out to a parking area where a black window-less van was waiting with the engine running. One of the officers was busy talking in a two-way radio barking out some sort of instruction. The door to the van opened in the rear allowing a glimpse of the dark interior. There were two low metal benches extending along each side of the interior of the van - it was then that I noticed heavy metal iron collars hanging directly above the rear of each position along the benches. I was hustled into the van and placed at the furthest seat. My head was roughly forced back to allow the guard to clamp the collar around my neck - I jumped when I heard the lock "click" into place with a heavy metallic sound of finality. My legs were then spread as far as the irons would allow and rings welded to each legiron cuff were padlocked to heavy stud rings jutting out from the floor at each side. Then a wide heavy canvas belt on a retractor attached to the bench was cinched and tightened around my waist forcing my body upright against the back of the bench. These, combined with the belly chain and wrist manacles still in place, completely immobilized me for the journey. For the moment I had no idea where I was to be taken. The trip lasted what seemed to be hours - each bump and bend were absolute misery as I felt the heavy collar wrenching my neck with every movement. Eventually, thank God, the ordeal ended and the van door was opened after we had been stopped for some minutes. I had expected uniformed guards to appear but was amazed to find three young Thai hunks (no better word to describe them!) wearing only black lycra bike shorts and nothing else! Not totally true as each was also belted into leather harnesses which covered their upper torsos - exquisitly showing off their sculpted muscled pectorals. Clipped to the sides of their harness belts were heavy handcuffs that jangled as they moved quickly into the van to release me. As they worked to disengage my shackles and chains I again hardened looking at the equipment they packed in their lyrca covered baskets - which they didn't hesitate to brush against me at every opportunity. My cock lengthened further in it's chain bordered prison just inhaling the clean scrubbed smell of these Thai muscle boys. Minutes later - hands now only cuffed behind my back - I found myself infront of a tall young Thai man clad in jeans and a white muscle shirt. "Welcome to the drug rehab camp" he spoke in flawless English. You will be our guest here for the next twelve months. Here you will be "detoxified" from your drug ridden experience and learn that the body can be developed into a pure state of perfection. You will be personally trained and worked until every muscle screams out for rest until your body is honed to a work of art. During this time there will be no hope of escape as you will soon discover. Let me assure you however that at the end of the twelve months you will leave here a free man - if not the same man. Should you not wish to cooperate you have one choice and that is to be returned to the police for arraignment for your crime - which in most cases in my country leads to eventual death by hanging. You will find the guards and the staff here to your liking I am sure - they will be teaching you not only the physical but also unlocking your innermost sensual desires. It is our belief that the physical well being and the sensual well being go hand-in-hand. I was already, i knew, in pretty damn good physical condition - smooth tanned flawless skin covering taut muscles built up from extensive swimming, jogging and biking. I was proud of my body and knew my best attributes - my smooth muscled chest and my tight small firm buttocks. I always looked best wearing a tight size 30" narrow sided Speedo and had just spent the better part of the past two weeks at the beach wearing little else. I knew I had no choice and secretly slowly became excited at the prospect of spending a year under the tutalage of these hot Thai hunks. Little did I know then that one of the expected duties would be to serve as the "lady boy" to these Thai "top" boy-men. My days were spent in a rigorous schedule starting at 6AM - a never ending routine of exercise, calesthenics, swimming, running, weights - broken by intermittant periods of rest, meals and massages. The massages were scheduled in mid-afternoon and a final before a lock-down marathon massage with heated oils. They were experts at this! I was in a constant state of steel hard erection as the warm oils were sensiouly rubbed into my sore muscles by skilled hands. More oil poured over my ass checks and rubbed between my thighs and legs - grazing my already massive erection. Oh for release! Please let me cum! Each session seemed to be a different young masseur - wearing only a t-back lycra thong - the basket of which was used often as an instrument of the massage itself! Inevitably - mid massage - the thong was removed and as I lay on my stomach I could feel the heated point of his manhood against my oiled buttocks. Slowly as always he eventully entered me to finish each session with a massive mutual climax as he reach under me to bring me off as well in a slippery hand embrace. As I heaved in afterglow I could feel the cold steel irons being placed on my ankles that were attached to heavy iron pins in the concrete floor at the foot of my bed - all to be repeated day after day. As the masseur left he reached down and softly kissed my face whispering "I leave my juice in you 'lady-boy' - good medicine to make you a man". No question these Thai guys had no doubt about their masculinity! The camp I later learned was a converted Thai Army emlisted mens club that had been abandoned for a newer location. It was situated close to the coast about three hours south of Bangkok. The facilities were excellent - Olympic size pool, track, gymnasium with complete work-out equipment on what appeared to be a large tract of land - very remote from any nearby towns. I was one out of at least two dozen "internees" - most of whom were other foreigners. Fraternization was most definitely discouraged - each inmate was placed in separate cells in newer buildings built for this purpose. All of the inmates were young men - aged 18 to 28. Mornings came too soon with blaring martial music over loadspeakers at 6AM sharp. Once unshackled each barracks (there were three) met outside for warm up exercises before a Thai breakfast of rice and varieties of meat and vegtables - we didn't suffer for lack of good food. Our "uniform" was simple - tight sunset red nylon speedos - we lived in them. Next came the showers - cleanliness was a passion with the guards and this was often personally supervised by the guards assigned to the shower building. The "guard to inmate" ratio was something I never understood - there were at least three for each inmate and different faces kept appearing over time. The guards were young and perfect specimens of Thai male beauty - often each with a specialty whether athletics, grooming, or massage - their muscled bodies glowing with health and masculinity. Their uniform was simple black lycra bike shorts- each wearing a leather top harness - there were no exceptions. The camp perimeter was surrounded by two sets of high chain-link fences - both with razor sharp barb-wire on the top and electrified as an extra security measure to prevent escapes and unwanted intruders. In addition each inmate was permanently fitted with an electronic "cock-ring" - a narrow rounded tight metal ring with an electronic pod that would trigger both an alarm and a heavy electric shock - if the "no-man" zone was entered. The "pod" was a small rounded metal extension at the base of the ring just behind the balls containing a tiny high amperage battery and the transmitting and electrical discharge chip. The device was impossible to remove - God knows I tried often for hours as I lay in my bed. It was simply too tightly fitted around the base of my cock. This was done the night of my arrival by use of a special pliers tool that permanently extruded the metal ring into a solid band. The finest lubrication didn't help in the least bit. In any event I never seriously considered escape as the consequences would have meant prison and death row for sure. The guards displayed an unusual high degree of cameraderie between themselves - jokingly competing with each other for thier favorite "lady-boy". This often also led to some amount of "flirting" as they attempted to out do each other for favored status among the inmates - not that the inmates had a choice in the matter in any event. There were of course some inmates favored over others and I somehow seemed to draw a higher degree of attention. They seemed to like blond blue-eyed boy-bunned types like me. Errant behavior or any sort of "non compliance" was dealt with swiftly - the punishment was usually 24 hours in a cold concrete room in "close chains". I suffered this only three times where both wrists were locked in thick heavy manacles with one link in between and similar legirons were clamped on my ankles -again with only one chain link in between. Movement was impossible and made worse by a thick steel collar inturn attached to the manacles and legirons by a three to four foot lenghth of heavy steel chain. This forced the body into a "fetal" position which after only minutes caused a high degree of discomfort. I learned that the worse the infraction the less "play" was given in the length of the chain attaching the collar, hand-manacles and legirons. This made a real difference in the level of pain and discomfort over the 24 hour period. Once released it often took days to fully recover from the discomfort and cramping pain. To add to the punishment a thick leather hood was tightened around my head with only an opening at the nose to breathe. The mouth opening was filled with a soft thick rubber dildo which was forced down my throat. Lesser misdemeanors resulted in more humane punishment. One such was a four inch wide "punishment" collar - solid steel -that often was locked on some poor offender for a day. Talk about neck cramps! The torture device forced the wearer to keep his head up and eyes straight ahead - it was impossible to look down. Another was being locked in a waist harness with crotch chains fitted with a pliable black rubber dildo. I was lucky to avoid this but it was fairly commonly used. A few of the dildo sets used had built in radio controlled vibrators to add to the guards' fun. The chain links were cinched up so tight that it was difficult to sit and the natural body's reaction to expel the dildo was useless against the unyielding chains. I was told that one eventually got used to the feeling and in the "end" it wasn't all that uncomfortable. Some other minor infractions resulted, for example, in some of us having to swim laps wearing stainless-steel legirons - after a few laps the strain on the arm muscles to stay afloat got worse and worse. Some others were made to spend nights not only in legirons but also wrist manacles that were fixed to rings in the concrete wall above the head of the beds. Sundays were a day of rest - most inmates took the opportunity to sleep as group fraternization was prohibited. This became the time when the guards, as the mood struck them, went to their favorite lady-boy's cell for quick relief - whether a blow-job or fuck. They were rarely turned away as no one wanted to gain the reputation as being uncooperative - not that they were going anywhere as the legirons were regulation when in the cells. Besides I was convinced their charms over time worked on even the "straightest" of the inmates. Their secret to this I am sure was in thier skills at massage which was a compulsory twice-daily event. The absolute sensuality of their techniques would have driven even Rambo into the arms of his captors. Over a very short matter of a few months I noticed how my body hardened and developed toned layers of muscles - my abdomen was ridged with rows of prominent muscles as never before. I became enamoured with my looks - often taking second and third looks in the mirrors in the shower room. My tan line from the tight narrow speedo started to turn me on! My narrow waist flared down to two tight perfectly shaped boy buns leading down to long tapered muscled legs. The cock ring also became a turn on for me as it inevitably kept me in a constant state of semi-hardness - my red-speedo'd basket looked ominous against my narrow hips - increasing my level of excitement. I had never experienced such a high degree of consant sexual excitement and I started fantasizing about my "favored" guards. One of these boys - Khun Pong - was especially attractive to me. He had a smile that would have stopped Godzilla in his tracks. Those sparking pearly white perfect teeth framed by a boyishly handsome tanned face - he had the most electric knock 'em dead good looks and friendly personality. When I could disengage my stare to gaze down at his body I always gasped at his powerful narrow hips and how delectible his black lycra packaged basket looked. It was as if he was wearing a bright neon sign that said "Kneel down and lick me!". Oh how I dreamed of bedding that boy! I couldn't get the image of him out of my mind. We of course had no say in the rotation of the guards to massage duty and to this day I am confused how the system worked. Nevertheless I can never forget the evening when he appeared in my cell for massage duty - I knew my prayers had been answered. He spent the night with me (this was permitted although we still had to be shackled for the night) and that night I knew I was in love. He was an endless passionate lover who took me to sexual heights I had never before experienced. Eventully in the wee hours of the morning we finally slept wrapped tightly in a muscled embrace. Pong and I are together now - two years since my release. Pong still calls me his "Lady-boy" and doesn't hesitate to use his personal supply of regulation leg-irons and manacles on me when the mood strikes him.