Edge Running Ch. 03

So, that was the "around the moon three times" bit. It sounded even sexier than before. "You would want to be brought to completion as well, wouldn't you?" I asked gently, laying a hand on his basket and rubbing the side of the cock inside. Just the glimmer of a reaction.

"Alas, I think those days are over," he said, "but I do get enjoyment in bringing a beautiful young man off."

So, having some form of sex with him was still in the cards--enough, I hoped, to make the resulting tape explicit. If I couldn't get him up, I could writhe and moan under him for the cameras.

"I have these drugs," I said, stroking the side of his shaft within his trousers. There was a sense of a bit more hardening there, and where there was still a sign of life, there was hope.

"I have them here in the hotel. They take effect quickly. I would help you. I would like to help you to a completion for yourself. I'm interested in these Taoist techniques you speak of. Fang what?" I asked. "Is there a translation for that?"

"Yes, the English for that is the 'art of the bedchamber.'" He was breathing heavily and his hand was gripping my knee hard. He was hooked.

"Ah, and this you perform with young women?" We were beyond that, of course, but I couldn't resist teasing him.

"I much prefer young men. Young men like you. Your dance on stage set my juices boiling. Your body is so flexible--you are in ideal shape to perform some of the Fangzhoushu positions. You give me hope. Do you think perhaps...?" He'd stopped rolling the expensive chip in his fingers and held it out to me. "Perhaps before your boorish friend returns from the men's room."

"If we use the suite assigned to me," I said. "The management here insists on that for the senior dancers." One of the dangerous intersections in this maneuver was to get him into the suite with the cameras and recording devices in place. It was the same suite where Sam Winterberry had fucked me through that first night at the hotel casino, so he had me on tape too if a time came where they had to assert control over me. They would get me on tape injecting this man with sodium pentothal too, I was afraid. But there didn't seem to be anything I could do about that.

"No problem," he said. I took the chip from him. I wondered if Winterberry would let me keep it. His men--the men who had vacated these chairs--were watching from across the room, so I couldn't hide that I'd received the gold chip.

The man might be dumpy but he did indeed know his Taoist techniques--and when we moved into employing his cock, he used ones in which his paunch didn't intrude. But first I couldn't resist what he'd said he could do with his hands. He hadn't lied. I lay on the bed and he manipulated my body with his hands, pressing, pinching, rubbing, and gliding. He had worked me into a frenzy when he put his hand on my calves, moving them around to the interior and slowly gliding up my inner thighs, causing me to spread and raise my legs to a broadly open V all on my own strength as he brought his hands together on my cock and balls and then under them, with both hands going my center, fingers from both hands entering me. I rocked against the invading fingers. And eventually, as he had promised, I came three times in succession. Three times around the moon. He'd brought me off repeatedly with no cock work at all.

It then was my turn to bring him joy. He was tentative at first, apprehensive that he couldn't, in the end, have a completion of his own. But I took him in hand when he two was stripped down, suggesting that I massage him as we waited for the drugs to take effect. I made nothing of what poor condition his body and appearance were in, treating him like he was a god to me, that the goal of him being able to penetrate me was what I wanted above all else. I used my hands and lips to increasingly make him pant and then, with faith in the drugs, to engorge. He had an unusually long cock and I hadn't been lying about the enhancement drugs. I had them; he took them; and, after I slowly gave control over to him and managed to guide a hard shaft inside me to his wide-eyed panting in satisfaction, he remained rock hard through an hour of a Taoist sex techniques demonstration I myself knew, giving Winterberry and his team some scintillating video footage.

Once he had managed to go hard and realized that he would stay hard for a reasonable amount of time, Chao came alive sexually and demonstrated that he had once been a master of the art.

I wasn't a novice to more refined positions. Some of the Taoist positions he introduced me to I'd experienced before. But some of them were new to me--and arousing, even if he was a short, dumpy, overweight, older man. The position was particularly satisfying where he was kneeling on his calves behind me and holding my waist and kissing my neck and shoulder blades as my legs flared back around his hips, my torso cantilevered out from his chest, and he pulled me on and off a deep-piercing rock-hard erection to a creaming in my soft core. The erection pill wasn't the only one I had for him. I also dispensed the pills that let us bareback without the risk of STDs.

The last position was known to me, but was a favorite of mine when I was aroused by my partner. I couldn't deny that this Chinese man, with his Taoist techniques, aroused me. We sat in a lotus position, facing and entangled, my buttocks on his thighs, his cock deep inside me again, throbbing and flowing and flowing as I moaned and sighed. The man had the cum of a bull. I came more that the three times of the moon that night.

When Sam Winterberry and his two henchmen intervened and introduced the Chinese gun dealer to reality, the U.S. agent played the scene to perfection. He pulled me off Chao, slapped me around and tossed me into the corner of the room, while the three of them worked Chao over a bit as well, being careful not to leave marks. When it was time to inject him with the sodium pentothal, they were dramatic about making me do it after I acknowledged that I knew how to give injections--that some of the sex drugs I used with men required that I know.

When Winterberry left the suite having establish control over Chao, gotten the Chinese man to admit he was running guns into Thailand to a drug warlord in a remote area, heard that Chao had been looking for some sort of gift to give the warlord, and Chao being offered me to go along with him and to let the warlord lay me as a gift, Winterberry left me to commiserate with Chao and, for a price, to agree to go into Thailand with him.

Nobody told Chao I'd be going wired, not that I was told where that wire would be to the point that I doubted there really would be that means to track and protect me. Chao, now unwillingly recruited as a double agent for the United States, believed that I was going only as a one-time gift and that he would bear the burden of gathering intelligence on the warlord's operations for Winterberry.

* * * *

China has known to be isolationist back through its history, having little interest to expand or explore to a great distance from what it considered to be the superior, Central Kingdom, albeit it's a kingdom of great size. Outsiders were supposed to come to it and kowtow. China had no need to go to them or conquer everyone. To them, everyone realized China was superior and was to be deferred to and gifted with tribute.

For many centuries China was ruled by an imperial system. All of that was shattered in the 1930s, with the rise of Communism and its takeover of power in the late 1940s and 1950s. Communism brought a new and radically different mind-set to the Central Kingdom. It also brought thoughts of expansion--of spreading the ideology of Communism more than acquiring more territory. This peaked in the 1960s through the 1980s with the Red Guards and Maoism, which gave rise to Maoist insurgent movements in neighboring countries. In Vietnam and Cambodia, the local movements prevailed in their country but instituted their own form of Communism. Maoist insurgencies popped up elsewhere, though--in the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Laos, Thailand, and Burma. By the turn of the twenty-first century, though, these movements had largely been suppressed by U.S. backed internal government crackdowns.

They had not entirely disappeared everywhere, though. In Thailand, for instance, pockets of what had been the CPT--the Communist Party of Thailand--continued to control remote territory along the Thai-Cambodian border area north of Poipet, in Thailand's Surin Province. Here a warlord, Monkon Chaidee, under the banner of the CPT, ruled a sizable area of mountainous terrain, making occasional raids against Thai military installations and financing his operations with the cultivation of opium fields.

The mission of the Chinese arms dealer, Chao Tse-ho, that Sam Winterberry, with my forced help, had interdicted in Poipet was to deliver a shipment of assault rifles to Monkon Chaidee in Surin. Winterberry's mission was not to stop the shipment but to trace where, specifically, it was going. The Thai army would grab the arms and, hopefully, wipe out the insurgents at the same time. My part of Winterberry's mission was to go with the shipment, nominally as a deal-sweetening gift for a night with the known-gay Monkon Chaidee, and, with the tracing device claimed to be implanted on me to guide combined Thai and U.S. forces to the CPT warlord's lair.

I continued to be doubtful about the device, though. I wasn't knowingly wearing any such thing, and I assumed that, if Winterberry knew where the arms were starting out, there would be other sophisticated ways of tracing them to their destination. I thought the claimed bugging of me was just false assurance he was watching out for me.

I had come a long way from a gay man's free clinic in a Chicago ghetto, and I was running even more on the edge than I ever had before.

Chao Tse-ho now was working for the U.S. government as much as for whoever his bosses were in Shanghai. Winterberry made clear to him that he was an asset now and they would take care of him so that he could return to China, declaring his mission accomplished, and continue to be helpful to the United States. The assault rifles would be delivered and the payment received. Only after delivery had been made and we were back across the Cambodian border in Poipet would the boom be lowered on the Thai warlord in Surin. Even then, Monkon Chaidee might not have discovered that the assault rifles had been tampered with so that, after brief use, they heated up, broke down, and became useless.

Separately, Winterberry assured me that, though they'd protect Chao, they would raid the warlord's lair before he had gotten far with indulging in his deal-sweeting gift--me.

"Don't worry," he said. "We're trained in precision-time operations. We've done this many times before."

Nonetheless I worried. I'm sure Chao worried as well.

Monkon Chaidee didn't seem to be worried when, after ten hours of driving on pitted roads north from the Thai-Cambodian border at Poipet in four specially configured Land Rovers, with concealed storage bins in their undercarriages, we arrived in his mountain fastness. He met us with open arms and a grin, which broadened when Chao told him why I, a dancer and male prostitute at a big casino in Poipet, had been brought along. As a sign of good will, Chaidee could have me for an hour or so to do as he liked with. No one told me that Chaidee was a brutal man who would ride me to death, but I presumed that might be the case. I had already been running on the sharp edge of danger for too long.

I would have easily believed that Chaidee, appearing in camouflage fatigues and heavy combat boots, had earned his warlord position by being the biggest, most muscular, and most brutal insurgent in this remnant of the CPT. He was taller and stockier than anyone else in the camp. He was muscular, cruel and crude of demeaner, and so thuggish in features to be intriguing and arousing. He certainly was commanding. It was quite evident that his men universally respected and feared him and would die for him on command.

Like any good insurgent commander, Chaidee's first attention went to the assault rifles he was purchasing by the exchange for opium. I hadn't been told drugs were to be part of the exchange, or that I'd be participating in the possibility that these would enter the market.

After guiding Chao and me, first, to the latrine, and then to a nearby canvas-covered verandah, camouflaged, like the rest of the camp so as not to be discernible from the air, and making sure we had drinks, Chaidee supervised the unpacking of the Land Rover undercarriages. Piles of assault rifles were exchanged with burlap sacks filled with opium seed pods. The warlord looked through the rifles and selected four at random. Then he came back to the canvas-covered area and stood, hovering over where Chao and I were seated--in purposeful intimidation, I'm sure, while four of his men took the rifles to what obviously was a crude firing range nearby and tested them. The test was short, thank goodness, and all of the test rifles did their thing.

This was a moment of danger--one of several I could imagine. What would keep Chaidee from just shooting Chao, me, and everyone who had brought the arms here and keeping it all, both the arms and the drugs? Winterberry said it was because this wasn't a one-off transaction. The Thai insurgents regularly did business with the arms merchants in Shanghai. Chaidee wouldn't just cut that arrangement off. He assurances didn't assure me, though--and I'd never been part of the deals. The "eat you alive" looks Chaidee was giving me made me fear he totally used up those he fucked. I had nothing but Winterberry's assurances I'd be OK. Chao hadn't shown any concern for me.

Smiling then, Chaidee reached down, grabbed me under the arms, and pulled me up out of my chair. He virtually carried me to a nearby cave opening I hadn't noticed before, which proved to be his quarters, roughly stripped me down to my black-leather boots and wrist watch, tied me to his bed, on my back, with my arms spread and lashed to the posts at the head of the bed and my legs raised and spread and lashed to the tall posts at the foot of the bed. And he stripped down to his combat boots, showing an evil, upcurved erection, and mounted me. This was where the surprise came, though. As much as he was exhibiting macho to the world, he wanted to take cock in sex, not give it. When he mounted me, it was to sink on my cock and bounce up and down on it, riding it hard. He beat me while he rode me. I wasn't any less threatened by his sexual attentions than I would be if he were the top.

I was going to die here in the jungle of the Thai-Cambodian border region and no one I ever knew before would have any idea what had happened to me.

If Winterberry's plan had been to rescue me before the Thai warlord had brutally ridden and drained me, the plan wasn't working. Chaidee had put men in this position before, I could tell. He knew just how to hold me in my bound position as he, first, ate my ass out, and then mounted me, took me in in maximum penetration, and rode me mercilessly. He was on top of me, choking me with one hand and jacking himself off with the other. This probably was worse than if he were fucking me. Surely his men didn't know that he was a bottom. Surely, I wasn't going to be left alive to tell anyone that. His gyrations were so violent that I came quickly. But that wasn't enough. He continued riding me. He wanted to drain me and choke me out.

At first the resumption of gunfire didn't disturb Chaidee. He probably thought his men had just decided to do more testing of the newly acquired rifles. But then a soldier stuck his head into the cave opening and yelled something at the warlord. Whatever he was yelling, though, was cutoff when a look of astonishment came across the soldier's face and he fell on his face on the floor of the cave. Chaidee rolled off the bed and, naked other than his combat boots, grabbed up a rifle and rushed out of the cave.

Tied up as I was, I missed the brief battle outside, but it wasn't long before a familiar face entered and said, in clear Americanese, "Well, look what we have here." It wasn't who I was expecting.

"You're a little late, Mr. Allard," I said, in admonishment. I had expected Winterberry, not Roger Allard, the guy from the American Embassy in Bangkok. But I shouldn't have been surprised.

"I looks like I'm just in time," he said. "You know a firefight makes me horny." I could believe that as he already had his cock out and he was in full erection.

Before I was freed Allard climbed aboard and fucked me. And as he was ending, Sam Winterberry entered the cave, and he mounted me and fucked me too. At least they didn't double me. But some part of me wished they would.

"I know you're grateful that we saved you," he said as he was untying me--at last. It was OK with me; the danger had made me horny too. They both fucked well.

When I emerged from the cave, the Thai forces that Allard and Winterberry had arrived with were loading up the last of the insurgents they had been able to catch, alive or dead, mostly dead, into helicopters. There would be no trace the insurgents had ever been here when the Thai soldiers were finished. Monkon Chaidee hadn't made it more than five steps out of the cave, He lay dead in the dirt. Chao was sitting where I'd left him, in a chair under the canvas awning. He was dead too, a bullet hole between the eyes. I'd heard a shot that sounded different and closer than the test firing of the assault rifles while Chaidee had been trussing me up on his bed. Some part of me had to believe that the insurgents had dispatched Chao, as I had feared, and that I was destined for the same fate after Chaidee had had his way with me.

"Pity," Winterberry said, as he handed me into one of the Land Rovers we'd arrived in. "We really did intend to keep him alive and working for us." He sounded a bit regretful, but not quite so interested in keeping his assets alive that I would have found comfort in his words.

I was driven back to Poipet and left off at the entrance of the Grand Diamond City Hotel and Casino, to resume my career as dancer and whatever else I might get into just as if I'd never been part of a major combined U.S. and Thai intelligence operation. Just as if I hadn't been running right along the razor edge of danger.

Neither Roger Allard nor Sam Winterberry came back to Poipet with me.