Disclaimer: this is a story of people seeking pleasure in unnatural and filthy acts. It is meant to be uncomfortable as it is raunchy, as such quests most often are. It mentions unwashed bodies, the many substances coming out of them, desires to pain and shame, decayed states, etc. Perhaps most upsetting, it touches on poverty.

It is a work of fiction inspired by conversations I had with real people about their actual experiences and wishes. I have selected as the basis of my story a less offensive set of them. Fiction be tamer than reality.

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Kindly edited by Creeps and neuroparenthetical.

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Restless in Manila

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Chapter 1

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Tom is twenty-six and serving his second term with the Marines. He deployed to Afghanistan and saw more action than he was meant to. After, he felt like he had enough of the Corps. But the benefits associated with the Veteran status from serving a second term were too good to pass. And he had nothing to return to. So he re-upped.

He is of average height for the Corps (meaning above average in the general population), and as well built, if slender, as one would expect of a Marine, of fair complexion and general good looks.

But where his appearance helps him, his social skills fail him. Owing to his upbringing in a dysfunctional family and a feral neighborhood, he feels uncomfortable among people. He finds the company of his peers boring, annoying, aggravating and altogether unworthy of his time. He dislikes boys’ company as he dislikes girls’ company, and can hardly relate to anybody’s interests. Whether sports or motors, politics or guns, he cannot care less about it.

To others, he is a quiet, introverted guy that rarely finds himself in trouble. People find his company not particularly desirable when they first meet him. Those that stay long enough slowly warm up to find him dependable and agreeable, if only mildly.

Up to now, his Sex life has been much like his social networking: underwhelming at the very best. He had Sex with girls and women, mostly prostitutes, though he has had at least a couple of awkward relationships with young women his age. Both happened when he was in his early twenties, before joining up. His teens and high-school had been his worst years, lonesome and miserable.

It should come as no surprise that Tom has developed all sorts of sexual interests. At some point his attention got caught by domination and many things related. He is not sure if that is because he loathes himself or the world.

Back from his first term and about to start the second, he decided he’d like to go abroad again. Because several confusing episodes in Afghanistan when he pulled the trigger and once fired an RPG with the results including dead Mujahedins, some not dead American troops and distinctions he felt undeserved, the brass were only too happy to accommodate and find him a cozy and relatively safe deployment in southeast Asia, on the security detail for the embassy in Manila.

Since then and between his Marine duties and the strangeness of the place, his sexual frustration has only grown. Sure, there are the whores, and he had paid them visits like all of his buddies, but he’d hardly enjoyed it and felt less inclined to continue with each encounter.

He has discovered that there’s an entire world of bodies and interests to explore in the country, and that locals are quite keen on Westerners. He took to explore its digital presence on the many social and dating sites.

Nothing of significance has presented so far, but Tom still likes the prospects. Most girls and women, either online or among those he had met and dated, are either prostitutes or gold diggers or dreaming for a knight in shiny white armor to come and save them and take them to a better place. Most are out of his geographic reach, available time or money.

Then there are the boys. And the ladyboys. Still many prostitutes, but the odds of a ‘meet and fuck’ are better.

It should go without saying, Tom is not particularly keen on locals. To their credit, they speak English well, but that is about their only virtue. Due to cultural differences and his own doubtfully social nature, Tom is finding them even less engaging than the people back home.

Oh, and their sometime special sexual interests. That is the second positive.

Some are into domination and related kinks. Up until now, very little had come out of it, though. Girls are in for the money, boys… also for the money, though less uniformly. And Tom is still straight. Being straight does not stop anybody from sucking dick or getting butt Sex, but puts some limits to how far the desire of meeting males goes.

There remains the more modestly represented category of neither males or females. Transsexuals or ladyboys or shemales or whatever you or they may have. There are many of them in the islands, but for all the aforementioned reasons (distance, budget, time, sexual inclinations, etc), very few got Tom’s attention and he theirs.

There must have been more than a dozen with whom he had at one time corresponded online. These correspondences usually lasted very shortly, much to Tom’s frustration. They have a habit of losing interest very fast. Or making unreasonable demands. Most often, of getting offended quickly. Maybe it is something Tom is doing wrong, but he believes the fault is shared.

His latest discovery is a ladyboy in Angeles. That should be no more than a couple of hours out of Manila, but with the dismal state of the nation’s infrastructure, it may well be four or five. Angeles is the national sin capital, built where the largest overseas American military base once stood. The Americans left, the whores lingered.

****

She, or he, is thirty-four, tall for a Filipino, but not taller than Tom, slim, dark-skinned and has rather ill-favoured looks. No visible facial hair in the pictures online, but that’s hardly a guarantee of actual appearance. She has a long figure that is hardly feminine and only remotely pleasant. Not strongly masculine either. There are plenty of very feminine and very pretty ladyboys in the country, but she is not one of them. Then again, the ones that purport to share Tom’s interest never are, and it’s not physical beauty that Tom seeks out. She asks to be referred as Bianca.

Bianca works in hospitality, and Tom is sure that there are few limits to her amenability. He decides he’s not going to ask her how much she whores on the side.

In her dating site profile, Bianca says she’s a TOP. After saying she’s looking for a sweet, caring, loving and faithful man. There was nothing else in her terse introduction. Tom fixated on the TOP in all caps, her MasterBianca user name and her worn looks. He had sent her his greetings and a conversation had started. It wasn’t long before Tom told her he was looking for a top dominant ladyboy. Was she that, he asked her? Yes, she could be, she replied.

Bianca admits readily to little prior experiences with some of the things Tom inquires about. She has fucked men, has been asked and has obliged several times with mild abuse and degradation, up to and including slapping, spitting, insulting and urinating on face. And she’d like to do more.

When prompted, she said she’s single and always has been. She’s never had a boyfriend, or a girlfriend. She does not like women in a sexual way. And nor do judgmental, family oriented and religious Filipinas like her sexually, adds Tom.

As Tom cannot leave his post at a moment’s notice and travel in the countryside, and at this point he does not care to, their conversation continues online for three weeks up to the day they agree to meet in Angeles. They keep talking and cover a good many things. Bianca would rather talk things not sexual, or not all the time, Tom would rather not go outside Sex. Still, he has to entertain her to some degree. When they do venture beyond sexual interests, the conversation often gets stale, sometimes downright awry.

Like the one time Bianca untactfully brings up the transsexual killed recently by a US serviceman in Angeles. Bianca accuses discrimination against her gender from all corners, and Tom knows she’s right. Overtly, he nods and decries the abominable crime. But inwardly, he’s put off by her feelings of persecution and inadequacy. He means nothing more beyond dirty, excited talk.

For that and others like that and for the many times he had talked with others persons on dating sties and nothing came of it, Tom is holding his expectations low. He half expects for Bianca to get terribly offended and disappear at any time, or to be asked to send money. Yes, money is an issue, as soldiers are not exactly paid grandly and the cyber space in the country is full of scammers.

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Tom wants to know what Bianca cares about sexually, what she’ll do to him, how she’ll use him, etc. In short, Tom is looking for cheap, easy sexual entertainment and to expand on his fantasies while chatting with another person.

“How big are you?” he asks.

“Five foot ten”, she says.

“No, I mean, your tool.”

“Five inches, baby.”

“Nice.”

“And you like fucking Ass?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can I see your cock?”

Bianca obliges with a couple of a pics of the typical Filipino dick. Straight in shape, ungainly, terribly circumcised with a half rim of skin under the head. Ugly, Tom sees, but typical for the locale. Actually, it’s worse than average, he reassesses, decidedly worse.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a bigger dick for you. I know you want big dick.”

“You got a beautiful dick, Bianca. And I do like smaller ones. I would Love to suck your dick!”

“I Love my cock sucked.” that’s what Bianca keeps saying. Tom would Love to hear more of that and more beyond that.

“I’ll suck your cock for as much as you want. I Love sucking cock. Sucking balls and Ass, too.”

“Wait for my command what you will suck.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was meaning you wait for my command what will you suck if my cock my balls or my hole.”

“Understood.”

“And baby, my cock loves to be sucked long time. Can you suck him one hour?”

“I don’t have much experience with sucking cock for that long. Would Love to, but I need breaks.”

“Okay, you can rest licking my hole. Make her relax.”

“Love it! I bet it tastes great, too.”

Tom is truthful: he loves the taste of clean assholes and balls.

But Bianca has different ideas.

“I want you to clean my dirty, smelly cock and asshole. I want you to smell and eat my dirty underwear.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll do that.” says Tom not really looking forward to it.

“Good baby. I will not wash before we meet. My cock will smell strong.”

Tom very much hopes not, but does not say it.

“You will lick it clean.” she informs him.

Tom wants to hear more like such, more on the kinky wild side, but Bianca is the typical ladyboy here. Rather reluctant, somewhat frustrating in giving him what he wants.

“So you’re looking for a slave?”

“I am, yes.”

“Why is that?”

“I want somebody to do what I say. Obey my orders.”

“Are you bossy?”

“I can be.”

“What will you do to your slave?”

“Punish him.” Bianca says. “Give him orders.”

There’s not much meat there. Tom suspects Bianca had been down this road more than once or twice, probably a lot of customers interested in the same treatment. He doesn’t know whether Bianca is truly interested in any of that, or whether she’s just agreeable. He suspects it is the latter, and wonders whether he’s not abusing her.

“What orders?”

“Kiss my feet. Kneel before me.”

This all seems a bit mechanical to Tom, like maybe Bianca’s heart isn’t in it, like she’s rehashing what she may have heard from former customers.

Still, there are other times when he feels excited and hopeful, when she feels genuine.

“I liked to be begged.” she says. “I like men begging me, crawling in front of me.”

In truth, his idea of fun is not begging, but he wants her to be in it. And if that’s what it takes, then he’s good for it.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ll beg you. You should be begged. Your slave will beg you.”

“Good. I’ll expect that.”

He asks about things. Testing. “Would you piss on me?”

“I can do that for you. I can piss in your mouth. Yes, I did it before.”

“Do you like that? Do you want it?”

“Sure. If you want it.”

“I do.”

“You have to drink it.”

“I will. How does that make you feel?”

“Makes me feel superior.”

What else does she like?

“Clean my cock after I fuck your hole.”

“What if it does not come out clean?”

“Then clean it!”

What more?

“Wanna fart in your face too when I feel to fart.”

Despite the sometimes torrid talk, Tom is reserved. He’s been here before, he knows there’s an industry in the country catering to perverts looking for nasty chat.

And what about him? Bianca wants to know. What does he want, what does he expects, what are his fantasies.

Tom explains it isn’t about him. He’d be the slave pleasuring her. He’d do whatever she likes.

Eventually, he starts to feel as though he’s wasting time. She’s probably a street worker that needs to know what she has to do for her customer and pay.

One another time, when Tom feels the question has a broader scope he slides into wild wet desires.

“I need and want my dominant ladyboy partner, you I hope, to break me apart and remake me into an obedient slave, one molded to her special wishes and requirements.”

He does not know why he has told her that. He himself does not know a meaning to his words, though he finds them steamy Hot. He imagines Bianca does not understand them either and ignores them.

****

Finally, the day set for meeting up arrives. Tom would like to leave earlier, but he only gets on the bus to Angeles at 11, after one hour spent in city traffic. It takes the bus forever to crawl out of the city, though noon does not count as rush hour. Once out of Manila, the bus starts to make steadier progress, though it’s still mind numbingly slow. It’s in Angeles terminal minutes after 2, right on schedule.

Tom calls Bianca and lets her know he arrived in town. From the bus terminal he takes a jeepney to Angeles proper. The windowless monstrosity makes its way slowly on the exhaust-choked roads. It makes Tom rethink not taking a taxi, but he had no budget for it.

His heart races. He’s doing it. He expects disappointment, but he can’t help feeling terribly excited.

They are to meet on a busy street lined with bars. He sees her first, tall as advertised, wearing jeans and a blouse of doubtful taste. Tom fears this first sighting, he has been here before and more often than not felt strongly like turning back. When he did not, he later wished he did. But he’s got here after too long a journey to just turn tail and run. At first, her messy hair and ugly old sissy looks make him lose heart, but he steadies himself and waves to her.

The next moments do little to improve the first impression. She wears a bra, though clearly she has no breasts. Her large and manly feet barely contained in cheap, crappy women’ shoes and her equally large and manly hands bear many small accident marks that testify to a hard, brutal life.

“Hello, Bianca. Finally, we meet!”

“Hello, baby. Happy to see you.”

To be sure, Tom finds the large and manly extremities attractive. And now that she standing next to him he mollifies to some degree and starts to hope things will only get better.

“Happy to see you, too.” It’s must be emotion of finally making it there, but he means it.

“How was the trip?”

“Trip was fine. Say, you wanna hit one of these joints?”

They pick one with an American theme. They linger for one and a half hours, having lunch and beer for Bianca, soda for Tom. He warms to her appearance, finding her oddly pleasant, though in no way beautiful, and to her steady, if rather vulgar presence. About as best as he could have reasonably hoped.

“What should we do now?” she asks over empty plates and glasses.

“Guess not many options for entertaining around.”

“You wanna get a room? Or come to my room?”

Tom has tried the latter in the past, and rarely liked what he found. But decides that he wants to go there, even if just to see it and get a better grip on who Bianca is. And he likes she offered.

“Your place.”

Which turns out to be a cramped room on the third and last floor of a squalid building overlooking a busy street. It’s Hot and wholly unsuited for what Tom hopes for. Not in the least because the bathroom is shared and at the end of a dirty hallway. Plus, there are people in the nearby rooms and nothing in the way of soundproofing. Only thin, plaster separating walls.

They sit on the mattress that lies directly on the floor. He puts his hand around her waist, finding her warmth and sweat arousing. They kiss, slow at first, wider and wetter as it goes. Her mouth has a bad taste, as if she seldom brushes. Tom finds the kiss turning him on and repulsive at the same time.

He eyeballs the room and decides it’s of mixed quality. Neither clean, nor dirty, neither ordered, nor entirely messy.

They kiss more and their hands slid between the other’s legs. There’s rubbing on the outside and then some efforts to get inside. Bianca has unbuttoned Tom’s pants and pulled his dick out. When she makes a move to get her head to it, Tom stops her.

“Say, let’s get a room somewhere else. With a private bathroom and AC.”

“Yes, baby. We can do that. They have cheap rooms down the street. 600 pesos only.”

“Good. And let’s start over. Like what we’ve talked about.”

“You want that?”

He’s not surprised she appears to rather not incline that way. So he has little trouble to suppress the pang of disappointment.

“Yes, Bianca. I do.”

“You really want to be my slave?”

“Yes, please. I do.”

“Okay, baby. I make you my slave today.”

Tom’s dick hardens a notch stiffer just by being called slave.

“Yes, Bianca. Please, I want to be your slave. I want you to use and abuse me.”

She rubs his now hard erection.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a good slave. You want it very much. Your cock tells me you want it.”

“I do.”

“Okay, we go. But remember, my rules. You obey my commands! Slave does what Mistress orders.”

The back of his mind is still fixated on what he believes is her prior experience: creepy old foreigner looking for perverted and dirty fun. Things the local caterers have no understanding of, but do nonetheless for the money and to the indications of excited customers. Then again, how is he any better? Asking her to perform pervy dirty acts, goading her on a path she’d rather not walk?

No way this is gonna be good, he thinks, but there’s nothing else he’d rather do today.

****

The hotel down the road is neither good, nor exactly cheap. But nothing better can be expected in the red Hot party district of Angeles. Yet, the room is a vast improvement over Bianca’s.

Tom is quick to jump in the Shower. He sweats profusely in the tropical climate and he needs his soaked shirt off. He’s out of the bathroom in the AC cooled room to find Bianca switching TV channels.

“Come here.” she says.

He does.

“I see you’re Horny.” She grabs his inflamed cock. “I like it. It turns me on to see you so Horny to be my slave.”

“On your knees.” she orders.

He obeys.

“Put your face on the floor.”

She pushes her left foot in his face.

“Kiss, slave.”

He kisses the foot above the shoe.

“Take my shoe off. Now, the other one.”

He does as told, struggling a bit with taking shoes off somebody else’s feet.

“Kiss them, slave! Kiss your Mistress’ feet. Now put my shoes by the door. No, don’t rise. Crawl!”

He finds her sitting on the bed edge when he crawls back.

“Bianca, would you please turn the TV off?”

“You want it off? Don’t like?”

“Yes, please.”

She turns it off and rises. He’s still on his fours.