Thai Take-Away No. 4

It had been a brilliant, beyond-all-expectations holiday. Quite incredible - the best ever ... And it wasn't over yet.

No. Because if today went as planned, it wouldn't just be the icing on his cake, but the cherry and the hundreds and thousands too.

What a great, value-for-money investment his It's a Funny Old World travel guide had been.

It was how he'd found out about Phut Suk Nou ... and about what took place in the town square, every Friday lunchtime.

Twenty-one-year-old Brendan Burrows was trembling. Shaking, in an anticipation composed of excitement, trepidation, and fear.

Today, was the day ... And the hour, was nigh.

* * *

Even with the 30% discount for an early booking, and foregoing most of his usual little treats, on his delivery driver's wages Brendan had still had to scrimp and save hard, for this dream holiday.

How he had looked forward to it!

And he hadn't been disappointed.

His two-week vacation in the little known, off-the-beaten-track Thai resort of Phut Suk Nou, had turned out to be worth every single penny of his scrimped and saved, hard-earned cash. Worth all of his sacrificed little treats.

Phut Suk Nou, had more than lived up to its promise. More than lived up, to his It's a Funny Old World travel guide's billing.

For the first day or two of his holiday, Brendan couldn't believe it - could hardly believe his eyes. It was like he'd died, and gone to heaven.

Even after almost two weeks, Brendan could still barely get over it ... Get over, the shock.

Seemingly everywhere he looked: in the streets; in the bars; in the restaurants; in the outdoor markets; in the indoor shops; at the food vendors' stalls - even in the telephone kiosks - the Thai girls and women were all at it: Shoe-playing.

There was just no getting away from it - not that Brendan wanted to.

Going about in his shorts, it had been a constant struggle to hide his raging hard-on.

It was a shoe-play lover's paradise. Here, shoe-playing just seemed so incredibly ... commonplace. Incessant, as though it was some sort of national, absentminded pastime.

Brendan had never been so ... entertained, as he'd been this past fortnight.

Entertained, by the highly exciting - incredibly thrilling - antics of the mostly flip flops and flats wearing Thai girls and women as, whether sitting or standing, they absentmindedly shoe-played ... driving him nuts, without their realising it in the slightest.

Thai girls and women, thought Brendan, must surely be the world's leading experts in performing the 'art' of absentminded shoe-play. It was a talent, that seemed to just come so naturally to them.

They were awesome at it, thought Brendan. Just awesome. The things they did!

Brendan continually marvelled, at their phenomenal feats: Their astonishing shoe-playing 'skill'. The sheer variety of pulse-quickening 'tricks', they could do. Whether seated, or standing. And, all of this, without their even 'trying'.

There was no two ways about it: They had to be seen, to be believed.

They were such exquisite ... teasers.

Every day, all day, they had 'teased' him without respite. Incessantly, they had 'ruthlessly' and 'mercilessly' ... tickled his fancy.

To Brendan, these sublimely shoe-playing Thai girls and women were like goddesses. Goddesses, in this heaven, he'd come to. And he revered them, as such. Brendan longed to go to his knees at their shoe-playing feet - whether sitting, or standing - and solemnly profess his adoration. For they were more than worthy, of his devout worship.

Their feet were just so amazingly beautiful, and shapely ... and sexy. Their soles, especially when caught by this glorious Eastern sun, were the most beautiful golden shades of tan colours.

Day after day, and night after night, back in his hotel room Brendan had abused himself dreadfully. Thinking of all the exciting shoe-play scenes he had witnessed, he just couldn't leave 'himself' alone.

Brendan had never jacked off so much in his life ... And he would have lots of lovely mental snapshots and mini-video memories to take home with him, too.

Especially, if today went according to plan. And if his 'little white lies', were believed.

Because today, Brendan was hoping for rather more, than just his usual 'sight seeing' successes. Hoping for rather more, than just being exquisitely 'teased'.

Today, he was hoping for the piece de resistance ... the very reason, he had come to the little known, off-the-beaten-track Thai resort of Phut Suk Nou.

The piece de resistance, as was so excitingly and graphically described, in his It's a Funny Old World travel guide.

Today was the last day of Brendan's Thailand holiday, and he meant to end it on a high ... He doubted he'd be back.

* * *

Friday. 12:30 pm.

The town square of Phut Suk Nou was crowded, mostly with Thai girls and women ... Just as it had been, last Friday.

Last Friday, Brendan recalled, there had been five of them. This Friday, there were only three of them: Three, bowing-their-heads-in-shame, uneasy-looking Thai youths. Each of them, with their wrists tightly cable-tied behind their back.

And the three young Thai men had good reason to look uneasy, for they knew exactly what was in store for them ... as did Brendan.

Numbered from 1 to 3, the three Thai youths wore their designated number hanging from their necks.

Printed in black on an A-4 size sheet of white paper, and placed inside a clear plastic envelope, by means of the attached piece of string looped over the offending youths' heads, their offender's identification number was thus placed over their chest for all to see.

The commotion from the gathered crowd grew louder. Grew louder, as the three young Thai offenders were roughly prompted forward by the six cane-wielding female overseers, who were the ruthless, merciless officiates of these weekly proceedings.

There was a palpable sense of expectancy; an air of excited anticipation. Of drama. Brendan could feel it.

Nudging the miscreant's lower back with the tip of her cane, one of the female overseers then directed Offender Number 1 to address the gathered crowd, in relation to why he had found himself in this predicament.

And, in letting their sentiments of disapprobation be known, the gathered members of the mostly female crowd were highly vocal, in the venting of their outraged feelings. They shouted their insults and curses, as Offender Number 1 confessed to them the nature of his felonious activities.

When Offender Number 2 was similarly prompted, by another cane-prodding female official, he received an even more vociferous reception from the insulting and cursing Thai girls and women. Some of them, even urging the cane-wielding female overseers to thrash the fessing-up offender, where he stood ... they were getting in the mood. Just like last Friday.

Then, when Offender Number 3 was similarly prompted to denounce himself, by a third female overseer ... it was now or never. And Brendan Burrows made his move.

As Offender Number 3 confessed his sins against society to the by now baying Thai girls and women, under the cover of the ensuing uproar Brendan sneaked behind the cane-wielding female overseers and, stealthily, he made his way to the cardboard box where the offenders' numbered identification tags were kept. On the top of the pile, was Number 4 ... and Brendan picked it up, and looped the attached string around his neck.

Now, just as Brendan had seen happen last Friday, on the ground in front of each offender, the cane-wielding female overseers placed a square shaped, two-foot by two-foot, white plastic mat.

And, when they saw the two white-apron wearing female chefs approaching from the Phut Suk Nou Pagoda restaurant, and carrying between them a large, two-handled cooking pot, wisps of steam escaping from tiny holes in the lid, the Thai girls' and women's expectant excitement grew louder.

From out of the large cooking pot, the two female chefs liberally ladled boiled white rice onto the three white plastic mats, clouds of steam, billowing into the already humid air.

Having duly performed their own part in these weekly proceedings, the two female chefs stood for a moment and, staring witheringly at the three young male Thai offenders before them, they berated them with words that Brendan did not understand, but nonetheless correctly intuited their context.

Upon having vented their feelings, the two female chefs then returned to the busy Pagoda restaurant, leaving the still more than half-full pot behind.

Perfectly cooked, the still-steaming grains of swollen, moist white rice were tender and fluffy. And as the six female overseers used chopsticks to spread the rice over the surfaces of the three white plastic mats, the grains separated readily, creating an inch-thick white mat, of themselves.

Now, as one, all of the Thai females aged eighteen and over discarded their flip flops, shucked off their flats, stepped out of their sandals, slipped off their mules ... and there was uproar.

Pandemonium, as the gathered Thai girls and women jostled each other. Pushing and shoving and elbowing out of their way, others of their number, who were also vying to be the first to occupy one of those three prized positions.

Vying, to be the first to stand on one of those inch-thick beds of immaculate-white rice, in their bare feet ... and despoil it.

The three Thai females, to claim 'firsts', gleefully soiled the rice beneath their feet. Waving their arms exultantly, and sashaying their bottoms in a dance of diabolical delight, they each cruelly taunted the cowering offender before them, laughing gloatingly in their wretched, despairing faces.

Green with envy, at having to content themselves with 'seconds', the other Thai girls and women looked on.

Looked on, as the lucky three gleefully desecrated the virginal, fluffy white grains under their purposefully unwashed, and deliberately-dirtied bare soles.

Looked on, jealously, as the lucky three maliciously mashed their soles, gleefully ground in their grubby heels, and sadistically scrunched their toes; the crushed, diabolically dirtied grains squelching out from in between them.

And the three offenders looked on, too ... in horror.

Repulsed, as, like tiny wash-sponges, the swollen, moisture-laden fluffy grains scrubbed off and absorbed from the soles of the Thai girls' and women's purposefully unwashed and deliberately-dirtied feet, all of the dust, dirt, their days' old sweat, their flaky, crumbly dead skin, and their in-between-the-toes gunge.

Already, under the despoiling bare soles of just the first three of the clamouring crowd of Thai females, the three beds of perfectly cooked, moist and fluffy grains of immaculate-white rice were turned into a yucky, monstrous mess. Terribly transformed, into three 'unmade' beds of grey and gruesome gruel.

Offender Number 1, upon his being peremptorily ordered to his knees before his plastic white mat full of ruined rice, by one of the stern-voiced, stern-faced, cane-wielding female overseers, promptly burst into tears.

Teary-eyed, and his face crumpled in misery, Offender Number 1 abjectly turned to the female official and, in the high-pitch voiced, sing-song dialect that Brendan had been hearing for the past fortnight, he blubbered something to the stony-faced female overseer. And, although Brendan didn't understand a word, he perfectly understood that Offender Number 1 was pathetically pleading and begging for mercy.

In answer, without ceremony, two of the other cane-wielding female overseers pulled down the all-broke-up Offender Number 1's shorts and, with their terrible, flexible canes they set about tanning the tan cheeks of his bare bottom, administering a blur of vicious, expertly-aimed strokes. In seconds, his buttocks were a mass of vivid red weals.

In answer, Offender Number 1 emitted a series of shrill, piercing cries. Such howls, as Brendan was sure the fishermen three miles off shore could hear.

Raising her voice to a fearsome, ear-splitting shriek, the female overseer again ordered Offender Number 1 to his knees, gesturing with her dreadful cane to the gruesome grains before him, on his 'place mat'.

But, before Offender Number 1 was duly driven to his knees, Brendan, wearing around his neck the perversely misappropriated offender's identification tag Number 4, duly made his unscripted appearance ... and stopped proceedings in their tracks.

At this unprecedented occurrence, the gathered crowd of all-riled-up Thai girls and women, and the stern-voiced, stern-faced, cane-wielding female overseers, fell totally silent, in confusion.

After a head-shaking consultation with her clipboard, the first of the bewildered female overseers to find her voice, harshly demanded of Brendan, "Who are you? What are you doing here? Answer! There is no one else on my list - and certainly no Westerners," she said in good English.

In reply, Brendan said, "Miss, perhaps there has been a mistake with your paperwork, or something? My name is Brendan Burrows. And I'm a tourist, from England."

Except for the flannel about the messed-up paperwork, this much was true ... Now, for his 'little white lies'.

Before the female overseers knew what he was about, Brendan was addressing himself to the crowd of still stunned and staring Thai girls and women ... and 'denouncing' himself.

"Ladies, I have spent the entire two weeks of my holiday, in Phut Suk Nou, committing criminal acts, solely against females."

Upon seeing some blank looks, from the non-English speaking Thai girls and women in the gathered crowd, the female overseer who'd addressed Brendan now translated his words for their benefit. And, to Brendan's ear, her recital in Thai sounded like a horrendously long list of the most outrageous atrocities imaginable.

At hearing this amazing 'confession', the throng of Thai girls and women quickly found their voices again ... and Brendan quickly found his wrists being tightly cable-tied behind his back, by one of the cane-wielding female overseers. The one who spoke good English.

"Ladies of Phut Suk Nou," Brendan blurted on, "I have stolen your wallets, your purses, your billfolds, and anything else, for that matter, that I could sell for money."

Now, the girls and ladies of Phut Suk Nou were going bananas, angrily demanding justice ... Justice, their way.

Justice, as was described in thrilling, graphic detail, in Brendan's It's a Funny Old World travel guide, with reference to Phut Suk Nou.

And so now a fourth square shaped, two-foot by two-foot, white plastic 'place mat' was produced, and placed on the ground, before Brendan.

And, upon which, from the large cooking pot, perfectly cooked, moist and fluffy grains of the still-steaming, pristine-white boiled rice was liberally ladled; the swollen grains, separating readily as the female overseers used chopsticks to spread them out over the white plastic mat, and creating an inch-thick white mat, of themselves.

"I have," Brendan went on, brazenly, "taken your hard-earned money - the wages, that you work so hard, and such long hours for - and spent every last penny of it, on beer and betting."

At first, there was a stunned, shocked and disbelieving silence ... and then they believed.

Inwardly, Brendan was exultant. His daring plan had worked: The girls and women of Phut Suk Nou believed - believed, his calculated and carefully crafted 'little white lies'.

"And, do you know something?" added Brendan. "I've really enjoyed myself."

And pandemonium broke out again.

Uproar, as the furiously competing Thai girls and women jostled each other.

Bedlam, as the females of Phut Suk Nou pushed and shoved and elbowed out of their way, others of their number, who were vying to be the first, to occupy this fourth, and even more coveted position - more coveted, because this offender was a Westerner.

Vying, to be the first, to stand upon this fourth bed of virginal, immaculate-white bed of still-steaming, tender grained, moist and fluffy boiled rice, in their purposefully unwashed, and deliberately-dirtied bare feet.

Vying, to be the one to despoil it.

Vying, to be the first to make the offending Westerner eat it ... from the soles of their dirty bare feet.

Now, Brendan felt the tip of the good-English speaking female overseer's cane, prodding his lower back meaningfully. Gesturing with her wicked-looking cane towards Brendan's 'place mat', she shrilled, "Offender number four! On your knees! Now!"

Brendan immediately complied ... he'd witnessed the painful consequences of being too slow off the mark - let alone, actual non-compliance.

Now, all four offenders were on their knees, at their 'place mats'.

And the Thai female who had triumphantly secured 'pole position' - a girl of about Brendan's own age (twenty-one), and who was wearing a bright yellow, short skirt that showed off her shapely golden legs to maximum effect - exultantly set about spoiling Brendan's 'lunch'.

Trampling it underfoot, she irrevocably ruined Brendan's mid-day 'repast'.

Brendan watched, as she maliciously mashed her dirty soles, gleefully ground her grimy heels, and sadistically scrunched her toes; the crushed, dreadfully dirtied grains, squishing out from in between them.

And, exultantly waving her arms, and sashaying her bottom in a dance of diabolical delight, she gloatingly laughed in Brendan's face, as she did so.

And Brendan was having the time of his life.

It just wasn't Offender Number 1's day, though.

Apparently refusing to eat his 'dinner', now, two of the female overseers dragged Offender Number 1 to his feet, and pulled down his shorts again. And, setting about his already grievously injured bare bottom with their hideous, thin and flexible canes, they caused him to emit such a series of high, agonised cries, that had to be heard to be believed. And so, though Brendan didn't see the female overseers' flurry of flailing canes this time, nonetheless, he knew that their wicked instruments of chastisement had found their marks ... and left their marks.

Then, ordered to his knees again, at his 'place mat', Offender Number 1's self-pitying sobbing could clearly be heard as, with the greatest possible reluctance, he compliantly partook of the frightful fare that was being 'offered' to him.

And now Brendan, also, was being forced to face Justice ... Justice, the Phut Suk Nou way.

Justice, as had been so thrillingly and so graphically described, in his It's a Funny Old World travel guide.

Turning her back on Brendan, his female Thai 'tormentor' raised the 'punishing' sole of her right foot to his waiting face ... And Brendan was awestruck.

Brendan was mesmerised, as he watched odd grains - mostly grey, but, by some miracle, some grains still white - falling back to his 'place mat' as, entranced, he gazed in rapture at the Thai girl's boiled-rice covered bare sole.

Next to Brendan, though, apparently Offender Number 3's heart wasn't in it. As his tormentor - a woman in her mid-forties - vociferously complained to the female overseers, of his lack of ... appetite.

Upon which, Offender Number 3 was dragged to his feet by four of the female overseers, two to each arm.

Ruthlessly and mercilessly, they pulled down his shorts, and Brendan winced at the ensuing, awful sound of the seemingly endless viciously administered cane strikes, as the four female overseers brutally lashed out at Offender Number 3's fully exposed bare buttocks. Offender Number 3 was obviously in great pain, as he had very good reason to be; what, with all of those terrible vivid red welts, but Brendan thought he'd manned-up better than Offender Number 1.

Their administration of chastisement duly conducted, the four female overseers then ordered the now whimpering - the second-wave pain, obviously now beginning to kick in - Offender Number 3 back to his knees, before his 'place mat'. And, as he obediently complied, the female overseers threatened him with further and even more painful reprisals, should he cause them to raise their canes to him again.