Dick Dig Dignity
Early afternoon on a warm summer day. I sat alone in my single room in my boarding school in the Swiss Alps, when it knocked at my door.
The visitor was a student of my age – about 15 or so – by the name of Heidi. She was new, and before she arrived the principal had informed me confidentially – as I was the student’s speaker by protocol – that Heidi was a problem case. She had been abused when aged under 15 and had joined our school to be reintegrated into the society.
Heidi was a nice girl, very soft and quiet, always helpful, in no way suffering from post-traumatic shock. When you saw her, you just wanted to take her in your arms and cuddle her. But that was absolutely contraindicated in respect to her background.
Now she came to my room, neatly dressed and asked me, “Felix, do you have a silver coin?”
At that time Switzerland used a coin of pure silver as legal tender in the value of five Schweizer Franken.
“Maybe,” I answered. “What do you need it for?”
“Is it true,” she replied, “that you have never been together with a girl intimately?”
“I am waiting for the right girl.”
“Now look, Felix, if you give me that silver coin, I’ll show you how it is done.”
“Heidi, we do not know each other that well.”
“You do not need to be good friends or lovers, to do it. Even with strangers it is nice and easy and so satisfying.”
Wasn’t this a situation every teenage boy lusted for? But in this moment I only thought of escape.
As the student’s speaker I could never touch her. After she had left, I rationalized what made her hope. Heidi was not damaged by abuse but had become addicted, which was against the rules of the society she lived in. So if she did it solely for her own pleasure, she might see herself as a slut, but by accepting a silver coin, she created value with her body. And the creation of value is a highly respected Swiss national sport. You find this kind of moral also in Thai barfine-girls, who do not allow their Farang boyfriends to butterfly, while they themselves see nothing in creating value with other guests.
More than 15 years and a failed marriage later I discovered the wisdom of what Heidi had said to me, that you didn’t need to be good friends or in love to do it and enjoy it. This happened to me, when I began to work in the East. In the West I had never desired P4P.
Recently a contributor to these pages recommended Germany for sex-tourists. Hundreds of sex clubs offer low priced delights for the distinguished traveller, he wrote. This good man got it completely wrong. In Germany you will hardly find a traditional sex club (like the old Nobis Tor in Hamburg). What they have now are hundreds of rape-clubs where you can force yourself upon young and underage sex slaves kidnapped from Eastern Europe. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall, the slave trade has become a big business in Europe to the tune of 20 billion Euros a year. If a victim asks a German policeman for help, she is immediately put in jail (as an illegal alien) and deported to her country of origin. So she can never give testimony against her pimps in court. This means the police are on a nationwide scale dick-deep involved in this racket.
In colonial Hong Kong I once researched the underground sex clubs kept by the mafia or triads. They were not for Farangs, only for locals, but as I speak and read Chinese, they did not shoo me away. The girls there were usually leased on a long term contract from older family members (mostly in payment of gambling debts). They were circulated through the big Asian cities, Manila, Surabaya, Bangkok, Macau. Most important, the mafia delivered a part of their earnings to their families at home, as I learned from the girls themselves. The East has more humanity than the West.
As a boy I watched the American movie “South Pacific”. It demonstrated that the South Sea beauties had not yet been enlightened to the concept of sinning. I resolved to visit those enchanted islands, but when old enough I found in Bangkok, Singapore, Taiwan what I was looking for, and I discovered on many Asian beaches places called Bali Hai. Even in Pattaya.
When I read Stick’s interview with the bestseller-producer Jerry Hopkins I felt in a weird way touched by Jerry's creation of the title “Whore-Lover”. I would never call a lady who has shared her body with me a whore. That is too pejorative. I prefer the Chinese expression “self employed business woman.” But emotions were in this context no stranger to me.
While I had in the West long lasting love affairs (up to 20 years) I had in Asia no qualms entering short term BGF relations. I had not many such encounters, but most of them were deeply satisfying, because Asian women are not conditioned to hate themselves for feeling lust. So yes, it is possible to be a Whore-Lover by another name, because the pleasure one receives in the arms of a professional surpasses that of marital conjugation. Why? Because your wife or faithful lover has not experienced the variety of contacts that shape the interaction between a bargirl and her Farang admirer.
I see only one danger in seeking and finding lust in Asia. You might fall in love and lose your freedom.
Nice final sentence.