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Moon
- Joined
- Jun 21, 2022
The van rattled to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust that hung in the thick, humid air. One by one, the five women clambered out, stretching their long legs and adjusting the heavy backpacks slung over their shoulders. They were all smiles, their laughter a bright, carefree sound that seemed almost too loud for the stillness of the jungle around them.
"Wow, can you believe this place?" Sarah, the tallest of the group, exclaimed as she took in their surroundings. Her blonde hair shimmered in the late afternoon sun, and her eyes were wide with excitement. "This is exactly what we were looking for—real Bali, far from the tourist traps."
"Totally," added Jessica, her shorter friend with a similar golden mane, as she snapped a quick selfie with the dense jungle backdrop. "I can't wait to post this. 'Finding myself in the heart of Bali'—so authentic, right?"
"Yeah, this is gonna get so many likes," giggled Emily, the youngest of the group, barely out of her teens and already documenting every moment of their trip on her phone. "I mean, who wants to see more beach pics when we've got this? We're practically locals now."
"Sure, locals who need a shower after that ride," Kate, the more pragmatic one, joked, wrinkling her nose as she tried to smooth her windblown hair. "But seriously, can we talk about how amazing this place is? We're like, the only ones here! No crowds, no noise, just pure, unfiltered nature."
"Exactly," agreed Laura, who had been quiet until now, her eyes scanning the tree line. "This is going to be so much better than those cheesy beach clubs. We're finally experiencing the real Bali, like the travel blogs said."
The hostel, "Ujan Local," stood before them like something out of an old storybook—its thatched roof slightly weathered, the intricately carved wooden doors seemingly a portal to another time. The jungle loomed around them, thick and green, almost as if it were alive and breathing. The place was exactly what they had hoped for: remote, untouched, and far removed from the beaten tourist paths.
As they approached the entrance, the group's chatter began to fade, replaced by a growing unsettling feeling.
"Is it just me, or does it feel like we're being watched?" Emily whispered, her voice betraying a hint of the nervousness she tried to hide.
"Come on, Em, don't be silly," Sarah said, though she, too, glanced around, as if expecting to see someone emerge from the dense foliage.
"It's just… you know, the vibe of the place. Super authentic. We're probably just not used to it."
They reached the front desk, where Wayan sat, watching them with a calm, unreadable expression. His eyes moved slowly from one woman to the next, taking in their height, their blonde hair, their pale skin—a stark contrast to the rich, dark surroundings of the jungle. We'd like to check in," Sarah said, her voice upbeat as she set her backpack down on the counter. The others nodded enthusiastically.
Wayan's smile widened, but it was a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course," he replied, his tone friendly but carrying a weight that made the women pause. "But I must warn you… once you check in, you may never want to check out."
*ONE WEEK LATER*
"Ughhh! Y-yes, right there, you're so strong!" Sarah moaned, her voice dripping with a forced enthusiasm as she leaned down, her long legs straddling a local Balinese man seated in one of the dimly lit corners of what had once been the hostel's cozy common room. Now, it had transformed into a twisted den of vice, the air thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something far more oppressive. Sarah's hands roved over the man's shoulders, her body moving in time with the sultry music playing in the background. Her once carefree laughter was now replaced by breathy, over-exaggerated giggles, her blonde hair falling in waves over her face as she danced on his lap.
Across the room, Jessica, in a tight, barely-there waitress outfit that clung to her tall, slender frame, was serving drinks to a group of local men. She bent low as she handed each one their glass, her platform heels clicking against the wooden floor as she moved, her voice sweet and high-pitched. "Here you go, handsome," she purred, her Dutch-accented words a mix of flirtation and desperation."
Emily, her face flushed, sat on the lap of another Balinese man, her legs wrapped around his waist as she leaned in close, whispering in his ear. "You're so big and strong," she cooed. Her hands ran over his chest, emphasizing the contrast between her tall, statuesque figure and his smaller frame, her every movement designed to stoke his ego.
In the center of the room, Laura was dancing, her body moving to the slow, hypnotic rhythm of the music. She twirled and swayed, her eyes half-lidded as she made eye contact with the men who watched her every move. "You like what you see?" she teased, her words slurred slightly from the alcohol she'd been forced to consume.
Nearby, Kate was leading two men towards the back of the hostel, now the VIP room, where the true horrors of the night unfolded. Her heels clicked ominously against the floor as she walked, her hips swaying in a way that was both seductive and reluctant. "Follow me, boys," she said, her voice a sultry whisper, though there was a tremor in it that betrayed her true feelings. "I'll make sure you have a night you won't forget."
END SCENE!
-------
If you read through all that, thank you! This is the story of the Ujan Local and its owner Wayan. Through word of mouth travelers are lured to his hostel with the promise of a unique and authentic Bali experience. Little do they know as they will never leave! What is a hostel for foreigners becomes a brothel for local men to experience the pleasure of foreign flesh. With this idea I address the question, who gets to enjoy paradise? Is it the exploited locals or the white westerners of former colonizer countries who flock to the tropics for rest, relaxation, and adventure? I know my answer. But I pose my own question, what if there is a way for locals to finally, truly experience the benefits of tourism? With that question in mind i'm looking for someone to embark on this, what I describe as a sexy race-revenge, semi-horror story about tourism, racism, colonialism. You know... all that great sexy stuff you come to dpp to for, haha! Think Jordan Peele's "Get Out" but with an anti-colonial twist. Of course here are the kinks I really want to explore: mind control, hypnosis, misogyny, race-revenge, drugs, raceplay, tall female x short male, amwf, humiliation, degradation, maledom, outfit control.
Now what I'm looking for in a partner is someone creative, literate, good at open and clear communication, and not a must, but possibly has some thoughts on global north exploitation of the third world and tourism as necolonialism. Also important is that I am looking for someone to play multiple women in this story. I will hear responses from partners who will and can only play individual characters but they gotta be promising!
Lastly, a little about myself. I am Indonesian and this idea was created when I was staying at a Bali hostel and was not just the only Indonesian who was a guest but the only not-white. Bali itself is a playground for overwhelmingly white foreigners and tourist based mono-economies do more harm than good. So this fantasy is quite a personal one for me!
"Wow, can you believe this place?" Sarah, the tallest of the group, exclaimed as she took in their surroundings. Her blonde hair shimmered in the late afternoon sun, and her eyes were wide with excitement. "This is exactly what we were looking for—real Bali, far from the tourist traps."
"Totally," added Jessica, her shorter friend with a similar golden mane, as she snapped a quick selfie with the dense jungle backdrop. "I can't wait to post this. 'Finding myself in the heart of Bali'—so authentic, right?"
"Yeah, this is gonna get so many likes," giggled Emily, the youngest of the group, barely out of her teens and already documenting every moment of their trip on her phone. "I mean, who wants to see more beach pics when we've got this? We're practically locals now."
"Sure, locals who need a shower after that ride," Kate, the more pragmatic one, joked, wrinkling her nose as she tried to smooth her windblown hair. "But seriously, can we talk about how amazing this place is? We're like, the only ones here! No crowds, no noise, just pure, unfiltered nature."
"Exactly," agreed Laura, who had been quiet until now, her eyes scanning the tree line. "This is going to be so much better than those cheesy beach clubs. We're finally experiencing the real Bali, like the travel blogs said."
The hostel, "Ujan Local," stood before them like something out of an old storybook—its thatched roof slightly weathered, the intricately carved wooden doors seemingly a portal to another time. The jungle loomed around them, thick and green, almost as if it were alive and breathing. The place was exactly what they had hoped for: remote, untouched, and far removed from the beaten tourist paths.
As they approached the entrance, the group's chatter began to fade, replaced by a growing unsettling feeling.
"Is it just me, or does it feel like we're being watched?" Emily whispered, her voice betraying a hint of the nervousness she tried to hide.
"Come on, Em, don't be silly," Sarah said, though she, too, glanced around, as if expecting to see someone emerge from the dense foliage.
"It's just… you know, the vibe of the place. Super authentic. We're probably just not used to it."
They reached the front desk, where Wayan sat, watching them with a calm, unreadable expression. His eyes moved slowly from one woman to the next, taking in their height, their blonde hair, their pale skin—a stark contrast to the rich, dark surroundings of the jungle. We'd like to check in," Sarah said, her voice upbeat as she set her backpack down on the counter. The others nodded enthusiastically.
Wayan's smile widened, but it was a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course," he replied, his tone friendly but carrying a weight that made the women pause. "But I must warn you… once you check in, you may never want to check out."
*ONE WEEK LATER*
"Ughhh! Y-yes, right there, you're so strong!" Sarah moaned, her voice dripping with a forced enthusiasm as she leaned down, her long legs straddling a local Balinese man seated in one of the dimly lit corners of what had once been the hostel's cozy common room. Now, it had transformed into a twisted den of vice, the air thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something far more oppressive. Sarah's hands roved over the man's shoulders, her body moving in time with the sultry music playing in the background. Her once carefree laughter was now replaced by breathy, over-exaggerated giggles, her blonde hair falling in waves over her face as she danced on his lap.
Across the room, Jessica, in a tight, barely-there waitress outfit that clung to her tall, slender frame, was serving drinks to a group of local men. She bent low as she handed each one their glass, her platform heels clicking against the wooden floor as she moved, her voice sweet and high-pitched. "Here you go, handsome," she purred, her Dutch-accented words a mix of flirtation and desperation."
Emily, her face flushed, sat on the lap of another Balinese man, her legs wrapped around his waist as she leaned in close, whispering in his ear. "You're so big and strong," she cooed. Her hands ran over his chest, emphasizing the contrast between her tall, statuesque figure and his smaller frame, her every movement designed to stoke his ego.
In the center of the room, Laura was dancing, her body moving to the slow, hypnotic rhythm of the music. She twirled and swayed, her eyes half-lidded as she made eye contact with the men who watched her every move. "You like what you see?" she teased, her words slurred slightly from the alcohol she'd been forced to consume.
Nearby, Kate was leading two men towards the back of the hostel, now the VIP room, where the true horrors of the night unfolded. Her heels clicked ominously against the floor as she walked, her hips swaying in a way that was both seductive and reluctant. "Follow me, boys," she said, her voice a sultry whisper, though there was a tremor in it that betrayed her true feelings. "I'll make sure you have a night you won't forget."
END SCENE!
-------
If you read through all that, thank you! This is the story of the Ujan Local and its owner Wayan. Through word of mouth travelers are lured to his hostel with the promise of a unique and authentic Bali experience. Little do they know as they will never leave! What is a hostel for foreigners becomes a brothel for local men to experience the pleasure of foreign flesh. With this idea I address the question, who gets to enjoy paradise? Is it the exploited locals or the white westerners of former colonizer countries who flock to the tropics for rest, relaxation, and adventure? I know my answer. But I pose my own question, what if there is a way for locals to finally, truly experience the benefits of tourism? With that question in mind i'm looking for someone to embark on this, what I describe as a sexy race-revenge, semi-horror story about tourism, racism, colonialism. You know... all that great sexy stuff you come to dpp to for, haha! Think Jordan Peele's "Get Out" but with an anti-colonial twist. Of course here are the kinks I really want to explore: mind control, hypnosis, misogyny, race-revenge, drugs, raceplay, tall female x short male, amwf, humiliation, degradation, maledom, outfit control.
Now what I'm looking for in a partner is someone creative, literate, good at open and clear communication, and not a must, but possibly has some thoughts on global north exploitation of the third world and tourism as necolonialism. Also important is that I am looking for someone to play multiple women in this story. I will hear responses from partners who will and can only play individual characters but they gotta be promising!
Lastly, a little about myself. I am Indonesian and this idea was created when I was staying at a Bali hostel and was not just the only Indonesian who was a guest but the only not-white. Bali itself is a playground for overwhelmingly white foreigners and tourist based mono-economies do more harm than good. So this fantasy is quite a personal one for me!