No sooner had that been effected than I had to turn around and regurgitate the contents of my stomach, the blood and puss from my mouth adding to the terrible odour. I swallowed more pills to make sure some antibiotics hit my system whilst fingering my rock-hard cock. I burned through the pain of my bloated face by doing a quick hand job, full of the echo of sodomizing Wan – had to be the ultimate sexual kick in the Orient. I ate my own semen, desperate for some good sustenance; at least I was still one up on the Indians who like to drink their own urine.

Walking back to the hotel, my trousers hung loose around my waist as if I’d lost a kilogram or two in the last hour. I could feel the pain seeping out from my bruised mouth; every passing second the intensity fading into a milder thrumming. What was left of my mind moving towards elation that the body had escaped the trauma almost wholly intact, the episode merely a huge hint to get out of town as fast as possible.

Stumbled down the narrow, slum lined alleyway that led to the hotel. Never a quiet place, with wailing infants tottering in front of screaming motorcycles as their owners tried to tune their engines whilst dogs snarled or wailed at their fate in life.

The chaos much more intense than normal. Six police cars, maybe more as large groups of Cambodians had congregated to find out what all the fuss was about, obscuring what was really happening. Huge crowds gathered at the merest hint of free entertainment.

The cops assembled outside my hotel; inspired me with no confidence whatsoever – either Sleighy captured after attacking the gay bar, accusing me of setting up the operation or Wan had gone running to the cops with stories about my raping or sodomizing her.

The theories were, in fact, endless – any foreigner who rumoured to have money could be arrested at any time on almost any charge on the whim or greed of any of the many corrupt cops. As soon as I saw the police I did a rapid backtrack into the obscurity of the alleyway.

The first taxi driver looked at me as if I was a monster from the swamp, promptly driving off, muttering Buddhist chants under his breath. The fifth finally comprehended my guttural mutterings, my mouth too stiff, bloated and painful to allow clear articulation. Agreed to take me to my destination but only at twice the going rate. The taxi down on its springs, the air-conditioning coming from huge holes in what was left of the floor.