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Money can't buy you love. The Paggers Papers[link]

Posted by Manstuprator on 2024-April-14 21:08:59, Sunday

But with money, can it be rented?

The Paggers Papers
by Richard Rawson
with an introduction by
J. M. Cameron
First edition, 1993 by The Acolyte Press
(I previously posted links to Part 2 of this -- by Acolyte Press). This is True Life Experience #1 the same author, Richard Rawson. Scroll down the board to find it...)

Introduction
by J. M. Cameron
Reading this delightful reminiscence elicited two quite different
responses in me. On the one hand I marveled at how perfectly Richard has
managed to capture the essence of life in this earthly paradise; on the other
hand, I suspect that had I not been there myself I would probably question
his veracity. In fact, as I pen these notes from my bunker it seems
impossible that there really did exist, and not that long ago, a place where a
lover of lads could indulge his desires so openly, so free from guilt or fear.
Now, alas, it's history, and all that remains are the memories of those like
Richard who were fortunate enough to have known it in its heyday.
I first heard of Paggers in the mid-sixties, when I was doing some
research in the Sodatic Zone. I was 'told not to miss this jungle village
where boys as young as eight practically broke down your door in their
eagerness to please you for a modest gratuity. But miss it I did, partly
because I only half-believed the tales, but chiefly because by the time I got
to that part of the world I was so exhausted from my labors in the fleshpots
of Tangier, Colombo, and Bangkok, that the mere thought of further
debauchery was as tempting as the prospect of a Lucullan banquet
immediately following a seven-course dinner. I was, for the moment at
least, sated, so I passed it up.
A decade or so later I began getting first-hand reports about it from
reliable friends, among them Richard himself, who pressed me to join him
on one of his visits. I resisted, pleading such things as work, commitments,
poverty, but when he said, “Don't wait too long, J.M., - these are the good
old days,” a bell rang. Anyone who has ever pursued the elusive faunlet in
far-off lands is familiar with the refrain, “You should have been here in the
good old days!” I was determined not to miss out on these good old days.
So I went.
The success of that first trip was due to a large extent to Richard, who
from the moment of my groggy arrival orchestrated my initiation into the
delights of Paggers. After dumping my bags in Coco Grove No.5 I joined
him at the free-form, spring-fed pool, where, like Tiberias with his
'minnows', he was engaged in a game of water-Frisbee with a dozen or so
little Speedo-c1ad boys. He ceased his disporting long enough to introduce
me to a couple of youngsters he thought I might find agreeable, and a few
minutes later I was back in my room with one of them, who very quickly
helped me relieve my pent-up passions. And that night, awakening at what
was probably mid-day USA time and finding a warm brown body on either
side of me, I thought, “I am dead, and this is how life is meant to be!”
Nothing ever quite matched the feeling of that first night, but from then
until my teary departure in Floro's cab three weeks later, I lived in a world I
never knew could exist. This was not merely because of the plenitude,
sometimes plethora, of potential door-smashers, though this was of course
the sine qua non. What made the place unique was the atmosphere of
acceptance. One didn't have to be furtive. One could walk hand-in-hand
with a small friend through the streets of the village and elicit only amused
or knowing smiles. Best of all, one could even develop a relationship with
a particular favorite, though' as Richard warns, and I found out to my
sorrow more than once, one fell in love at one's own risk – fidelity was not
these boys' strongest suit.
For the boys it was more than just a chance to earn some baksheesh,
though this was their sine qua non. Our rooms provided them with a
welcome change from the squalor of their own houses. In addition to
offering clean sheets, a hot (often) shower, and a flushing toilet, they were a
haven where boys could relax, play cards or other games, socialize, or just
catch up on sleep. Two images come to mind. One is of Alex J., (not to be
confused with Pretty Alex or Monkey Alex or Awful Alex), naked of course,
singing and discoing to “One Way Ticket”, a banana for a mike, his loose
hips gyrating, his titi, his little penis, swinging in circles like stripper's
tassel. The other is of 12-year-old Dennis stretched out nude on the bed,
one leg flexed, his bottom twitching expressively as he draws vibrant color
pictures of his house in Magdapio, or the Falls, or idealized tropical shores
he will never visit, singing softly to himself.
It was too good to last, of course. The pendulum had already begun its
inexorable swing from the Age of Aquarius back into the dark night of
Puritan repression. The Reagan/Meese mentality, abetted by Christian do-
gooders, greedy international charities, and self-appointed guardians of the
public morals like Dr. Judianne Densen-Gerber, would soon make itself felt
around the globe. I returned four times, and had many memorable
experiences, but with each trip it became increasingly clear that the good
old days were numbered. Publicity in a gay guide and a stupid book called
Desert Patrol caused an influx of rich and indiscreet Europeans who
showered the boys with money and fancy clothes, so that they forsook their
simple garb of practical shorts and T-shirts for designer jeans and polo
shirts with alligators. An Aussie opened a , “pub” downtown catering to
foreigners. Over our breakfast newspapers we sometimes ran across
articles which had unflattering things to say about visitors like us. In town
we were sometimes made to feel unwelcome. We learned to keep a low
profile. Parents who had not only tolerated but actively supported the
“cottage industry” now found themselves ostracized by certain villagers.
On my last trip, in 1986, I was greeted, just outside Paggers, by an
immense billboard strongly advising pedophiles to go home. At the Lodge
there had been nocturnal visitations by immigration authorities. The police
were not above supplementing their salaries with a little blackmail. Then,
in February, 1988, twenty foreigners were arrested and either deported or
jailed. It seemed the end had come.
Can Paradise be regained? If Richard, who knows and loves the place
as well as anyone, had the faintest hope that this was possible he never
would have permitted The Paggers Papers to be published. This is, in fact,
in the nature of a “now-it-can-be-told” book, because the party's over. The
fat lady has sung. But the melody lingers on in these pages. Richard sets
the tone right off in his three opening vignettes; about a boy named Rolfie
who knows where to come to get relief; about a waiter at the Lodge who is
annoyed with his son not because he spent the night with Richard but
because he didn't tell his father where he was going; and about a
grandmother who thanks Richard profusely and very publicly for being so
good to all her grandsons.
You'll read about a typical dinner at the local restaurant with a dozen or
more boys, and an all-day outing via jeepney to a watering spot. You'll
meet Awful Alex, “light of my life and bane of my existence.” You'll learn
how' Filipino boys are circumcised, and the author's own “hands-on”
research into pubescent development. Stories about conquests in bed can
soon become tiresome, but not as told by Richard. He writes with grace
and humor, often ending a piece with a clever little twist. (My favorite is
the naughty and hilarious “Cocktails Roman Style”.)
So let Richard be your guide to this fabled place.You'll be entertained
and informed, and along the way you'll meet many very charming boys.
Welcome to Paggers!


"Those the Gods wish to destroy, first they give too much money to." -- Manstuprator

An idyllic Boy Paradise destroyed by BoyLovers with too much money going wild...

M.
Such a shame, really...

DOWNLOADS:
https://www.greek-love.com/media/PDFs/Rawson.Richard.The%20PaggersPapers.pdf

AND:
https://annas-archive.org/search?q=The+Paggers+Papers


Manstuprator

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