He 'teaches' you about the locals

Considering that he was a bartender here, you felt like you could trust him. There must be a reason why he was bringing you into that room. He must be looking for a quiet place for you to talk. It was odd, considering that you could hear just about anything the moment you enter the little corridor that led to the door, but the moment he ushered you inside, you understood. It was a much quieter place in here, seemingly what might be some kind of backstage lounge room. There were old chairs scattered about, a table in the center and several old bags in the corner. Funny thing was that this room did not look like the room before. It had concrete floors and a white paneled ceiling. The only lights in here were ceiling fluorescents. There were even some old windows at the far end with a dirty looking metal door. It seemed much less glamorous and fun in here.

Your curiosity was peaked as he turns to talk to you. First, he asks you if you were alright, which you happily responded that you had never been better. He followed up with some small talk, being incredibly friendly and relieved. He said that he was worried that you might be keeling over from the drink you had, which apparently was quiet strong. He asked you where you stayed, where you were from and who you came here with. Without much hesitation, you tell him everything you could remember, if a little haphazardly. The location of your hotel seemed a little fuzzy, and it took some prompting from him for you to figure it out. After a few minutes, he let out a small smirk, one that you paid no mind to. He asked if you came to Bali often. Again, you answer quickly and enthusiastically. You tell him that you had an interest in the nightlife and getting to know people from all over the world. It was all in good fun and you and your friends were having a great time.

He then asked if you had met many of the locals, and if you knew of their customs. Tried as you might, you had no clue how to answer those questions. It had never come to you to get to know the locals very well. You remember interacting with a few here, who were mostly just service staff, but not anywhere like the other white people you were drawn to. His tone turned somber, even a little disappointed, as he began to recount the history of the island, of which you have a lot of trouble retaining. All you seemed to focus on was his sad face in comparison to the sunny expression he wore just some moments ago. Concerned, you asked him if he was alright. He tells you he wasn't, as he was unhappy that the tourists who come here had no true respect for the local traditions. None of them wanted to know more about the real Bali, and they were only interested in partying and making the lives of the locals miserable. This peaked your interest even more, suddenly filled with a sense of pity for him, and you immediately assure him you were not like them. You tell him that you love Bali and wanted to learn everything about it, and you wanted above all else to make everyone you meet happy. His expression changed like lightning, back to his cheery self. You were convinced that you had touched a soft spot and brightened his day, feeling very proud of yourself. You ask him about the local traditions and what you could do.

He tells you several stories that you found hard to understand. Something about a water deity tending to the needs of fishermen, and something about the water deity taking the form of a beautiful woman. You were paying attention when he mentions that the woman was white skinned, turning in the seat he had made you sit on to give him your full interest. The white woman pleased the fishermen so much that they became very happy and prospered as they found new strength within them. She gave them what the locals seem to call 'pussy fucks', 'blowjobs', 'tit fucks', and other foreign terms that seemed so fascinating to hear about. He spends the next 10 minutes or so teaching you some of the local language, various parts of the island and the city itself. At the end of his lecture, he speaks in a mysterious voice about what the fishermen did to give back to the water deity. In their gratitude, they gave her their most precious gift, something called 'cum'. They gave it to her at the peak of their pleasure, spewing from their 'cocks', and she would take the 'cum' onto her skin, into her 'pussy' or swallow it whole, for it provided her sustenance, power and beauty, maintaining her physical form in the mortal realm. She would take as much of it as she could every night, thanking them for their offerings, before she returns home to the sea, returning again some other night to please the fishermen again. You were mesmerized by this magical story from start to finish, not caring about how absurd it seemed to sound. This hot, white liquid called 'cum'. It sounded so mystical and mysterious. He ended the story hinting that any of the white women who came to the island could uphold the water deity traditions, but none of them seemed interested. It became a lost tradition that the men on the island long to uphold.

You took this as a challenge. You were convinced that you fit the description as a kind of representation of this water deity. You willingly volunteered to take on the burden. It was selfish for the white women to only be interested in other things. The lost tradition seemed like such an important one to the local culture. It almost made you angry, but you decide to turn the other cheek on them. No sense trying to make them understand, since they were too stupid to even learn what you know now. You verbally declared to him that you would do everything in your power to see it through, sitting up hard in your seat with huff. He responded with a much wider grin, thanking you gladly. You do not think much about it at all, save for the thought that you were determined to happily engage with any local male for their 'cum', just like in the stories. Hearing your loud thinking, he warns you that the other selfish white women might become jealous if they found out what you promised to do. In a show of puffed out pride, you assure him that no one but the locals and yourself would know that you have taken on the mantle of the 'water deity', which he describes as the code word to alert any male local you speak to.

You spend more time learning more of the local language. Words like 'fuck', 'more', 'good', 'continue', 'finish', 'strip' and 'next'. Words that he thinks would useful on your new journey. He also teaches you some non verbal cues, such as a thing called 'flashing', which was basically showing either your tits or pussy to the local person when asked. After a while, you feel like you were ready to perform your sworn duty.