the third sex

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I couldn’t resist it.

I have just had out-of-town friends staying here in Bangkok. These are a lady in late middle age, and her 30-year-old daughter. Both thoroughly nice, respectable British people who know nothing much about Bangkok’s seamier side, never having been here before. I took them round some of the usual tourist places, and then a couple of evenings ago suggested a dinner in Patpong, a tour of the night market, and a couple of drinks at a music bar.

During our stroll through the night market, they glimpsed through open doorways some of the action going on in a couple of girlie go-go bars. During the visit to the music bar, they voiced an interest in a closer look at the go-go, so I took them into King’s Castle 1 and we sat down and they were gobsmacked at the beauty of the girls and at, as I carefully explained to them, the fact that any punter could take any of the girls he wanted. But they were far from horrified, and they enjoyed the visit.

As we sat there, I weighed up in my mind the likely consequences of what I planned to do next. Either they would be disgusted, or they would be intrigued. Either way, it would make a good story for them when they got back home.

So without any explanation beyond saying there was somewhere else I thought they should see, I took them across the way and into KC3, Patpong’s premier ladyboy bar. We sat down and ordered drinks. “What do you think of the girls in this place?” I asked casually.

The two ladies looked. “Beautiful, the same as in the other bar,” they said.

“Well,” I said, savouring the moment. “There isn’t a single girl here. These are all boys. Or, to be more precise, ladyboys.”

For a moment, I really was afraid they would topple off their bar stools, as they craned their heads upwards at the girls dancing on the little stage that is in the centre of the bar. There were about a dozen ladyboys dancing, with of course many more around the bar. The place was pretty full with customers. It was a good night in KC3.

“Goodness me!” they chorused. And from then on, the two ladies were utterly fascinated. It certainly is going to be a story they will be telling for a long time after they return to England.

But they were intrigued, and not at all put out by the experience. “How do you tell them apart from real girls?” they asked.

“That’s easy,” I replied. “The ladyboys are the most beautiful. The others are just girls.”

Of course, they never did find out my preference for ladyboys. I was afraid that some of the girls in KC3 might make it obvious that they knew me, as I have seen a good many of them with their pants down, but they behaved almost demurely. For a change.

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.I was doing a photoshoot of a ladyboy the other day and I could see she was wearing a long wig, but didn’t think much about it. She looked pretty good.

When I had finished, she went and sat in the lounge while I took some photos of her friend. After a while, I came out to see a young man sitting on the sofa. For a moment, the cropped hair and shorts threw me completely. But it was only the fact that my model had taken off her wig, and put her long dress into a bag and was back in civvy street.

She still looked something of a cross between boy and girl, as she was effeminate. But the appearance was undeniably male.

The smoke and mirrors that go into creating the illusion of a ladyboy are an art. Not all ladyboys can do it successfully. Some can flit between the two sexes with ease. Others are totally female except for one single attribute. The spectrum is a very wide one.

Learning female mannerisms is part of the art. I remember once watching a ladyboy who was learning how to sweep the floor the way a girl would do it, rather than a male. Little footsteps, knees together, a small whisking motion with the broom, even the correct facial expression – the differences are small, but also large in their total effect.

Some (many!) of course go too far in their striving for femininity. A few weeks ago I sat at one of the open-air bars on Patpong 2 and watched a tall ladyboy sashay her way down the strip. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and had long hair, and she vamped it the whole way, in the manner Eartha Kitt might have made a stage entrance. It took her ages to wiggle her way to the end of the street, where she turned right and headed for King’s Corner. So astonishing was her performance that all the GGs from the little beer bars came out and stood in the road, watching open-mouthed.

Of course, a real girl would never have walked down the street like that. But whatever…who’s talking about reality…

Then, of course, there is the matter of using the bathroom. Standing up or sitting down? A ladyboy making a serious attempt will demurely sit. Others, especially if no one is watching, might not make the effort. I remember watching ladyboy Dew taking a pee once. She was standing up. Why don’t you sit down, I asked.

“I can’t be bothered,” she replied.

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A couple of weeks ago I was driving along the main road in Phuket, the one that runs along the centre of the island, with a ladyboy friend beside me.

It was early afternoon, and we were off to do a photoshoot. I had met the girl on a couple of occasions before, and knew she was a bit of a tease. But even so, I was a bit surprised, as we were driving along, when she hitched up her skirt, wriggled her panties halfway down, and pulled out her cock. She had a good hard-on, and she laughed out loud at my reaction – very properly keeping my eyes on the road, yet desperate to see what she was doing.

She began to jerk off slowly, laughing as she did so. I was just about to tell her to go easy, as I didn’t want her to cum until I was taking the photos, when we ran into a police block.

This was at the junction where you turn to head over the mountains to the coastal resort of Patong. The police often hang around here because you get a lot of farangs riding on motorcycles or motorcycle taxis without wearing crash hats, and you also get some tourists driving hire cars without the proper documentation.

I was sure that my girl was going to be caught with her pants down, because the police had been almost invisible until we got up to where they were. In horror, I glanced sideways towards her as I wound down the window. The policeman’s face peered in. Yet all he saw was a farang with an attractive young girl who was sitting demurely gazing out the window. I handed over my licence and documentation. Everything was in order. The policeman saluted, grinned, and waved us on.

I looked over at my girl. “You managed to put that away fast,” I said, in great relief. She flicked up her skirt, carelessly. Her dick was lying there, flopped over the top of her knickers.

“Lucky didn’t have to get out of car,” she commented.

The funny thing was, the encounter must have shaken her more than she cared to admit, because it took her quite a while when we got to the hotel room to coax her dick back into life again.

A few days ago I was in Pattaya and I made arrangements to photograph a ladyboy. She was a tall and very leggy girl, and she turned up wearing a tiny white halter top that left her back almost completely bare, and a white microskirt so small you could see the top of her bum cleft and so short you could see her enormous dick bulging out of her green knickers.

I was staying in a posh beach resort hotel, and although I had taken a couple of ladyboys into my bungalow during my stay there they had been very demure and passed easily as very pretty girls. This one, who metaphorically had HAVE SEX WITH ME written all over her would, I felt, dent my credibility with the security guards and with the resort owners, who are friends. (more…)

Back in March I wrote about the often fine line between boy and ladyboy, and told the story of Bee, the ladyboy who went back to being a boy again. He had lost all the feminine allure that had made him (her!) such an attractive ladyboy, and had become just like any other young guy: a strutting, rather pushy one at that.

He had bombarded me with phone calls, offering his own services, but I’m seldom interested in boys and so I declined. He had also offered to bring ladyboy friends around for a photoshoot, but on the one occasion I agreed there was a dreadful row when he poached on the territory of one of my regular and trusted scouts, and so I didn’t do it again. Gradually, Bee faded into the background. (more…)