the third sex

I set myself something of a record during the week. A ladyboy visitor was in the door and out again within 15 minutes, business all done to mutual satisfaction. Admittedly, I had been without company for a week or so, owing to various work pressures, and I was in desperate need. And judging by the rock-hard erection that popped out of my young visitor’s pants as soon as she arrived in my living room, she also had a reserve of energy built up and ready to let fly. But the sexual explosion that occurred left even me shaken by its intensity. She had been a little tiger. In a daze, I watched her wriggle back into her clothes. She was going off to a family event, and departed with a smile and a wave. I looked at the clock. It was 15 minutes since I had opened the door to let her in.

One of the reasons people become addicted to ladyboys is the intense sexual rush, the high-energy burst of sensuality. I’m talking about ladyboys who haven’t hobbled their instincts with too many female hormones, who are biologically male but have a natural female persona. When the mechanism is male, there is no desire to hold back, to be “female” about sexual action. The urge is as desperate as your own. Encounters tend to be brief and frantic. Small wonder that eventually, after a number of experiences with the better class of ladyboy, the idea of sex with a genetic girl can take second place in terms of importance.

What do you do after the act, however? It is going to be a while, a few hours maybe, before you are ready for the next session. Well, that depends largely on your companion. And your surroundings, of course. If you are staying in a house or apartment, or you have a hotel suite, then having a ladyboy about the place can be very agreeable. Inevitably she will gravitate towards the television, which is why you need plenty of space (unless you happen to enjoy Thai game shows and soap operas), and that will allow you to get on with whatever you want to do, such as read a book or fire up your laptop. Until you start eying up the bulge under your visitor’s panties.

I ask the question because in terms of relationships, actually spending a lot of time with a ladyboy poses difficulties. There is the language problem, of course, so any kind of meaningful conversation is possibly not going to happen. Then there is the fact that whereas a GG will, by her inherent nature, be inclined to be domestic and take care of you, tidy the place up, cook some food and so on, a ladyboy does not have that DNA. A friend who recently installed a ladyboy in his rented condo in Bangkok, assuming she would take care of the place while he spent time back home in the USA, wrote to me in anguish to say that the place had become a tip.  

“What do I do?” he asked. “It has become so bad that the landlord is complaining.”

I suggested that he use a maid service a couple of times during the week. But I have also seen a ladyboy’s ideas of domesticity up close, and I knew exactly what he meant. I once installed a ladyboy mistress in an apartment, and found myself doing the housework whenever I went to see her. She really did not seem to understand that dishes need washing, floors need sweeping, etc. She was extremely good at sex. But other than that, there was no female instinct. 

Then there is the fact that, when you enter into a ladyboy relationship, and if you let it become a deep one, you will probably be invited at some point to visit the family. Do you actually want to do this? Are you happy to go upcountry, be introduced to a large extended family who will examine you with curiosity, be followed around by the village urchins, and eventually dump a large amount of cash behind you as you depart? I’ve done it, and it’s not a comfortable sensation.

Back to my own situation. I’m not into the setting of records relating to the brevity of a ladyboy visit. I have a number of relationships that I genuinely value. On the other hand, many of those I invite back really are there for that intense sexual explosion, the kind of feelings that one had in adolescence, and that with maturity become increasingly rare. Then they are gone, until the next time, and I’m left with a sweet afterglow to get on with whatever it was I was doing before she arrived.

“What you think?” asked my ladyboy friend, hand on hip and turning her profile towards me. She had had a chin augmentation job done. Actually, it wasn’t bad. She looked fine. But many ladyboys who opt for cosmetic surgery make a sad mess of themselves. And some of the older ones look grotesque, because they fill their faces full of plastic when they are younger, and they don’t know when to stop. As they get older, parts of their face change: other parts don’t. Bangkok is renowned as one of the world centres for cosmetic surgery, and there are some fine surgeons here who will do a good job at a rate far below those charged in the West. But there are also a lot of slash-for-cash merchants about, and their rates are even lower, thus attracting the kind of clientele that has high hopes but not too much in the way of money.

Not that long ago a young ladyboy friend of mine who had a sweet and perfectly symmetrical face went for a chin job. Heaven knows why she did it: it wasn’t needed. She came out looking like Desperate Dan. It did nothing for her at all. Even worse was the ladyboy I knew some while back who had a chin job done that left her with a square chin that jutted down from her face in the shape of a short beard. And the one who wanted to make her face heart-shaped, and had a pointed chin added that was so badly done you could see where it joined up with her face.

Everyone wants a nose job, whether they need one or not. The people of Issan, who probably produce the greatest number of ladyboys, are rather self-concious about the ethnic characteristic of the squidgy little nose. There is very little bone or cartilage in the Issan nose, which tends to be flat. Women and ladyboys alike have nose jobs done, and it forms one of the staples of the cosmetic business. The routine surgery involves squeezing an off-the-shelf pre-formed plastic bridge up a nostril, with the result that a lot of Issan people are walking around with the same nose, so to speak.

So I see a lot of ladyboys who have had this operation done. Others who want a custom-built job will pay more money, of course, but some of the results I have seen have been frankly a disaster. Yo, who appears a few times on the main site, had the sweetest little feminine face. Then she had a nose job and a chin job that, in profile, made her look like Mr Punch.

Some ladyboys are simply never happy with their appearance. Anny, an early model, went through six noses. Somewhat alarmingly, she had one of them damaged in a minor accident just before she and I were about to leave for Pattaya. It had simply been a slight knock when she was larking about with a friend, but the transplant was dislodged and over the next 24 hours became very painful. We cut our visit short, and hurried back to Bangkok so that she could visit the clinic. I think that had been nose number five.

Another ladyboy friend, whose big eyes and clearly defined eyebrows gave her real beauty, managed to make a mess of herself by having cheekbone augmentation, which distorted the shape of her eyes. Just to finish the job off, she plucked her eyebrows. She just did not understand that she could have enhanced what she had, rather than change everything.

I won’t even get onto the subject of boobs, except to say that I have seen (and felt) some that are so hard that they stand out like water melons, and others where the sacs have been inserted so badly that the nipples point in different directions. I am still haunted by the memory of a ladyboy friend who turned up one day with only one breast. The other had started leaking, and the doctor had whipped it out. This was a ladyboy for whom I really had the hots, but on that afternoon I was struck impotent.

I could go on…the craze a few years back for vampire teeth…the startlingly blue contact lenses that occasionally confront me…lip collagen jobs that create a trout-like effect…adam’s apple reductions that leave the voice a hoarse whisper…it is all very unsexy.

Although I sometimes dress the models in clothes I have stored in the props cupboard, I really like to see what they themselves are wearing, and so in the majority of the picture sets you see on the main site the models are wearing the clothes in which they arrived.

This adds to the air of naturalness that I like to aim for, and it tends to bring out the character of the model. But also, I have to admit, I just like seeing what the girls wear. And although some turn up in jeans or other nondescript stuff, many do take the time and trouble to wear something sexy.

This is particularly the case with panties. I had a member email during the week, saying how much he enjoyed the sets in which the model is wearing cotton pants that show the curve of her bottom cheeks and the crack between them. Well, I have to admit that is a particular liking of mine also, and when I find a girl who is wearing the appropriate kind of knickers I spend a long time photographing them, tucking the material in so that everything is clearly outlined.

I also like panties that have humourous graphics or messages, and I try to make sure this shows up clearly before the pants come down. Best of all, though, are the filmy, semi-transparent pants that allow you to see bottoms and cocks through the material: pale bottom cheeks, a dark shadow of pubic hair and a bulging cock being so photogenic that sometimes it’s an anti-climax when the pants come down.

I had one model arrive recently who was wearing a tiny g-string. She had shaved off her pubes and tucked her cock in so well between her legs that she really did look like a genetic girl. But when she lowered the g-string and her dick swung out and proved to be extremely large and fat, I wondered how she had managed to keep it all in. What happens if you get horny, I asked.

“Hurt a little bit because everything get big but cannot move,” she replied. “But I only wear like this when go work bar. Customer like feel cock so not stay like this long time.”

The Thai cock, in repose, does tend to be small, and usually it tucks away without any problem. Time after time I see models arrive and when their pants come down, the dick looks disappointing, a little bud tucked away under the pubic hair. I sigh inwardly, thinking that I’m going to get an unexciting picture set, but when she begins to work on her dick, it blows up to an appreciable size. This applies even to the more heroically endowed girls. So wearing tight or confining pants seldom appears a problem.

Many girls do however wear a pair of tight shorts, like cycling shorts, over their knickers. These have the effect of smoothing out any unseemly bumps, and some tuck a little padding inside at their hips to give a little curvature there. So, I do get to see all types of underwear, as well as what is beneath. It’s an interesting life.

A member emailed a few days ago to say how much he had enjoyed the set of a certain model named A in gallery 26 on the main site. I had to go scrambling back through the galleries, because that was quite a while back, and I had forgotten the model. Seeing the pictures however brought the shoot back to me, because A was actually a boy. He had told me his parents and his college disapproved of ladyboys and so he was compelled to remain a male until he reached independence. Consequently, the young man before me had seemed an average type, trim build, quite good looking, just a smidgeon of makeup, but undeniably male. There had been no female aura.

I had done my best with the pictures. A had been wearing neat little cut-off shorts and white pants, so we got some good shots there. His cock had been fully active (no hormones, of course) and so we had reached the orgasmic part very quickly. So quickly, in fact, that he had shot a load while standing up, which had deprived me of the puddle-on-tummy shots that I like. 

Although I had a reasonable set of pictures, I had been unsure of posting them on the site. This is, after all, all about ladyboys rather than young men in makeup. But I went ahead, and eventually forgot about it. I never met A again, unfortunately, so I never knew how things turned out. The enormous, churning community of ladyboys in Bangkok makes keeping in touch very difficult.

I do remember how I felt during that shoot, however, and it has been the same whenever I have photographed other models who have been male rather than ladyboy. I had felt a kind of detached interest. Rather like a doctor, I suppose, asking someone to strip off and produce their willy to show me that it’s in working order. The intense excitement of photographing a ladyboy has not been there. Instead, there has been an academic interest, the interest of the photographer intent only on getting good shots.

I had at one time contemplated opening up a gay site, as a commercial venture rather than for my own interest. I shot several gay-type sets of pictures, but the only feeling I had was a mixture of curiousity and mild embarrassment. 

The reaction between model and photographer is very different when it is male-male, rather than male-ladyboy.

With the ladyboy model, I treat her exactly as if she was female. Opening doors, offering a glass of water, asking if she is comfortable, getting her to talk about her home and anything else that will make her feel relaxed. Complimenting her on her makeup, hair, clothes, anything that I think looks especially good. All the sessions are relaxed, and when the model finally leaves it is almost invariably with mutual friendliness. I don’t remember ever having one bad session.

With the young guys, the gay sets, the atmosphere has however always been completely different. I quite simply don’t have that interest. Beyond normal courtesy, I’m not particularly concerned about how he looks and feels. I tend to think he is probably as embarrassed about the whole thing as I am, and that we both want to get it over and done with quickly. I’m wary about touching, and always ask before I do so. As to the posing, it presents a few problems. The model often feels compelled to puff up his torso so that he looks beefcake. The elbows-and-knees up-the-bottom shots that I so like doing with ladyboys just don’t happen with guys. The wanking-off sequence has often been a bit of a disaster. Usually the model has not been gay, and I am not gay, and consequently there is no sexual frisson in the room. If a ladyboy has a problem getting off, I am ready to lend a helping hand, or whatever. With boys, that doesn’t happen. So I gave up the idea of a gay site. My heart simply wasn’t in it.

I’m perfectly happy taking pictures of youngsters in the transition phase from boy to ladyboy, such as the pictures that illustrate this entry. It’s simply that there is a turning point,  a point where the male vanishes and the ladyboy comes into being. I have watched and watched over the years,and tried to figure it out. How it happens, when it happens, why it happens. I still don’t know.

I have just returned from India, where I spent a couple of weeks travelling mainly on the back roads and staying in little local hotels. Early on during the trip I had arrived at a small town and checked into one of the smartest of the hotels, a tiny place designed mainly for travelling sales people, engineers and officials.

Small and local the hotel may have been, but it had a couple of uniformed bellboys. The one who took my bags to my room aroused my curiosity. In the lobby he had seemed an ordinary enough youth: late teens probably, average height, pleasant round face, slightly plump. It was only when he spoke to me in the room that I realised he was in fact a girl.

Or, at least, I am pretty sure he was a girl. The voice was undeniably girl-like, with none of the forced or husky quality that comes with a male attempting to talk like a female.  The hands also were feminine. There was no sign of a bust beneath the uniform, but the aura was feminine.

I realised that this very polite young person was a genuine transsexual, and I suddenly realised too how seldom it is that I actually meet one.

There is a great deal of difference in being genuinely transgendered and being a ladyboy. Seldom are Thai ladyboys suffering from a misalignment of genes and chromosomes. If they were, given the enormous numbers of them, I could only say that there is a serious genetic fault running through the Thai nation. The fact is that ladyboys make a specific choice, usually pre-adolesence, and they make their choice for a number of reasons.

So the beautiful, exotic ladyboy that so enthralls the likes of you and I is not a mistake of nature, she is the result of a lifestyle choice.

I do see a number of transgendered girls in Bangkok. Quite a few of them work in the bars as cashiers, and if you visit the Patpong go-go bars you will usually spot them showing customers to their seats or collecting money. I don’t know if any are available: I have never tried, mainly because they look like boys. I have also seen them working as messengers. I remember one publisher friend complaining bitterly that his transgendered messenger “boy” had run off with his female sales manager. I remember one working on the motorcycle taxi rank outside my office, and I have known a couple who drove taxi-meters. A few years back I knew one who drove a number 14 bus, which I used to catch at Siam Square, where I was then living. She was a demon driver, one of the most impressive Bangkok bus drivers I have ever seen.

I would very much like to have had a conversation with my bellboy/bellgirl, but apart from the fact her English appeared very limited it is of course not that easy. In fact she seemed very nervous of me, the only European face in the hotel. I had to check out the next morning and I didn’t see her again.