Hot Ladyboy Action

By : Roy Wilson
Views : 11371

I was woken up by the toilet. It gurgled and burped. Someone in a nearby flat taking a dead-of-night shower or, maybe, a bunch of people flushing their toilets simultaneously. Usually I keep sleeping through the effects of dodgy plumbing but this night was too hot and my sleep was probably shallow.

I sat on the edge of the bed with and looked through the window at the apartment building opposite mine. Lights were still on. At four in the morning people were still watching videos, having fights, eating, drinking, and smoking. One of the reasons I loved this town was that nobody seemed to care about time. Even people who worked in banks would sleep in the afternoon and stay up half the night.

Suddenly there was a sound of something crashing. I walked over to the balcony and saw a farang running across the courtyard between my building and the next. He was followed by the sound of screaming and then the beautiful ladyboy from the flat two floors above mine came running out screaming and running after him dressed in nothing more than a white towel. No way was she going to catch him but she was having a go and screaming for people to help her. At least I thought that was what she was screaming as it was too fast for me to catch. I don’t think anyone was going to help her though. In the general chain of disdain Thai ladyboys were even lower than farang.

I knew her. Well… I sort of knew her. I didn’t know her name. I just knew her in the way you kind of know your neighbours if you see them every day and live in an apartment block with a hundred flats. That is I knew her by sight. I knew her to say hello to but I didn’t know anything about her. I didn’t know if she was an addict. Half the people in the block seemed to be. The police were always raiding rooms for yaa baa. I didn’t know what kind of a person she was. I saw her often hanging around the lobby chatting to the operator. I saw her giving milk and fishes to the stray cats. I never saw her speaking to any of the other ladyboys in the building and, up until tonight, I’d never seen her with a guy.

The one thing I did know was that, as far as you get crushes on ladyboys when you’ve never actually gone with a ladyboy, I did have a bit of a crush on her. She didn’t wear loads of make up or camp it up like a drag queen. Most of the time she seemed to have a kind of dignity about her. That is when she wasn’t rushing out naked into the street. Her hair was straight and long and full. Her lips were classically full, she had a small scar like a knife scar on her forehead and when she looked at me she would hold her gaze a second longer than a woman would inviting something deep and dark in the pit of my soul to respond. I had sometimes fantasized, in absent minded moments, that if I ever went over to the dark side she would be the one to drag me there.

Of course there was no dignity now. Now she was transformed into a shrieking voiced ladyboy chasing after a cowardly client. Maybe someone who had been drawn to her beauty and sex appeal but who, once in her room, was caught up by a sense of heterosexual guilt. Seeing her running across the courtyard in this state took her into a different area. She was no longer the mysterious and attractive ladyboy from two floors up. Now she was just another crazy junkie whore without a shred of dignity.

The other tenants emerged from their rooms downstairs to get a piece of the action. Nobody who lives in a place like this needs to watch soap operas. There’s a more over the top piece of drama in every room left open to the hall.

The ladyboy came walking back looking broken pulling the towel up to cover herself. She wasn’t shrieking any more. Now she was just someone else who’d lost something. It occurred to me that the man hadn’t just been a runaway client. He’d stolen something from her. There are plenty of farang in Bangkok who are low enough to behave like this. Maybe she had some gold and he took it because he wanted money for drugs.

Amidst the gleaming chrome motorbikes and darting rat sized cockroaches Thais were milling about and talking about what had happened. I was three floors up and couldn’t hear what they were saying so I thought I might just wander down, casually of course, and find out what happened. I got dressed and went down in the lift trying to look more like someone who’d just come back from a late night out than one of the nosey Thais standing about in their pyjamas yapping about what had happened.

There was a broken plant pot on the ground and I asked the friendliest and most talkative of my neighbours what all the fuss was about. “Falang… Sadit…. Him want beating ladyboy when she come out the shower but she kick him ass.”

“Cool.”

“Not cool… She hurt a lot. Him break Buddha her mum giving her. She want police come but I know police not going to do anything for help her. Solly Roy but sometime I hate falang. Him don’t care anything.”

I asked her if anyone knew what he looked like or where he came from. and nobody knew. The ladyboy was back in her room now. Probably cleaning up. Probably getting dressed.

I started walking. I don’t know why I started walking. I guess I just didn’t want to go back and sit in my room while, at the same time, I felt uncomfortably representative of my uncivilised race. I walked around in the heat for a while. I sat at the mouth of the soi watching bike gangs storming up the avenue taking advantage of the relative emptiness of night-time roads. By the time I walked back the ladyboy was sitting in the operator’s booth. She was dressed in tight powder blue jeans and a white T-Shirt. Her hair was wet and she had a plaster a few inches from her mouth. She was telling the operator the story I guess. Both she and the operator looked up at me. I thought for a moment that I was going to be the indirect object of farang bashing but the ladyboy smiled at me. And it wasn’t just the empty Thai smile that gets flashed at every customer in tourist zone in the country. It was… I don’t really know how to say it… It was all compassion. It was the sort of smile that makes you feel, however cynical you might be, that there is hope for your life.

At that moment I fell in love with her.

My lift came and I tore my eyes away from her.

Back in my room I considered a coffee. I considered not going to sleep. I considered how weird I felt. But then I just lay back on my bed and sleep claimed me.

There was a knocking on my door. I got up and answered it. The ladyboy was there wearing nothing but the white towel. I let her in and she kissed me on the lips. She lay on my bed and suddenly we were both naked. I didn’t see what was between her legs. I didn’t see anything. I just held on to her and she told me that we could run away and nobody would be able to judge us. I didn’t want to be judged because this flat was now a classroom in my school. Without anything obviously happening we were both running down the school corridor from a bunch of kids with hate filled faces. But the thing was that because I was with her there was nothing terrible in this. It seemed right. The next thing I knew we were swimming in the sea and the ladyboy was a mermaid and I started thinking that this was getting too fucking far fetched.

When I woke up and there was still a knocking on the door. I wasn’t quite sure if I was out the dream yet or not. Blearily I walked toward the door and opened it. The operator was standing there telling me she had a message for me. I thought it might have been some urgent family call and asked her who the message was from. She shrugged saying almost teasingly that she didn’t know and handed me the folded over paper before walking away.

I opened it up and it simply had the word “Sofia” followed by the number “507”.

This was about an hour ago.

 

© Roy Wilson. All rights reserved by the author.


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Rating

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Comments / Feedback

Union Hill
June 23, 2008, 12:44

Don't do it, Roy. It's just a bloke in a dress and you'll hate yourself in the morning.
Marc Holt
June 25, 2008, 09:36

Roy, you sure do write some provocative stories. I loved the way this one ended leaving us up in the air. One of these days you are going to try the other side, aren't you? UH is a pure hetero, but there are plenty of shades of gray. Perhaps you are somewhere in that shaded area. Whatever, don't stop writing. It's always fun.
materialsman
June 26, 2008, 08:18

UH is pure hetero? I think if you look up heterosexual in the Oxford English Dictionary, it says simply, Union Hill. A true mans man, apart from the aberration of adopting the lost kitten of course!
Roy Wilson
June 27, 2008, 17:43

The bloke in a dress argument is very compelling. But it really isn't that simple... After all... The ladyboy in question wasn't wearing a dress... And I always hate myself in the morning anyway so that doesn't mean too much to me. The attraction and fascination with ladyboys has always been there for me. If you frame it in terms of liking men then the whole thing is ridiculous. There is nothing appealing about men. Not to me anyway. I enjoy the thrill of confusion that ladyboys arouse but put the average ladyboy next to a cute Thai girl and that ladyboy does become a man in a frock and the cute girl has you. No doubt. This is the tragedy for ladyboys who spend every hour of every day trying to be women when they are not.

However... For every five or six ladyboys who become men in frocks when standing next to the "real thing" there is that one who just isn't. That one who you may know to be a ladyboy but who stands out. Amongst the expats of Thailand it's almost politically incorrect to admit that ladyboys can be cute and beautiful and feminine. The only real objections are macho notions of total heterosexuality, religious notions of near bestial sin and the fact that having no womb they will give you no children and the real dirty truth is that the real reason we have these urges to screw around because we want to spread our genes far and wide.
Dana
June 27, 2008, 18:26

Well, I am only going to pee in this pool once because experience has taught me that it is a waste of time. To wit: it is called a Third Sex for a reason. I am too short for ladyboys but I am not too short for objectivity and kindness. If the ladyboy can 'pass', and many of them can; and she makes you smile: what is the problem? The owner of a well known bar in the NEP is married to a ladyboy and they are happy. Are we supposed to step in and take away their happiness? Absurd. And mean.

A ladyboy is only a guy in a dress? Sometimes. Not always. It is the exceptions that can make life interesting. I have come in contact trivially with some astonishing creatures of sex and sexuality and femininity and charm. Were they all women? Nope. Some were different. And in almost all cases they are better dancers and in some cases they are more interested in sex. Etc.

Painting all ladyboys with a broad brush is just as silly as painting any other segment of society with a broad brush. Makes you look silly. And sound systems. Untouchable. The ladyboy bars have the best sound systems, and the sexiest play lists, and the sexiest dancers. Period. They know how to sell it. The lazy farmer's daughters could learn something from the hardworking ladyboys about how to present and sell sex.
Roy Wilson
June 28, 2008, 21:54

Thanks for peeing in the pool Dana... With a pool this opaque the odd spot of clear urine can actually make things clearer.

Sexual identity is much more complicated than some may claim. There's a cliche that anyone who even thinks about ****ing a ladyboy is actually a gay man who is unable to come to terms with the fact. Ladyboys in this scenario are the gateway drug to homosexuality. I'm not going to say this is bull****. Better just to leave it on the table and let people make their own minds up. To my mind if I wanted to do gay stuff then I'd do gay stuff. No reason to pretend you're anything but what you are when you live in Bangkok. Men, however, just don't do it for me. Neither do men in frocks. I promise... I just question the notion that a ladyboy is necessarily that. But I do understand why men say stuff like this.

Here are some of the things that men say about ladyboys in Bangkok:

"She looks cute now but she doesn't look so cute when you wake up with her cock in your ass."

"You might think she's a woman but wait til you see her five o clock shadow."

"If you even think about screwing that I would be so disappointed in you."

"From far away they're okay but when they get up close and you see their big hands pushing into your trousers you realise how ****ing gay the whole thing is."

"I did one once but I was so drunk that I might have done my own mother."

"Don't risk it. There's the hormone pills that make them all crazy. The risk of AIDS. And they're all thieves. If you think some tart on blob is bad that's nothing to a ladyboy once she gets on one."

Most guys in Bangkok have an identity to protect and constantly guard this identity against any cracks of abnormality. This is fine. We are the most delicate sex. We have to maintain a particular pscyhological balance that we'd never expect of women. To some men not sleeping with ladyboys is such a clear cut thing that the suggestion it wouldn't really matter if they did is enough to evoke uncomfortable chuckles.

But it isn't a shaded area. There are those men in frocks who show their artistically designed breasts to anyone who'll look without realising that they give themselves away with their big faces and reedy voices. There are also those who require a closer look to even tell that they are ladyboys but who have certain mannerisms and habits that are so overblown and eccentric that they seem more like gay men than ordinary women. There are also those who are near perfect and who have perfect voices and well formed figures but who just can't quite get rid of that slight eyebrow ridge which some women do have but most don't. Then there is that category of ladyboys who it's very hard to think of as anything but women. It is this category (I think one in six is a fair rule of thumb but it may be less) that both Pachalee and Sofia fall into. These ladyboys often don't work anywhere near the bar scene. They work behind the counter in banks or shops or hotels or post offices. Sometimes they allude to their condition flirtatiously and sometimes they are eager to hide it. Some do work in the bar scene but they don't appear much in the ladyboy porn which internet browsers are so found of.

I admit that the whole subject and the confusion it raises fascinates me and draws me in. I have always tried to make friends of the ladyboys I've met while I've never thought of myself as a client or would-be lover except in a kind of fantasy scenario that played to the natural frisson brought on by anything taboo. Recently, however, I find myself coming closer to thinking of such a relationship realistically. Much more in relation to the personality of individuals than what they are as a concept. If you meet someone you like and you get close to them then it would be weird, unless starting a family was a priority, to have this as a major obstacle. If, on the other hand, you're looking for someone to **** in order to impress you're very heterosexual mates then you would have to draw the blinds to any attraction you felt towards even the most appealing transgender case.
Harry
June 29, 2008, 17:33

I like the ending: is he or isn't he going over to the dark side? Roy seems to be hovering. A passable ladyboy is never 'a guy in a dress', and I'm no expert in this field and, thank goodness, not a macho-man who would never admit that he would never be tempted. I have been tempted by the dark side and I don't regret it. Ladyboys can be fun in a way no 'true' woman can be, and it isn't just sex, they can be great company, too! If I were ever to marry (again), I wouldn't mind a sweet and sexy ladyboy.
H. Jacobs
June 30, 2008, 02:56

Roy Wilson's stories are great! What I really like is that the ladyboys are persons, and not just sex-objects. I like their beauty and femininity, and they love to be acknowledged as women and be treated as such. I don't know if they are on the dark side, but I would have to do some serious thinking if I had to choose between a 'regular' lady or a sweet ladyboy, even for a long-time commitment, because they made me smile a lot.
Union Hill
June 30, 2008, 16:18

Farang in bed with a ladyboy, "Is that a photo of your husband?"
Ladyboy, "No, that 's me. My real name's Nigel and I used to play on the wing for Wigan".

Fellas, this ain't a complicated subject.
Dana
June 30, 2008, 18:20

Union Hill in bed with a Thai lady, "Is that a photo of your sister?"

Thai Lady, "No, that's my girlfriend; she's a lesbian too."

Fellas, if life isn't complicated then you are not paying attention.
Roy Wilson
July 2, 2008, 18:17

Farang in bed with a Thai lady, "Is that a picture of your daughter?"

Thai Lady, "No, that's me twenty years ago when I was eight."

"Oh my God... What have I done?"

People change! Kids grow up. Fat women get thin. Thin women get fat. Single women turn into married woman. Married women turn into dragons. The young get old and the old get dead. If one of these equations is that players for Wigan turn into attractive ladyboys (not, in my opinion, the most plausible of scenarios) then all that this reminds us of is that people change.
Marc Holt
July 2, 2008, 21:45

I read a report recently that scientists have proved katoeys and/or gays actually have 'female' brains. They traced the emotion flow over the brains and compared them to how both sexes processed emotion. Gays definitely experience emotions like women. The difference is very noticeable. So they may be 'blokes in dresses', but in fact they really do experience life as women.

And let's not forget that each man on the planet started out as a female fetus. We only grew the dangly bits as we developed in the womb. Some men have a bit more feminine side to them than others. Artists, and probably writers too, are more prone to a more feminine appreciation of beauty.

The other thing I find fascinating is the endless variety of experiences available throughout the whole sexual spectrum. Don't limit yourself just because 'society' demands you conform to a certain image. I lived with a hermaphrodite once. That was an amazing experience. Both sets of equipment worked perfectly. Can you imagine the extended (sorry for the pun) fun we had?
Harry
July 3, 2008, 20:37

Girls, boys, Ladyboys, 'blokes in dresses': does it really matter? To each his own and if that means having a relationship and/or sex with someone with the same set of genitals, who cares if it makes you happy? If I could choose between straight and unhappy and queer (or whatever label people want to use) and happy, guess whice one I would choose? BTW, I haven't had my brains checked yet for feminine traits and I'm not a very emotional guy.
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