“Holy shit, I can’t believe a chick as sexy as you is actually a guy… damn, the ladyboy culture in Bangkok is insane!”
He looked stunned drunk, homy, and clueless. I smiled. He had no idea. I used to be him. Not that long ago, I was just another straight guy in my 30s, visiting Bangkok for a little fun before settling down back home with a boring, safe wife. I’d been with women gorgeous, exotic, unforgettable. But one night changed everything. I ended up with someone who looked like an absolute goddess-soft skin, perfect curves, flawless makeup. I didn’t even know she was a ladyboy. I was too turned on to care. We fucked. It was wild, intense, unreal. That was the first hook. I kept going back. Dating ladyboys became my obsession. Something about the taboo, the thrill, the mix of masculinity hidden beneath all that stunning femininity-it did things to me. Then one night, one of them a tall, dominant beauty with an eight-inch cock, asked me if she could be the top. I paused. But I said yes. She fucked me raw for the rest of the night. That was the second hook. After that, I couldn’t stop. I became a full-time bottom. I wanted it-I craved it. I let them take control, bend me over, fuck me hard. Again and again. And it didn’t stop there. They started dressing me up-lingerie, thigh-highs, heels. It felt humiliating at first… and then it felt amazing. I let go. I grew out my hair. I shaved everywhere. I started taking hormones. I got breast implants. My body changed. My mind changed. I became softer, more feminine more submissive. I wasn’t pretending anymore. Now I am one of them. Another sexy little plaything in this city that never sleeps, never judges, and never stops fucking. Bangkok didn’t just flip a switch-it rewired me. And now? I live for it. One cock at a time.
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