Part One:
Part Two:
Part Three:
Part Four:
I set my alarm early to catch the golden hour of photography and then spent the next four hours lying wide awake in bed, still on my home timezone, giving me a grand total of three hours sleep. The jetlag was horrendous but I filled up on coffee at the hotel bar and headed out just as the first rays of the sun were starting to shine over Bangkok.
Good god, this placed was depraved. Yesterday’s taxi ride from the airport to the hotel and the brief foray into the slums had only shown me a glimpse of the problem. I thought the streets would be quiet at this time but I was wrong. It made sense I guess - a lot of these clones were blended with feline DNA, with nocturnal instincts and sleeping patterns.
The brothels and swap-shops were all open and active. Bars with pounding music packed tight with catgirls grinding and sweating, while Thai police looked on from a distance, trying to judge the point at which the mass of flesh tipped over from a rave to a public orgy and needed dispersing. The bars were pheromones factories, the sweet smell of sweat pouring out of the massed bodies to hang like a miasma in the street.
Fights were common. The bodies were disposable so nobody particularly cared if they got damaged - it was like a video game. A lot of catgirls, very obviously containing male tourists, were just cruising for a no-holds-barred brawl.
As one of the few people there with a real body that I didn't want to get killed, there were times I had to hightail it out of there as shuffles broke out with fists, claws and glass bottles, blood and fur flying.
In the alleyways were the strays, the clones that nobody had any use for anymore. Even if they were animals, they looked civilised by comparison, even if they were mating in public view of the humans.
But I wasn’t there to judge. I was there to document.
“Do you mind if I take your photograph?” I asked to what I thought was a stray, speaking slow and gesturing with my camera.
“Sex tape?” she replied. "No worries, mate."
“What?”
“You want to film a porno, right?” she said, her accent strongly Australian, like a surfer bro. "How about you fuck me over that dumpster over there? Make it look good, yeah? Is this going on youtube?"
"No, I thought you were a... I didn't realise you were a tourist," I apologised hurriedly as she walked over to the dumpster, pulling down her khaki shorts to unveil her tight, pink pussy.
"Hol' up, my buddy will be totally into this. Hey, Gregg!" she screamed over at a tanned guy. "Get your ass over here and fill me up, alright?"
The young man shrugged, set down his beer and sauntered over, unbuckling his pants.
I sighed. Well... I am here to observe, not judge, I reminded myself, pressing record as he slid into her.