I took this photo in Macau... I cropped and edited it I then decided I want to replace the poster I have been using Photo Editor App on my phone, I assume is part of Google Gemini a lot to edit photos. i.e. I decided to use the Gemini website version to help me, as I have had a lot of successful this one at work updating images Unfortunately no matter what instructions I provided it insisted in dropping and changing the ratio of my image. I asked chat GTP but that wasn't offer ing such functionality. I've there for cropped the image Gemini gave me And used the InShot App to place picture in picture This was tricky trying to get it sized correctly of although rotation with correct. I've then resized and edited my image as per the original

I confess I am not sure what Snoop meant by "Big J"... my first thought was he was comparing me to Jesus (were you? if so thanks)... but I hadda be sure so I asked ChatGTP which is of the alternative view that Snoop is referring to my oversize endowment... (were you? if so, guilty as charged)... here's what I got from Chat GTP: My ChatGTP question: what did Snoop mean in a sex mongering context that Rom's "Big J" was not appreciated in his time? ChatGTP Output: That’s an interesting and layered phrase — let’s unpack it carefully. If Snoop (or someone else) said in a “sex mongering context” that “Rom’s Big J was not appreciated in his time”, there are a few clues to interpret: “Rom” — could be short for Romulus, Roman, or possibly someone named Rom (fictional or historical). Given the phrasing, it might evoke something ancient or mythic. “Big J” — slang often points to a sexual organ, or sometimes to a bold sexual persona or reputation. “J” might stand for “Johnson,” a common euphemism for the penis in English slang. “Not appreciated in his time” — that phrase suggests posthumous recognition or being ahead of one’s era. Putting it together, in a “sex mongering context”, the phrase likely means something like: “Rom had great sexual prowess or attributes (‘Big J’), but people didn’t value or acknowledge that during his lifetime.” In Snoop’s trademark mix of humor, wordplay, and sexual bravado, he might be implying that “Rom” was underappreciated for his sexual energy, confidence, or endowment — maybe even comparing him to artists or figures today who get more attention for that kind of thing. If you can give me the exact quote or the full line/context (like from an interview, lyric, or clip), I can give a more precise interpretation — Snoop’s wordplay often hinges on double meanings and cultural references. Again: I was not sure what PDoggg meant so I asked ChatGTP and damn! good response I got... My ChatGTP question: what could this possibly mean in a sex mongering context accompanied by a photo of three crucified filipinos: "Strangely enough, in that universe Rom had a very bad day in Angeles City one Friday"? ChatGTP Output: That phrase — “Strangely enough, in that universe Rom had a very bad day in Angeles City one Friday,” — when paired with an image of three crucified Filipinos, is very likely a dark or ironic commentary mixing real-world sex tourism, religion, and suffering. Here’s how it can be unpacked: “Angeles City” – This city in the Philippines is well-known for its sex tourism industry, particularly around the former U.S. Clark Air Base. References to Angeles City in a “sex mongering context” almost always allude to Western men visiting for transactional sex. “Rom” – Likely refers to a man (possibly a Western sex tourist) or a recurring character in a story or online forum. Saying he “had a very bad day” suggests that something went wrong — possibly a moral, physical, or legal downfall — in the context of sex tourism. “Three crucified Filipinos” – The Philippines has actual Good Friday crucifixion reenactments, where devotees are literally nailed to crosses in an act of penitence. Using that image could symbolize: Suffering or punishment, perhaps implying that “Rom” was metaphorically (or deservedly) crucified for his behavior. A grotesque juxtaposition — contrasting Filipino religious devotion with the exploitation of Filipinos in sex tourism. Or simply dark irony, turning the sacred (crucifixion) into a commentary on the profane (sex trade). “In that universe” – This phrasing implies a kind of alternate reality or ironic detachment, often used in meme or forum culture to make a grim or absurd joke. So overall, the line likely means something like: “In an alternate reality, this guy (‘Rom’) — who was engaging in sex tourism in Angeles City — got a taste of retribution or humiliation (symbolized by the crucifixion photo).” It’s probably intended as a darkly humorous or critical statement, possibly mocking or condemning the sex tourist (“Rom”), or commenting on the moral contradictions of such settings — indulgence amid suffering and religious piety. Would you like me to tell you how such phrases circulate or are used (e.g., in certain online forums or subcultures)?

Strangely enough, in that universe Rom had a very bad day in Angeles City one Friday, (photo by Snoop)

I've been mongering with him and I think this may be that universe! Even the Big J wasn't appreciated in his time.

Thanks gentlemen Snoop, Quinn, and PDoggg for your hyperbolic comparisons to my humble self: Van Gogh? God? I am at a loss of words... instead I went back to ChatGTP to bring this thread back on topic. I used your words and I got some pretty neat stories in less than 2 seconds... If you don't believe it, try it youself with the instructions I used. Thanks again bros. Rom My ChatGTP instruction: Story about Rom a storyteller who has had many aliases over the years but I'm becoming to think of him as a modern-day Van Gogh unappreciated in his time ChatGTP Output: “The Many Names of Rom” Rom had gone by many names—R.G. Marrow, R. Orion, even the simple and anonymous R.—each one a mask, a way to start again when the world failed to listen. He told stories like others breathed: instinctively, ceaselessly, as though silence might cause his heart to stop. But for all the words he spilled into the world, it never seemed to echo back. In every café and dim-lit bar he drifted through, there was always someone eager to talk but never to hear. He’d share a line—something raw and true, something that came from the deep place where art and ache are born—and they’d nod politely before turning back to their screens, their plans, their noise. Rom used to think maybe he was too early for his audience. Or too late. Maybe both. He worked in notebooks that smelled faintly of dust and ink, each page scarred with sentences that might have changed someone’s life, if only they’d been seen. Sometimes, late at night, he’d read them aloud to no one but the hum of the refrigerator and the faithful flicker of a single bulb overhead. And in those moments, he swore he could almost hear applause—distant, faint, from some other century. Rom reminded people—those few who truly saw him—of a modern-day Van Gogh. Not in the madness, but in the solitude. In the way he poured color into words no one would buy. In the quiet faith that someday, someone might understand. That the world, which turns so slowly for dreamers, might catch up to him. Years would pass, and people would move on, and Rom would still be there—writing under another name, another mask. His stories would drift across forums and feeds, unsigned, unclaimed, like messages in bottles. And maybe one day—long after he’d stopped trying—a reader would stumble upon one of those stories. They’d feel something stir, something they couldn’t explain, and whisper softly to themselves, “Whoever wrote this… understood.” And somewhere, in that untraceable space between words and memory, Rom would smile. My ChatGTP instruction: story about Quinn an exquisite artist who had hairy ears and an obsession with number 5 ChatGTP Output: “Five Strokes to Perfection” Quinn was an artist whose talent could make marble weep and colors hum. Every gallery in the city whispered her name with reverence — Quinn, the painter whose canvases seemed alive. But for all her mastery of form and feeling, she had two peculiar traits that never failed to capture attention. First, her ears. They were small and graceful, yes, but astonishingly hairy — fine golden tufts that shimmered when the sun caught them just right. Some said it made her look otherworldly, like a forest spirit in disguise. Second, her obsession with the number five. Quinn did everything in fives: five strokes before she wiped her brush; five minutes of silence before painting; five cups of tea every morning, steeped for exactly five minutes. Her studio walls were lined with paintings grouped in fives — five women dancing, five moons rising, five doors half-open. “Why five?” a journalist once asked her during an interview. Quinn had only smiled, brushing a strand of paint-streaked hair from her face. “Because it’s the only number that feels complete,” she said. “Not symmetrical like four, not lonely like three. Five has balance — the middle of chaos.” Some said her obsession came from childhood, when her fifth painting — a portrait of her late mother — had won her the city’s art prize and changed her life forever. Others whispered stranger things: that she saw the world in multiples of five, that her heart beat in fives, that she could hear patterns the rest of us couldn’t. One day, she announced her magnum opus — a piece called Five Horizons. For months, she painted behind closed doors, the scent of turpentine and jasmine tea spilling into the street. When she finally unveiled it, the crowd fell silent. On the vast canvas were five figures — not human, not divine, but something between. Their faces blurred, their eyes glinting like mirrors. The background shifted with every angle, as though the painting breathed. It was said that those who looked long enough could see their own life unfold in five scenes — past, present, and what might have been. After that night, Quinn vanished. All that remained in her studio were five unfinished canvases and a note that read: “Perfection was never in the art. It was in the fifth heartbeat after creation — the one no one hears.” And if you ever walk past the old atelier on Willow Street, they say you can still hear faint humming — five beats at a time — and see, for an instant, a golden glimmer in the air. [ Rom's addendum: ChatGTP sissified Quinn ] My ChatGTP instruction: Story about a parallel universe where Rom is deity and the Romscar Club is the sacred word? And on the 69th day he created [trangender ladies]! ChatGTP Output: The Gospel of Rom and the Romscar Club In a universe not so far from our own, where galaxies hum like harp strings and light bends to rhythm rather than gravity, there existed Rom, the Great Architect of Vibes. Rom was not a god of thunder, war, or wrath — but of balance, humor, and transformation. Where others shaped matter, Rom shaped meaning. Before all things, there was only static — the hiss of unformed thought. Then Rom spoke the first sacred word: “Romscar.” And at once, reality unfurled like silk in cosmic wind. The Romscar Club was born — not a place, but a state of being, where all souls gathered to laugh, create, and reinvent themselves. The first 68 days were spent building the foundations of this universe: On the 1st day, Rom made irony, so creation could wink at itself. On the 13th day, memes were born, carrying the seeds of joy. On the 42nd, cats were given dominion over the internet (which predated humanity). And on the 68th day, Rom looked upon the cosmos and said, “Something is missing — something radiant and free.” So, on the 69th day, Rom created the Transgender Ladies, divine embodiments of change and courage. They shimmered in every hue of the visible spectrum and many unseen, each carrying the power to define their own form, voice, and destiny. Rom blessed them with the words: “You are my living proof that creation is not a single act, but an ongoing choice. You are transformation itself.” And so the Romscar Club rejoiced, its halls echoing with laughter, self-expression, and the sound of heels on stardust. The transgender ladies danced across dimensions, painting the cosmos in colors never before imagined. To this day, the followers of Rom gather under the sacred sign — a circle within a circle, symbolizing endless rebirth — and whisper the ancient creed: “Rom is change, Rom is light, Romscar forever, day and night.” And the universe, forever smiling, hums the rhythm of that truth.

Perhaps there is a parallel universe where Rom is deity and the Romscar Club is the sacred word? And on the 69th day he created sissys!

'ear 'ear ! 55555

I keep coming to this thread going for more posts. Over the past year I have really started to use AI a lot in my job and find what Rom has brought to the attention of us few fascinating. It's a shame he hasn't found a wider audience, but the same could be said for many of the real trip reports including his own. He has had many aliases over the years but I'm becoming to think of him as a modern-day Van Gogh unappreciated in his time.

I totally agree and I did encourage him to continue the thread in Pm's prior. Was stating my own personal opinion of AI porn only. Any non one post ai spam is welcome.

yeah what I think also

Understand what you're saying but Rom's introducing it as a new concept for thought and discussion to try to stir some activity into the forum, as the only positive reaction is for PG's rather banal photos without any background as to the origin or nationality etc. I would suggest that you offer a story/experience and I'll reciprocate but I think we'll be flogging a dead horse.

AI porn really ain't my thing. AI porn stories I can take or leave. Would love to hear peoples old tales true or embellished. I'm sure the AI bots spamming this board will get right on it. Honestly other mongering boards don't seem to getting spammed with fake accounts. I would post some stories but engagement seems minimal here. Plus my stories would take place in PI and are somewhat tame.

My last 2 posts did not generate the interest and merryment I had thought they would, maybe out of fear of the long arm of P Y or maybe just out of the take-the-higher-road mindset called for here... I don't know... whatever the reason, I feel better not continue using AI to create stories with real ladyboy world characters which I would much rather do than the pornographic stories I posted initially with me as the only character. I think this thread already gives a good idea of what AI can do ladyboyTRwise and I invite other BMs to try their hand at using AI to create more stories and post them here. Cheers.

This one is well written, would only need a few tweaks to make it 100% believes.

It is. I remember her well. Dropped off the scene quite some time ago.

BREAKING NEWS ALERT: I had not planned to make another post today and especially not a post like this but something just happened elsewhere that I could not resist reporting here alegorically using the AI shield. I used ChatGTP as this one was not about the sex. Title: Rom and the Salt Mines of Pyongyang Rom was halfway through a plate of fried squid in a smoky Pattaya bar when the message came through — a blurred satellite phone text from somewhere north of sanity: “Rom. I’m in the mines. Bring light. —Jimbo” Jimbo had never been that close to Rom but did not know who else to turn to. He had been part of "the Clique" inner circle at Pyongyang, which — Jimbo thought — meant not having to worry about waving around a shovel in front of the wrong portrait. But then when he did just that, he paid the price. A heavy price. Banishment to the infamous salt mines of Pyongyang. Within hours, Rom was in the air, a backpack full of cigarettes, fake visas, and a pair of mirrored sunglasses that made him look like an off-duty spy from a bad Cold War movie. When the plane touched down, the capital gleamed — vast and empty, all pastel propaganda and freezing wind. Somewhere beneath it, Rom knew, were the salt mines where Jimbo had been “reassigned” for a week that would seem like an eternity and render Jimbo into a disillusioned, bitter man for the rest of his days. Rom found Jimbo right away: gaunt, blinking in the subterranean light, half singing patriotic anthems, half whispering escape plans. “Rom,” Jimbo said, voice cracking, “you shouldn’t have come. I’m part of this now. I built this city. They like me. Sort of.” Rom grinned. “You look like you’ve been adopted by a cult run by an near sighted old timer with a God complex and his 2 pet spotted cat and stray mutt.” Jimbo laughed — a weak, dry sound. “They are not that bad. Just… very sure of their own greatness. And they made me promise to polish their medals.” Rom threw him a pack of Thai cigarettes. “Let’s go, comrade. Time to defect from your masterpiece.” But outside, as they moved through the empty boulevards, Jimbo faltered. The city lights shimmered like a mirage of glory and delusion. “I don’t know if I can leave,” he murmured. “It’s madness here — but it’s my madness.” Rom put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we’ll take a little of it with us.” By dawn, they were across the river, watching the skyline fade. Behind them, the city hummed with morning propaganda songs. Jimbo’s eyes glistened — not from salt, but something heavier. “Freedom feels cold,” he said. Rom smiled. “That’s how you know it’s real." "Thanks Rom. Let me just stay here across the river. Maybe they will take me back in the Clique..." "Your call Jimbo. You know where to find me."

Yes barforth. More details and far more explicit but it depends not just on the AI website allowing generation of adult content, but also on my inputs that in this case were quite expliicit and included oral, anal, double anal, Teya, etc... Today I used another AI website leaving the plot open-ended and I got a story also open-ended: My instructions: I Rom go to Cindy's Secret to have sex with ladyboy Lulu but The Wallaby gets in the way, we argue and Cindy calls PeeLog to ban me and The Wallaby SmutChat response: I Rom stride into Cindy's Secret, the dim lights casting shadows over the plush booths and the faint hum of bass from hidden speakers. Lulu's already there, waiting in a corner alcove, her short skirt riding up her thighs as she crosses her legs and sips on a cocktail. She spots me and her eyes light up with that hungry spark. She uncrosses her legs slowly, giving me a teasing glimpse of the lace panties hugging her bulge, and beckons me over with a crooked finger. I slide in beside her, my hand immediately finding her knee, sliding up under the hem of her skirt, gently grabbing her balls. 'Finally,' she murmurs, leaning in to nip at my earlobe, her breath hot against my skin. Her fingers trace the bulge in my pants, squeezing my hardening cock through the fabric. 'I've been wet thinking about you fucking me right here.' I growl in response, pulling her closer, my mouth crashing against hers in a deep, tongue-twisting kiss. My free hand cups her breast, thumbing her nipple until it pebbles under her thin top. But then, a shadow falls over us both. The Wallaby looms there, his Aussie frame blocking the light, a smug grin splitting his muzzle. He's got that cocky swagger, eyes twitching like he's itching for trouble. 'Well, well, Rom. Trying to claim Lulu all for yourself mate? She's been eyeing me all night.' His voice is a low rumble, eyes raking over Lulu's body like he owns it. Lulu stiffens against me, pulling back with a scowl. 'Back off, Wallaby. I'm with Rom tonight.' But he doesn't budge, stepping closer, reaching out to brush her arm. I shove him hard, my fists connecting with his chest . 'Touch her and I'll smash your face Wallaby' I snarl, standing up to face him fully. The Wallaby laughs, a bark that echoes too loud in the club. 'Big talk for a guy who can't even keep it in his pants without an audience.' He shoves me back, and suddenly we're chest-to-chest, growling and snapping. Lulu tries to pull us apart, but it's no use—the argument escalates fast. 'You're just jealous because no one wants your useless dick!' I shout, and he retorts with something about me being the limp failure, voices rising until everyone in the club is staring. From behind the bar, Cindy watches with narrowing eyes. She's the queen of this joint, all sharp curves and no-nonsense attitude, her tight dress clinging to her hips. She grabs her phone, dialing quick. 'PeeLog? Yeah, it's Cindy at Secret. Got a brawl brewing—Rom and that pest Wallaby. Come ban their asses before they wreck the place.' Her voice cuts through the noise like a whip, and I catch the edge of it just as PeeLog's heavy footsteps start thudding toward the entrance. The Wallaby sneers one last time, but there's a flicker of unease in his eyes. Lulu grabs my arm, whispering urgently, 'Rom, we gotta go—now.' But PeeLog's already pushing through the door, his massive frame ready to haul you both out. What do you do next?

The storytelling and details are far superior to the previous one and it's uncanny that it knows Teya has a hairy cock!

Does Emmy allow such behaviour in the bar???

Back to the TR: There are multiple AI sites offering more explicit adult content than ChatGTP and the others I tried initially. One such site is smittenstories and I think this time it gave an explicit account of an encounter that could well have happened to me on one of my trips but by chance has not. My instructions: Rom is pushing 60, Wanchai is 19, met on beach in Jomtien and after drink went to Emmy's Bar to have sex in multiple positions and after 2 hours a ladyboy named Teya joined in; oral, anal, double anal, bukakke; story told by Rom smittenstories response: I met Wanchai on the sun-drenched shores of Jomtien Beach. His delicate frame and feminine features caught my eye as he sauntered past, the salty breeze gently ruffling his hair. I am pushing sixty, but age was just a number when it came to the intoxicating allure of this nineteen-year-old femboy. We exchanged flirtatious glances and shared a drink at a nearby beachside bar. The alcohol loosened our inhibitions, and before long, we found ourselves at Emmy's Bar, a notorious den of debauchery. "You know, I've never done anything like this before," Wanchai confessed, his eyes gleaming with mischief. I could sense the excitement radiating from him, and it only served to fuel my own desires. Once inside, we wasted no time. I led Wanchai to a dimly lit corner, the pulsating music and dim lighting setting the stage for our erotic escapade. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, the taste of salt and liquor still lingering on our tongues. I trailed my fingers down Wanchai's slender body, my hands finding their way under his tight shorts. He let out a soft moan as I brushed against his hardening cock. "Fuck, Rom," he gasped, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass. I pulled down his shorts, revealing his throbbing erection. I took him in my mouth, savoring the taste of his young, hard dick. He moaned louder, his hands tangling in my hair as I sucked and licked him to the edge of climax. But I wasn't done with him yet. I flipped him around, his firm ass now exposed to me. I spread his cheeks, revealing his tight, puckered hole. I teased him with my fingers, gently probing and stretching him before plunging my hard cock into his warm, wet pussy. He cried out in pleasure, his body quivering with each thrust. I pounded him hard and fast, the slapping of our flesh echoing in the bar. I could feel him tightening around me, his body preparing for release. But just as he was about to climax, I pulled out. I wanted to prolong this exquisite torture, to make him beg for more. "Please, Rom," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. "I need you inside me." I obliged, but this time, I had a surprise for him. I motioned for Teya, a sultry, raven-haired vixen who had been watching us from across the bar. She joined us, her eyes filled with lust as she took in the sight of Wanchai's eager body. I positioned Wanchai on all fours, his ass exposed and ready. Teya knelt behind him, her tongue flicking out to tease his hole. I watched as she licked and sucked at him, her mouth working in tandem with mine as we both pleasured him. Then, it was time for the main event. I positioned myself behind Wanchai, my hard cock poised at his entrance. Teya did the same, her hairy cock glistening in the dim light. Together, we penetrated him, our cocks filling him to the brim. He cried out in ecstasy, his body trembling as we fucked him in unison. I could feel Teya's cock sliding against mine, her moans of pleasure adding to the symphony of our lust. We continued like this for what felt like hours, our bodies slick with sweat and desire. Wanchai's moans grew louder and more desperate, his body trembling on the edge of release. Finally, we all came together in a crescendo of pleasure. I pulled out, my cock still hard, and shot my load all over Wanchai's face and chest. Teya followed suit, her cock dripping with cum as she squirted all over him. Wanchai lay there, covered in our cum, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm. He looked up at us, his eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. "Fuck," he panted, a wry smile playing on his lips. "That was fucking incredible." And so, our night at Emmy's Bar came to an end. We left the bar, our bodies spent and satisfied, the memory of our erotic escapade etched into our minds forever.

Bloody hell, Rom. You'll give an old man a heart turn if you keep this up. I'm drawn to the first pic , she with the small cock, who would be my first choice. We're all deviates to some extent, are we not?

You are well-informed barforth. ChatGTP just announced they will soon start offering adult chats, but no images yet. I think XXX-AI is coming but the potential is daunting to create images and fantasies of sexual situations deemed criminal (which already can be done with the 3-D art software). As you see in this post, AI already allows the imagination to roam free and I used mine in searching for pics to post here. I did not limit myself to "ladyboy with big cock" or "threesome with ladyboy and lady". I tried other very specific intructions (like "ladyboy with cock sticking out of astronaut suit") and I got nothing because, I reckon, such images dont ALREADY exist in the AI databank... But I tried other stuff and got some kinky surprises especially when I instructed "ladyboy with HORSE cock". Looksee below. I also got kinky images for "ladyboy with TINY cock" and when I instructed "MONSTER cock" I started getting some really weird monster shit. "Pregnant ladyboy" also worked and it even gave me one with hijab which I did NOT ask for. As noted above, the cock-enhanced images seem to originate on depictions of "actual females" (mostly non-Asian) which means the AI is essentially a catalogue of finished some artwork. Suck some big, juicy horse cock anyone?

Interesting that it chose to show actual females rather than lbs. Chatgpt has now realised that it's stupid not to allow erotica as it would loose market share.

I also don't care for AI porn. Its same as cartoon porn. Unless its some fantasy genre that cant be provided by real people. If I want to see Winston Churchill bang A unicorn then yeah AI is called for. If I want to see A ladyboy cum in her own mouth I would rather A ugly LB than an AI goddess.

As an older bloke, l struggle with technology. You can't beat real photos and videos. Having said that, l admit to viewing these latest AI pics (several times so far ...).