It felt like a sort of quiet night for a sex club. Lots of people I knew were there as it was a play party for the ftm (female to male transsexual) conference that had been going on all weekend. After the gender bent poetry slam show, queers of all kinds piled into cars and shuttles. It was one of those odd situations were the past collides with the present. I have layers of connections to the ftm community, generally I am connected by someone I am dating or fucking. Last time I went to a play party, I wore a vinyl nurse uniform and came equipped with lube and latex gloves. This time I go with a group of friends and wear jeans and a black dickies oil monkey shirt. I leave the gloves and the lube behind.
It can feel a bit odd to sip a coke and have a conversation with an acquaintance about how work is going and if the kids are ready to go back to school while ten feet away an ex lover is being flogged into submission, a current lovers ex is around the corner, blood dripping from his play-pierced chest, and my first top – in from out of town stands by and annoyingly keeps unzipping my shirt telling me to "loosen up girl, it's a sex party" but really I know he is unzipping to show off the tattoo that he placed on my body, all those years ago. We met almost a decade ago when I was a wet-behind-the-ears bright-eyed eighteen-year-old girl who went looking for her first ink. I wondered into a dirty tattoo shop and met the artist who would shortly expose me to my SM leanings and be my first daddy. These years later I push his hands away and zip myself back up, that little girl he once had is as faded as this old tattoo. He doesn’t know if he should scold me or give way to being charmed by my teenage style rebellion. I leave his side and as quickly as I do, the place by his side is taken up by his next fuck.
I sit down and soon eyeball a girl sitting curled on the couch across from me, almost in a fetal position peering over the back on the couch through mousy glasses. She is looking on while some tranny is helped into some complicated Japanese bondage. I get up and sit next to her and say nothing. She looks at me and asks if this is my first time here. "No" I smile, "Yours?" "Yes" she says "Today is my eighteenth birthday" an inappropriate smile crosses my face. She looks back to the bondage scene. She is a wet-behind-the-ears bright-eyed eighteen-year-old girl and I know I want to be her daddy.
Let me tell you were I went which is completely outside of what is acceptable at a play party. My imagination takes me past negotiations and safe words and leads me right to the scene. I move uncomfortably close to her without a word or change in breathe or expression. My hand goes over her mouth and I look her in the eyes and tell her to not speak and do as I say. I hold her hands behind her back and push her to the middle of the room where I position her – my rag doll. I undress her and tie her to the X. She is spread and shaking and vulnerable but not vulnerable enough yet. I shave her bare and leave her standing there before everyone. I tell her to think about everything I could do to her. Here she is so bare and trapped and no one here will save her, they all want to see the show. I leave her to ponder the possibilities while I go sit and have a long smoke, talk to some friends. I like to take my time. I come back to her and stand with my clothed body pressed against her soft nakedness. I say horrible things in her ear quietly and roughly that make her want to cry or get off. I spread her and roughly touch her. I ask her why she is making me do this and as she fumbles for words I lube up and stretch her open until she takes my fist. She has an urgency, an urgency that is so intense that she doesn’t know whether she should beg me to stop or never stop. I stop only to demand that she beg daddy for more. She cries and shakes and begs me to never stop. I push into her tight cunt until only restraints hold the weight of her body. She is somewhere else now. I hear her say it below her breathe almost experimentally “daddy” she whispers and I know she is close “What?” I taunt “Daddy please” she says louder “please what?” I say to her sternly “Daddy, please daddy fuck me harder” she says and just as I begin to move faster and harder inside her, her cunt holds tight onto my fist and she cums hard all over me. I let her have a moment before I pull out. With my wet hand I grab her throat long enough to scare her. I kiss her hard and thank her and release her. I bring her back to the couch and to her fetal position where I wrap her up in a blanket and bring her back.
Ok but then there was real-life. I am back on that couch with her, sitting there with my inappropriate smile and a decision to make. She is RIPE for the picking but I know what happens when you mess with those wet-behind-the-ears bright-eyed eighteen-year-old girls. You end up with an appendage. Lust gives way to logic and I cut our conversation short. When my friends ask where I have been (as if they didn’t notice) I tell them about the girl and how today is her “eighteenth birthday". They laugh and tell me to get back over there when suddenly she approaches. I smile and introduce her to my friends. She is sweet and a little awkward, I can tell she wants an invitation or praise. I tell her it was good to meet her and to “Go have fun tonight”. As soon as she is out of earshot, a friend coins her the little flower I just stomped on.
He has no idea what I just saved her from. </ljcut>