Sex in C Major

"You're not my first toy. Nor my first man. And I've never even gone out of my way to find those men. They're everywhere. Bloody hell, do you have some backward gender views."

Stefan bristled.

"No, shut up," Daz retorted. "Half the fetish scene is stuffed with dominatrices, you know. Women. Who specialise in subjugating men. There's entire porn websites dedicated to that shit. Do a Google search for BDSM in Leeds and the first twenty pages are mistresses. Not masters. Yes, some men like to fuck like pneumatic drills, and only do it one way, and that's their dick in someone else's body. But just as many men like to open their legs for a bit of drilling themselves. And you aren't the first trans man I've played with-you're not even the first pre-transition one."

Stefan frowned. "I'm-I'm not?"

"You think I'm naturally just super attuned to trans guys sounding off in bars? No. You started talking, I was sitting there thinking, hell, this could be "

He stopped.

"Be who?"

"Someone I used to know."

"What...happened to them?"

"They're gone," Daz said flatly. "Point is, they were like you then. Woman on the outside, peek through the keyhole and you'd swear I was straight, but where you couldn't see, all male. And that guy? He'd practically purr if I massaged his breasts."

"R-really?"

"Yeah. And after he changed, you know, after people would see him in the street and think he was a man instead of a woman, he still hung onto his collection of headscarves. He was Turkish, had bought them all in markets out there. And he kept them long after they'd look a bit weird around the beard. Didn't wear them anymore, but he kept them."

Stefan stared.

And-breathed.

Something unlocked in the middle of his chest. Daz had known someone else like that. Like him. Who had been a man, but still...still enjoyed something he'd had of being female.

"I hate looking at myself," he whispered. "I hate the way my body feels."

"But you don't hate the way I make it feel."

"No."

"That doesn't change who you are," Daz said quietly. "It can't. It's just nerve endings."

Stefan hugged himself, and stared blindly at the table.

"You're Stefan," Daz murmured. "You're a complicated, messy guy with a lot of history, some pretty extreme kinks, and a work in progress as far as your body is concerned. And there's tens of thousands of people just like you out there. You're not some kind of freak, you're just not commonplace. Big deal. I have a boyfriend who jumps a mile if I try for a cuddle at the kitchen counter, and he has one that has a collection of chains for human use. We're not exactly normal either."

Stefan cracked a faint smile, and took a shaky breath.

"What do you need?"

"To-to not think for a bit," Stefan mumbled.

"Mm, think you're right."

"Help me, Sir?"

"What, stop thinking?"

"Yes."

Daz leaned forward again, and ducked his head to peer at Stefan's face.

"I'm only going to set two boundaries today," he said softly. "I think you're going to need a lot of room for a long time to get your head around this. And I'm not sure you're a hundred percent aware of where your own stopping point is, when you're still tangling up what you do like with what you should like."

"O-okay."

"So, from now on, two rules."

"Okay."

"One, you always answer your phone when I call you. No matter where or when. Always."

"Yes, Sir."

"And two, you always come over when I tell you to."

"Yes, Sir."

"The only way you're allowed to break a rule is to safeword. What's your safeword?"

"Checkmate."

Daz nodded, leaned back, and glanced at the coffee shop door.

"I think you need to go to the furthest bathroom and wash your face."

Stefan swallowed, and his subdued cock began to stir.

"Yes, Sir." 11

It was almost a week before the phone rang.

Stefan had left the special mobile by the mattress in his flat, and had barely gone out, waiting for it to ring. He hadn't wanted to be out the way he had when Daz had called after Stefan had followed Yannis-although the trade-off had been a slowly mounting tension over the course of six days. Just waiting. Waiting for the next time he could go to the house. Wondering what would be different now Yannis openly knew. Wondering what Daz would do now Stefan had agreed to become...

More.

He was still crazy. Getting crazier. And Stefan knew-knew he was going to end up in some kind of awful, dangerous trap, but...

But God, waking up every night from dreams with his hands already in his boxers and orgasm inches away-and those dreams all consisting of the same thing? Of Daz with a new sex toy, and using it like an arrogant master with no concerns for what the toy wanted?

They were beyond arousing.