The Trial Run

I had been trying for a number of years to have my proposal for a talk at Blog Fest accepted.   And now, to my delight,  I had been invited to speak at SexBlogFest 2020 on the topic of Sex – The Transgender Experience. I had a lot of experience if this as you might imagine, and also plenty of things to say on the legal aspects, and how to get it all on the page in convincing prose. I knew this would be an interesting talk and I had another surprise: I had had the operation. My sex life was about to head off in new and exciting directions.
I got to the room in the Conference Centre early and set up my laptop, selected the Powerpoint presentation I had prepared, ran through my notes and waited. How many would come I wondered?  Anxiously I looked to see who was presenting in parallel with me.
“Good news Eve”.
I started. The conference organiser had walked in.  
“The other session is cancelled. At quite short notice actually.  So we’re all coming to see you and I am sure it will be fun.” 
She gave me a conspiratorial wink and left the room.
Soon delegates began drifting in from lunch and taking their seats. I smiled weakly at them. I was really beginning to feel nervous.  Then the double doors were opened and a bed was wheeled in. For the demo later I assumed. As the clock ticked round to two o’clock three burly security guards came in and stood by the door.
The organiser stood up and began to introduce me.   As she uttered the words
“I am sure we are all going to enjoy Eve’s transgender experiences. A warm round of applause please for the best sex show in town.”
Before I could pick up my notes to start speaking the security men rushed across, grabbed me took me down and bound me with ropes before dragging me roughly across to the bed to which I was secured with cuffs , by the arms and by both legs,  leaving me spread-eagled and helpless. A hood was placed over my head and I was plunged into darkness.
“Eve had just recently had the op. She now has a neo-vagina, a proper little trans fanny. Who wants to see what a trans fanny looks like?”
I felt cold metal against my thigh and heard my panties being cut and whipped off me. Hands pushed against the thighs to force my legs further apart and I felt cold lube around my new opening before fingers went in. 
“Well ladies and gentlemen this is a fine piece of surgical work, a tribute to the NHS, a marvel of modern medicine. Ladies and gentlemen, a warm round of applause for Eve’s c….,”
As the applause rippled round the room I felt more fingers go in, then the hand which balled into a fist.  In my excitement I so wanted to play with my new clit but I was fastened tight to the bed post. Even so I could feel the excitement and erotic tension mounting until she said, withdrawing slowly,
“And now let’s try out her clit”
I heard buzzing and let out a sigh as a vibrator was pushed against my clit, then pushed in harder as it was turned up a setting. Waves of pleasure rushed through me and brought me to orgasm, them to another and another until I had had enough and asked her to stop.
“Stop darling? You are joking? I am enjoying this far too much.”
She laughed and turned up the intensity again. the vibrator up a notch. I came again and this time the sensations that pulsed through me were too intense. I writhed and moaned pulling hard against the straps but they were solidly made and unyielding.
Again the fierce buzz landed on me and brought me to the edge until she removed it, just for a few seconds before plunging it down hard to make me orgasm with a painful intensity that made me scream. I began to cry. 
“Please stop it, please stop.”
I arched my back, rose up as far as the straps would allow, before sinking back  onto the mattress, panting and exhausted. She then announced brightly.
“I can confirm that this is a fuckable a pussy as any I have seen.  And we didn’t tell Eve this but we have had a little raffle and the winner gets to enjoy her.”
I said nothing. 
“Are you alright Eve? “
Again I remained silent.
“I think you will enjoy it too.”
There was a rustling of paper and then the announcement.
“On the yellow ticket, number 473.”
There was a whoop of triumph.
“Please don’t say who you are. We want to surprise Eve. Make her first time with a vagina special. Will it be a woman, will it be a man? Will she get cock ..or not?”
There were cheers as the winner undressed. I knew at once this was a man, the hair, the hard angularity of the body, the cock that was placed in my mouth. The man said nothing as he lay across me and I sucked greedily, licked as he moved the shaft smoothly in and out. He was not abnormally well endowed but he was soon hard. But I was not to swallow his come much as I would have liked that. He knelt up and I heard what seemed like a fumbling with a condom packet. He rolled the condom over his gorged member and he came down on me, a splash of lube and he was in, the first man to fuck me. 
It was quick and brutal, the kind of sex I had long fantasised about. Half a dozen violent thrusts and I came with a scream.
I woke up, hot and wet. I reached down and brought myself quickly to the orgasm that  had been eluding me for days. I showered and dressed. Outside Camden was bitterly cold. Flurries of snow whirled about in the cutting wind. The final day of BlogFest 2018 awaited. First, a cigarette and then breakfast, definitely in that order.
 
 

ESSENTIALISING BULLSHIT

I suppose the story of Tara Hudson is old news now that she is serving her sentence in a women’s prison.  I am not going to say anything on what she did or about whether a brief custodial sentence was appropriate although some might think that prisons are overcrowded enough and that sentences like this are ultimately pointless. Neither will I say anything about the idiotic decision to send her to a male prison simply because she hasn’t gone through the hassle and expense  of obtaining a gender recognition certificate when prison regulations already allow transgender prisoners without certificates to be considered on a case by case basis, and particularly where prisoners have already embarked on the process of physical transition.

No, I want to talk about something else. You see, I took it as read that people, or thinking people at any rate, would consider the decision to transfer Tara to a women’s prison to be the correct one. Then I stumbled across a discussion on Twitter. I should perhaps have realised that some radical feminists would have a problem with this, as they seem to believe that   trans women are men pretending to be women to access women only spaces. The argument was that violent men who transition remain violent and by their continuing to commit acts of violence prove that they are still really men. Which, in effect is saying that committing violence is a man thing.

Men are perpetrators, women, if they are involved at all, are victims.  On this analysis men and women are essentially and fundamentally different ab ovo .  This assigning of behavioural characteristics on the basis of biological sex seems however strangely at odds with the usual radical feminist  claim that transgenderism is damaging precisely because the aim of feminism is the abolition of gender roles which transgender people reaffirm by their very transition. It is not clear how you can consistently argue that gender is a social construct at the same time as holding that certain types of behaviour are inherently linked to the genitals you were born with.  Not for the first time radical feminism appears mired in contradiction.

This all reminds me of a discussion I had in the bar during my student days. One student, a self proclaimed anti-feminist Marxist expressed forcefully his view that much contemporary feminism was “essentialising bullshit.” Reading some of these rad fem tweets about Tara Hudson it was hard not to agree.