tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersSydd~The Dare Ch. 01

Sydd~The Dare Ch. 01

bysydian©

When the door opened, the white fur slid from her shoulders and she was absolutely naked....

It all started as a dare.... And Sydian, 'Mistress of the Calculated Risk,' thought it one dare too good to pass up.... Some friends, a few wmn like herself: secure, independent, quite professional—you've met them: Avia, Nika, Golden; some sisters of the vaginal-type; and some brothers, were planning a 'bachelor'/ 'bachelorette' party.... Hmmmmm...a little difficult to wrap your head around, huh? Well, they do exist—let me use that word again—some 'secure' individuals whose sexuality doesn't frighten them, their friends, or their spouses—same gender or not.... bi friends—male and female—were getting married—openly bi, not 'dl'—Sydd and her buds didn't have much time for those types—they didn't dislike them—in fact there was empathy and sympathy—they simply observed all the energy that was drained from the need to skulk rather than walk upright through this life....

In any case, Terrence was secure and announced in his bi-ness, and Cary, his intended, was in hers....they were quite a couple.... And they shared....

Cary—'Rye' to those who love her, was literally a piece of work—'a piece of work'.... 'Rye' not because of her choice of drink—though she was far more potent; 'Rye,' possibly because of that wicked sense of humor; 'Rye,' maybe because of that raucous North African music she bumped and ground to.... 'Wry Rye,' in any case.... Rye who placed her confidence in Sydd, and even trusted her with her men, women, and wmn....Sydd and Rye, like sisters...though the two would have been kicked out of any self-respecting family for their antics—sexual and otherwise....

So, there they were when the door opened....a full house, Rye, Terrence 'Afar' ('Terrence the African,' they teased him), and all the usual suspects....who would have never missed this joyous evening—their joy—and then again, the promised 'entertainment'....

Sydd had sent the music ahead...a grl couldn't just dance to anything.... This Sydd knew from experience. She had danced her way through college, grad, and law schools...at a time when the only 'legitimate' work wmn like her could get meant shaking ass—and lots of it (not that Sydd had a lot, but the athlete in her served her well....) So, in those days, it was either shaking ass or selling ass—a distinction not easily made, and Sydd was the first to admit to the one or two favors she might have sold.... Now, on occasion—rare, rare occasion—Sydd would venture to an after-hours spot; usually with Avia, and see if a fifty-something could still move it....the bills stuffed in her garter attested to more than just charity.... She caused many of the younger wmn to stop and stare....some with not a little bit of jealousy: 'What's that old bitch got?!'....someone—on occasion, Avia, though, not always—would give the answer: 'Something you don't. But... if you shut up... and observe... you might learn. If not... ask her... and she might SELL you some....' That usually led to silence...and observation....

***

Sydd could still remember...not just the first time she danced...but the first time it was discovered that she had a 'little something extra'—actually, a great deal of something extra....

He was cute enough.... That was his major problem.... He had possibly heard it so many times that it influenced every misogynistic impulse he had—at best, the feminine was meat to be handled and abused....When he entered, Sydd retreated to the furthest corner of the dance space...she was not certain if it was fear that drove her or not....

Now, the record should be set straight.... Our Sydd is the fearless type...but here, the fear had two dimensions: first, Sydd was afraid of being 'exposed'.... Yep, in a sense, our grl was on the 'dl' here....everyone assumed—in spite of that short, nappi, blond head...that she was the real thing—even the other dancers; though there was some talk of how cut she was, and the deep, smoky jazz of her voice....in those days, she tucked, and tucked well....

Second, she was afraid of what she would do if he so much as spoke to her...in the wrong way...let alone, touched her.... She had, though few knew, spent her time in an official war-zone; she was an ex-combatant....she was also a very serious student of a couple of martial arts...the grace of these two was that they counseled discipline....

She watched him warily from the moment he entered.... He handled the other girls...they were his property....he groped, pinched, prodded, inserted, sometimes even bit....very few protested...the simpler 'bitches'—a term of varied meanings and nuances, but you get it here—even swooned and returned for more.... These even hovered round to talk about 'what a man he was'.... Sydd, from a distance, simply watched....

He watched too.... When she mounted the stage, he left his table and took a seat along the stage-rail.... He muscled his way in displacing a few other regulars—eliciting his share of grumbles and curses—under breath...he had a 'reputation'....

When Sydd took the stage, the whole room seem to surge forward.... Years later, she figured it out: it was the exoticism. She was more 'boyish' then than could ever be imagined now. The breasts were budding...well, maybe even more than that...the body was slim and tight—just as it is to this day—the ass, though not big by today's standards, was shaped and firm—and it could 'talk'....the legs belonged both to a sprinter and a long-distance runner....in stilettos, from the toes to the juncture of her thighs, they seemed to go on forever....Yeh, it was the suspected 'sissy' that really turned all of these men on...but how could they know that then? Not even she did....

***

She started her set. She loved the jazzy stuff, the hard African beats, and the Latin riffs that forced her ass to move almost involuntarily.... Beats that put swivel in her hips where she thought it unimaginable.... Her favorites were those combinations that came in slow grinds that allowed her to literally hump air.... On stage her partners were there, she/he/they were simply invisible....

Her routine worked. Night after night, the stage was papered with dollar bills—literally carpeted by the time she came down.... Ones, fives, tens....an occasional twenty....once or twice, a fifty.... Sometimes she had to pay attention to who threw what.... Some of the men in the audience had little or no business 'throwing money away'....discretely after the set, on the pretense of a hug, she'd stuff a bill or two back into a shirt-pocket...or if she felt bolder, elsewhere....

***

She could make out his voice above all the others....where they encouraged and cajoled; where they made light banter and caused her to smile....his words, slurred and hot and heavy with alcohol were abusive and vulgar: 'she's a nasty lil bitch'.... 'I got som'thin' for that tight lil ass to dance on...' 'cum on over here, ho....cum get Daddi's cock....'

But, what should she have expected? She was a dancer. She was literally using her body to excite men...and women—yeh, they came in too.... It was a place that promoted the sexual and the vulgar.... And she was at the center of that promotion....

With his every word, she danced further away from him....giving her attention to the others in the room, and flaunting that tight, sexy body at him....teasing...no tormenting, him with the prospect of what he could never have....would never have....

Every twist of the hip...each pelvic thrust...bump and grind...pout of those delicious lips....made his cock and rage rise.... Even at the tender age—early/mid twenties—Sydd knew what she was doing—she knew how to control: herself; her sexuality; and, them....

Last song in the set.... She spun; back to the audience....grabbing the pole down way low....she arched her back, spread her taloned legs and let that ass dance in tight hot circles....she just let the music take her away....

She heard the groans and moans in the crowd....she could imagine the hands being thrust furtively into damp pockets, secretly clutching aching, swollen meat....she knew she was the cause....but in this moment, she was oblivious....the music—her dance—had sexually transported her above all this.... She had—as she did every set—worked herself into a sexually frenzy....a cool, subdued sexual heat....she was cumming on that stage—she did every night—everyone knew....this was their reason for catching her sets—for crowding close.... But she did it with such incredible reserve...such poise...such control...that it WAS a spectacle...but one hardly to be believed....

So, she hadn't noticed him pushing his way round stage.... She was totally off guard when the big, hot ham of a hand slapped her ass, grabbed it, and then ripped her thong away....

With that one motion, time seemed to stop....

The crowd seemed to freeze, except for the choking gasp that came from it.... 10+ inches of hard cock, in the act of cumming swung violently from where it had been securely tucked between the cheeks of her ass forward—away from the crowd—spraying creamy sap from her thighs to the bank of wall-high mirrors that framed the stage....

Another gasp.... moans (ecstatic!)....and then a howl that froze the room again....

Sydd's....

***

The legs crossed with uncanny exactness as she went into the spin....it was a dance move, but one like few in this audience had ever seen—capoeira and wushu in its art....Sydd's head snapped round with focused precision—the defensive need to locate her violator as quickly as possible....

His shock at being confronted eye to eye with over ten inches of cock didn't keep him from blurting out 'YOU SISSY-BITCH! YOOOOOOU FUCKIN' FAGGOT!'

Too late.... In the wushu, Sydd was 'bent and flexed like the bow'...and when her hand found his windpipe, it was with the power of 'a thundering wave'....she leveraged herself and raised him from the crowd by his throat....

In the same motion....she rolled to her back, scissored her booted legs and went into a nutcracker as she hoisted and flipped his 210 pounds over her head....the stage rocked with the impact of the crash as she came to rest on his chest....

***

All Sydd could manage was 'How dare you! How dare you!! How fuckin', damn dare you!'

He wheezed, 'GET OFF ME, YOU LIL FUCKIN' FAGGOT....'

The rage rose in Sydd's face.... 'I'll get off you alright....I'll get off you.... But you fucked up a particularly important moment here, Fucker....'

Ironically, Sydd wasn't referencing the fact that she'd been exposed.... She was referencing that she'd been exposed in the act of cumming—more precisely, BEFORE SHE HAD FINISHED cumming....

He tried to push her off...throw her off....but she was surprisingly stronger than she looked and she knew how to leverage her weight....quicker than he could ever move, she pinned his biceps beneath her knees and bore down with all 130 lbs....even for a 210 pounder, the pain could be excruciating....the result, immobilizing.... His pain was audible....

Sydd's move had also placed her big cock on his chin....

***

'Yeh...I'll get off you, alright, Mutha-fucka,' Sydd glared.... 'But first, You're gonna get ME off!'.... She could feel the power swelling in her dick as the last of her words spilled from her mouth....what had been resting on his chin, now began a slow, steady climb up his bottom lip....

She pinched his nostrils closed and leaned forward close enough for him catch every exotic scent of her in spite of it.... She hissed softly into his ear: 'If you so much as THINK about biting me, you'll leave here not only being unable to hear....' She slapped his ear-hole with her open palm; then reaching behind her, she stretched and found his nuts and squeezed.... 'You'll leave dickless, as well....'

***

For good measure, she twisted hard....harder....that, with the nose pinching had the desired effect: pain and suffocation made him gasp for air....and just like that, Sydd made him gag....

She wasn't quite able to push all that cock down his throat, but she managed enough to make her point....her strokes were deliberate....there was no confusing her motions for acts of kindness—they were not.... as she bore down with her kneecaps into the flesh of his biceps, she was afforded the angle she needed to ride his throat....and he was powerless....

And she.... She was powerful.... As close to being all-powerful as she ever would come.... As close to being all-powerful as she would ever want to come—she knew this after years of reflection.... The power in her—the lust of domination—compelled her to seize his ears....she used them to force her way deeper into and down his gullet.... They were the points of control...the reins by which she directed his hot, slimy mouth to do her bidding.... They were symbolic of the fact that she—at this moment—'reigned' over him....

In the moments alone after this act, she was embarrassed—ashamed—that she could treat another human being this way, in spite of the unanimity of the crowd that he deserved it.... But in this moment of anger—for the last time in her life—Sydd's rage took control....

She pumped his mouth as if she were pumping good pussy or ass.... Only with an abandon that seemed manic....precum and spit backed up through the corners of his mouth....her cock wore a rich, thick, slick white coat....the product of his gag reflex....

O, it felt good to her....so damn good.... Even better when she realized he was moaning too....

She reached behind her once more.... With no difficulty she found his thick, hard member....skull-fucking had excited the boi—he was getting off on all that big, pretty cock being stuffed down his throat....

She leaned into his mouth again....arced her body so that she could bring her lips within earshot: 'You sorry, little hating bastard....you probably leave here every night looking for cock to suck....YOU love sucking cock and everyone in the bar can see it!'

The thought...and then giving voice to it—that he loved sucking cock; and everyone in this room he had ever threatened, bullied, molested, could see it—sent Sydd over the edge.... She bellowed—roared—as she bottomed in his throat and hot, hot cum jetted against the back of his mouth....there was the sound of his choking, retching, gagging over her eruption....then she pulled away from him, her dick popping free of his mouth, its momentum slapping him....

She gripped him hard from beneath his chin....thumb and forefinger digging into each cheek....and kissed him deep and forcefully....at that moment, she learned never to waste what was hers—what had come from her.... Then.... she slapped him hard across the face....

'Don't you ever fuck with me.... Or anyone else in here, for that matter....'

***

It sounded like the splattering of raindrops on a flat roof....then it swelled to thunderous applause as Sydd pulled herself to her feet and collected her thong.... She didn't bother with the money strewn round the stage.... She figured this career was over....

She had, however, experienced her first taste of what it meant to be dominant—to be in physical control of another individual, and to realize that that individual was excited by it to the extent that he/she came too....Yes...he had come....the sticky, translucent streaks on her boots were proof enough....

There were lots of hands to help her from the stage that night....

***

She didn't wait to be called in....as soon as she was showered and dressed, she went straight to the manager's office....

'May I have my last week's pay?' There was no desire for pity in her tone; but resignation was its edge...

He looked up over the smoke haze of the cigar-butt he chomped: "Why? You got a better gig than this?'....

'I thought...after tonight....'

'That's the problem with you smart-ass, college girls...you think too much.... If I let you go, all my customers would leave with you....besides, before tonight's, eh, ' revelation' you was packing 'em in anyway.... Now, I figure, when word gets out about how 'special' you are.... I'll have to turn 'em away.... So, whaddya want, more money?...'

'I just thought....'

'More money.... You think too much....take tommora off...be on time Friday....'

***

Some of the girls looked sidewise at her as she moved to the exit.... One or two actually said 'Goodnight'.... There were those who were wondering if what they had seen was true...and if they might....

She pulled up her collar against the wind, turned into it....

Then a voice, soft: 'Wait up! ....You forgot this....' A wad of bills is pressed into Sydd's hand.... 'Mind if walk?....I'm travelin' this way....'

It was Rye....

And that was many years ago....

***

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