i was a pretty innocent 19 year old. I’d been in the city, partying all night at my favourite goth club. We’d met this weird cross dressing dude, that my other friends knew, and had gone back to his place to hang out.
somehow. and don’t ask, because i don’t really know how, we’d ended up in a bedroom, checking out his bondage gear. i know. red flags! at the time though, i was just fascinated by the handcuffs. which somehow i was convinced to try on. Everyone was there, so i didn’t feel unsafe. not until the crossdresser stopped being all girly and i saw his huge, twisted penis and realised i was handcuffed to a bed.
for years i didn’t even remember what had happened. in my edited version of the story i’d managed somehow to be sitting on the side of the bed, having undone the handcuffs and the guy was gone.
once i figured it out, i suddenly understood why i was so afraid of men, and had a squirming dislike for men in dresses. and i had a good cry.