A BDSM Novel Starring a Gay Trans Guy

Queer trans representation in BDSM play

A person is playing a cello with a black background. We can only see the person's hand, chin, nose, and mouth.
Image by VadimVasenin on DepositPhotos (owned by author)

CW: References to dominance, submission, sadism, and masochism. No specific details, only vague mentions. Also internalized misogyny and transphobia.

In all the fiction that I’ve read, rarely do I see sex scenes that feature trans characters, let alone affirming ones.

What’s even rarer are BDSM stories told from a trans perspective.

That’s why I treasure Sex in C Major by Matthew J. Metzger (external Amazon link) so much. The author is a gay trans man, and so is the story protagonist, Stefan.

Stefan grapples not just with gender dysphoria, where most people still see him as a girl, but also with severe poverty, abandonment from his family, and a fear of his sexual fantasies.

He is a submissive and a masochist, and he believes that it’s wrong to be turned on by the thought of being dominated and humiliated. In his mind, only women are supposed to enjoy these roles. So this compounds his gender dysphoria: is he “really” a man if he wants to be submissive?

Stefan’s new friends, Daz and Daz’s partner Yannis, tell him repeatedly that there’s nothing wrong with a man for wanting to be dominated. If you look online for encounters, you will find plenty of men who are submissive. A lot of women are dominant, too. Gender normative expectations are nothing but hogwash, anyway.

Aside from the gender role concerns, Stefan thinks it’s “sick and wrong” to want men to do bad things to him (I won’t specify what bad things since some of them are quite intense), but Daz, who becomes Stefan’s master and dominant, reassures Stefan that his fantasies are normal and common.

Daz added that if Stefan was messed up to have masochistic desires, then Daz would be even more messed up for his sadistic desires.

Yet, it’s all consensual role-play, not real. They use safe words. They are not literally master and slave. If Stefan doesn’t want to do something, he can use the safe word, “checkmate,” and Daz would stop without question.

A chess board drawn and shaded in with pencil. There are 7 pieces on this board, where a black queen knocks down a white king.
Photo courtesy of imagedb_seller on DepositPhotos (owned by author)

However, I did worry whether they were being totally safe. I know that the sadist master needs to be dominant and push the sub to do things, but I wonder if Daz was going too far at times.

Maybe it would have been better if Daz checked in with Stefan more often. Or would that be a turn-off?

I don’t know, as I’ve never tried it before. But Stefan frequently passed out from the physical, and sometimes mental, pain.

A friend who is more knowledgeable about BDSM, told me that it can be challenging for the dom to balance taking the initiative and making sure the sub truly wants something.

Consent can be a tricky thing, too. “Just say no if you don’t like it,” is not enough of a safeguard. The sub may put up with something because they are afraid to disappoint their partner.

Or, in Stefan’s case, they may be confused about what they really want, and endure more than what they’re comfortable with. It’s even trickier if the discomfort itself is arousing…

So while I was annoyed at Stefan for taking so many chapters to finally use the safe word, I might have been too harsh on him. He was bewildered, scared, and wanted so much to be accepted by Daz and Yannis. That fear of rejection and abandonment, cannot be understated.

Another point I hadn’t thought of, is that the dominant can and should safeword too. The sub may request a scenario that the dom is uncomfortable with and can refuse.

Daz is not perfect and he could certainly be more prudent sometimes, but this is still the most positive portrayal of a sadist I have ever seen. In fact, I’ve never seen a sadist depicted in a sympathetic light before, hence why I had some misconceptions about them until now.

Musical Pleasure

Stefan owns a cello. Playing music is one of the rare times when he feels grounded and at peace.

Yannis plays double bass and piano.

In fact, Yannis grows much friendlier towards Stefan when he finds out that the latter is a musician too.

Yannis and Stefan bond over music in interesting ways. The music they play enhances Stefan’s sexual enjoyment too.

It has something to do with the C major scale, hence the title. But I won’t elaborate, or I’ll spoil the plot!

Someone plays a cello against a solid black background. Only the person's arm, neck, and thigh are visible.
Photo courtesy of sumners on DepositPhotos (owned by author)

Aromantic and Asexual Representation

I also love that Yannis is aromantic and asexual. I’m on the aro and ace spectra myself. Yannis is comfortable being in a romantic relationship with Daz and is okay with the word “boyfriend.” But Yannis dislikes kissing, cuddling, and sex.

I am the opposite, where I’m down for any physical affection except hand-holding, but I feel grossed out by romantic labels and don’t want to be in a romantic relationship. I love intimate relationships that are both emotional and physical and aren’t romantic, however.

Nevertheless, I appreciate how Yannis goes against the stereotype that all aros want to be single. Some of us do want a deeper, long-term relationship of some sort, whether romantic, platonic, or something else.

Aros are a diverse community. While some may be happy to be single and only desire friendships, others may hope to find more intimate relationships, including unconventional ones that don’t fit social molds.

What you want may also change over time, as I’ve discovered these past two years.

Stefan discovers that he’s aromantic too, in yet a different way. He doesn’t fancy sweet and affectionate gestures like kissing, and he doesn’t want a romantic partner. But he does want to be in a consensual master-slave relationship where his master cares for him.

A flag fluttering in the wind against a sunny, dynamic sky. The flag has 4 horizontal stripes. The top stripe is black, followed by grey, white, and lastly, purple at the bottom.
The asexual pride flag. Image by annlarich on DepositPhotos (owned by author)
A flag fluttering in the wind against a blue sky. The flag has 5 horizontal stripes. The top stripe is bright green, followed by light green, white, grey, and finally, black at the bottom.
The aromantic pride flag. Photo by Mermolenko on DepositPhotos (owned by author)

Racial Diversity

The racial diversity in the book was awesome, too. Both Daz and Yannis are brown guys.

We don’t know their ethnicity from the start. We only know that they’re handsome. It’s only later that we find out they have dark skin. This debunks any racist belief that we can only be beautiful if we’re white.

I love books that introduce us to an attractive character, and only reveal to us later that they have dark skin. These characters encourage us to question our society’s white-centric beauty standards.

Content Warnings

Yet, I have to say that I was amazed at the content warnings, or rather, the lack thereof. If you look at the book cover and the blurb, they strongly hint that this is not for the faint of heart.

Book cover of Matthew J. Metzger's Sex in C Major. In the cover art, we see someone in a dimly-lit room, naked with his wrists bound in chains. We can only see his arms and thighs.
Image source: Amazon.com (Metzger 2017)

The back cover blurb (Metzger 2017).

Stefan has … fantasies.
He knows chasing those fantasies is only going to end in disaster, but he can’t seem to stop his self-destructive spiral. He’s a transgender man struggling to come to terms with the intersection of his identity and his sexual fantasies as a submissive. He needs someone to take control before he loses it completely.
Daz can take control. He can teach Stefan everything there is to know about sex and submission, but for some reason, he can’t get inside Stefan’s head. Daz can stop Stefan’s self-destruction but not the fear that fuels it.
Stefan needs to know who he is before he can accept what he is. And it’s Yannis — Daz’s aromantic, asexual, stern, and sarcastic partner — who has the answer.

It’s clear that the plot revolves around BDSM and power play. But I was unprepared for how brutal some of the scenes were. At times, I worried if I could make it to the end.

But I did finish the story, and I’m glad. It was well worth the read, but brace yourself for the heavier scenes!

This book makes me wonder, though: how specific should an author be with content warnings? Is it enough to imply through the book cover and blurb that some scenes could be triggering? Or should the author have used specific labels?

Honestly, if the author did use content warnings to specify what extreme things the characters did, I probably would have avoided this book altogether. And I would have missed out on a great reading experience.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think content warnings are very important and should be used. But in this case, the author chose to use implicit warnings through the cover art and blurb, and I realize that content warnings may be more complicated than I thought.

Anyhow, I learned a lot about myself in reading Sex in C Major. I won’t specify what, but I’ve gained more insight and acceptance towards myself. And I’ve grown more understanding and open-minded towards both sadists and masochists.

One last word: I want to emphasize that this is a work of fiction, where flawed characters do what they want to do. They make mistakes, they mess up, and they do awful things, even with the best of intentions.

This is not a manual on how to do BDSM. This is a story with complex characters who make you think more deeply about your reality.


Metzger, M 2017, ‘Sex in C Major’, [Amazon blurb], viewed 24 May 2022, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072V4V4ZH


Originally published in Queerly Trans on May 26, 2022