V Is for Vicky

Reality took over.

"I have to find Martina. I have to find my daughter" I said, not knowing what else to say.

I opened the door and walked out, then I realised I was holding Vicky's hand just as a young boyfriend might have done. I slid an arm round her waist and squeezed affectionately as we again headed towards the kitchen. I needed another drink.

Right then I just started considering what I had just done. It hadn't been rape, it had been sex. And with a boy - a trans-sexual, a transvestite, a she-male, a - whatever.

Whoever. With a girl with a cock, sure, but a girl nevertheless. I turned and smiled at her, then I heard a voice from another girl in the kitchen who had her back towards us.

"Katie? Have you seen Victor?"

There was a bit of noise behind us, totally unrelated to us, but she turned round. I stared at Martina. At my daughter. She was standing there, and a man rather older than her was holding her hand just as I was holding Vicky's. She saw me, saw my partner. Clearly she was surprised, even shocked.