Chapter 15.3
Awaking after a good night’s unbroken sleep, I was greeted with a very familiar feeling, my morning wood was as prominent and demanding as ever. I might have skipped taking the supplements for the last few days, but their effects were clearly still present.
I thought for a while about the concoction, it was all natural stuff, and had clearly worked pretty well, my mind wondered to thoughts of maybe trying to enhance my more feminine attributes. I knew proper HRT was perhaps an option, but not right now, maybe in the same way I took the supplements to enhance the taste of my cum, I could take some natural remedies which might help my body to be more femme?
A little searching later and I’d found loads of resources, some more drastic than others. Entire Reddit groups dedicated to diy hormones, products to use, lotions, potions and even devices. I had to admit it piqued my interest, the thought of having larger more sensitive nipples, maybe even breasts really did appeal, but right now id promised myself I wouldn’t rush into anything, and it also wasn’t helping my morning wood situation.
Reluctantly climbing out of bed I thought today should be a back to routine day. Some light yoga and stretches, maybe a mild workout if I felt like it. relaxing shower and after a little to eat I’d maybe get on with some channel admin, I did have some videos to edit and post, and knowing myself, a little self-pleasure afterwards wouldn’t go a miss either.
It felt good to step into my yoga gear, following a YouTube video through the warmup and then into a workout. The stretches felt great as my once stiff muscles relaxed and I was able to bend with ease. Ending with some guided meditation, I tried hard to keep my mind clear, but images from last nights research popped in before I could shut them out and regain some mindful tranquillity.
Shaking from my daze I felt energised, limber and absolutely in the mood to do something physical. I’d neglected any form of workout for a while now and my body seemed to crave it. the weighted squats, lunges and hip thrusts burned my muscles, the ache feeling strangely comforting, my breath ragged as I repeated sets until I could do no more.
With shaking legs I staggered to the bathroom, giggling to myself a little as I recalled my last big show and how similarly my body was behaving, although from very different causes. As hot water scalded my sweaty skin I felt those aches fade a little. The burn would remain for a while, but my body had gotten used to this level of exercise and I’d probably need to invest in some heavier weights or something to keep up the growth and progress.
Dried, moisturised and dressed in some lounging casuals I sat at my computer with a cup of tea and decided I needed to get back to work. That is my new work. With some apprehension I pulled up all the recordings of that last show and set about editing the video and pulling out some stills.
It was a strange experience to look so intensely at myself, yes I’d done it previously, but that was before. Before I’d really accepted what I was doing, before Marc in the woods, before I’d accepted what I was. Looking at it now I could see I was already that person, the way I moved, the way I spoke and the very obvious way I was clearly enjoying myself.
I felt connected to the girl on screen like I had never before, there was an odd sense of contentment. I was her, I was still coming to terms with the idea that I was trans, that I could be this person beyond the screen and it kind of felt okay. And the unmistakable stir in my panties confirmed I liked what I saw.
I resisted the urge to play with myself, the engorged tent would have to wait. And I carried on editing for a good few hours until my stomach rumbled breaking my flow. It was pretty much there, several videos, different angles all edited into one, lots of shorts and clips, even a few caption gifs which seemed popular and a raft of still shots which with some careful cropping would be suitable for the more tame platforms.
As I stood stretching my arms I realised I was still hard, had it remained so for the entire time? I wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that I’d been leaking for a long while and there was as sizeable wet patch on the front of my joggers. My stomach rumbled in protest, louder this time and I resolved to get something to eat first.
Making a quick sandwich I sat back down, keen to finish up working and get all these things live. The sooner they were online the sooner I could start making money from them. As I ate I typed away, writing descriptions, uploading and posting everywhere I could. By the time id finished I was already getting notifications for comments and more subscribers.
My heart fluttered as I opened reddit and my profile was lit up with notifications. So many replies, so many people watching what I’d done, getting off on it. I felt myself stir again and I knew I wouldn’t have the resolve to resist. The most popular clip was now up on screen as I tried to reply to a few commentators.
As the clip looped on screen and the sound played out I found it pulling me in. god the girl on screen looked hot. Before I corrected myself, that was me, I looked hot! Like, damn I looked really hot!
It was too much, I was too pent up, I fumbled at the elastic around my waist hastily tugging it down, already straining at the thin and soaked fabric of my panties I pulled them aside and sprung free. Wrapping my left hand around my length, already dripping with precum I started to stroke.
Scrolling down the page I read the comments, the praise of my fans, it was really doing a number on me. It felt incredible to be this desired, to have so many people tell me how good I looked and as I returned to the top of the page I had to agree with them. My video looked amazing.
Stroking wasn’t enough though, my ass tingled with a knowing buzz. My lube was on the night stand, and I really didn’t want to move, shifting my right hand down I pawed at my hole a little. it felt needy, but I didn’t want to go in dry, and it was at that moment a globule of precum beaded from my head. Scooping it with my fingertips they returned and pressed in.
I gasped a little as I pushed my middle finger in, there was little resistance and zero discomfort, I hummed a little as I slid further. Fuck it felt so good to stroke while having something in my ass, pushing in deeper until I could go no more. Curling round I found my special button.
With practiced precision I homed in on my prostate, stroking my cock as I rubbed in circles inside. Another giant bead of precum spilled out and I eagerly gathered it adding a second finger inside.
Now with extra leverage I was able to go to town, the noises filling my room not only from the looping video. Slouching back I was able to push in deeper, making stronger contact and starting that inevitable conclusion to my self pleasure. My stroking hand now a slippery blur, my fingers working overtime to the point of almost cramping.
I could feel it start to build and it was coming up fast. With barely a seconds notice I felt that internal heat focus and burst out. I moaned out as the first wave hit and the first shot fired, straight up my chest splashing my chin. The second arrived shortly after blasting stronger, adjusting myself a little it fired right into my eager mouth.
I swallowed and re opened hoping to catch more, it tasted so sweet, memories of all the times id swallowed in my shows, encouraged by my patrons, but now, here in the chair with no viewers I was willingly lapping it up, quite literally as another splash landed on my tongue and chin.
I stroked and massaged, milking every last drop, loosing count of the number of times I came and wringing all I could from my aching balls. I collapsed in the chair, breathing hard, ragged and spent. Shit this felt so good, my body tingling all over with an indescribable euphoria.
As my high subsided, I realised what a mess I’d made, thinking to myself that I might need to work on my target practice as there were strings of cum over my hair and all over my top that I hadn’t even got round to removing. I was going to need another shower and a change of clothes. Once again padding over to the bathroom on shaky legs, and laughing to myself as I repeated this mornings routine but for very different reasons.
Feeling refreshed and now dressed in tight fitting jeans, plain sports bra and a vest top, hoping that it being something a bit more restrictive would prevent another clothes spoiling event, I sat back at the computer and took stock of all my broadcasts.
Channelling my inner admin geek I made a comprehensive Excel doc pulling all the info and figures I could and after a fair amount of copying and pasting had a spreadsheet listing all my points of revenue. I would have to wait a few days to see how these new videos had done and how much money they’d made, but my estimates were looking pretty good.
From what I could tell, I would be able to maybe scale back on the live broadcasts a bit, give myself some more time to deal with the internal struggle of accommodating my gender discovery, sure I could do more and make more money, but right now I had a lot to contend with, and I desperately did not want to over cook it and risk another breakdown.
Today had been a better day, there were still occasional shadows of uncertainty in my mind, of worry if I could do this, or if this was the right path. But I kept coming back to that spreadsheet, it said I would be ok, I just had to believe in myself. And if all else failed I had savings to last for quite some time and I could look for a regular job if needed.
I made a light bite for dinner and sat down to aimlessly scroll through tv channels and previews on Netflix, there wasn’t much on and my mind still felt restless. I dropped a message to Ellie asking how things were going and giving her an update on how I’d been.
Not long after a ping came back “Oh I knew you were feeling better, looking stunning as ever in the vids babe”. I shook my head, of course she’d already have seen my posts and clips, she was my number one fan apparently. Not that I would complain, my face creasing into an intense smile thinking back to our times together.
Flicking back to all my messages I saw Marcs name and a desire to drop him a message crept over me. I was trying to push that away for a bit, but I could feel the pull, the need to revisit. My mind instantly replaying the scene from the woods, I could feel my thighs tighten, squeezing together and an inevitable swelling between them. Biting my lip I tried to think of something else without immediately recalling the fallout and a brief rise of nausea, this was going to be difficult to navigate.
Instead I switched to some retail therapy, a girl could never have too many clothes I thought. I wanted to go out more, I needed more things which would make me feel good, not too safe or masculine, but also femme enough so that I wouldn’t be misgendered, which would crush my confidence.
However with all too much predictability I found myself browsing Victoria Secret for things which I could never wear outside, skimpy, lacey, downright scandalous things. As I flicked through pages, I could imagine myself wearing them, how I’d look on cam, what my fans would say and it made me smile. Making myself happy knowing I would me getting other people off was still a novelty, but I’d embraced it.
There were entirely too many items in the checkout, and I winced at the total. I’d gone totally overboard, this wasn’t an investment in my camming career, this was a present and celebration to myself. Maybe some of these would be for personal use only, to be seen and enjoyed by me. The thought of wearing these under a large coat strolling down the street flashed in my mind, a quiver ran up my spine. Completing the purchase with a self-satisfied feeling.
I never had body confidence before, but this really did it for me, feeling like I could pull that off, like I could own it. I’d spent so long not really putting myself out there as a guy, always playing it safe, and getting by. Now, with this life I could do what I wanted, no boss to tell me otherwise, just keep myself happy and by default, keep my fans happy.
Suddenly yawning, and realising I’d been browsing for hours, it was time to go to bed. I got ready and climbed in. Slipping under the covers, looking at my computer setup, my apartment and sighing with contentment. This was going to be OK, I was going to be OK. Slowly but surely I would figure it all out, how to move forwards, how to live my life, but right now I could sleep, and when I wake up, just keep trying to be OK.