Camming Down the Rabbit Hole

I woke, from a restful sleep that felt like the first proper one in years. The room already flooded with bright sunlight. Confused I turned to check my phone to see it was already well past 11. I must have slept for nearly 12 hours. But it wasn’t just that I felt physically rested, my mind also felt lighter.

Sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stretched out yawning. It felt decidedly strange to not have anything to do, I’d spent the last few months with a task, a focus, something I was working towards and now that wasn’t really there anymore. I wasn’t going back to work, I was going to put all my time into camming, but from last night’s calculations I could scale back and still be OK.

I knew myself well enough that without some sort of goal, I’d just sit and fester in the apartment, sure I could start a broadcast or record a video, to which my customary stubborn morning wood flexed at the thought. But I kinda didn’t feel like it, I wasn’t sure what to do.

Lurching out of bed, and stepping into the bathroom I stared at my reflection in the mirror, no makeup, hair tussled, I smiled slightly. Truly thankful for the first time that I was never that masculine, that my light facial hair didn’t grow at an incredible rate and my features were soft enough to be able to see the girl underneath.

Twisting left and right, I scrunched my face a little at my profile, my nose a little too big, my brow a little too heavy, maybe my jaw a little too strong. The thought of using makeup to dial it back popped into mind, and my expression eased. All these days of putting on makeup for my shows I knew I could pass, but part of me now wanted to without that artificial mask.

I sighed and looked at all my supplies, just a little foundation, a few highlights here and there, some mascara and that plumping lipstick would be enough wouldn’t it? I asked myself. And a little while later my reflection was much more agreeable, with the added bonus that concentrating on my face had meant my morning boner had subsided.

Trotting out to my wardrobe I picked a cute outfit, I felt like venturing outside again today, going for a walk in the park, or at the very least round the block. Dressed I stood admiring the full length reflection. I smiled a little, I’d leant into presenting femme more than the previous day and it felt nice, a little kick of energy rippled through me.

I made some breakfast, although really it was near enough lunchtime and sat on the sofa thinking about what I should get up to after I went for a walk. I felt uneasy about the lack of things to do, a week ago I would be gearing up for a second show about now, my cock twitched a little at the thought. But I just didn’t have the mental urge, my raging physical libido would have to calm itself for a while.

Stepping out the front door and down the street it felt seriously good to get some fresh air. Spring well and truly established, plants and flowers coming into bloom, there was always something rejuvenating about this time of year in London. A sunny day seemed to make everything better, I walked aimlessly, avoiding the usual park I’d go to so as not to bump into Marc, but heading for some smaller ones.

As I strolled along at a comfortable pace I found myself checking out the other people passing me by. I realised after a while that under normal circumstances I’d be eyeing up the women, but now I was evaluating them in a different way, surveying their clothes, the fit, the style and combinations. Sure I was still appreciating a low cut top, but I found myself wondering what brand of bra it might be rather than their cup size.

Shaking my head a little at the realisation that accepting I was trans was not going to be as simple as flicking a switch and understanding all my thoughts. I wasn’t really equipped to deal with most of what was going on. And as much as I wanted to lean on Ellie, I felt like she wanted some distance in there too, the pain of losing her friend and bringing all that up for her can’t have been easy.

Finding a park bench still kissed by the dappled sunlight from the trees above I sat for a while, just thinking about what I wanted, what I felt and what I needed to do for myself. As a jogger ran by the thought of Marc came to mind. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, already acknowledging I wanted to see him again.

Looking out over the small park, the dogs playing, the birds tweeting I resolved to reach out again properly, sooner rather than later, just in a casual way though, nothing too flirty or suggestive. And that I needed to go makeup shopping, feeling self-conscious about my appearance even though it was no different than a week ago, I just wanted to feel more secure in myself.

Dwelling on that a little I wondered if I should do some minor procedures, I’d talked about fillers with the salon I’d been to, I knew they would only be temporary, and it might just ease the dysmorphia I could feel creeping in. but makeup first, then after a bit of research maybe talk to them when I had my laser hair removal consultation in a few days.

I set off towards the shops, a bit more purpose in my stride, realising that I couldn’t just spend my days drifting, occasionally doing a show, I needed to have a new focus. That focus would be me, I’d work on myself, maybe start therapy, definitely do some reading into the options I had, and dedicate proper time to exercise.

Bouncing into a local department store I headed for the makeup section. I kinda knew what I needed, but also wanted to kit myself out with enough to pull off any number of looks, to have more options not just for the shows but in my day to day life. Catching the eye of an assistant we spent a good hour going through products, trailing them, and making selections. Another significant dent to my bank balance, but one utterly necessary.

Feeling a little more positive, I took my bags and started walking back, I paused in the coffee shop to grab a drink, ordering to takeaway I found a bench further down the street a little away from everyone. Watching people go by, and generally feeling a little bit more settled, that is until a really attractive couple walked pasted on the opposite side.

They strode confidently, hand in hand, perhaps on a date out for lunch. They were both visible happy, smiling and laughing at each other. Before they disappeared out of view, they stopped, I could see him talking to her with intent, it wasn’t serious, I craned my ears to try and hear, but they were too far with the background hum of city life drowning them out.

There was a pause and then she leant up to kiss him, it started soft but very quickly as her arms wrapped around his neck, got more passionate. As his hand slid down her side and grabbed a fist full of her cheek I felt myself flush, hard.

I was transfixed by their public display of affection, not long after they broke apart, beaming at eachother and I felt my heart leap a little. I was happy for them, finding each other during a pandemic cant have been easy, making a connection in the midst of chaos. And I hoped one day I’d be able to do the same, weather that be with Ellie or Marc, or even someone else.

As they disappeared out of view, I became suddenly aware of pressure down below. I was hard, achingly hard. I rolled my eyes, chastising myself. I’d spent the last few months training this body, conditioning it to be aroused nearly all the time. Performing multiple times a day had become my routine, which whether I liked it or not meant I’d probably have to take care of myself.

I turned my attention back to my half-finished coffee in an attempted to channel my brain to something else, thinking “I wonder what coffee grounds they use? Arabica? What about the latte art, do they still do that if you get a takeaway and put a lid on it?” I peeled it off and looked inside, it was half messed up. I couldn’t really tell if they’d done anything or not.

“fuck” I muttered under my breath, I was as hard as ever, my foray into the life of a barista had done nothing, I had to think of something else, even more dull… a small flock of pigeons settled on a patch of grass, pecking away. Pigeons arnt sexy, positively skanky if anything, and then the image of the bird lady from Mary Poppins came to mind. That’s better, she definitely wasn’t sexy.

But on the other hand Julie Andrews in that film… I scrunched my eyes up to try and push that from mind. I remembered watching it as a kid, and just thinking she was so pretty, she was probably my first crush, only as a repressed memory surfaced, the thought of lace and petticoats seemed like such fun to wear to me back then.

“Jesus fucking Christ” I chided myself a little louder than before, this wasn’t helping, it was making it worse. I huffed a big sigh, I was just going to have to go home and sort myself out, I was being held hostage by my own libido. How was I going to be able to walk back? It was going to be painful to just stand and start walking, I’d have to rearrange myself in the most un-lady like manner.

Using my shopping bag as a shield, I did my best to move things. Fumbling I managed to get my erection pulled up to the waistband, it was still noticeable, but at least comfortable enough to walk, the bag and the coffee cup were going to have to cover me until I was on the quieter streets.

What proceeded was the most awkward 10minuite walk, every step caused the fabric to rub, and by the half way point I could feel myself leaking a bit. Thankfully as I moved to the side streets I could walk a little less conspicuously, just praying I didn’t run into any neighbours or even worse the delivery man who’d already taken a shine to me.

By the time I made it to my front door, I was hot, flustered and there was a very obvious wet patch spreading. Crashing into my flat, as soon as the door closed behind me I threw the bag down and pulled at the front of my jean shorts. Slipping them down the release of pressure felt divine. My panties were soaked and my erection stood proud but clearly a little raw from chafing all the way home.

Regaining a little composure I thought about how I wanted to relieve myself, I could just go ahead. But seeing that couple, I really wanted some sort of connection, maybe Ellie would be up for a booty call? But in the second that I dwelled on it, I realised I wanted my fans, I wanted to perform. Afterall, that’s what this body was craving.

I pulled a few items of clothing out, and went to the bathroom to freshen up. My reflection as I stripped out of my clothes was very clearly flushed, rosy cheeks, nipples already taut and my cock, still bobbing around, seemingly with the stamina of migrating wilderbeast.

The quickest of showers, followed by stepping into my selected lingerie, still unable to tuck myself in. I was in part beginning to worry, being hard for this long without stimulation isn’t normal, it could be something bad, but as I felt my mind start to catastrophise I shook myself. I just needed to get off, i needed to get off badly

Back infront of the cameras, I adjusted the lighting, made sure things were recording, and logged into the stream. It was slow to begin with, this wasn’t my usual time, and I hadn’t publicised it so I couldn’t expect to be entertaining a large audience straight away.

As fans trickled in I just chatted idly, I spent time talking, making sure I held my voice in the right way. previously I’d jumped right into an overly femme pitch, it was alright but id been able to do better, letting my throat relax, pushing a little more air through and softening out the tones. There were comments about the bandage on my hand and I passed it off as a kitchen accident but nothing serious.

I make it sound like I was just talking away and not much else, but in truth I’d been stroking myself for a good hour now, fans were making suggestions, but I had my own desires to think about. This show wasn’t about making money, it was just about relieving the tension and pressure that was backed up.

I’d scratched the itch of making a connection with people, of feeling their desire and boosting my ego, now it was time to put this body to work. I stretched across the bed, and grabbed one of my more modest toys. It was a lifelike dildo, around the same size as my own penis, with a gentle curve upwards which never failed to hit the spot. I did briefly glance and Biggies custom creation and flashbacks of the last time I used it filled my mind. However I hadn’t done any prep, and I didn’t want to ruin myself completely.

With a little lube and only a small amount of pressure, it started to slide in, and I hummed with delight as it rubbed along, my cock flexing and twitching as the ridges passed over my pleasure button.

I could hear the odd ping in the background, but now it was time for me. With a hand wrapped around my dribbling cock I started to slide the toy in and out in unison with my hand. thoughts of Ellie pegging me filled my mind and I tried but failed to supress a moan.

This felt so good, my body finally getting what it had been demanding of me all day. My hand now slick with my own precum, the bandage soaked, sounds of the toy pumping in and out of my ass filled the room.

It was building quickly, but it was exactly what I wanted. In the past I loved chasing the protracted buildup, it always meant for bigger orgasms, but this was more insistent. I just wanted to cum, hard.

I whined as I upped the speed, both around my now throbbing cock and the dildo in my ass. I was right there, I could feel it, my breathing ragged, moans with every thrust, eyes clenched shut willing myself to crest.

Unable to contain it a moment longer, cum blasted from my distended head, a thick rope landing across my stomach and chest. My left hand now gripped firmly around my flexing rod at the base as my other hand pumped furiously behind, each thrust sending another jet.

I hadn’t realised I was holding in a silent scream, and as the pressure slowly dropped and the blasts turned to dribbles my throat squeaked out a protracted “Yessssss”. My entire body now twitching in time with the aftershocks of a deeply satisfying orgasm. I opened my eyes to be greeted by my stomach and lace bralette soaked in cum.

I removed the toy, gasping a little at the sudden loss of pressure, my still semi hard penis flexed a little as a final bead ran from the tip. I looked at the mess and smiled, scooping a little and bringing it to my out stretched tongue. I sucked my fingers clean with a satisfying smack of my lips.

Momentarily remembering I had an audience, id stopped performing for them some time ago, the whimpers, the body twitches and feeding myself had all been for my own benefit, and I couldn’t be happier. Of course seeing the screen a flood of yellow boxes was a nice bonus. But fundamentally, this body I had crafted just loved getting off, and that was a good one.