Chapter 16.2
I sat up a little, a pool of liquid running down my taut stomach, I scooped some with my hand and fed it to my eager tongue. Despite not drinking the smoothies for a few days, it tasted good, I thought about Marc, and the time I’d sucked him in the woods. Biting my lip as I realised I’d very much like to do that again.
Turning my attention back to the screen I re-engaged with my fans, I was a sticky mess, but felt amazing, my bandaged had would need redressing but I didn’t care. My balls a little lighter and the shot of dopamine to the brain was doing wonders for my mental state. We chatted for a bit longer, just casually about all sorts of things and nothing in particular.
Talking in an open forum your get all sorts of comments, some not so nice, which thankfully my mods swiftly dealt with, the odd one I’d pick off if I got there first, but overwhelmingly it was positive. Having strangers compliment you does lovely things for your ego, I really had missed this over the last few days, even if there were still creeping doubts and the difficult to shift imposter syndrome of calling myself trans.
As well as my brain enjoying the admiration, my subconscious connected to my nether regions was too, my cock never returning to being fully soft. And it wasn’t long before a fan pointed it out, the moment I wrapped a hand around my length I could feel it pulse and start to stiffen in my grip.
I sighed and chuckled to myself, a ping on the screen with a donation and a request for me to stroke. My chuckle broke into a laugh, I knew I was going to do that without being prompted my anyone. I really had built this body to perform multiple times a day, and despite the earlier relief, still felt backed up.
I started pulling my length back and forth in earnest, a bead of precum already spilling from the tip. Pausing to taste it as more comments, encouragement and tips populated the screen. I chatted while idly stroking myself, but the general consensus of the chat was for me to start playing with some toys.
Naturally they were aiming for the big guns, particularly Biggies monster. I winced slightly, I knew I could, but I still hadn’t prepped, maybe I’d stick with the smaller ones, perhaps something with intense vibrations. The chat were less impressed, but as I flipped to present my ass, lubed up and started slipping the vibe in, they were far more agreeable.
As I found the right angle and motion with a nice chill buzz setting I started to really relax into it. those occasional sparks as I just got it right made my entire body light up. I was still trying to engage with my audience but it was becoming increasingly more challenging. Not to mention my breathing becoming heavier, finding it harder to supress those squeaks as my prostate took a direct hit.
Feeling that familiar slow build I thought about how I wanted to cum, and flashes of previous shows came to mind with me coiled over, sucking for all its worth and being able to swallow every drop. I hadn’t even been challenged to do this during my show, but the appeal was unshakable.
Moving to position, I was suddenly reminded of my lack of movement and exercise of the last few days, after that one session I was fairly stiff, although I was still flexible by most standards, I could feel my back muscles scream as my knees edged closer to my head, there was no way I would be able to accomplish my desires without injury.
Frustrated I uncoiled, and started to take it out on my hole, jabbing the vibrator in and out full length strokes. Working up a sweat I used my wet bandaged hand to stroke and switching the power up to max I drove the toy in as deep as it would go.
A hearty moan echoed out, the pings on screen a distant noise as I once again chased release. With the vibrator buried I pulled it back, forcing the tip to grind directly against my sensitive button. My cock immediately responding with a pulse of precum, oozing down the shaft, collected by my hand now furiously pumping.
I wanted to drain myself completely, till there was nothing left, to satisfy this body totally. But having cum not that long ago, it was taking longer, and my frustration wasn’t helping. I tried to think of things to help me get over the line. Ellies beaming face came to mind, recalling one of the times we’d hooked up, using a strapon.
“fuck yes” I hissed feeling my insides start to twitch, it was building, I could feel it. I concentrated more on that image, the idea of having her here, breast swinging as she pounded me. I was lost in the sea of pleasure, my body riding high on a wave I so desperately wanted to crash ashore. And yet I could feel that orgasm just out of reach.
I kept pounding my cock, it was slick with precum, my ass clenching and flexing on the toy which was thrusting and jabbing directly at my prostate. Everything should have been set to tip me over the edge, but I just wanted more. My toes curling as I could feel myself on the brink but unable to crest.
I opened my clenched eyes, desperate for some inspiration to take me that one step further. “Oh fuck, I’m so close, I need to cum so bad, but it’s not quite there” I grunted through gritted teeth. Through the haze of my vision, I could make out a comment on screen “I bet if Marc was there you would be making a mess in no time”
And as I scanned the words, I shut my eyes, Ellies vision replaced by his chiselled physique, towering over me, the toy in my ass now his rigid member slamming into me relentlessly. I didn’t really want this visualisation, but my subconscious had decided, and it seemingly unlocked the key to my orgasm in the most powerful way.
My body locked up, spasming hard, I felt my cock swell and flex as if it had been struck by electricity, my back arched and my voice cracked as I screamed. Jet after jet once again streaked across my stomach and chest, I opened my eyes to see the third fire directly at my face, splashing my open mouth and chin followed by another.
I carried on pumping, trying to wring every last drop, the buzzing toy on my prostate, pushing spasms and shocks in time with each stroke. As each jet fired the gradually reduced to dribbles. I’d lost count of how many, but my body trembled and shook long after I’d ran dry.
I withdrew the toy, feeling empty and with it, pushing the image of Marc from my mind. I hadn’t wanted so summon him, still feeling uneasy about our last encounter and what happened afterwards. But having to undeniably acknowledge my body’s reaction to him.
My breathing still heavy, twitches still flickering I looked down at my absolutely soaked midsection. My hand was glazed, and dripping in cum, and sparing barely a second thought I brought it to my mouth and sucked it clean, scooping drips from my face as my head fell back to the bed. Staring at the ceiling, finally, fully satisfied.
A distant ping from my computer brought me back to the land of the living, sitting up and feeling the cooling jizz trickle down my chest. Shaking the post orgasmic haze from my mind I asked my audience if they enjoyed that. And even though this was an unplanned show, there were quite a few people watching and they’d been surprisingly generous.
I grabbed a towel and cleaned myself a bit. There was too much to do a decent job. I stayed chatting to my fans for a while, my mind suddenly feeling clear and a bit more calm. Despite what image had come to mind to put me over the edge, I begrudgingly had to accept that those things were going to happen and that clearly, my subconscious knew what it wanted more than I did.
Eventually, the drying cum started to get a bit crusty and uncomfortable, and despite pleas from the chat to take the cameras to the bathroom, I relented and closed things down. I needed a good long shower. Clean body, clean mind and maybe formalise some sort of plan, so I wouldn’t just spend my days drifting and shopping, trying to avoid the inevitable.
I peeled off the sodden bandage, Ellie had done an amazing job, it had held up to the recent abuse, padding still in place all be it a little wetter than it should have been. Removing the last of it revealed three neat stitches. The wound still red, but tidy and had held together. I looked at it closely, whatever she’d done it was remarkable work and hadn’t hurt despite my over exuberance.
The scorching hot water washed away my bodily fluids, and as I relaxed into the steam I realised how much I needed that release. I really had tuned my body to perform, now that it was unloaded I could think a bit clearer, feel more connected to myself and as I shut the water off I felt calm like I had when I woke this morning, boner aside.
Even moisturising post shower felt therapeutic, a ritual and celebration of this body which I should be proud of, it looked good and now showered and treated, it felt good too. Wiping the steam from the mirror I smiled as my face came into view through the fog. I still looked like me, only the me that was embracing this new life.
I knew it wouldn’t all be plain sailing, I’d stumble and there were bound to be setbacks. But if it’s what I wanted, then it was up to me to make it happen in the way I wanted it to. Putting my hair in a towel and folding it over my head, I left the steamy comfort of the bathroom and went to grab some night clothes from my wardrobe.
Before I got there I noticed a neat little stack of medical supplies on the side, a roll of bandage, padding, tape, antiseptic cream and plasters. Ellie had left a care package and I found myself choking up a little, I’m not sure I would ever be able to thank her enough as I re-wrapped my hand and then got dressed.
There really was nothing like silk against freshly moisturised hairless skin, I made a cup of hot chocolate, grabbed a notepad and curled up on the sofa. I’d give myself a rough daily plan, a basic schedule. Wakeup, light exercise/yoga/ stretching. Breakfast and then weather permitting a walk outside. When I get back id do a private show, that is just recording for me, no audience, maybe modelling some outfits, the usual influencer stuff, content for socials and all that boring ‘work’ stuff.
Then a proper workout, it’d be different each day, but always with some flexibility, no way was I struggling like earlier, self fellatio was a skill I had no intention of losing. And then prep for a proper evening show. I’d have to plan themes, outfits etc. but that was maybe a separate planning session, it needed more thought, and dare I say it even a strategy.
This was going to be my job after all, my livelihood depended on it and I couldn’t just keep doing the same thing and expect people to pay. And then therapy, I needed to find a professional to help me, I shouldn’t expect myself to know how to deal with all this, and definitely couldn’t expect my friends to help me in that way either.
My mind then drifted to Ellie and Marc. Their presence in my mind earlier was pleasant, but imagining people is much less complicated and dealing with them in real life. Of course I wanted to see Ellie again, I needed to pay her back for sure, I owed her big time. My heart suddenly aching a little as I thought about my breakdown, about the story of her friend and how despite my gradual acceptance of my gender, I needed to take care of myself and not rush things, not apply too much pressure or expectations.
I breathed out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, nodded to myself and took another sip of hot chocolate. Ellie was a good one, I smiled to myself, I was sad that the prospect of us being an exclusive item wasn’t an option, but to be honest, anything would be better than nothing. And then there was Marc, I was still weary, still not sure if I should pursue that.
I didn’t want to rush things, I didn’t want to risk another crisis. But at the same time, my damned subconscious kept throwing him in there, a metaphorical wacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tube man, drawing me in to present him as an exciting new offer. I was going to have to accept, I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to see him again and I wanted to do other things with him.
Tomorrow, I would message him tomorrow, I chided myself. I needed to keep this simple and I could already feel my body respond to just the idea. I groaned out loud in exasperation. Willing my growing hardness to soften I put on the TV and surfed channels for a while.
Although mentally I was already composing the message to Marc, shaking my head again, I needed to not think about it. I should chat to Ellie, although the moment I mention it I know she’d be all for me dragging him to the woods again, I could already imagine her face when I tell her, eyes sparkling, wicked grin spreading across her lips.
My mind raced ahead with the thought of her essentially getting horny in front of me, and that wasn’t helping me either, feeling my pulse quicken. “Right!” I exclaimed to no-one, I picked up my notepad and carried on with my planning. Scribbling ideas and roughing out an extended schedule so I could stick to that and be less distracted. There is nothing like admin to take the horn away.
Half an hour later I had something resembling a plan, for the next two weeks I had everything set out for each day. The routine, when to eat, sleep, do shows, book salon appointments etc. I’d even gone to the trouble of marking a day I’d meet Marc, obviously he’d need to agree, but why wouldn’t he? That was at the end, a motivational reward for making the plan, and sticking to it.
With things settled mentally a little, I felt more at ease. Now flicking through the channels it felt much easier to pick something, a bit of standup comedy, a pleasant distraction. Only moments after it started I yawned wildly, suddenly feeling exhausted even though it wasn’t that late. Perhaps I should just go to bed, I didn’t feel great, but I guess that’s to be expected. My body a little heavy and even my throat felt a little raw, although that could have been from my antics earlier.
Less than thirty minutes later, before the show had even finished, I shut off the tv and headed to bed, the shower could wait until the morning, it was in the plan I smiled to myself. Getting undressed, setting an alarm and slipping into bed, tomorrow I’d wake up and get things on track I thought as I drifted off to sleep.