Chapter 16.4
“Fuck it!” I exclaimed and went to the bathroom, I could hear Ellie talking from the other room, realising I’d left a bit dramatically, I walked back to pick up the phone, “guys can wear eyeliner and mascara can’t they?” I asked her rhetorically “That’s a thing isn’t it? if I was a goth or into metal?” setting the phone down next to the sink, I grabbed my kit.
Ellie chimed in “Absolutely, although they wouldn’t pair it with gloss pink nails, and totally wouldn’t be as cute” I snorted, almost slipping with the mascara. “Can you not just let me have this? I know I’m plucking at straws, but this voice is making me feel really weird, I don’t know how to describe it, I need a little something to offset it” I trailed off, now pulling a concentrating face as I applied a little black line and flick to the corner of each eye.
“You don’t need to convince me, you know I’m going to be complimentary either way, I can see how beautiful you are even in your worst state”. I couldn’t help but smile broadly, before feeling my lower lip wobble a little. I’d received a lot of praise about my looks since I started camming, but this one cut deep. “Thank you, but I” hesitating, trying to find the right words.
Ellie interjected “I know you don’t see it, or maybe even feel it, but one day you will, you just have to keep chipping away, and in the meantime, I’ll keep reminding you” she had a self-assured look of conviction which I knew wasn’t worth trying to argue. Dabbing my wet eye with a tissue to avoid anything running, I could only smile and meekly say thanks.
Adjusting my hair a little more, I stood tall and faced the mirror, the little mascara and eyeliner had done wonders just to lift my eyes, my posture now a bit more proper, chest out slightly. That internal doubting somewhat quieter, I definitely looked more androgenous. Who was I kidding? I looked for sure on the more femme side but that’s where I wanted to be right?
“OK, I think my work here is done” Ellie grinned from the phone, I picked it up and walked back into the main room, she wasn’t wrong, checking myself out in the full-length mirror, it was impressive what a little self-confidence could do, my reflection was much more appeasing, like this, I could go out, with a mask on, speaking as hushed as I could it would be OK.
I thanked Ellie again and blowing me a kiss she hung up. Turning my attention back to my flat and the mess I’d made rummaging for clothes I tidied up and made another lemon, honey and ginger tea. I had a few hours to kill before I had to leave and sat at my computer, going through my content, posting that I’d got a bit of a cold and was going to get tested, replying to messages and chatting with the odd fan on discord.
It was quite a nice way to spend time, the feedback from my stuff was always complementary, some of it incredibly explicit which never failed to put a smile on my face, except for the odd one which erred to the creepy side, but I had to accept that as part of the course unfortunately when it comes to being a cam girl.
By the time it came round to leave to get tested I’d chatted away to my fans and even done a little gaming, it all felt surprisingly normal. Readying myself I had one last check in the mirror to make sure I was alright, and staring back at me was a boyish looking girl, it was definitely more that way round than a girly looking boy, and that was ok. I tested my voice, it was impossible to lift in register, something I’d found so effortless the day previous.
I scrunched my face, maybe I should just make out I’ve got no voice, and talk in a whisper. I tried that and it sounded alright, not great, but it took the obvious masculine edge off and made me feel a bit more comfortable leaving the house.
The testing center was located not far away, in the car park of a local community hall. The government had made a big fanfair of the system, its ability to get people tested and results within 24 hours, the reality was much less efficient. Delayed or missing results, even false positives.
As I arrived it did all look quite organised, a large marquee standing to one side, with clear signs telling you where to queue, markings on the floor to keep us all apart the pre determined 2 meters. A handful of people waited patiently in front of me, at each marked line towards the front stood a post with instructions. As I got to them I read the process, my qr code loaded and ready on my phone, my details below.
I’d had the forethought to put my headphones on to be able to pass the time and avoid over thinking the pending interaction, and as I neared the front I removed them and waited to be called.
Inside there was a kiosk behind a plastic screen, they scanned my phone barely looking at me and pushed a plastic envelope through a slot, “Here you go Mr Palmer, take this and wait to be shown to a bay, if you need help just wave to one of my colleagues” I nodded, wincing at the pronouns they’d used grating against something inside of me, trying my best not so show myself and speak.
Turning round I got to see inside the marquee, it resembling something out of ET, the staff on hand dressed in full PPE, plastic aprons on, gloves, masks and visors. It was quite intimidating and I could feel my eyes pull wide as I took it in. someone waved me down and pointed to a bay in the middle.
There was a small section, with a table, mirror and a basic plastic chair. A middle aged woman with a hint of a Caribbean accent motioned to me and said “take a seat, and follow the instructions on the kit, if you need help, just say” the woman muffled through her mask. I coughed trying to clear my throat which was suddenly dry. In as soft a voice as I could manage “I think I’d like your help, I’ve not done this before”.
Her eyes creased a little in what I could only assume was a smile, “no problem at all, just make yourself comfortable and I’ll set it up. She cleaned her gloved hands with some sanitiser and opened the kit from the bag, it consisted of a long tube with some liquid in and a packet with an equally long swab.
“OK, so I’ll need you to open your mouth and I have to rub the end of this swab at the back of your throat, it is very uncomfortable, but only takes a second on each side” she said in a reassuring voice. I took a calming breath and pulled down my mask, I opened my mouth and studied her face, trying to see if she’d spotted I was really a man, she gave nothing away and approached with the swab.
As she pushed it in, it tickled against the side at the back, it wasn’t half as uncomfortable as they’d explained, looking at her, she continued to swab, her eyebrow raised a little as she shifted to the other side. It was at this point I realised with the position of the swab, I probably should have been gagging.
But when you’ve successfully shoved an impossibly sized dildo down your throat all the way to the hilt, this was barely registering, and I should at least have some reaction, I feigned a gag, pulling away. And she straitened herself up, eyebrows still a little raised. I quickly pulled my mask back on, more than anything to hide my rapidly blushing cheeks.
Resetting myself, as she pushed the swab into the tube and sealed it. adding the labels to the clear pack and handing it to me, glancing at my details on the tag as she passed it to me “Thank you… Mr Palmer, hopefully that wasn’t too bad?” she said with what I can only assume was questioning eyes. My voice croaked in response “no it was fine, much better than I thought”, I could see her eyes relax but could only guess as to what she was thinking.
My cheeks now burning at the thought she’d witnessed a guy with makeup and bright nails on have absolutely zero gag reflex. I scurried to the exit of the marquee, a box with a slot in the top and a sign requesting tests be dropped there. Fingers crossed I would never have to come back here, and double fingers crossed that the woman who tested me would never recognise me outside.
A security guard at the exit door opened it for me, I muffled a thank you through the mask and he replied “you’re welcome miss” and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand a little. I’d escaped without being called out, yes I’d been called Mr, but that’s just because it was written on my tag, yes I’d embarrassed myself by not gagging but, the guard had gendered me correctly, and it felt surprisingly good.
Despite my still sore throat, I felt really good, now I just had to wait until I got the results back, hopefully in only a day or so. As I walked back to my flat, I thought about texting Marc, I really wanted to talk to him more than the little exchange we’d had. And then it hit me, which my sore throat, I could just keep chatting over messenger, it would mean I didn’t have to talk and I could easily not meet him for a week or so, if I had covid or not it didn’t matter.
I pulled out my phone and sent him a message, and my feel good mood encouraged me to reengage with teasing him a little. I wrote something about not feeling well and losing my voice, but wanting to heal my throat fully. I could almost see his face flush at the thought, I smiled the whole way back to my flat.
I took a slightly longer way home wanting to enjoy the fine weather, despite my nervousness the outing had gone alright, sure, being given male pronouns had jarred more than I expected it to, and embarrassing myself by revealing my party trick while being swabbed was a low point, but overall people had been fine. I’d presented as only a mildly feminine version of the old me and it hadn’t gone terribly.
I still felt insecure about my face, the mask still in place acting as a safety blanket in more ways than one. But it felt nice knowing I could go out and relax a bit. I suddenly realised that my appointment at the salon for the hair removal consolation might have to get bumped if I did have Covid, which would have been annoying, but also, being housebound would at least give me more time to get used to the new me.
As I entered the flat the adrenaline of my outing was starting to wear off, as well as the paracetamol fading in effectiveness. My throat felt sore and restrictive, the rest of me felt ok, but also with that slight lag of tell tale illness. Another herbal tea and some meds would keep me going for the afternoon.
I fired off a message to Ellie detailing how it had gone, also explaining that my throat was worse and talking now a real strain. I also hinted at the growing dysmorphia of my rough sounding vocal chords, and how difficult I found being addressed with male pronouns, explaining I really hadn’t expected to feel like that so soon.
As ever Ellie offered words of support and encouragement, but also stressing to me that I shouldn’t worry or over think it. before quickly moving on to Marc and the conversations we’d had. She was incorrigible, I could only imagine what she’d be saying if I wasn’t ill, but I also knew she was right about that too. I could feel a little thrill run through me every time I thought of him, and try as I might, it just wouldn’t go away.
Our chat faded as I started to grow a little tired, she had videos to make and orgasms to have so we said our goodbyes and I relaxed fully into the sofa. I hadn’t realised if fell asleep but I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating on the coffee table. It was a notification for one of my channels.
I opened it up and there was a message from Biggie. I felt myself twitch at the very thought before my throat spasmed a little in pain, croaking a laugh as my body contradicted itself. He had sent a fairly long message, essentially offering sympathies after hearing I wasn’t well, wishing for a speedy recovery, and letting me know to expect a care package in a few days.
I could feel my pulse quicken, after all he had been the one responsible for a lot of the steps and jumps I’d made over the months. He’d always been encouraging, fairly respectful too, and never too insistent or aggressive. My mind quickly raced as to what would be in the package, maybe more outfits, or some beautiful shoes? he did have great taste when it came to things like that. Unless he had more toys, but what could they be?
Firing a response back, thanking for his concern and briefly explaining my day, stating I wasn’t that bad and hopefully it was just a cold and not Covid. It was quite hard concentrating on the message though as my panties had become incredibly tight and the thought of whatever he was going to send me was keeping me stubbornly hard.
Sitting staring at the screen hoping he would reply and give me some more clues, I knew better though, he was never one to give me more details, just teasing me along, pushing my curiosity to the next thing. The thought of a new toy filled my mind, not that he would be able to top his self made one from last time, but a girl could dream couldn’t I?
Realising this was doing nothing for my hard on, I tried to distract myself. I was still feeling drowsy and really should have head to bed, but the thought of playing with myself seemed like the best solution. Not moving from the couch I navigated to my favourite porn site, and doing the bare minimum to release myself I started watching and stroking.
The video I settled on was an amateur couple, both incredibly beautiful and from the footage really into each other, there was a real sense of connection and intimacy between them. Usually I loved to draw out an orgasm, but right now I felt like I just needed to relieve some pressure, and as I stared at the duo my mind felt torn.
The camera angle was now a POV of the guy, looking down on his girlfriend, her legs parted as he slid his full length in and out. there were moments where I was him, laying deep into her pussy, but every now and again I would wonder what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of him.
I knew from Marc what that felt like and could feel my orgasm start to approach, reminded of how magnificent it felt being filled. And then in another breath I was in his position burying myself deep into her warm hole. My mind fizzed, I wanted to be both at the same time, the ultimate vision suddenly before me, sandwiched between the two of them.
I had no warning, I felt me cock pulse and flex, and immediately there were ropes and ropes of cum pouring out over my still clothed chest, a little spattered the underside of the phone being held in my left hand, moving it to the side to receive another but weaker jet to my chin. I carried on pumping, draining out the last drops and extending my climax just long enough to see the couple finish on screen.
I sighed in contentment, my balls immediately feeling lighter. That was perhaps the quickest orgasm I’d had in a long while, and it felt good just to clear the pipes. However I was also aware that there was an underlying desire still lingering. I’d softened a fair bit, but stroked a few times with my cum covered hand and my cock started to re-inflate as if that was a started that barely touched the sides.
I watched, marveling as it swelled back to full mast, before stopping myself, I really needed to get some rest. I couldn’t afford to get even more ill and not work, especially when I’d already taken time off, I was trying to rebuild things in a sustainable way for the future, so that meant going to bed and resisting the urge to play again.