Camming Down the Rabbit Hole

As the soap washed from my hair and I turned off the water I had to accept I still had work to do, I wasn’t mentally ready to meet him again even if I was very clearly physically. The cooler air in the bathroom as I stepped from the shower cubicle helped clear my mind somewhat. After a little time applying my usual post wash skincare I dressed comfortably and went to get something to eat in the kitchen.

Picking up my phone on the way there was a message from Ellie “OMG babe, that was a show! I’ve never seen anything like it, so incredibly hot. Had me making a mess of myself too. Give me a call when you’ve recovered”. I had to laugh, she was the one who told me to take my time and not rush into it, while simultaneously being my biggest cheerleader.

With a cup of tea and a bite to eat I sat on the sofa and called her up. She gushed at the show, saying how hot it was, how she’d never seen anyone cum like that, how she wished she could have been in the room and joined in. it was exactly what I didn’t need to hear, I’d lost control, forgotten the things I’d promised myself of not rushing, especially with Marc.

Our date was supposed to be low key, just a chat, just casual, and now all I could think about was dragging him to the woods again, and I desperately didn’t want a repeat of last time. Well that wasn’t entirely true, I wanted a repeat of the first bit, just not the soul crushing, all-consuming despair that followed.

Ellie, clearly trying to tread the line of her usual role of being the responsibly irresponsible friend, reassured me that part of the issue last time was that I didn’t know myself, that it happened to the old me that didn’t understand what and who I was. Now that I knew, it wouldn’t happen again, while I might have some conflicting emotions afterwards it wouldn’t spiral. And to make sure she’d wait at home for me if I was worried.

That settled me slightly, I was still in a post session haze, my mind clouded by the highs only an all-consuming orgasm can give, but also with a clarity that hoped I would be able to navigate our first date and keep things sensible. Ever the supporting friend Ellie suggested we book a spa the day before, some bubbly drinks, a little pampering, a bit like a coaching session before a big match.

Of course the idea cracked me up, I knew she was only going to get me in more trouble, but I also missed hanging with her, what with the infection it had been a while and I needed some good company, corrupting or otherwise. But by the end of the call my nerves had been calmed, she once again flooded me with compliments on the show which I found myself blushing at profusely.

Setting the phone down I felt a little better about things, I’d spend the next few days following the plan of workouts, trips to the shops and my broadcasts, with a full session booked at the spa the day before our date, I’d be as prepared as I could be, I just needed to make sure I wouldn’t get carried away when we did finally meet up.

I’d originally planned to do two shows today, but messed that up by getting so utterly carried away, I could probably muster enough stamina to go again later, but the broadcast had been really successful so I also didn’t feel the need to over perform. I also wanted to get all that footage edited and published, it was surprising how long it takes to cut down 3 hours of video from two cameras. My legs involuntarily squeezed together at the thought of having to watch today’s events unfold again. But that was a job for the morning.

I decided to carry on with some more voice coaching, each session brought new techniques to help shape my tone. The pitch was somewhat right, but I found it hard to have much range, and while it was decent enough and comfortable for me to talk it didn’t feel one hundred percent there. I practiced until I could feel my vocal muscles straining, chuckling to myself as I was used to my throat feeling the strain for very different reasons.

As the last tutorial wrapped up, I turned my attention back to sorting out some therapy, and a short exchange of messages had an initial session booked the morning before the spa day. I was apprehensive, knowing that I’d have to reveal a lot about myself and while I broadcast it to thousands, that was a persona, a caricature I’d made. The real me was far less together, but regardless of how intense it might be, the rest of the day with Ellie being pampered would be the perfect antidote.

I also really wanted to make sure I had something in place should I spiral again, and not have to load all that on Ellie, I wanted to take some responsibility of my own mental health, and I needed a professional for that. Janet, the therapist I’d chosen looked like she ticked all the boxes, especially as she listed working with gender issues and exploration as one of her main strengths. There were testimonials from other trans people espousing her attitude and depth of knowledge, she might have been a fair bit older than my own mum, but she seemed similar in spirit.

Settling that down and now having quite a bit to do in the few days before I would meet Marc I was all set, there would of course be some shopping, I needed the cutest of outfits. Checking the weather apps it was going to be a good day thankfully, so maybe a short summer dress, something that I could use some falsies stuck on really well, without a bra, and of course easy access. Before stopping myself, chastising the thought that the date was purely a hookup. But I couldn’t supress it, I wanted to look and feel my best regardless of what would happen.

Thinking of Marc I fired off a text, it wasn’t that late, but he often had clients very early, and was a stickler for getting his proper amount of sleep. The message stayed unread, and I pouted somewhat that there would be no back and forth before I went to sleep. Sending another wishing him sweet dreams and hoping to chat the next day, at the very least I’d put a smile on his face first thing.

Waking up I all too eagerly reached over for my phone, quickly flicking through to my messages hoping to see a reply from Marc. There was one, not too long, just thanking me for my message, hoping I slept well, wishing me a good day and that we might have time to chat later. At one point he called me princess and it just made me feel really good, I’d had similar feelings when Ellie had done that, and it was strangely comforting, making me buzz in a good way somewhere deep in my brain.

I guess it was having my gender confirmed, being seen and treated as a woman, and not in a sexual way. of course I’d had loads of affirming names when I did my shows, but that was the cam girl persona, she was obviously female. Me and this somewhat confused brain however still had some catching up to do, but little things like this really made me feel good. The guy in the pizzeria the other day had been similar, I just hadn’t had the right headspace to appreciate it.

I climbed out of bed with a smile on my face, my mood already positive. Today’s plan was yoga, edit yesterday’s footage, go for a shower and then head out for some shopping. I was only going to do an evening show, and hopefully being pent up all day would make the inevitable self-facial all the more impressive.

My body flushed at the thought, tenting the yoga leggings I’d squeezed into. I worked through an extended tutorial, really pushing each stretch, my flexibility now restored and even finding new boundaries. Ending with a little guided meditation it was interrupted by persistent less tranquil thoughts, how was I going to manage to get the footage edited? I thought to myself as I peeled off my clothes and tried to stuff myself into some jeans.

It was awkward and not that comfortable, but softened while I ate breakfast enough for me to start the laborious process of splicing the two camera angles together, tweaking the colour grading and levels and making sure the sound synced. Making porn was surprisingly involved, even more so when it came to those little captioned gifs that seemed so popular.

I was only half way through but really struggling with my boner now painfully pressing on the inside of my jeans. I thought momentarily of relieving myself to sort it out, but remembering I wanted to save up for later I tried other things. I released my cock and it bobbed and leaked as I tried to comp together the main video.

It was no good, I was going to have to lock it up. I’d learned that the medium cage I had was just right for this, it wasn’t so small as to be painful, but also just the right size to stop me from getting fully hard, and it meant I could go about my day, relatively distraction free.

Of course it took applying ice to finally get the lock in place, and I groaned a little as my body adjusted to its plastic confides. I can’t say that it was fully successful in helping me focus but it was absolutely better than it had been. Finishing up the last of the clips and static shots. Uploaded and primed to post throughout the day, I was now hungry and ready to go out, grab some lunch and indulge in more retail therapy.

It was gloriously warm and bright outside and as I rummaged through the clothes I did have, I couldn’t find anything that suitable. My first port of call would be somewhere I could get a nice sun dress, I had something in mind I hoped would look good on me, but I just wasn’t sure I could pull it off.

I momentarily thought about removing the cage, but knowing I was about to go shopping again, try on loads of cute clothes, and the lack of relieving myself as I often did in the mornings, I thought it best to keep it on. It would also be a bit of a thrill to wear a chastity cage in public, no doubt making tonight’s release even more fun.

Dressed in something casual, but had put on my breastforms as I didn’t want to be totally shapeless, a splash of makeup, I headed to the first shop, fully intending to buy an outfit and wear it for the rest of the day. I wasn’t disappointed as I pulled out some sparkly ballet shoes, and found the cutest floral sun dress, grabbing a few other items I headed to the fitting room to make sure they looked ok.

As I stripped off my reflection caught me, and the realisation of where I was and what I was doing hit me. Often in the past I just bought clothes and took them home, it was much less intimidating, the mirror cast back an image which made me feel very self-conscious. I turned away, tugging the dress over my head, pulling it down, smoothing it over my chest and making it sit better.

Holding my breath a little I turned to face the mirror. I could see the nervousness in my face, but as I scanned down that evaporated and my cheeks began to flush a little. Twisting left and right it looked perfect, exactly what I’d imagined. Adding the slippers I gave it a little twirl, the dress spinning up and out, looking at my face it was obvious I liked what I saw.

This wasn’t like the feeling I got when I dressed for a show, for that it was about projecting an image, about feeling super sexy. This kinda made me feel sexy, but more than anything just made me happy, there was this weird tension in my chest, like my heart swelling. I choked a little at the realisation that this was just me, me as a regular girl, in normal clothes, I’d never, ever, had any feeling vaguely close to this dressing in guy clothes. Another mental note made to later discuss with my therapist.

However there was something that wasn’t quite right, these breast forms were great for my shows, looked incredible on camera, but in this dress, they seemed a bit much, probably on the upper end of what it was designed for, and really, made me look a bit out of proportion. Thinking for a few moments of my options.

The dress was perfect, I didn’t want to change it, but it also wasn’t fitting as well as it should, it’d look awful without something filling, so I needed something. I grabbed my phone and pulled up the site I bought these forms from. Going down a size or two to a C cup would probably be perfect, looking at the options they had some premium ones on offer, they were expensive, but I could tell from the photos that they would fit even better, more choices for skin tone and one which matched me almost exactly. Priority shipping, and a few hundred pounds later, they’d hopefully be with me tomorrow.