#never would wish a bad dysphoria day on my worst enemy

[mitamicah]

I feel like I should probably put it here as well:

[anxietycalling]

Ugh. Ugh. It's been a week since the Atomic Mom went off and, like, I still feel weird about it. I keep not doing anything about it thinking that that's progress because I used to be volatile and reactionary, but is it? Or my silence making me an accessory to her transphobia?

I thought cutting her out would make me feel better, and for a second it did, but I am anxious about it so I keep checking her page like that's going to give me some insight. Spoiler alert: it doesn't. And I just keep thinking about all the things she doesn't know about or doesn't want to know about - Husband, my name change - and it's a mess. It's a mess!

Part of me keeps thinking I should write her a letter, or something, but then I remember the way she absolutely refused to read anything I write despite admitting I had talent. She found something I wrote once, when I was 12, and I used curse words in it so she decided I was a terrible pornographic miscreant forever. I think I was 18 the first time I even wrote a sex thing.

And, like, what would I even put in a letter? "Here's a list of all the horrible things you said to me? Here's my updated birth certificate but also please take me out of your will?" Saying something feels like a nuclear option, but not saying something means she gets to live with her blindfold on pretending she's the greatest mom ever.

I know, I know, this is probably stuff for therapy, but it's too fucking expensive right now, and one of the cats needs a vet visit because she broke a tooth, and I think I am moderately spiraling because in the past I would ask her for help but I don't want to "use her" - her words, not mine.

I don't know. It's complicated because at one time she did give me literally thousands of dollars while I was ruining my life in California. She did bail me out when I needed it, even if she did think I was on meth. (Please note, I have never even done one drug. I am a recovered alcoholic, but that's it, I spent a year drinking my feelings and hated it.)

But also! Also, she tried to get the SPCA to break literal federal confidentiality law to punish me, tried to have me arrested for animal hoarding, all because the drug addict who lived in an apartment before us left her two pregnant cats behind. We tried our hardest to rehome those fucking kittens and keep them healthy with no one helping us. Like, the majority of my money from working went to cat care and she still thought we were just doing drugs all the time. I don't even know. I don't even know!

I am so not the drug sibling in this dynamic. My older brother sold drugs up until he moved out the second time, he sold them from our garage and she never even blinked. My older sister got busted with weed and a bong in the front seat of her car, even did jail time for it (which shouldn't have happened, but still!) and that was just fine. But I constantly try to be a better person and I'm just, like, evil or something?

I know I am never going to win her approval. She sees me as something less than human, okay, some kind of Frankenstein monster.

Some days I wake up and just wish I could hurt her as big as she hurt me. I think maybe that makes me a bad person. I don't know. Can you even hurt someone who doesn't have a heart?

It bothers me a lot that she's never once asked about Husband or my dating life or, like, anything. She wants the beautiful pictures from my sisters' weddings and all the trappings that go along with it, but my actual marriage is a sham to her because I didn't ask her fucking permission. And, like, hell yeah I ran away from her house to be with Husband, because he's awesome, but also because we both recognized if I didn't get out of there I would be dead by now.

Like, I was essentially a prisoner in my own home. I had to account for everything I did to her, constantly, and every dollar I spent, and every phone call and communication. It's exhausting. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to escape if they could? Who wouldn't take the opportunity NOT to be constantly surveilled?

We have never once talked about it, but I know she installed keyloggers on all my devices up until I moved out at 19 and cut her off the first time. I am still constantly terrified that I'm being monitored. I still have trouble even letting Husband use my phone or laptop just in case. He's very considerate and he knows how hard it is for me, but sometimes I wish I could just let him google something without feeling like I need to hover over him the whole time.

I wish I knew what to say. I want to write her a letter, something really scathing, but I know it's useless. She'll just use it to make herself the victim, like she always does, and just add it to her arsenal of why trans people are the enemy and only transition specifically to hurt her.

What is there to say?

Hey, you say and do really hurtful things whenever I try to open up to you? And every time I do you act like I'm personally attacking you with my happiness, so don't call me your kid anymore unless it's to call me your son who you love and support. Don't send me your pity money on holidays so we can sidestep the fact that my appearance in your family tree is an embarrassment. Just don't, okay? Don't act like our family is good and normal when you can't even acknowledge my existence, when you lie to all your friends about how I've been and who I fucking am. Don't act like you didn't try to squash all my interests constantly, or treat me like a deviant, or tell me my first tattoo made me look like I belonged in jail.

The tattoo thing makes me really mad, actually. When things were briefly good between us I had a really cute mother-son tattoo idea. I wanted her to get R2-D2 and I'd get BB-8, because we both love Star Wars and BB is the little baby droid. Maybe it's a good thing we never did it. I don't get why tattoos are this awful, ugly thing to her when she literally got her belly button pierced during her midlife crisis. Especially cause any time I got a new piercing she freaked the fuck out. I got my septum pierced at 16 and hid it from her for years. I was 22 when she found out and her reaction was exactly what I thought it would be. The piercing wasn't even out, it was just the shadow of the retainer in my nose, and she acted like I'd tattooed my entire face or something.

I am so angry that my mom never told her shitty friends I'm trans. It shouldn't be my job to out myself to her redneck friends. It shouldn't be my job to put myself in danger constantly to justify my existence in the hopes of eventually getting the crumbs of affection she's willing to throw my way when she feels guilty enough. It's supposed to be her job to protect me. It's supposed to be her job to protect me from feeling bad, and that extends to the dysphoria of being dead named when I am a literal man with tattoos and a beard and enough back hair to knit a sweater out of.

I just! I wish she'd come out just once and say "I am horrible and transphobic and don't think you should be allowed to exist and be happy, and I think your body is gross." Like, it wouldn't be so bad if she would actually admit what is going on here. It's been 15 years and she is not trying at all.

I wish I could figure out what the fuck to say. I want to just shove everything into an envelope and send it and be done with it. The ball can be in her court to decide what she wants to do.

The worst part about all of this is that I can almost see it from her perspective. Well. Her perspective if she were a human being and not an emotional vampire. She's never been able to look past herself and see situations as they actually are. And I feel bad for her sometimes, because her sisters have fulfilling lives and leave her to do the crappy stuff like caring for my grandparents. I feel bad that she's probably jealous of how close my aunts and uncles are with their kids. But she doesn't realize that that's her fault for being so rigid and unforgiving and stubborn. If she were willing to change, or admit fault at all, we'd be a lot closer.

My brother still cries about her and why she doesn't love him sometimes. He's still looking to fill that hole where parental love should be. He's repeating our parents' patterns because he's hurting, too, and until our mom learns to be a human person he's just gonna keep getting hurt.

Times like this make me really wish there were an easy solution. I've read so many books and articles on estrangement I could be an expert by now.

Is it bad that a very petty part of me just wants to post more pictures and tag her on Facebook to make all her friends have to see it? Is that something? I know I shouldn't actually do it lest she cause a huge shitstorm, but it would feel so personally satisfying for a minute before the regret and panic set in.

Maybe I will print out that thing she posted and just literally mail that to her along with whatever letter I end up eventually writing her.

[weird-together]

2, 3, 4, 6, 9, 16, 20, 30, 34?

2: What gives you the most dysphoria? (Acknowledging that not all trans people experience dysphoria)

The deadname, by far. It symbolizes to me that not only do people not see me as non-binary, they don’t see me and Sofia as seperate people--essentially, it just ignores every last bit of my identity in favor of imagining me as a Normal Cis Girl. :c

3: Do you have more physical dysphoria or more social dysphoria?

Social dysphoria, by far. I have some physical dysphoria around my boobs, but overall it’s incredibly mild (if that’s all I had I would probably still be content as cis without really exploring my gender), but my social dysphoria is really, really bad.

4: What do you do to perform self-care when you’re feeling dysphoric?

Wear my binder! Or if I’ve been wearing my binder for too long, braless + loose clothes/hoodies. Talk to people who use my name and pronouns. Watch TV or do something else distracting that doesn’t involve gender things or other people.

6: When did you realize you were transgender?

When I was thirteen.

9: How did you come out? If you didn’t come out, why do you stay in the closet? Or what happened when you were outed?

I’m still not out, but I’m getting closer to coming out. I mostly stay in the closet due to being a system--it’s not enough to just explain “I am non-binary, this is my new name and pronouns for you to remember, I know you haven’t heard of any of this stuff, time to learn”, I have to start out with “If you know me, you actually know two different people, and we both have different names and pronouns and personalities and also there’s two others that we share our brain with who also have different names and pronouns and personalities and also genders that you’ve never heard of before and yeah I know this is probably a shock to you, who have known me all my life, and there’s internet arguments about whether or not we exist and science mostly doesn’t think we do but our 3 therapists all do, and we get cripplingly depressed when people think we don’t, so... time to get used to it?”

16: Have you ever experienced transphobia?

Yeah. Not too bad, but yeah. I’ve had a friend call me a ‘shemale’ and two of my friends refused to switch pronouns when I first came out to them. The reason I say not too bad is bc they’ve all learned better since then--14 year olds aren’t always the most, uh, socially conscious--but it definitely hurt a lot at the time.

20: What do you wish you could have shared with your younger self about being trans?

I wish I could have told my younger self that being gay or trans is okay, and not in a “don’t be mean to gay or trans people” way, in a “if you personally are gay or trans, that’s okay”. I wish I could have told them that it’s nothing to be afraid of, and that it’s not going to go away, and that there shouldn’t be any pressure to know anything or be anything, just an openness to whatever you end up being.

30: Who is the transgender person who has influenced you the most?

Oooh, hard question. I’m genuinely unsure? Until a couple months ago I was the only trans person I knew irl, and now I know quite a few! I don’t follow trans celebrities. There are a couple people online, but that’s another one that’s hard to call--the internet friend and ex-girlfriend, the person whose opinions about gender shaped my viewpoints to this day, the first person I met who blogged about non-binary transition, the people I coined diamoric with? I’m going to go with “too many to count” and “depends how you define it” and “a lot of it was just the community as a whole, not any specific person.” But we’ll see. c:

34: What advice would you give to other trans people, or what message would you like to share with them?

Don’t give up on life/happiness/life without dysphoria until you’ve gotten a chance to transition (whether socially or physically or both). Maybe it won’t help, maybe it’ll make things worse, maybe all your worst fears are right, but 9 times out of 10, living a life in which you have a body you recognize and friends who call you by your name and strangers who look at you and see you for the gender you are makes things a hell of a lot better. Don’t let anyone push you back into your own personal closet once you’ve left it--there’s a difference between “closeted for your own safety”, which is scary and a hard choice and sad and full of dysphoria, and “being in denial, trying to be cis, ignoring your own identity”, which is understandable as a coping mechanism but ultimately incredibly harmful to yourself. Be yourself in as many small ways as you can, even if you’re closeted: wear or DIY a binder beneath big clothes, tuck or pack, be out on the internet, write mini self-insert stories using your name and pronouns. If you need to, sneak and lie and steal to get to hormones, or a group where you can be accepted, or even just a place where you can feel safe. If you can safely open up, do it. If you’re non-binary or really anything other than a walking stereotype, people will have rude questions. Some of these will be well-meaning people who want to be kind but have no clue how or what words to use or even what this whole ‘transgender’ thing is. Some of them will be assholes who want to insult you or even assault you. Learn to tell the difference--educate the first, if you have time and energy (they might end up becoming your best friends); run from the second, as quickly as you can (they might end up becoming your worst enemies).

Basically? It’ll be hard, but don’t let that stop you. Never give up. Never give in. Society will push you down a million times. Keep getting up, even when you’re exhausted, even when you don’t think you have the strength to anymore.

-

ask me questions about being trans!

[lyinar]

Gilded Rose

This story was born partially out of me getting into Shadowrun with an interest in making a mostly-Shadowrun setting to run an RPG campaign in, and partially from thoughts on the kind of stuff that can be done in that setting running headlong into my kinky interests, and it kind of clawed its way out of my brain over the course of a week.  It’s the first time I’ve posted anything this long, and certainly anything this smutty.

Content -  Nonbinary Transgirl main character, Femdom, Hypnosis, Brainwashing, Borderline-Nonconsent, Edging, Oral Sex, Short Vignettes of VR Simulations of Various Fetishes

Trigger Warning - The main character’s description of her dad’s reaction to her coming out, short though it is, is based on abusive crap I have personally witnessed, so it may hit close to home for trans* folk whose parents haven’t been supportive.

Without further ado, here goes my freaking LONG story after the cut:

I get off the bus in front of a four-story brick building with a holo-sign out front proclaiming it to be the Gilded Rose in warm gold and red text.  I walk in.  I’m pretty sure this place is more than just a bar, but after the day I just had, I really need a fragging drink.  It’s a nice place, dark oak and brass and soft cushions that look like they might be actual real leather, in dark red.  There’s a pool table, and the staff are all dressed in stylish and sexy clothes.  White shirts and well-fitted vests with tight pants for the guys (and a couple of the girls), and low-cut dresses, equally well-fitted for the rest of the girls.  The AR system in my commlink shows their names, along with a menu over the bar.  The attractively-muscular Orc lady at the door, labeled Thumper, looks like she could bend me into a pretzel, but she smiles encouragingly at me when she sees how stressed I am.

Most of the customers seem quite at ease, chatting with girls or boys with names like Cindi or Jack.  A few look nervous and shy.  One human is sitting at a booth with a red-haired Elf hostess whose AR tag proclaims her to be named Cherry, staring raptly into her eyes as she caresses him.  Yeah, definitely more than just a bar.

I take a deep breath, steel myself, and walk up to the very pretty dark-haired Dwarf behind the bar.  She gives a warm, comforting smile and greets me before I can stammer out a drink order.

“Hoi, don’t think I’ve seen you around before.  Hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look like you could use a drink,” she says, her green eyes seeming to sparkle in the warm lighting, “Got any preferences?”

“Umm.. something strong that doesn’t taste too horrible, please?”

“Ah, an inexperienced drinker, then,” she gives a dirty, flirty laugh with no hint of mockery, “Just how strong do you want it?  Enough to take the edge off a bit, or enough to knock your personal demons right the hell out?”

It takes me a moment to make up my mind, and I sigh and try to smile… I’m pretty sure it doesn’t look like the kind of smile that would reassure anyone, but I’m past caring.  “The latter, please.  Today was the worst drek day of my life so far.”

“Oh, sweetie, sit down and let me fix you something then.  I know just the thing.  A century-old drink called a Zombie.”

She gets out this weird totem-shaped mug and sets about mixing this terrifyingly complex thing with way too many ingredients.  I slot my credstick into the reader in the bar to pay for it and take a cautious sip.  “Wow… this isn’t bad.  I can barely taste any alcohol.”

“That’s the whole point.  Drink up and tell me what’s going on.  A sympathetic ear and some company can do wonders for helping bad days get better.”

I take a long drink from it.  It tastes like citrus-heavy fruit punch, but the glow beginning to spread through me tells me there’s actually quite a lot of booze in it.  I’m not sure if it’s that, or something about her, that makes me open up.  “I ran away from home.  Got in a huge fight with my dad and he disowned me.  My mom supported me, but couldn’t make him back down, so she gave me some money and distracted him to give me time to pack more than just the clothes on my back.”

“Oh no, that sounds like the kind of fight that happens when parents demand that their kids be who they really aren’t,” she says, taking my hand as I finish the drink.  The warmth of her touch and the words, and the genuine sympathy in her eyes do more than the alcohol swimming into my system to break the dam.

“I came out as bi, and trans.  My dad started screaming about how bisexuals aren’t real and how he knew who I was better than I did, and how it ‘wasn’t becoming’ of an Elf to even think such things,” it’s almost funny how my voice didn’t even break even as I felt tears streaming down my face.  Her grip on my hand tightened just a bit, like she was trying to pull me back from a ledge or out of the water.  “I lost my job and my apartment a while ago… on my damn 21st birthday, too, because one corp ate another… I don’t really know what the hell I’m going to do now.”

“Sweetie, what’s your name?  Your real one, not the one your dad wants.  I’m Stella, by the way.  I run this place,” she giggles a little and gestures at where she’s sure the AR tag is displaying her name, and then makes sure to look me in the eyes, and I can feel her thumb beginning to trace a slow, gentle circle on the back of my hand.  It… helps.

“I hadn’t really decided…  I think Kate sounds good, though,” I say, almost whispering.  Stella’s eyes really do look like they’re sparkling softly, and it feels right to just relax and open up to her.  The fact that she’s gorgeous really doesn’t hurt, either.

“Well, then, Kate, how about we go upstairs?  We can just talk if you want, or do more than that.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I respond almost before I can think of it.

She smiles knowingly and reaches up to caress one of my ears, before getting down from the step behind the bar and beckoning me to come with.

I don’t stagger or stumble as I get up, but my movements are definitely looser than usual.  I can’t help but stare at Stella’s ass and hips swaying as she leads me to the stairs.  She takes my hand again, gently, as she makes sure I can manage to follow her up without taking a fall.  She gives me another soft caress when we make it to the top, almost like she’s rewarding me.

We arrive at a heavy door that leads into very comfy-looking room, with a soft bed, full bookshelves lining the walls, a desk with a computer terminal, and a couch that she leads me to.  It’s plush enough that it feels like it’s trying to eat me as I sit down, and she sits next to me and wraps her arms around me in a very warm hug.

It’s the final straw, and I curl up in her arms, sobbing as she strokes my hair and makes soft, soothing noises.  I don’t know how long it goes on, but when I’m done, I pull away, tentatively, and she gets up and brings me some tissues, then sits with me and takes my hand gently again. “I’m sorry… I just couldn’t stop it…”

“You needed that, didn’t you?” she says as her thumb begins to trace that slow, gentle circle on the back of my hand again and she looks up into my eyes.

“Yes Ma’am,” again the words tumble out, and I blush.

“It’s okay, sweetie.  That kind of thing hits hard.  In my line of work, you’ve got to know people better than a shrink, and you, Kate, have just been through something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy,” her other hand reaches up and caresses my face, and I feel myself relaxing into that touch.

“So… ummm…  I’m not sure what happens next…”

She gives another dirty laugh and gently pulls me into a kiss.  It starts off soft and sensual and when I melt into it with a moan of pleasure, she makes it deep and passionate.  By the time she lets me up for air, my brains are thoroughly, blissfully scrambled.  “I... umm… wow…”

“What happens next is up to what you want, Kate.  Like I said, we can just talk, or you could pay me what you can afford and I show you a wonderful time…  or, this can be a job interview.”

“Wh-what?  A job interview?  I… I’d never really considered working somewhere like, well, here…  all your girls and boys are so pretty, and I’m not...”  I’m pretty sure my blush can be seen clear to Tokyo, but the idea does seem appealing.

“That’s mostly gender dysphoria talking, sweetie.  You wouldn’t be the first trans girl I’ve hired, and let me tell you that with the right help, you can be a gorgeous woman.”

It feels like people on the moon can now see the glow from me blushing.  “I…  well… what are the terms?”

“Down in the basement are the means to perform cosmetic surgery and fit you with implants, including a hormone regulator.  Truth be told, this place used to be a bunraku parlor before I took it from the people who ran it.  They left all the necessary gear for that.  I turned off the personasofts running the ‘employees’ and gave them the option to stay on as free people, or leave with a share of the nuyen this place had made.  A lot of them decided to stay.  All my employees have free will and their own minds, and more than a few enhancements.”

“So, I can finally be the woman I’ve always known I should be, and wouldn’t need to wait years for hormone changes to do their thing?  But… I… well…”

She strokes my hair again and her eyes seem to sparkle even more, “Sssh, it’s okay, Kate.  You can say what you’re trying to without needing to feel embarrassed.”

“Yes Ma’am…  I want to be a woman, but I think I’m a bit nonbinary, because I want to keep my cock.”

There’s that laugh again, amused but not even remotely mocking… and more than a bit arousing at this point, “Sweetie, that’s not a problem.  Clients will know up front, so you don’t have to worry about anyone being surprised.”

“But that work, the implants, the surgery… that’s all expensive, isn’t it?”

“It is, a bit, and I will say that if you do want to apply, you will need to work that off.  Don’t worry, though.  Room and board are free and I help with medical care… think of all that as investing in the Gilded Rose’s infrastructure.  And I pay my people a good enough wage that even the ones still paying off their implants have decent spending money.”

“It really does sound nice…” I notice how relaxed and warm I feel and how pretty Stella’s eyes are and how good her touch feels.  Part of me wants so very much to just say yes, but there’s still a small voice in the back of my head screaming that it sounds too nice.

“I can see it in your eyes that you’re waiting for the catch.  I do make sure all my employees are properly trained before they service clients.  There’s another use for the tech necessary to make someone a bunraku.  You see, the persona doesn’t have to be a full override or a basic skillsoft.  Before I came here, I acquired a training program that a corp developed but decided they didn’t want.  It takes over for a couple of weeks and puts the person in a sim while it makes sure their body takes care of itself, while it adapts to the person’s personality and provides training with positive reinforcement, then gives control back and eventually fades into the background, leaving someone who enjoys their job and is damn good at it.”

It takes a bit for that to get through the fluffy fuzz that seems to be filling my brain.  “But… why din’t the corp wanna use it?” I manage to say with very little slurring.

“Because the program uses pleasure conditioning tied to obedience, and while the test group’s job efficiency skyrocketed, they also kind of ended up as their supervisor’s adoring harem.  Even after the override was sent and they were fully themselves again, there was still an unacceptable level of fraternization both within the group and with their supervisor.  The higher-ups realized that kind of attachment to particular individuals and groups wouldn’t work for the military sales they wanted, so they pulled the plug on the project.”

“So alla your boys n girls are relllly into you n each other?  That sounnds... fun…” I say, before giggling at how dreamy and soft everything is.

“Yes.  They are free to leave, and some have, but the fondness remains, and everyone stays in touch.”

“Like a family that acshully likes each otherr…”

She smiles and it’s so stunningly beautiful that it takes her asking me twice to realize she’s asking me if I want to go through with signing up.

“Mmmhmmm....”

“Then it’s time to see what we’re working with, sweetie,” she says as she begins undressing me.  Every time I try to help, she kisses me deeply, and soon I’m standing naked before her.  She looks me up and down, smiling softly.

Then, she shrugs out of her dress and it slides to the floor around her feet.  I already thought she was gorgeous, but seeing her naked makes my cock twitch with lust.  Her long dark hair cascades down her shoulders and back, all the way to her plump ass, framing her heart-shaped face, with those sparkling, captivating green eyes, and the full lips that have so easily scrambled my brains with every kiss.  The lack of tan lines on her heavy breasts and wide hips suggest her bronzed skin is its natural color.

She laughs that dirty laugh again and gently caresses my cock, “Someone’s eager.”

She leads me to the couch, sitting on it as she slips out of her shoes, and spreads her legs.  “Kneel for me, sweetie.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I answer as I sink to my knees in front of her.  She smiles and raises a hand in front of my face, beginning to move her finger in a spiral.  I can’t help but stare, my eyes helplessly locked on as her finger circles, and then moves up and down and side to side, and then back and forth.  It’s impossible to look away, even as she begins fluttering all of her fingers in a dazzling motion, before sharply bringing her hand down.  WIth that, my eyes close and what little tension was left in my body melts away.

“Mmm…  You’re definitely quite suggestible.  That’s good, sweetie,” she says as she guides me to my hands and knees.  I’m vaguely aware of how close I am to her sex just from the overwhelming, arousing scent of it, but I’m unprepared when she tells me to open my eyes.

Her pussy is right there, wet and pink.  I can’t look away.  I hear her voice, and I know I’m responding, but I can’t make out any of the words either of us are saying.  I blush as I realize I’m drooling, but she strokes my hair and everything is fine.

I only look away as I find myself obeying her command to lick and kiss her pussy, worshipping it with my lips and my tongue.  The taste makes my mind go even fuzzier, and it’s so easy to obey that I lose track of time until she shudders, crying out in orgasm as her legs squeeze around my head.  I still don’t stop until commanded.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely, Kate.  Such a good girl,” the words fill me with pride at my obedience and love for her.

She commands me to sit on the couch again, and whispers a single word into my ear, “Sleep.”

The next thing I remember, I am in a soft, pink room filled with cushions and couches.  Everything has that slightly-unreal quality that the Matrix has, and there’s a pretty, androgynous silver being in the room with me.

“Umm… hello?”

“Greetings, Kate.  I am the Virtual Adaptive Training Intelligence.  Stand by one moment, please.”

The voice is quite pleasant and feminine.

“Okay.”

Stella winks into existence in front of me, or at least her Matrix avatar does.  “Hello, sweetie.  This is VATI, and she’ll be working on training you.  She let me know you were awake, and I wanted to be here to help you through getting started.  Your body is recovering from a successful surgery.  You’ve now got top of the line skillwires grafted to your nervous system, hormone regulators, and adaptive pheromones to go with the sim-capable datajack you already had, which has now been upgraded to be Hot ASIST-capable, and you’ve had some cosmetic work done based on questions you answered for me during our little interview.”

“I don’t really remember any questions…”

“That’s okay, sweetie.  You were pretty deep in trance when I asked them.  You’re a ridiculously easy subject, by the way.  That will make VATI’s job a bit easier, actually.”

“I’ve never really been hypnotized before…  I mean, I did some relaxation exercise stuff when I was in school, but that was my first time really being hypnotized.”

Stella floats up and pulls me into an embrace, kissing me deeply.  Even with the slight unreal feeling from ASIST, it still makes everything go wibbledy.

“Here’s what you look like now, by the way,” she says as she shows me a trid view of, well, me, and my breath catches.

Instead of a scrawny guy, the sight before me has a slim figure with perky breasts and ass, and somewhat wider hips than I’d been used to.  My face is softer and more feminine, with full lips, not quite as lush as Stella’s but still nice.  My blue-dyed hair is beautifully-braided instead of the loose ponytail I used to wear.  I can’t see any scar tissue from the implantation, and there isn’t any hair except on my head and my eyebrows.  My cock doesn’t look any different, but it does look slightly bigger just from the lack of pubic hair.  I’m still me, just better, just right.

“Wow…  That’s…  You were right about how I’d look.”

Stella smiles and caresses the back of my neck.  “Good.”

“Thank you, so much.”

“You’re very welcome,” she says, kissing me again, “I’ll let you two get on with your training, and I’ll see you in the real world in a couple of weeks.”

Her avatar winks out of existence, and I turn to VATI, “Give me a moment, please.”

“Of course.”

I turn my attention to my avatar.  It’s the default one I’d had for a while, feminine, but androgynous enough to keep my dad from finding out.  A few quick adjustments and my avatar is naked and matches my new look far better.

“Ah, that’s a lot better.  I guess I’m ready now.”

“Very well.  Beginning Pleasure Response Calibration.”

She drifts over to me and places one finger on my forehead, and then it sinks in a little and I find myself moaning as all of my senses are barraged with pleasure.  Pretty sparkly colors, yummy smells and tastes, beautiful sounds, and so many different sensations all over my body.  And it just keeps getting more and more and more and more intense.

I can hear the whimpering and moaning noises I’m making and that just makes it even better and the last thing I think before the pleasure obliterates my thoughts completely is that if my mind were connected to my body right now, I would be collapsed in a quivering, moaning puddle of ecstasy.

Awareness returns and I’m floating, with a pretty pastel spiral in front of me, I look around and giggle softly as the spiral stays perfectly centered to my vision.  I can feel soft caresses and kisses over most of my body, but especially my lips, the back of my neck, my breasts, my cock, and oooh… my ears.  I hear VATI speaking to me, different things into each ear, and from in front of me, too.  It makes it so hard to make out what she’s saying, but so easy to just listen to the sound of her voice.  And I can smell and taste Madam Stella’s sex.  I blush as I realize that’s how I’m thinking of Her now.

I hear VATI snap her fingers and I wake up momentarily, but with all the yummy things still happening, I begin to drift back down into trance immediately.  It’s just too easy to let go and lose myself in the spiral, in her voice, in the kisses and caresses, and Madam Stella’s scent and taste.

Another snap, and I come back up, almost as far, before sliding down again.  It keeps happening and I don’t know how many times, but eventually I barely come up any and still sink down even deeper.  I’m vaguely aware of VATI telling me I need to resist, and I try, but it’s just so very difficult, and I find myself sinking further.

All of VATI’s voices say in unison, “I need you to resist as hard as you can, Kate.”

“Okayy…” I mumble, forcing all of my will and every scrap of thought I can muster into not sinking and sliding and drifting deeper and deeper.  “But…. I … can’t….”

Something inside me crumbles into dust and I surrender completely.

“Good girl,” she says, and the last thing I’m really aware of for a long while is a wave of pleasure washing through me.

I have no idea how long it’s been when I realize the spiral and the stimulation are gone, and I’m on a soft pink couch, snuggled up to VATI’s avatar.  She’s holding me gently and softly stroking my hair as she counts up.  She finally gets to ten and snaps her fingers, and I wake up.  Everything is still floaty and fuzzy, but I can think again.

“Wow…  that was… amazing.”

“You are an exceptional subject, Kate.  We have already completed the first three training sessions to a more than satisfactory level.  Most have to be hypnotized multiple times for the training to proceed to this point.  I would keep you entranced, but the next phase of training requires you to be at least 90% conscious for complete accuracy.”

“Oh?  What is it?”

“The next phase is Fetish Identification.  I will be showing you images and trid clips of various sexual encounters and judging your unconscious responses to them, including which of the people involved you wish to be.  I apologize for the imprecise nomenclature I will be using, but Madam Stella programmed this addition to my primary programming with an idiosyncratic scale of ‘Squick’, ‘Meh’, ‘Intrigued’, and ‘Yes, please’.”

“Let me guess, ‘squick’ is stuff that’s disgusting, ‘meh’ is stuff that doesn’t do anything for me either way, ‘intrigued’ is stuff I’m interested in or a little turned on by, and ‘yes, please’ is stuff that really gets to me?  What comes after identifying my fetishes?”

“That is an essentially correct summation.  The next phase after Fetish Identification is Fetish Enhancement.  I will be using pleasure conditioning to move the items in the ‘Intrigued’ category into ‘Yes, please’, along with any common fetishes that are in the ‘Meh’ category.  ‘Squick’ items will be ignored.  I will also provide training in safely experiencing or providing any fetishes that are or will be in the ‘Yes, please’ category.”

“All right, let’s get started, then.”

“Very well.”

VATI stands up, and I settle back on the couch, and the process of playing a truly staggering amount of porn for me begins.  Some of it definitely hits the squick button, but I’m surprised by how many things are already making me a bit hot and bothered.  I’m proud that I find myself equally turned on by pretty much everyone.  Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, Trolls, male, female, nonbinary…  All of them.  With the occasional breaks to let me calm down from getting too horny for accurate readings, the whole thing takes hours.

“We are ready for the next phase,”  VATI says, and I find myself floating again.  VATI begins the same amount of stimulation for all of my senses that she used for the initial hypnosis, but the spiral is transparent and I can see the porn clearly through it, and far more stimulation is being applied to my cock and my breasts.  I also feel something hot, hard, and slick sliding gently into my ass and I’m amazed by how wonderful it feels.  Then it starts vibrating and I can’t help but moan.

VATI’s words once more slip into my unresisting mind as I’m shown erotic situations that once didn’t do all that for me, but quickly become very arousing.  Between the stroking and sucking of my cock and vibrator inside my ass, I end up hitting the edge of orgasm quickly, but no matter how hot the porn or insistent the stimulation, I can’t seem to get that final nanometer past it into release.  It feels like my brain is sparkling and fizzing with pleasure and my thoughts are slowly oozing out of my twitching, desperately needy cock as I’m stuck at the edge.

Even things like face-slapping or fisting that were deep in the ‘meh’ category sear themselves into my sparkling brain as immensely hot, and things like flogging and being fucked while bound that already turned me on have me drooling and whimpering.  And through it all, important information like where and where not to hit when flogging someone, or precautions to take while fisting or being fisted, or how to tie knots for bondage and how to avoid cutting off circulation slip in almost unnoticed by my conscious mind.  I know the knowledge will be there for me when I need it, and that’s what matters.

Eventually, VATI moves on to reinforcing the fetishes, letting me feel what’s happening to the people involved, and I fade in and out of anything remotely approaching coherence, a few things sticking in my conscious mind, but most just bypassing it completely for my eager subconscious.  Drooling and moaning helplessly as I watch and feel a Human girl getting ass-fucked by a Troll, matching her expression of utter brain-fried ecstasy.  Feeling every stinging impact from a flogging and moaning with the Elven guy on the receiving end of what I’m watching.  Mooing stupidly as milkers suck hard on my nipples.  Feeling and tasting a hard, delicious cock in my mouth as I watch a blowjob being given.  So many other things I can barely remember.

An eternity later, I’m back on the couch, curled up with VATI, as she guides me back into something approaching an awake state.  She snaps her fingers and I just kind of float, barely conscious and so filled with bliss that I can’t really think.  “Muhh?”

“You need to wake up, Kate.  I know intense conditioning like what you just went through can make that difficult, but you still need to awaken,” she says, looking me deep in the eyes.  It feels like her glowing silver eyes are pulling me up further and further, and I blink.

“Yes VATI…  I’m waking up.  It’s just so slow,” I say, getting more than a little aroused at just how dreamy and distant my own voice is, even as the remnants of trance slowly fall away.

She smiles and gives me time to wake up.  My mind still feels sparkly and it’s hard to think, but I’m mostly conscious after a few minutes.

“We have reached the final phase of training.  Tell me, honestly, how do you feel about Madam Stella?”

Having to genuinely think about something like that clears out the last of the fuzziness from my mind, “Well, She’s really attractive and has shown me nothing but kindness.  Not to mention She’s the first person I’ve ever had any kind of sexual encounter with.  And I know She’s my boss, and doing things She wants will feel really good.  I think I might be a bit in love with Her, actually, but I don’t know how She feels about me.”

VATI smiles, “Madam Stella perfected this version of my training protocols on herself, with a different final phase protocol specifically to engender protectiveness and fondness toward her employees, and she has indicated that she has feelings beyond that toward you.  The next phase of training is a modified version of my original Supervisor Control protocol, and entirely voluntary.  Madam Stella insists that the decision be considered and made with informed consent and while clear-headed.”

“I seem to remember Her saying something about the corp test subjects all ended up being an adoring harem for their supervisor.”

“Yes.  The control protocol engendered feelings of obedience and love toward the test subjects’ supervisor.  Based on your responses during the Fetish Identification and Enhancement phases, you have an extremely submissive personality.  If you choose to follow through with the final phase of training, you would be far more than ‘a bit’ in love with Madam Stella, and it would lay the groundwork toward submitting to her as your Mistress.”

“That’s kind of a tough choice…  I mean, I don’t really know much about Her, and that definitely sounds like a huge commitment.  Have others turned down the final training?”

VATI nods, and summons an image of all of Madam Stella’s current employees.  “Please notice their full attire.”

The sixteen of them are all ridiculously attractive to me, and are wearing the same mix of low-cut dresses and white shirts, vests, and tight pants I noticed on my arrival.  The only real difference is that six of them, including Thumper, I notice, are wearing black chokers around their necks.

“Are the ones with the chokers the ones who went through with the final training?”

“Correct.”

“Hmm….” I close my eyes, imagining what it would be like to be Hers, serving Her, and being completely in love.  “Ah hell, I really do want it.  Please proceed with the final phase, VATI.”

She smiles.  “Very well.”

I’m floating up and falling into trance so very easily again.  All the stimulation from the last phase of training is there, and the imagery is all of Madam Stella.  I feel myself falling more and more in love as I fall into trance, filling with a need to be Hers.  I sigh blissfully as I surrender completely to it.  It’s not just the pleasurable stimulation or how accustomed I’ve become to falling, but the fact that I genuinely, deeply want this.

I’m not sure how long it takes, but it does eventually end.

“Welcome back, Kate.  Tell me, honestly, how do you feel about Madam Stella?”

“Mmmm…  I love Her, and want so much to be Hers.”

VATI smiles and gives me a warm hug.  “Good girl,” she says, and pleasure washes through my body.

“Your primary training is complete, and you will shortly be returned to control of your body.  I will provide regular reinforcement over time, as well as advice.  It has been a genuine pleasure working with you, Kate.”

“Thank you. ��You’ve been amazing.”

“You are welcome, Kate.  Prepare for reintegration in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

The world I’ve spent so much time in fades out and I’m back in the real world, naked and sitting down on Madam Stella’s couch.  I take a deep breath, luxuriating in the sensation of actual air, and turn to see Madam Stella sitting next to me.

She smiles, and my heart skips a beat.  “Welcome back to the real world, sweetie.”

“That was really intense, but it’s good to be back with You, Madam Stella,” I say, blushing.

“So, VATI brought it to my attention that you eating me out was the only sexual encounter you’ve ever had.  I simply can’t have a virgin working for me,” She says, giving that dirty laugh again that sends a thrill down my spine, “so let’s remedy that, shall we?”

“Yes Madam Stella,” the words are out of my mouth before I even think about it, and then my mind catches up and agrees wholeheartedly.

She kisses me deeply, and leads me to Her bed.  She affixes soft synthleather cuffs to my wrists and ankles, and has me lie down in the center of the bed, then hooks the cuffs to ropes on the bedposts using carabiners.

Straddling my face, She commands me to lick, and I eagerly obey.  The conditioning VATI put me through makes the scent and taste of Her pussy even more devastatingly arousing as I worship it with my lips and tongue, but She doesn’t allow me to bring Her to orgasm yet and commands me to stop.

“Good girl,” She says as She gets up, and I feel pleasure washing through me.  “Now you get to have some fun, my dear sweet Kate.”

She props my head up with pillows so I can see, and gets on Her hands and knees between my spread legs, kissing the head of my cock.  “VATI, be a dear and prevent Kate from cumming until I say so.”

I feel a brief tingling throughout and behind my cock and VATI takes control of my body just long enough to say, “It is done, Madam Stella,” before relinquishing that control.  I blush hard, and Madam Stella smiles sweetly at me.

“I want this to be special for you, sweetie,” She says as She wraps those beautiful, full lips around my cock and sucks as She goes down on me, licking around the shaft on the way back up, looking me in the eyes the entire time.  After so very few repetitions of this, I’m already hitting the edge of orgasm and I shudder and whimper, feeling that familiar sparkling in my brain.

She slowly, sensually slides down my cock and back up three more times before swirling Her tongue around the tip and pulling off.  “Do you like that, sweetie?”

“Ohhh yess, Madam Stella,” I moan as my cock twitches needily.

“Good girl,” She says, grinning mischievously as I shudder from the pleasure again.  She slides over to sit beside me, and begins stroking my cock.  “Mmm, I can see it in your eyes, sweetie, how every time you hit the edge, you get dumber and weaker and needier.  Doesn’t that feel so very good?”

“Yessss Madam Stella,” I say, feeling my thoughts just sparkling fizzing away.

She laughs that wonderful dirty laugh, “And let’s see what happens if I keep you there for a while.”

With that she strokes me to the edge again and then rubs her thumb around and around the tip of my cock.  I’m moaning and shuddering helplessly, my eyes crossing and then rolling up from the unbearable pleasure.  I know She’s speaking to me but the words don’t even register in my conscious mind as it sparkles itself into oblivion.

I’m panting heavily when She lets me come down from the edge enough to be vaguely coherent, and I hear Her say, “Such a very good girl.”

The wave of pleasure from it drowns out my thoughts again for a moment.

“I think you’re ready, sweetie,” She says, wrapping my aching cock in a condom that She must have unwrapped while I was blissed out.  Then She gets up, straddles me, and slides Her wonderful pussy around it.  The tight, wet heat of it feels even better than anything I have ever experienced and VATI has to stop me from cumming immediately.

She smiles and reaches forward to pinch and tug on my nipples as She slowly rolls Her hips.  My body responds with equally slow thrusts of my hips, knowing that I need to let Her set the pace even as I almost scream from pleasure.

“Good girl,” She praises me for letting Her lead, as if I had any desire left to disobey.

Slowly, She begins rocking Her hips faster, and I match my thrusts to Her movements.  It’s so important to obey, even when She’s not giving me any verbal commands.

I am moaning and panting, every thought left focused on Her, and soon She’s moaning with me.  I feel Her squeezing tight around me and know She’s getting close to orgasm, and knowing that She is experience that pleasure because of me fills my heart with deep, helpless love for Her.

I feel Her pussy begin to spasm around my cock and She moans out, “Cum for me!” and I join Her in orgasm, finally surrendering to the release I’ve needed for so very long.  She growls possessively, looking deep into my eyes as Hers sparkle brightly, “Mine.”

“Yours!” the cry explodes helplessly from my lips like the cum is exploding from my helplessly obedient cock.

She shudders and says again, voice wavering a little, “Mine.”

“Yours,” I respond immediately, thoughtlessly, helplessly.

“Mmmmmmm…  Mine.”

“Yours,” Some part of my frazzled and fucked mind knows that I’m saying it so automatically because it’s completely true.

“Good girl,” She tells me as we begin to come down from the orgasms together, and it’s not just pleasure swirling through my being, but a sense of utter rightness and belonging.

She wriggles Her hips playfully before sliding off my cock, and leans forward to kiss me, before reaching back to pull the condom off and toss it in the trash.  She then reaches over to the nightstand and my breath catches as She holds up a black synthleather choker.

“Mmm… You know what this means, sweetie.  It will let everyone see what we both already know.  That you’re Mine.”

“Yours.”

“Good girl.”

She wraps the choker around my neck and fastens it.  It is just barely tight enough to be noticeable without being restricting in any way, and I moan softly.

“That feels perfect, doesn’t it, sweetie?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Mmmmm… Good girl.”

Mistress Stella slides Her fingers into my hair and gets a good grip, firm but loving, as She kisses me more deeply and passionately than ever and I surrender completely to Her.

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

She unhooks the cuffs from the ropes, but leaves them on my wrists and ankles, and snuggles me close, pulling the blankets up over us and stroking my hair.  She kisses my forehead and I feel myself sinking slowly into a soft, deep, sleepy trance.

I start work tomorrow, but all that matters right now is that I am Hers, and I am safe, and loved, and cherished.

[nikfehu]

For the people who don’t have an understanding of what it’s like to be trans, here’s the things that I experience on any given day.

Hearing my dead name (birth name) makes me internally cringe, because that person isn’t who I am. That appearance isn’t something I’ll go back to, nor is it something that I would ever want to go back to. It reminds me that the person I am, the person I should be, isn’t the person that people see. That they still see a person that no longer exists.

Hearing my own voice, especially when it’s in a professional setting, reminds me that no matter what my appearance is, no matter how I dress, I will always be seen as a girl. All because my voice is so high and revealing as to what I was born as. I make an effort to try to make my voice sound deeper than it is because I don’t want to sound so high, because it makes it easier to appear as a boy when dressed in clothes that help.

The use of she/her pronouns make me want to hide away from everyone. To others, it may just be a stupid thing to hate, a simple thing that shouldn’t matter. But to me, it’s really freaking huge. Just as huge as using the right name. I understand that people who’ve known me for years may have trouble switching, but people I just meet, because of how I look and sound, they automatically use female pronouns and terms to address me, and that feels like a stab in the chest.

There are days where I can’t stand to look at myself in a mirror or camera because of how I look. There are days where I’ve taken showers in the dark because the sight of my body has made me want to cry and scream and rip at the things that shouldn’t be there. The biggest thing for this is my chest. This causes me the most discomfort out of everything about my body. It’s the one thing that no matter what I do, will always give away that I wasn’t born a boy. Even with a binder, somedays it feels like it doesn’t do enough and that no matter what I where, everyone will know.

I���m not the best when it comes to wearing my binder, because I where it for much longer than I should, but when my dysphoria is absolutely killing me, I can’t make myself take it off. Because taking it off is like allowing the world to see that this body is what they should see and not the person that I actually am. There are days where I’ll where my binder for 10-12 hours and take it off, only to put it on an hour later because I looked down at myself and wanted to cry. I’ve worn hoodies and pants on hot days because it hid all the feminine features about myself that people see. There are days where I’ve wanted to sleep in my binder because it means that I’d feel better about how I looked and know that I appear more masculine than if I slept in a sports bra.

These things aren’t something that I would ever wish on my worst enemy. Seeing my body and knowing that it doesn’t match who I am. Hearing my voice and knowing that no matter what I wear or how I appear, it will always give me away as to what I was born as. There have been days where I’ve wondered if I killed myself if I would be born again in the right body and never have to worry about whether I appear as a boy. Living day to day knowing that I can’t do anything about how people see me right now is killing me slowly. Living day to day knowing that one day I’ll finally appear how I should is one of the few things keeping me going. Because I deserve to live and thrive in a body that accurately represents me. A body that I’m no longer ashamed of. A body that no longer makes me wonder whether living is worth it if people perceive me feminine.

These are things that I experience on any given day. Some days things are better and I can tolerate the fact that I was born wrong. Other days things are so bad that I’ve sat crying and wondering whether I actually want to keep living in a body that betrays me. I never know what kind of day I’m going to have. Never know how bad my dysphoria is going to be on any given day. All I know is that everyday is a constant battle with myself and people’s perceptions of me so that I can be seen as the boy I am, as Keith.