New Stories: Emotional Perspective Part Three

[danifan]

Right, here's that third part of Butterfly...this was supposed to be the final part but there'll be one more to come. This part is a bit harsh but you have to give your characters some adversity to triumph against, the next part will be more positive!


6. Separation Anxiety

When I got home, I jumped in the shower, towelled off and prepared for a lazy day. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, jumped into an oversized pastel blue sweater I used as dress-like lounge wear and picked up a book to read while listening to some music. I hadn’t been reading long when Kirsten let herself in.
“Hiya, “ I said in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today…”
“Yeah, I know, I just thought I’d pop in, see if you got home okay last night…”
“Uh…sort of,” I replied as I shifted uneasily. She sat down in the chair opposite, leaning forward to talk to me.
“What do you mean, sort of?” she asked.
“Well, I kind of...stayed over at Emma’s instead of coming back…”
“Oh”, she replied uninterested and began flicking through one of my magazines on the coffee table. “What did you two do then?”
“Nothing much…”
I tried to downplay last night’s events but looked away nervously. Kirsten locked her eyes on me.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re lying! Look at you shifting all over the place, what happened, Kiera?”
I looked at her and prepared to deny everything but saw it was futile. She could always read me like a book. I sighed and admitted just a little nugget.
“We had a few drinks and…fooled around a bit…”
“No way!” Kirsten squealed, dropping the magazine back on to the table. “What do you mean, fool around, did you kiss?”
I wasn’t sure what to say but that second’s hesitation said everything.
“Omigod, did you have sex with Emma?”
I threw my arms out, about to deny it but eventually just deflated back into the sofa before asking “PLEASE don’t say anything, she’ll kill me…”
“Omigod”, Emma said quietly. “You see, I told you she wouldn’t say no…”
“Say no, she came on to me! I’d never have the guts to make a move on her!”

And so Kirsten learned of my night of passion. I admitted I was confused emotionally: I felt so content and connected to Emma during the sex, which was unbelievable, but I wasn’t sure how I’d act around her in future, if I’d be more or less attracted to her, if we’d still be friends, all that kind of stuff. As it turned out, it wouldn’t be too much of an issue. Graduation was around the corner and most of the girls, Emma included, were off to college. Until they started their colleges, we all hung out over the summer and I was a little jealous when Emma fooled about with guys at first but soon got used to it. She went off to college and returned four years later, much more mature and engaged: she was the first of us to get married and moved away to raise a family. As I should know, you never can tell…
That was a fairly lonely time for me. My mom had started dating again and after a few losers (one of who treated me like a gay guy, reducing me to tears before my mom dumped him…I loved her so much for supporting me but felt guilty that she had to lose someone over it, even if he was a sleaze) had found a decent man, spending less time at home as a result.
I had a greater wrench from Kirsten though. I could afford to put myself through but wanted to save my money for potential surgery. I had skimmed off a bit for clothes, electrolysis and a few minor luxuries but was saving for imminent breast augmentation and potentially either a slight nose job or full SRS, I hadn’t decided yet. Instead, I attended the local community art college and attended night school for English classes, aiming for a career either in art or publishing. I funded my college fees with a part time job in a local bookshop, only really having time to see the few friends who hadn’t moved away every now and then as they also had their own lives to lead.

Kirsten had moved away to college.

That was my biggest emotional wrench since my grandmother had died. We knew that summer would be our last real time together before the responsibility that comes with adult life would intrude. We hung out pretty much and never really spoke about her impending move. Finally, the big day came. Kirsten had slowly distanced herself from her boyfriend not because she didn’t like him but because she knew their relationship would never survive them attending colleges so far apart and they had undergone a bittersweet mutual split the week before.
Kirsten’s dad was driving her off to college but her mom collected my mom and I in time to see her off. As her dad and Sam loaded the car and her mom chatted with mine, Kirsten and I stood alone in the garage.
“I hate this”, I said sadly. Kirsten stood next to me, putting her around me and touching her head to mine. “Me too”, she said. I dug into my handbag and pulled out a small gift-wrapped box.
“I bought you something”, I said and handed it to her. “Open it…”
She ripped off the paper and opened the box within. Inside was a gold necklace and matching earrings that she had wanted for months.
“Ohhh…” she said tenderly and looked at me, clearly upset. I felt tears welling in my eyes.
“Don’t”, I said “You’ll set me off…” but as she looked at me, the tears began to stream, my chin creased and trembled and we both began sobbing. We placed our arms around each other’s shoulders and hugged until we stopped crying.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I said through my tears. “What am I going to do without you?”
“You’ll be fine… I’m going to miss you too, y’know, you’re my little sister …”
I widened my eyes and gently wiped the tears away, sniffed, coughed and sighed.
“This sucks you know…” I said.
“Yeah, I know…but we’ll call each other, right? And I’ll be back in six weeks…”
My aunt Sarah called us out.
“Come on, girls, the car’s ready!”
We all went as the family hugs continued before Kirsten was finally driven away, my mom and I waving as they went before we followed Sarah back into the house. She put on a brave face and was proud that Kirsten was off to college but obviously she was sad too. We kept her company for a few hours before making our way home. I had mostly pulled myself together but when I went to my room, I was curious to find a small plain box on my bed. I opened it and realised Kirsten must have slipped it in while collecting us that morning. Inside was a lavender-coloured photo frame with a teddy bear saying Friends Forever sculpted in, containing a photo of Kirsten and I together taken on prom night. I sat on my bed as my fingers covered my mouth. My lips trembled and I cried again. God, I missed her.

Still, life goes on and we both adjusted. We called each other whenever we could but usually e-mailed each other, soon setting up web cams to communicate better. When she came home six weeks later, we still remained close and had not really moved apart and our relationship remains as close as it ever was. She moved back after college and got married five years later: I was her maid of honour.
Even so, I was lonely for those years. Although not really concerned about my trans status too much (I was in stealth, although occasionally somebody would recognise me from school and I’d get the odd hushed look), I was still somewhat shy and hadn’t found friends as close as the ones I had in school. I wonder if anybody does really. With my free time eaten up by work and education, I turned to the internet to socialise.
I visited art, music and movie sites but still felt lonely so thought I’d see how other trans people deal with isolation. After navigating through the inevitable porn sites (occasionally stopping if a pretty girl caught me eye!), I eventually found some real trans resources and started frequenting the forum and chat room section of one in particular. One guy flirted outrageously online and I responded similarly, as it was just fun…until he suggested we meet up…

I backed off then as what was just a bit of fun suddenly turned serious. He had attached a photo of himself on a pm to me and while he was quite toned, I just wasn’t interested. He was a guy and just not my kind of thing. On the other hand…

That night with Emma had stirred up sexual feelings I hadn’t known existed within me. This is a broad comment and there are any number of exceptions to the rule but I believe men and women are just as sexual as each other but think about it completely differently. Men are usually fairly self-centred and enjoy sex as a gratifying experience in itself, hunting for a hot conquest to get their pleasure. Women get just as much gratification physically but for them, sex is best when shared with somebody they have feelings, it’s the emotional connection that elevates sex beyond mere rutting for us. Porn is a prime example: men will get off watching some guy relentless power down on some poor bored, faking babe sounding like she’s being murdered instead of actually enjoying herself. Women would rather enjoy erotica, sensual emotions sparking off the urges within.
I was no exception to this as my attraction to girls usually manifested themselves as romantic daydreams rather than sexual impulses. I had the occasional flutter between my legs but had never even pleasured myself until after my night with Emma. I enjoyed that night but was most surprised by how I responded to being invaded by her vibrator. I had always imagined that sort of thing to be painful and uncomfortable but it was actually extremely arousing. I immediately felt my pulse quicken as the vibrator first touched me and felt such deep pleasure when it slid inside. I just wanted to hold on to Emma and let the toy pump away and made me moan in ectasy. It’s hard to explain, but it was the most feminine I felt during that night…maybe Emma was right and women do crave penetration.
I know from that time on, I certainly did and so I inevitably gave in to temptation and ordered a similar vibrator, some lube and a cock ring from the internet (thus saving myself the embarrassment of buying them in person). For a few weeks, I simply massaged myself with it but soon built up such stimulation with it that eventually I began sliding it inside. I would always hold my breath in anticipation as the tip forced its way through resisting muscle and let out a soft moan of delight as it pushed through and slid inside. I would spread my legs wider to allow deeper access, arching my back and gyrating rhythmically. The pleasure would make me rigid and I would bring myself to a swift climax. The sensations I felt seemed unquenchable as I yearned to lie back in somebody’s arms as they slid inside, my legs wrapping around them to pull them in tighter and my arms trembling with pleasure.

I had always fantasised about a woman (the beautiful Kate Beckinsale, curvaceous Scarlett Johansson and Jane Fonda dressed as Barbarella the most frequent subjects of my erotic thoughts) using a strap-on to pleasure me…but as the guy continued to suggest we meet up, I began to think this could be the chance for me to be penetrated correctly and to feel like a sexual woman. Not without some great consideration and every rational part off me screaming “No!!”, I eventually relented to meet Foxxfan for a night of passion.
We made arrangements via the internet and he agreed to make the long drive over to meet me. I didn’t want this going wrong in my own neighbourhood so we booked a cheap hotel room a few towns away from me (which I told him was my home town) and make arrangements to meet in a bar close by.
As the night drew nearer, I began having serious doubts. What was I doing? He was okay looking but I didn’t like guys! I really didn’t want to this…but I wanted that emotional satisfaction that would come with the sex. Was I using him, or cheapening myself, was I slut for doing this? The fateful day eventually arrived and my dithering had seen me make no decision at all, so I was forced to go through with it.
I showered, dried off, did my hair and applied my makeup, going for a warm natural palette rather than a more flamboyant party look. I sprayed on my deodorant and split open a new set of matching underwear I bought a few days before when I was in a more optimistic frame of mind about the night. I slipped on my bra and fastened my suspender belt, the first time I had ever worn one. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I rolled my black nylons over my legs and gently attached the suspenders. As I stood up, I felt the suspenders go taught, adding a slight tug to the top of my stockings that I kind of liked. I walked around for a few seconds, testing the suspenders to make sure they were okay and getting used to the sensation of wearing them. I decided they were fine, rejecting a pair of grey hold-ups I had on standby should I need a substitute, and pulled on my panties.
Opening my wardrobe door, I pulled a black knee-length dress from its hanger, slid into it and pulled on a pair of black boots. Adding a squirt of perfume, I went downstairs, grabbed my tassled cowboy jacket and left the house. As I drove over to our rendezvous in my battered old car (I was still saving my money so could only afford an antique but it got me where I needed to go!), I played some Dido on the CD player as I always found her soft voice relaxing. When I pulled in to the bar parking lot, I saw the car Foxxfan had described and checked the plates, confirming it was his. I turned off my engine and sat there in silence for a few minutes. I still had my chance to back out. I didn’t take it. I should have.

I walked into the bar to find it fairly empty but dimly lit. I glanced around quickly and approached the bar, looking around at the indifferent patrons as I ordered a Southern Comfort and Diet Coke. I took it over to a small corner booth, sipping it as II killed time playing a game on my cell phone.
“Rachel?” asked a voice. I looked up and saw Foxxfan standing with a beer, thankfully easily recognisable from the photo he had pm’ed me.
“Yeah, hi”, I lied (I had lifted the name of Jennifer Aniston’s character in Friends!) and stood up to shake his hand. He took it and leant in to kiss me, but I shied away for a sec before reluctantly allowing him to peck me on the check.
“Wow”, he said as he quite openly looked me up and down, “you look great…”
“Thanks”, I replied and sat back down. He sat opposite me and we made small talk as we finished our drinks, him finishing first.
“Can I fell you up?” he asked “Or would you like to check in first?”
I wasn’t comfortable at all so suggested we go to the hotel. When he retorted with “My kinda gal”, I felt a shudder go through me. Nevertheless, we checked in with no incident and went to see our room. He opened the door and let me in first before locking the door behind us. I leant over to put my handbag down when I felt his hand gently but firmly grasp my buttocks. He stepped closer and began to slowly rub his hands over my butt and thighs.
“You’re hot”, he said and kissed my neck. I put my hands to my shoulders and tried to move away without being rude.
“Can I take my coat off first?” I asked and he allowed me to do so, taking his own off before collapsing on to the bed to take his shoes off. He obviously wanted to get right to it but I was still extremely nervous so I stepped into the bathroom, saying I needed to freshen up but really needing to gird myself for the encounter to come.
When I emerged, he had flipped on the TV and stripped to his boxers. To be fair, he was in better shape now than his photo but still...

He kneeled in front of me and began stoking the top of my calf before exposing the rest of it by unzipping my boot and sliding it off. His large hands continued to rub my leg until he began kissing my knee area, running his hands further up my legs. His hands stopped at my stocking tops and he looked up at me, lust gleaming in his eye as he realised what I was wearing under my dress. He unzipped my other boot and released my leg and began to kiss and caress it before getting up to stand in front of me. I had already slipped my coat off, allowing him to glance over my shoulders and breasts before jerking me closer to him. He forced his lips to mine, crudely shifting his mouth all over my face. He was kissing hard and probably thought he was being passionate but was too aggressive to actually be enjoyable. Although shaven and clean, his stubbled chin scratched my face, turning me right off but still I allowed him to slobber kisses upon me.
Artlessly, he spun me around and unzipped my dress, stepping back to watch it drop to the ground before moving in to kiss my buttocks, passing his fingers between my suspenders and my skin. He spun me back round and looked up at me with an “Oh, yeah, baby, you’re hot.” Actually, I was pretty sure I’d made a big mistake in going through with this as I was not enjoying it all but was determined to persist until we got down to what we were both really there for.
He pulled me down on to the bed beside him, whipping off his boxers as he did so. His hand went to my bra and popped out my breasts before sucking and licking them, guiding my hand down to his engorged cock to start jerking him off. I rarely did this to myself so cringed slightly when I grasped his, but began tugging away slowly. He placed his hand over mine, tightening my grip and speeding up my movements to enhance his pleasure. As I shifted to take off my bra, which was digging in to me, he took the opportunity to whip off my panties.

“O yeah, look at that”, he said when he saw what hell out and began squeezing it until it became semi-erect. I told him to wait a sec, pulled out my cock ring from my handbag and slipped it on. He smiled, pushed me on to the bed and took me in his mouth, making slurping sounds as he sucked my shaft and licked my tip. His whole approach seemed to suggest that he wanted to ingest me, trying to swallow whole parts of me at a time. Can’t say it appealed to me, as I just wanted to get this over with.
He moved up to lie with his cock next to my face, trying to point it into my mouth.
“Did you bring protection?” I asked, as I backed away.
“What?” he mumbled.
“Condoms! Did you bring condoms? I’m not letting you stick that in any part of me unless you’re wearing one…”
Reluctantly, he reached over to his wallet and pulled out a strip of condoms and slid one on.
“There, happy now?” he asked. I’m sure he muttered bitch under his breath but the TV made enough noise to make me unsure if I imagined it. He laid back down suitably protected and so I had no choice but to begin fellating him while he tried to eat my own cock. The condom may have been ostensibly strawberry flavoured but it still tasted like a balloon…never mind though, it was better than the alternative. He began clumsily thrusting his cock as I sucked, nearly choking me but thankfully he soon pulled back.

“I can’t wait, “ he stated, “I want to fuck you now…”
“Thank God”, I thought and pulled out a tube of lube from my handbag. I squirted some between my legs then rubbed some over his cock, ignoring his cooing sounds as I continued to smooth it over. I lay back and he moved next to me, putting his tip to my opening. I placed my hands on his arms and softly said “Please, be gentle, this will be my first time really...” but he just kept smiling as he looked down at his tip rubbing against me. After a few seconds of rubbing, he began applying pressure and started to squeeze his way inside me. I drew in a sharp breath: I wasn’t used to anything of this girth and it was not as smooth as using the slimmer vibrator. Seconds later, he had slowly glided himself all the way inside me.
I let out an audible cry, in pleasure of feeling full inside but also slight pain as my ring was forced open wider than it had been before. “Wait, wait”, I insisted and rubbed some more lube in and asked him to proceed slowly and gently. Within a few soft, powerful strokes, my body offered less resistance and began to accept him more easily, allowing him to stroke inside with slowly increasingly speed.
“Ohhh, yessss”, I exhaled as I lay back in pleasure. Putting up with all this had been worth it as I was able to lie back and savour him inside me. I felt so relaxed, so content, so…feminine. He grabbed my stockinged ankles and placed my feet on his shoulders, slightly leaning in to keep them pinned as he continued sliding in and out of me. I put my hands around his neck to pull my body closer to him, but arched my back and threw my head against the pillow in ecstasy. He was spouting dirty talk but none of it sunk in as I was in my own world of pleasure.
After a while he began thrusting faster.
“Slow down”, I said. “Slow down, you’re hurting me…ow, slow down!” He ignored me and carried on getting harder and faster. I tried shifting my legs away as he began breathing heavier and I knew he was approaching climax.
“Get off of me!” I shouted but he carried on before putting his hand to my collarbone and pinning me to the bed. Before I had realised what was happening, he had withdrawn from me while still pinning me down, whipped off the condom and spun around to wave his cock by my face, masturbating wildly.
“Don’t you---” I began to say but it was too late, he ejaculated and shot over my face, dripping semen over my neck and chest. I screamed in outrage, taking some of his fluid into my mouth and spitting the tasteless warm snot back out before screaming again. Now spent, Foxxfan lay back and I immediately jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom in anger and disgust. I turned on the faucet and washed away all of his bodily fluids, standing trembling in fury and fear. I wanted to cry, to scream, to kill him, but the guy was a bastard. I wasn’t going to let him think he had one over on me so I regained my composure and walked back into the bedroom.
“I hope you enjoyed that, prick”, I said and pulled on my dress. I grabbed my boots, handbag and coat and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I put my boots on and walked back out to my car and drove home.

I drove home in silence, fighting back the tears in order to drive safely. Had I just been raped? Had I led him on? Was asking him to stop without managing to say no still non-consensual? Was I a tease? Did I deserve what had happened? I knew what I had wanted but it wasn’t what I expected…did this serve me right for experimenting sexually?
Ultimately…was I responsible for my own abuse?
I pulled up two streets from home and cried silently for a few minutes. I had nobody to turn to talk about this. Even Kirsten might think I deserved what happened. Upset and thinking of Kirsten I did what came naturally and called her. I tried to sound normal when she answered so we talked for a few minutes before she asked; “Are you okay, Kiera?”
“Yeah”, I lied, “Fine. Why?”
“You sound…I dunno…are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah”, I said but she knew me well enough to know that something was up.
“You’re not”, she said calmly. “C’mon, what’s up? Has something happened?”
“No...well...no, I’ll be fine, honestly, I’m just a little..dunno…lonely? I miss not seeing you around…”
Silence for a second then she replied, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Yeah”, I said. “Listen, mom’s coming in “, I lied, “I’d best go…keep safe, okay?”
“You too…and call me if you need to talk? About anything, okay?”
“I will”, I said, blew her kiss over the phone and ended the call with a sigh.

As horrible as the night had been, I didn’t know at the time that the day leading up to it would turn out to be a subtle but significant step on my journey…

[Protinus]

great as always