Content Note: Gender dysphoria. Age difference.
I feel that in real life, I would have concerns about the power imbalance of age and wealth – but the scene sprang into my head and was too hot not to make into a story. So here it is:
Tam tugged their tight-fitting Entombed t-shirt down straight, and ran their fingers through their short-short hair – naturally dark, unlike the thick black dye some of their friends wore. Their fingerless gloves sported chrome-coloured studs matching the quadruple rows stitched into their leather belt. Skinny jeans and DM boots completed the look. 18 years old, they would be offended at the accusation of being another typical goth or emo kid, protesting their love of punk, metal and other indie genres. The truth was, the aesthetic was what mattered: androgynous, dark, mysterious and “heavy”. The tight clothes also felt like they flattened their curves, easing the sense of being seen by everyone else as a gender that never perfectly fit.
Dating had been a disappointment. Their peer group was full of boys who misgendered them, and girls who weren’t sure what they wanted from them. Fantasies and desires led Tam into online spaces,and there she met: Janine.
Janine. Twice Tam’s age, but more understanding, seeing Tam as themselves rather than a means to an end. Janine, whose talent for teasing and tantalising had Tam throbbing with arousal night after night from their sexting. Janine, outside whose front door Tam now stood and performed their last-minute grooming.
Tam sent a quick text to a friend to say where they were, and that they’d arrived safely. While the sense of transgression and danger was exciting, even arousing, Tam wasn’t so naive as to meet someone from the internet without a precaution or two. Janine assured them she’d had a negative test recently, and Tam was delighted when their own negative result came back just this morning, meaning that their illicit tryst was on.
Janine’s home was more of a mansion, or possibly a villa. Tam wasn’t sure what the difference was. It was big, fancy, and had along driveway up from the gates onto the street. Janine had buzzed them through so Tam knew the older woman was aware they’d arrived, but the door remained closed. They took a deep breath, and knocked.
“Come in, chuck,” a voice called. A clear soprano but with force and a fullness to the tone that Tam hadn’t expected. “The door’s open.”
Tam touched the handle, and true to Janine’s word, the door swung open, silent on perfectly engineered hinges. Vast expanses of polished marble floor stretched before them.
“Take your boots off and leave them by the door. Your socks, too, or you’ll end up slipping and doing yourself a mischief.” Tam peered into the hallway but couldn’t see Janine anywhere. After a second or two, they shrugged and sat on the doorstep to remove their footwear. Tamleft them in the shoe rack they found inside the door. A pedestal presented a bottle of hand sanitiser, so Tam squirted some and spent 20 seconds thoroughly cleansing her digits.
Their bare feet padded with soft slaps on the smooth, cold stone. A broad staircase curved down from the upper floor to open into the hall on the right, ornate double doors stood to the left. At the far end, smaller passages headed off either side. Tam hurried that way, the chill in their feet hastening their steps in a way that eroded the youthful insouciance they liked to portray.
“This way, chuck. Join me in my study.”
Tam followed the voice. The door stood ajar, and again swung open with the lightest touch to reveal Janine.
Where Tam rejected their curves, Janine seemed to revel in hers. Where Tam wore their air short, Janine styled hers into long, flowing waves. Where Tam embraced their hair’s darkness, Janine had dyed hers blonde, with the roots just starting to show through. Janine wore a blue wraparound dressing gown, her hands on her hips and a coquettish grin on her pink-glossed lips.
The study was as splendid as the entrance hall. Broad windows allowed bright daylight to fill the room, silk drapes adorned the walls and there were period-style couches facing each other either side. Janine stood across the room from Tam, in front of a carved wooden desk set up with a writing lamp and laptop. Behind, there seemed to be an art studio set up with a chaisse longue in a curved bay and an easel to one side.
“Welcome, Tam. I’m so glad you could make it. Good journey?”
“Yes, thanks. It’s so good to finally meet you, too.” Tam’s eyes dipped,and flicked up again, darting from detail to detail of their host’s body.
“You know why we’re here, chuck?” The twinkle in Janine’s eye intensified.
“I’m hoping,” Tam glanced upwards at Janine’s face, “We’re going to fuck.”
Janine shook her head.
“I’m not even going to come close enough to touch you.”
Janine cut off Tam’s confusion with a single raised finger. “Everything you will need is in the chest behind the door. Take off your clothes, and bring it here.” Janine pointed at a spot halfway between the door and the desk.
Tam shuffled their feet.
“I’m waiting, chuck.”
Tam’s heart felt like it might just tear their shirt to shreds before they could peel it over their head. They had never liked having their breasts exposed, they felt too obvious and too gendered. They were not exceptional in size or anything, more in keeping with their square-shaped body, but still, noticeable and noticed by others. And yet, the way Janine looked at them, it didn’t feel that way. Janine appreciated them as a part of Tam, not as these sexualised orbs that defined them. Tam could see how Janine’s gaze studied their thick upper arms, their wispy underarm hair, their barely distinguishable waist and their angular shoulders. No one had ever looked at them in such desiring detail before.
It made Tam even more nervous when they moved to unbuckle the studded belt on their jeans. Their fingers fumbled the buckle twice before they could manage it, their relief when the button undid on their first try was like a flood of release. They glanced to Janine and back to what they were doing as the jeans slid over their backside and down their sturdy thighs – eager for confirmation that Janine relished each and every inch of skin being revealed, but needing to concentrate on the job. When it came to teasing the tight denim off, Tam had to look away completely but they somehow knew that even their podgy feet and toes were subject to the same hunger from their hostess.
When Tam stood up again, she saw that Janine’s robe had fallen open, one hand resting on the woman’s inside thigh. The other hand made a turning motion so before they dealt with their bra and panties, Tam turned around to face away from Janine. Or rather, they realised, to show Janine their rear angle. The thought of those devouring eyes scanning their back, their butt, their shoulder blades and their calves, sent hot shivers along their spine and seeping wetness to dampen their crotch. The promised chest sat now in their eyeline, upholstered sides and lid showing it was designed to take a person’s weight. Subtle D-rings on the short legs showing it was designed to keep them there when it did.
But there was no time to linger on that thought. Tam fumbled with the fastening on their bra for several seconds before they managed to ease it down their arms and drop it on top of their jeans and t-shirt. Then it was time to lose their panties.
As soon as they started to push them down, Janine gave a new instruction. “Keep your legs straight, chuck. Bend at the waist like a good little enby.” God, it felt incredible to be called that, instead of – anything else. They couldn’t help but do as they were told, feeling how it presented their arse and pussy to the watching eyes. Tam’s cheeks flushed doubly: from the rush of blood to their head as they bent over, and from the thought of Janine studying their thick, black pubes and puckered anus in equal measure.
Their right hand went to their left wrist, but Janine stopped them. “No, leave the gloves on for now. Bring the box of delights.” Tam straightened themselves and nodded.
When they turned around with the chest in both hands, Tam saw that a large, low Ottoman stool now stood on the spot where Janine had indicated she should bring the box. It glistened,sit was clear Janine had put it there and wiped it down with sanitiser – indeed, Janine was peeling latex gloves from her hands after finishing the task. She must have done it while Tam’s back was turned.
“Put it on the side, chuck, then kneel with your thighs apart.” Tam carried the chest while Janine opened drawers and took out a selection of sex toys, laying them in order on the desk. They placed the chest by the Ottoman then climbed onto the stool on their hands and knees. They hesitated, breathing deeply. This was suddenly more real than they had ever anticipated.
Janine flicked a single finger in the air – left. Then right. Pointed at Tam’s knees. It seemed to them magical how it prompted their obedience, their legs seeming to move without their volition to open and spread their thighs, their knees following the gesture in an urgent shuffle. Their chest rose and fell, mouth hanging open until the same finger made a slow upwards gesture as if stroking someone’s chin. Tam’s chin. As if they felt the pressure physically, Tam closed their mouth, eyes widening in inverse proportion.
“Mirror me.” Janine spread her legs, leaned her butt against the desk, slid her right hand across her thigh to her slit. Tam shivered, but did the same, their left hand stroking from thigh to crotch. Where Tam was natural and hairy, Janine was shaved and bare. Tam was forced to stare at her hostess’s cunt, its sculpted, manicured femininity, while interacting with their own. Or rather, letting Janine interact using their hand. Janine spread her fingers to splay her lips, Tam did the same and felt as though it were Janine, not themselves, who did it. And Janine was staring at their cunt, staring at the way Tam now lewdly showed her their private place.
And then, Janine positioned her middle finger and slid it inside. Tam whimpered as their finger slid inside them. Their hand seemed no longer to belong to them, so focussed they were on their hostess that their awareness of the connection the hand had to their own body receded and its actions seemed automatic, taken without conscious thought. Whatever Janine did to her pussy, Tam echoed on their own cunt.
Janine slid their finger in and out, twisting it round this way and that. Tam bit their lip and whimpered, while Janine performed soft moans. They felt frozen in place, a helpless victim of their own sexuality.
“You can move if you want to, slut.” Janine smiled. And Tam felt released, their hips grinding to masturbation that was tame by their usual needs but now, today, performed under Janine’s command, was almost too hot to bear.
Then Janine slid in a second finger.
Tam let out a small yelp, their right hand clutching hard against the furniture they knelt on. Janine slowed her movements, Tam did the same, cheeks flushed, and stunned at the shame they felt over their wetness, slick and smooth between their fingers. But the mirroring game wasn’t done. Janine’s left hand rose to play with her breast and, after a moment, Tam copied the motion with their right hand. And, once again, conscious thought left the equation. Their right hand became the puppet,the slave, of Janine’s movements. Where Janine squeezed her pneumatic orb, Tam squeezed their smaller boob. Where Janine pinched her puffy nipple, Tam pinched their erect nub, and winced,and moaned. All the while, the fingers in their cunt matching the steady, sensuous strokes Janine gave herself.
Time lost all meaning. Tam’s body thrummed with heat and tension and growing need. The nature of the need only truly apparent when, at last, Janine withdrew her fingers and Tam, bereft, felt their fingers pull out. Their hips continued to hump the air, seeking the penetration they’d just been denied.
Janine lifted her dripping fingers to her mouth, and a beat behind, Tam still mirrored. They knew what was going to be demanded, and it felt so dirty. They’d never tasted themselves before, never seen a reason or desire to, and yet, here, they had no choice. Janine opened her mouth. Tam opened theirs. The wet, juice-covered fingers slid into the mouths, caressed the waiting tongues. Tam watched and copied Janine’s lips close around her fingers, suck and slurp and the fingers mouthfucking in reply. The hot, honey taste of their own slick cunt feeding back and producing more of the same from the source.
Janine wiped her fingers dry on her breast. Tam had to break their gaze to look down and make the same wipe on their breast, but felt Janine’s smouldering eyes drinking in the sight throughout.
“Open the chest.”
Tam twisted at their waist to reach for the chest, but couldn’t help glancing back to Janine every couple of seconds. They lifted the lid. The chest was full of sex, bondage and SM toys of all kinds, sorted into their own compartments. Tam looked at Janine again. Realised that there were deeper, filthier realms than their own kinks had yet explored.
“Choose a dildo, chuck. Make it big and thick. Make me proud.”
Tam peered into the box. From a jumble of vibrators and dongs of all shapes and colours, they found a red monster, not the biggest in the chest but still broader and longer than anything they’d used before. With nervous, hopeful eyes they revealed their choice, looking for Janine’s approval. Janine’s wicked grin was all the feedback they needed.
“Ride it like a slut for me,” Janine’s voice was husky with arousal.
Tam whimpered again, louder than before, as they hurried to push the beast inside them, amazing themselves at how their cunt stretched, how easily the shaft slid, proving how wet their dripping cunt had become.
Janine was already stroking her clit with one hand. “Fuck yourself with it. Let me hear your sloppy cunt, chuck. Show me how much you need sex with me.”
Tam’s whimpers were practically sobs now, the fire burning through their body an inferno of sexual energy with nowhere to go. They thrust the cock back and forth, their hips grinding and forcing down on it, using both hands to drive the base so it pounded into them, over and over. Their whimpers became moans, echoed by Janine who, watching, now had her own plastic cock vibrating in her pussy while her fingers still played with her clit. And yet, Tam knew that the greatest arousal for their hostess was watching their disgraceful, slutty display and that just turned them on even more.
Janine came first. Her back arched and she rose on the balls of her feet and she howled to the ceiling, rattling the desk beneath her buttocks. Tam’s breath caught as they watched. They’d never seen a climax like that before. Never seen someone come because of them.
Janine came down from her peak. Tam’s movements had slowed in awe at their hostess’s orgasm, their attention wholly consumed by the spectacle.
“Take it out.” Tam eased the dong from their crotch, a gasp of intense loss when its absence overtook their cunt.
Janine made the “open the box” gesture again. “Find a bullet or finger vibe, chuck. I’m not done with you yet.”
Tam selected a sparkly violet finger vibe with a shape they’d used before, a curve at the tip that presented a choice of pinpoint vibrations, or using the broader arc to cover their full clit.
Janine smiled at them. “Don’t use it yet. But I want you to have that ready for when I tell you. Now, shuffle as far forwards as you can on the seat, spread those sexy enby thighs and lean back.”
Tam felt how their back arched and presented their breasts, their hips lifted and presented their cunt, they had to bend their head forwards to keep eye contact with Janine. Janine, whose expression was one of wolfish sadism and anticipation. Janine, who bent down, under the desk, and picked up something that had been waiting their outside of Tam’s notice all along.
A pole, 2 metres long with a pink, wobbly, jelly-like attachment on the end. An attachment shaped like a cock.
“Oh, no!” The words escaped Tam’s lips before they even thought about it.
“Oh, yes,” crowed Janine, already advancing with the tip of her weapon lowered and ready to enter. “I’m going to fuck you hard, and deep, and maintaining social distance the whole time.”
Tam bit their lip, not trusting themselves to say the right thing. And then, anything they might have said was irrelevant because they were opening their thighs even further, their hips reaching for that cock, which flexed but found its way home, into their hole. All thoughts of protest vanished.
“Fuck me, Mistress!” Tam’s voice reached its highest register.
Janine was merciless, not just driving the rod back and forth, but twisting it to and fro, varying the angle of attack slightly each time.
“Now use that vibe on your clit, chuck. Drive yourself wild!”
As if Tam didn’t already feel like they’d lost all sense of normality. Their body dripped with sweat, flushed and hungry, riding the remote-fucking cock like they were a beast in heat. They bit their lip and brought the hand holding the vibe round, turned it on, stroked it against their clit. The instant it touched, it felt like electricity jolting from their pelvis to the tip of their head. They lifted their hand away before bringing the vibe back again, slower, ready for it now.
The buzzing filled their ears, the scent of their own sex filled their nostrils, the smooth leather stuck to their quivering thighs, the jelly dildo pounded their cunt and a chill breeze whispered through the room. Only Tam’s vision seemed obscured, blurred and lost in their desperate arousal.
“Please, Mistress! May I come?!”
“Come for me, chuck! Come like the dirty little emo enby you are.”
All at once, the inferno had somewhere to go. Tam screamed and wept, shuddering from toe to fingertip, writhing and spasming, blinded by the tidal wave of ecstasy that went on, and on. They barely noticed Janine take the pole away, or the vibrator slip from their grasp as they needed both hands to keep their balance.
A minute, or a lifetime, later. Tam came down, still naked, curled up on the Ottoman, chest still heaving from their body’s exertion.
Janine knelt on the floor, still maintaining distance.
“Thank you, Tam. You were fantastic. I wish I could come over there and hug you.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. I mean, Janine.”