So elephant in the room–I’m a trans girl. Not sure if ya’ll are interested in trans sluts (some of you will find “trans slut” to be a needlessly redundant expression, and this story will not disabuse you of that notion) but that’s what this story is about. The events I’m describing are all basically true as I recall them, some minor details have been changed for privacy reasons, some artistic license was taken in writing dialogue. IE, I don’t always remember exactly what a person said, and especially not in the context of this story, as you’ll see. But I’m very good at holding onto the broad strokes of my conversations, the emotional tone, etc., so you can take most of the dialogue to be very close to what was actually said, or in the very least, know that it perfectly captures the spirit of the moment!
**Content warnings:** per the subreddit rules, this post **does not** contain any depictions of non-consent, but there is a short description of what some may consider dubious consent (which involved only me–and to clarify, in retrospect, I consider it to have been **fully consensual**) and descriptions of substance abuse. You’ve been warned!
Right, so I’m a 25 y/o trans girl with a very feminine, passable appearance. I get hit on constantly by straight dudes who assume I’m cis. Cute face, perky B-cup tits, and a nice, thick, fem-and-curvy little behind that guys seem to instinctively obsess over.
I went over to see my FWB, a 37-year-old single straight guy who I started regularly hooking up with after a one-night-stand became too convenient for us both to stay as just one night. I thought it was just going to be the two of us for the night, and full disclosure, he talked me up from a “maybe another night, bby, I’m just so tired” into an “okay, gonna shower and will be over in 10” by promising lots of cocaine.
Indeed, lots of cocaine happened, but to my surprise, the implied FWB sex did not. He seemed to be holding back for some reason, and when two of his friends showed up about an hour later, the reason became obvious. They were both very forward with me and he was very encouraging of it, at one point, gently reminding me that he and I were only FWBs and that I was free to indulge if I found his friends attractive.
Well, normally, I would have kept my panties up with two random guys I just met, believe it or not, but for me, cocaine is like magic panty remover. I tried to push on the brakes a few times, but they both kept groping me, trying to make out with me, etc. Eventually, their repeated suggestion that I should flash them my tits and ass (because they’d never seen trans tits and ass before, at least not outside pornhub or something) started sounding like an amazingly fun and perfectly sensible idea, and I started doing it. Then they gave me some pills which made me feel even crazier. Then they were snorting coke from between my tits and off my belly and from down in my ass crack. Then I was making out with one of them and then the other.
Still, I had enough sense about me (at that point, anyway) to politely decline a trip back to my FWB’s bedroom with either of them. Later, I’m feeling confused because it seems like there’s a guy who I don’t know, and then another and another. I realize I’m actually talking to lots of strange guys and I can’t even find my FWB. I’d find out the following day that he and his two friends were showing off pics and vids they were taking of me and some of their more curious friends were swinging by to have a look at the sexual curiosity they were claiming to have scored as their personal fuck toy for the night.I wound up making out with a random guy in the kitchen after taking some more random pills and doing some more random coke. Random! He got me to take my skirt off (not the first to try, just the first to ignore me and swat my hand away when I tried to stop him from opening up the zipper that ran from my lower back down to the middle of my ass cheeks) and when I tried to pull it back up, he got rough with me and pinned me to the sofa in front of the whole room–everybody was watching us, or it least, it felt that way to me.
He started grinding his cock up between my ass cheeks through his jeans as he yanked my thong down. I tried to pull it back up and he growled into my ear that I’d been a cock tease all night and that it was time to stop playing games. He unbuckled, unzipped, and started to pull himself out, making it clear that he was fine with pinning me and nailing me right here, right in front of the whole room.At that point, instead of standing up for myself, I whimpered to him apologetically that I’d do anything he wanted, but asked if we could please go back to the bedroom. Talk about a walk of shame. Something deep within me felt guilty and totally believed his complaint that I’d been a cock tease. To be fair, I **really had been** hopping around the room, flashing my tits, letting dudes grope my ass with nothing but a dental-floss thong between their hands and my naked skin, making out with whoever, but always stopping anybody short when they wanted more.
I felt like it was actually my fault, at least to an extent, for knowingly whipping the room up into a sexually-frustrated dick-edging frenzy, and at that point, felt shamed into making amends. I also felt weird tingles deep in my belly and pussy as it seemed like all eyes were on my naked, milky white ass cheeks, lewdly jiggling for all to see as I accepted defeat and walked ahead of Derrick, bound for my FWB’s bedroom to make reparations.
We went back and I hastily lubed myself up for him while he dropped his pants and jumped in bed. Literally remember him watching me obediently lube my butt while he was dropping his jeans, this random guy who had to know that I wasn’t exactly saying ‘yes,’ so much as I was saying, ‘no need for this to get ugly, you win, take what you want.’
I tried to get him to put on a condom, and he ignored me, quickly tossing it aside. While he was roughly smashing himself up between my butt cheeks, clumsily searching for my entrance so he could use me like a fleshlight, before he’d even penetrated me, I came all over the bed–loudly. I mean, teeth gnashing, toes curled, thrashing, whimpering, screaming, squirting a ferocious torrent of clear, viscous pre-cum all over FWB’s comforter (I don’t make actual sperm due to years of t-blockers; I orgasm ultra easy, sometimes even triggered into a cum fit by simple words alone, and can do it multiple times in only a few minutes) while his hard cock just kind of pushed against my asshole, testing out my elastic pink ring without actually going in.
I was mortified. He seemed emboldened by my unmitigated demonstration of sexual submission, saying something along the lines of how he could tell what a horny slut I was from the start, how he knew all along that I actually wanted this, and how glad he was that I was finally down to fuck now that he’d slapped some sense into me. I felt my last bit of dignity crushed, my body handing him a final, complete-and-completely-humiliating surrender, right before he fucked me bareback and gave me a huge, deep load.
I tried to get dressed at that point, but was interrupted by another random guy, then another and another. I tried to leave after each of the first few but then just gave up, leaving my sweaty, cummy outfit–a stupidly short skirt that only FWB was supposed to see, an equally slutty thong, and a thin crop top with no bra underneath–FWB’s fave top on me–on the bedroom floor and didn’t hold anything back. Just started slapping my fat, sweaty, cummy rear down on every cock that came back into that room.
Literally lost track of how many dudes came back for a turn with me and how many times I had a ferocious orgasm, eventually just letting them rip and not feeling self conscious about it anymore. At least, not that night, heh.
I was very sore in the morning. Distinctly recognized a few that were laying around the house (still passed out) as having screwed me until I busted all over their cocks–multiple times each. Shamefully got a number from my FWB so I could get ahold of Derrick, the one who had claimed me first the previous night. He’d returned for a few encore rounds with me before leaving early the next morning. He’d said some things to me that made me want to see him again and so I’d sheepishly asked for his number from FWB, who gave me this pitiful, knowing gaze. We texted basically non-stop from that morning until now. Long story short, I went over to Derrick’s house last weekend so I could let this guy (who, let’s be honest, sorta-kinda didn’t really think about consent the first time we did it…so I could just fully turn myself over to his completely uninhibited sexual desires for the whole weekend, refusing him nothing, making it abundantly clear that he had conquered me and could now do anything he wanted with me.) He swung by my apartment twice this week at random and in all likelihood, he’s going to spend Friday night with me. He’s said to me that until he decides otherwise, my ass belongs to him. I’m not to see FWB or anybody else until further notice.
I guess that’s enough raunchy details for one lifetime, eh, girls? There’s so much more I could say about that night, but sometimes a simple recap (with the opportunity for everybody to fill in the blanks with their wildest imaginings) is the hottest thing, right? Feel free to message me if you’d like to chat about the details, etc.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/130bys6/tfmmm_tramphetaminethat_time_i_25_tf_got_really