The Razor, the Tape and the Man

For the first time, I bring you a true story. Not me, though. A kind gentleman, capable of a deluge of flattery and really fucking great ideas sent me this plotline. He's here, though there's not much to see. He says this happened to him. Glad it did.

The razor has no bite to it, but a simple, numbing danger. Jay is handling her completely impersonally, her back against the tiled blue and grey of the shower. He flattens her thighs as he opens them against his palm, only to press the other one away. Her neck is bent against the wall and she’s panting, panting already and they haven’t anywhere near begun yet. She can’t move for fear of being cut and though he has not cut her, will not cut her, she feels the slight wavering in her trust all the same. Her hands are in fists behind her back. He’s not thinking about any of this. He frowns at his duty and handles methodically, half-hypnotized by the tiny detail in it. She doesn’t say a word to interrupt him.

He stops at the last fold before her ass, gives a final check, pressing her pussy lips to examine them, one at a time, then lets them go. He stands, bends the shower water over to himself to straighten his matted hair, stretches his arms and leaves her in the shower. “Clean yourself up now,” he says. She takes the showerhead back to her direction and pours the water over her face until she can regain her control.

When she’s done, nodded at her resolve, had a good grin and exited the bathroom in a towel, she pats, barefoot, to the bedroom and lays down. She covers herself in the blankets and waits there until it’s warm enough to take off the towel. Jay comes in, dressed in a tight t-shirt and low-cut jeans that drop the pockets below his ass. He looks gorgeous as a gay man, but she doesn’t tell him so, doesn’t want to remind him. She’ll find this easier if all of the transition is in her mind, rather than spoken. He moves the towel and pulls the sheet back to reveal her. She looks down too. She has smallish breasts, but they’re still breasts, and the lack of the pouf of pubic hair leaves no doubt that she has no penis. She’s never been what anyone would term “curvy.” She has broad shoulders and barely a dip at the sides. While she looks at this, a new sound appears, one of the rip of surgical tape.

Rrrip.

“Your name will still be Aiden.”

He holds her left breast up and straight and lays the tape across it, just to left of the nipple.

Rrrip.

“It’s a man’s name too. That part’s easy.”

More on the other side of the nipple.

Rrrip. Rrrip. Two more strips on either side.

“Sit up and jump around a bit.”

She does and he nods.

“Good enough,” he says.

Rrrip. The other breast.

“But you’re a ‘he’ from now on.”

Rrrip.

“You’ve got a dick and a hairy ass and everyone’s assumed that you want a girl your whole life.”

Rrrip. Rrrip.

“Sit up and bounce again.”

She does. He examines them for symmetry.

“Lie back. Pull your legs as far apart as you can.”

Rrrip.

“But you don’t,” Jay continues. “You’ve got a secret. You’ve sat through too many sporting events now and you’re done. You want what you want.”

Rrrip.

“Cock, that’s what you want. And tonight, you know you’re getting it.”

The strips are now laid sideways across her pussy, thigh to thigh. He has to pinch the lips together so her clit is untouched. Rrrip. Rrrip. There is something small and smooth now. He pushes it inside her. Rrrip. It’s locked in.

“Plugged,” he says, patting it to make sure it’s flush. “No more pussy.”

A few more strips of tape are pulled and placed for good measure and he stands back to examine his work. “Okay, get dressed,” he says.

She stands and gets the clothes that she hung up on the closet door, a loose flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. She puts them on the bed. One last thing. She’d thought of using socks, the old standby, but decided instead on an oil-filled balloon. She places it across the front of her pelvis and tapes it too in several places. They’re men’s jeans and she only pulls them up to mid-hip. They fall convincingly on the balloon. She stares at the bulge as she would any other she’s ever seen. The shirt is pulled over her head. She combs her short hair flat against her scalp with a bend above the forehead. No makeup, no deodorant, no props.

Aiden looks in the mirror and sighs. He looks hot as a man, he decides.



There’s a man at Aiden’s job who walks with a slight lilt due to a football injury in high school. It’s not unattractive. His bottom just swings a little more on his left leg. His right kicks out and completes the balance with a little flip at the toe. It’s a punishing-the-sidewalk kind of grind, a cowboy thing. Aiden practiced all week and has it down now. He walks to the bar stool, kicks a knee around it and turns himself onto it. His elbows stretch comfortably across the padded edge of the bar, his knees, also comfortably, far apart. He hasn’t said anything yet, isn’t as sure about his voice. Jay orders, the back of his arms flexing as he gets his wallet out of his pants. Aiden watches this and wonders if anyone’s watching him. He takes his cigarettes and lighter out of his wallet and lets them slide to a stop on the bar. He lights one and leaves it in his mouth for a good puff. When he takes it out, he holds it between the inner bones of his fore- and middle finger.

“When did you know you were gay?” Jay asks him, his face turning a little. Aiden wonders if he’s beginning to see him as a man.

Aiden lets out a good cough from the cigarette, hoping loose phlegm will make the slight deepness easier. He can talk, but not loud and with very little air vibrating the vocal chords. He is almost breathy, but it’s controlled.

“I always kind of knew, you know? But I was sure when I got my first kiss. There was nothing. No there there. Like making out with a very large fish.” Aiden takes another hit of the cigarette and thinks. “I just couldn’t wait for it to stop.”

“Uh-huh,” Jay says. He blinked a little when Aiden mentioned kissing a girl. He wondered if this was working on him. He squeezed the thing in his hips to confirm.

“Yeah, that was it right there,” Aiden says. “Gay.”

Jay pauses a while and takes a minor sip of his drink. The Halloweeness of the night is beginning to disappear. Both of them are sure that this is happening now.

“And you want me to fuck you?” Jay says.

“Desperate for it.”

“I can’t believe it took you this long to get fucked.”

“I’m petrified.”

“Oh.”

“I mean this changes everything.”

A large hand lands on Aiden’s shoulder and he turns to see its owner. When the hand landed, an unconscious force drove his shoulders forward in a wince, but he put them back bravely to cover it right away. And he didn’t even think about it.

“My name’s William,” says an effeminate man with a bit of dance in his step and a drunk, eager smile. He holds his hand out. Jay casually looks forward, but listens. Aiden shakes the hand straight on, with a relieved smile when he finds it’s one of those weak wristed shakes. No grab for his small bones.

“Aiden,” Aiden says.

“You’re adorable.”

“This is my partner, Jay.”

“Ohhh. Oops. Jay?”

Jay looks up at William.

“You’ve got a fine man here,” William says and pecks Aiden on the cheek before walking away. Aiden and Jay exchange looks for a moment and Aiden decides to own it.

“Drunk,” he says.

Jay is simply fascinated, lets a small smile edge his lips. He takes Aiden by the shoulders and mashes him in a fighting kiss. Aiden feels that he is a man, kisses hard and rough, biting Jay’s lips and pushing his shoulders. And Jay fights back, holding Aiden by the collar, unnecessary roughness and hooking tongue.

“You ready, rookie?” Jay asks.

“Yes.”

“You ready for your first big cock?”

“Yes.”

“Pay for the drinks.”

Aiden reaches for his wallet in the back of his jeans, perfectly scared and shaking. The same trust faltering as it did in the shower. He’s never loved Jay so much, never wanted to please him so much, to be brave and perfect. He feels what can only be described as a disembodied-limb hard on in his jeans.

On the street, they suddenly realize that they can’t kiss, can’t hold hands. They take their need to touch and filter it into guy-games, kicking the back of each other’s knees out at stoplights, hip-checking each other off the sidewalk, punching the other’s shoulder at a car with one headlight. Aiden punches hard, his thumb out of the fist to save it. Instincts he never knew he had appear. The limped cowboy walk is natural now. He doesn’t think of it. And when he closes his eyes, he sees Jay’s cock, full and three-dimensional huge. He wants it inside of him. He can take it.

At the apartment, fumbling for his keys, Aiden is pressed into the door and he feels Jay’s cock against his ass. Jay bites his shoulderblade hard, slides his hand around Aiden’s stomach, dry-humps him, pointy and meaning it. They are under hypnosis, the fact that it’s not real so unattractive and worthless. They are beyond letting it in.

“You want me to fuck you, boy?” Jay says.

Aiden doesn’t answer. He grinds back for a yes.

Keys are found and mounted into the keyhole. Door is flung open and Aiden, Jay attached to him, are vaulted into the apartment. Bed is reached, Aiden panting like a heart attack, Jay doing the same, mount that. Jeans are disposed of in wrinkled figure eights. Tightie whities are fumbled off. There is ass, bent, eager, frightened in the air. There is cock, its own purpose.

“I’m just going to use my fingers first,” Jay says, a bottle of silicone lube a quarter drained on one hand. “This is going to feel very strange.”

He slips a finger inside and Aiden finds that his first reaction is anger. What the hell is that? That’s not where that’s supposed to be! Another finger is put in. Aiden cringes a bit, fights it, then finds a wash of sex over him. He can do this. Confident that the third finger will be a treat, when it comes the pain is an unwelcome intruder. He pounds the pillow and waits to get used to it.

“Are you okay?” Jay asks.

“I don’t know,” Aiden says.

He leaves the fingers for a while.

“Relax your muscles. All of them. Toes to face. There you go.”

Sex again. Jay moves the fingers, fucks him with them. The disembodied limb freaks out, screams things from “Stop it, what the fuck?” to “Oh holy Jesus on high that is the most amazing shit ever.” Aiden finds himself see-sawing on his knees, encouraging it, though the burning is sickening.

“I want you so bad,” Jay says, and for a moment Aiden is a girl again, feeling sorry for him having to wait.

“One more,” she says.

Four are in and she squeals, then grunts, a man. “Okay!” he says. “I’m okay!”

Quickly, quickly, Jesus quickly, the fingers turn to placeholders and slip out to be replaced by cock. Jay is in pure squishy zip, Aiden in impalement. The two of them freeze for a moment in shock and Jay dips beyond where his fingers were for the point of it. Jay doesn’t want to ask, but does, “Are you okay?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m going to start fucking you, okay?”

“Do it.”

Aiden is full of every thought ever. Aiden is full of fuck you and no really fuck me and things are good and things are too awful to be excusable and I hate and I love and what the fuck is this other thing and don’t ever ever ever stop. Aiden would really very much like Jay to have his dick cut off and Aiden would like to keep it. Here.

“Oh for the fucking Christ what the fuck is I love you and really you just my God,” he says.

“Unggh,” Jay says. Because that is what you say.

Jay stops for a moment, though he doesn’t want to, but knows he’ll be happy he did, and turns on the vibrator in what was Aiden’s pussy. Aiden grabs the pillow and takes it between his arms.

Jay says, “Oh, fuck.”

Aiden asks, “Can you feel that?”

Jay says, “Oh fuck, of course.”

Aiden says, “Go.”

Jay fucks and Aiden comes like a goddamn nuclear bomb. He’s never known this lack of control, this unstoppable surge of orgasm, this wave of ecstasy soldiers crossing his territory. He doesn’t even notice that Jay’s a person anymore and rides him like a needle in his arm. His arms flail and his life stops to record it. That was it. That was the time.

Jay came. Aiden notices it when he senses things again. Jay is bent over him and his cheek is against his back. Full of love, Aiden reaches behind him to feel the familiar rough of his armhairs. He holds them together as he falls sideways to the sheets. She reaches between her legs and turns the vibrator off. Jay languidly opens her thighs and gently pulls the tape off to let it out. They fall asleep in each other’s arms, Jay’s forearm against the left breast in the tape.