Best of Both Worlds, by TransChick

Chapter 1

So I want to tell you about a pretty crazy period of my life. Like a lot of fun, exciting things it ultimately couldn't last forever, but I definitely look back on the time with a big smile, and I appreciate it both for how hot it was to be a sub in a BDSM triad and for the fact that it helped me a lot. I'm in a much better place now, and I think a lot of it was because I had the space in a safe environment to sort my life out. From here, it simultaneously seems so far away and like it was yesterday.

To go back to where it started, your sex life doesn't have to stop just because you've got problems, so I had gotten on the computer at the public library and posted a personal ad in a local FetLife group.

> BEST OF BOTH WORLDS

> Submissive trans woman seeks MF couple for fun and sexytimes. At least one of you should be dominant, and I'd love to meet up for fun with impact toys, rope, and other ideas bounded only by our imaginations. (And a safeword!) Hit me up if you want to meet and see if we connect.

Ok, so it wasn't the best ad ever, but with a couple of sexy pics of my cute, chubby self, I sent it off into the world and hoped for the best. Life is too short to wordsmith things to death.

The phrase "best of both worlds" was sarcastic -- some people think of trans women that way, as having the basic sexy attributes of a woman but also having a penis. I probably shouldn't have used sarcasm among folks who may not get it, but it's not like this was a particularly well thought out enterprise on my part.

Oh, right, I should introduce myself. I'm Alanna (I picked that name myself!) and I am indeed a trans woman. I'm also a Scorpio, but I can never keep track of what that's supposed to mean. And I'm an ENFP, which I think backs up the fact that I like too many things to stay focused on any of them for very long. Because that's definitely me.

Once upon a time, I used to think I was lucky or something, because being trans didn't seem like it was as hard as everyone had warned me. I'm never sure how well I pass, but I don't get harassed like some trans folks do. I didn't lose any jobs because I was trans, or have someone refuse to rent to me or anything. Like I said, I thought I was lucky.

But regardless, my life fell apart, and I pretty much just blamed myself. Which is certainly true, but I've come to realize that being trans is an intensifier for problems. All that time keeping who I was stuffed deep down inside me, trying to pretend I'm normal, it made my other problems worse. While I wasn't dealing with who I was, I also wasn't dealing with what else was wrong with me.

See, I had a thing. I wasn't sure what thing it was because I couldn't get a doctor to sort it out for me, but I wondered if it might be ADD. I had trouble focusing, and my trouble focusing tended to mean that I fucked up jobs even when I wanted to try really hard to keep them. I made mistakes, I lost concentration, everything went to shit.

I had another thing, too. I got these anxiety attacks where I kind of freaked out and can't really deal unless I take some vistaril, at which point I'm sedated and I kind of stop thinking or even really being present. Apparently doctors are down with giving out vistaril because it's not one of those benzo-whatevers that people get addicted to.

When my anxiety spiked, I also did this thing where I troed to avoid all my problems and think about anything else, which more or less meant that the worse things got, the less likely I was to be able to fix things. It was super helpful, as I'm sure you can imagine.

So as I was hiding from my real gender in my earlier years, I was hiding from all this other shit too. Which meant that the statute of limitations on people giving a crap about helping me solve my problems kind of expired when I wasn't looking. So at that point I kind of owned all of it and it was an uphill battle to get any treatment. Well, any treatment that helped anyway.

And again, I don't want to make it sound like it's not my fault that I fucked up my life, I'm just saying that being trans and being mentally ill or whatever made everything harder.

So yeah, I lost my job and I couldn't find another one. And I didn't really have savings left at that point, so I couldn't pay rent that month and the big, soulless property company tossed me out on my ass.

Being homeless basically sucked. I mean, I stayed in a shelter, so it wasn't the living-on-the-streets kind of sucking, but it still sucked. I was sleeping on a thin mat on the floor in a big-ass room with several dozen other people. You have to be in by a certain time, lights out at a certain time, up at a certain time, and out on the street again way too early in the morning. And you pretty much have to carry all your shit with you -- if you don't want to drag it along with you, you say goodbye to it.

Most people at the shelter were pretty decent, but there were some who caused problems, and we ended up with the cops there every couple of weeks or so. Some of the problem folks had drinking or drug problems, others just had mental problems too big for them to stay within the shelter rules. As far as I could tell, no one really helped any of these folks get real help for their problems, so they bounced in and out of shelters.

So anyway, I placed a personal ad using the library computer. Public libraries are super useful if you're homeless. And over the next few days, I fielded various responses. Most of them were from trans chasers, of course. And, I mean, look, if you're attracted to trans women in particular, cool. That works out. But if I'm a faceless dick with a pair of tits and not a person to you, well, no thanks. And if you're going to want to dump my ass if I ever decide to change my genital configuration then you're going to make a complicated decision even more complicated, which really sucks.

But anyway, since I was looking for couples, it was really easy to filter the chasers out -- if a chaser has a girlfriend, he definitely doesn't want me to meet her. Beyond that, there were creepy dominant dudes who wanted to impress me with their domliness by ordering me around right in the first email. Yeah, that shit doesn't work.

What does work is responding like a human being and treating me like one, too. There were a few couples in the first batch of messages who seemed promising, but a couple of them flaked pretty early on, and one of them just seemed creepy over Messenger. But I exchanged a few messages with the remaining couple. It seemed like it was worth meeting so we set something up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We got together for coffee at a local Vietnamese place I suggested, just a simple meetup to start. It was a small place with only a few tables, and for some reason it was shaped like a boat. Everything was a little beat-up looking, so it felt like it was lived in. A lot of the local places now were overrun with hipsters, and they were either restored older places or designed to look like they were, but they were absolutely immaculate looking, which kind of spoiled the atmosphere unless you were basically slumming and you expected your quaint little spots to look like they belonged in a magazine spread. Here, there was very little decor on the walls, and it was mostly older photos that commemorated that they'd been open a long time. Judging from what the photos looked like, probably since the 70s.

Jon was tall, maybe 6'2", and was White with a dark, well-trimmed beard that looked good on him. He was a development manager at a local tech company, and seemed to have more social skills than a lot of the computer guys I'd met. Lissa was 5'4" and pale-skinned with freckles and striking red hair. She was a project manager at a different local tech firm. They were both on the chubby side, like a lot of the folks I knew in the BDSM scene, which was great with me.

I easily spotted them from the pictures they'd sent when we messaged. They were dressed in earthtones in pretty typical Pacific Northwest casual, whereas my purple dress and black cardigan were casual, but somewhat hinted at goth influences. Now that I'd transitioned and I could wear what I wanted, I did. I didn't go out of my way to call attention to myself, but I had my own inner sense of what I liked, and my clothes rarely looked like anyone else's.

I walked over to join them. They had grabbed a table near the prow. "Um, hi." I always know how to bust out a cunning icebreaker like that. Well, ok, sometimes I get shy at frustrating times. It's pretty annoying.

"Hello! You're Alanna? So nice to meet you." Fortunately, Jon had more social grace than I did. He smiled and reached out his hand. I shook it, grateful for some sort of ritual to help me settle down a little.

"Hi, I'm Lissa, this is my husband Jon. Please, sit down." Her big warm smile was disarming, and she gestured to the other side of the booth.

"Thanks!" I did indeed take a seat. "Wow, it's great that the sun's finally out today." The weather, really? Nice work, fat girl. (And yes, I really do sometimes call myself "fat girl" in my internal monologue. Some of it's internalized fatphobia, but it's also partially a statement of self-love. As a trans woman, it's glorious that I finally get to be a girl in real life. Even several years after my transition, it's still something I don't take for granted.)

"It really is. We don't get nearly enough days like this."

At that point the waitress appeared with tea and to take our orders. We always smiled at each other when I went there, but we couldn't really converse -- she wasn't fluent in English and I didn't speak a word of Vietnamese. Neither did Jon or Lissa, so we just ordered. Lissa joined me in ordering the noodle salad with grilled pork and Jon ordered a banh mi. The menu items were numbered up on the wall with pictures, so ordering was pretty easy.

I was also the weirdo who insisted on ordering a soda there. I have kind of a thing for diet soda. It's a bad habit. I didn't indulge it very often given my financial situation, but as long as I was splurging on a sit down meal (though admittedly a pretty affordable one) I decided to have one.

After the waitress left, I gestured at Jon's navy logo shirt. "So, Mariners fan? Is it baseball season already?" I was still trying to ease into the conversation and slow my heart rate.

"Yeah." He smiled excitedly. "They're actually pretty decent this year."

"Sorry, I only have the vaguest awareness of sportsball. I barely know which end of the ball they hit."

That got a laugh out of him.

Of course, I do actually know the rules of baseball, from back when masculinity was something expected of me. But now I'm pretty done with sports. I was vaguely happy when one of my old teams did well, but not happy enough to want to watch any of it.

He rattled off some more details about that year's Mariners team anyway. I tried to listen politely, but I couldn't tell you a word he said. I glanced over at Lissa and we shared a bemused look. It was a guy thing and, ok, it was kind of adorable sometimes.

Finally he wrapped up, then took a beat before changing the subject. "So, what kind of thing are you looking for? I know we're hoping to get to know someone and have an actual relationship. Is that something you're interested in?"

"Yeah, definitely." Ok, come on, I thought, I can do better than that. "No, um, it can be pretty hard sometimes to find a couple and have chemistry with both partners. And it's hard to have a relationship that works at all without that kind of connection. I'm ok with meeting someone and just having fun for a little while, but yeah, if the chemistry was there, a relationship would be awesome."

"I know what you mean," Lissa confided, gesturing as she talked. "The first couple of times we did this, we thought, you know, we'd just meet someone. But it's *hard*. Way harder than finding someone to date one-on-one. But we had someone we were seeing for a while last year, and it was *so* worth it, so we keep trying."

The food was really quick. The waitress showed up with our order, complete with a can of Diet Coke and a glass of ice. They didn't sell enough soda to bother with a fountain.

The noodle salad is pretty much what it sounds like -- a salad with lettuce, mint leaves, and basil leaves topped with rice noodles and some grilled pork that has a ton of flavor. I added the dressing and a little extra fish sauce, and I mixed it all up before diving in, and Lissa seemed to be taking her cues from me to do the same.

Jon smiled after trying his banh mi. "This is fantastic!" Vietnam was colonized by the French, and they serve their sandwiches on these wonderful baguettes. Jon's had the same grilled pork and the sandwich comes with some tasty vegetables and a bunch of cilantro that really makes the flavor pop.

We ate quietly for a couple of minutes, but then I continued from where we left off. "As far as dating a couple goes, I've only done this once before, a couple of years ago. Like I said, the chemistry was hard. It was there with her but not really with him. But even for the little while it lasted, it was enough fun that I totally want to give it another try."

"Makes sense," Jon agreed.

"So have y'all dated trans women before?"

"We did once before, one of those times when it didn't work out. She was really sweet, it just wasn't quite right," Lissa said.

"So you learned that it's not like in porn?" I involuntarily winced a little as I asked. People who watch trans porn often have some terrible ideas about what sex with us is like.

"Oh, for sure," she said. "We understand that it comes down to whatever you're comfortable with. We definitely won't ask you to do anything you're not enthusiastic about."

"Ok, cool. Sometimes people get some bad ideas from porn, and things can get pretty awkward."

"I bet, yeah," she said sympathetically.

Jon's phone made some notification sound, so he pulled it out. It seemed like it was some really fancy huge one, maybe a Samsung, but I had stopped keeping track of new phone models some years back. He apologized to me and started whipping through the interface and typing something, though I couldn't tell what.

While he was distracted for a minute, Lissa chuckled and rolled her eyes in a good-natured way, then followed up with, "So, what do you do for a living?"

"Well, I work as a contract graphic designer, but I'm between contracts at the moment. What about y'all?" A basic get-to-know-you question, but kind of an awkward one for me. Hopefully we could move on without dwelling on it."

"Oh, Jon is a Development Manager at one of the big tech firms here," she explained, "and I'm the Office Manager at a law firm. It's a bit hectic, but I like coordinating all the chaos when I'm at work."

Jon had just finished his message and come back to Earth with us. "And you like not having to once you clock out," he added, smiling at her.

"Yeah, pretty much." She smiled back.

"So, what kinds of experiences have you had with BDSM?" asked Jon.

"Well, I had a relationship with a domme that lasted several years, but it started becoming less BDSM-focused over time, and the whole thing kind of fell apart as I worked through my issues and realized I wanted to transition. That wasn't really something she was comfortable with. Since then I've been to play events and such, but I haven't been ready to try another D/s relationship until more recently, and haven't been in anything serious."

"Ouch, that's tough," he said, then took the last bite of his sandwich. Lissa and I both still had some salad left. She had stopped picking at hers, but I was still slowly working on the last of mine.

"Yeah, for sure. What about y'all?"

"Well, we definitely make BDSM a part of our lives, but it's not like we live by some kind of elaborate protocol or something," Lissa said. "We go to work like anyone else, eat dinner like a normal couple, and so on. But there is a subtle D/s feel underlying our lives, and sometimes we do more overt BDSM things. Usually at home, but once in a while we go out to a club and play in public.”

"Oh fun! I've done that before, but it's been a while." Which is because I can't afford the membership fee or non-member cover charge, but it seemed a bit early to share that detail. My finances weren't really anyone's business until there was some reason for them to be.

I tried to move the conversation along. "How much do you practice D/s in how you run your household?"

"Well, he likes to think he's in charge, and I like to let him," Lissa said. She had a playful smirk on her face.

"You're just saying that because you want a spanking when we get home, " Jon shot back, smiling. He looked back at me, "Sorry, I try to get her to behave, but sometimes she's just difficult. What about you?"

I blushed and looked down. "Well, mostly I just like being a good girl."

Jon turned to Lissa. "See, girl? We could use more of that around the house." His smiled as he said it, and I could tell that it was all in fun.

She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh really?" he responded. There was still some laughter in his eyes, but something more serious, too.

He looked back at me. "We'll be back in a minute." He climbed out of the booth and pointed to the floor in front of him. Lissa followed him out and stood on that spot, looking a little nervous, then the two of them walked off toward the bathroom."

I had a little of my soda and fidgeted with the straw a bit as I waited, but the two of them came back after just a few minutes. Lissa's eyes seemed a bit glassy like she wasn't quite as present as before, and she sat down gingerly.

Jon had a satisfied smile on his face. "I'm sorry to make you wait, but sometimes these things can't wait until we get home. I hope you can understand."

"Um, of course." I looked at them a bit longingly.

Jon smiled knowingly. "You miss it a lot, don't you?"

I've always been pretty easy to read. "Yeah, I guess it's obvious, isn't it?"

"Well, if you're interested, we can fix that."

"Yeah, yes..." -- I almost said "Sir," but caught myself in time. He wasn't my Sir yet, so it wasn't my place. Not yet, anyway. "... I mean, yes, I'm interested."

"Oh good. I really like you. And Lissa doesn't let this side of herself show in public unless she likes someone. Isn't that right, girl?"

"Yes, Sir." Lissa still had stars in her eyes.

"That's a good girl." Jon held his hand up to her face and she smiled as she nuzzled it.

"Ok. I think it might be time to get her home. Would you be comfortable with some light play next time we meet?"

I smiled eagerly. Like I said, I'm pretty easy to read. "Yes, I'd love to!” I paused for a moment, wondering whether I had been too enthusiastic. “I mean, that would be great."

"Ok, wonderful. I'll send you a quiz about your interests and limits, and we can use that as a starting point." The waitress had given us plenty of space, but Jon managed to flag down the check as we talked.

"Thank you. It was really great to meet you."

"It was great to meet you too." Jon smiled. "I'm very much looking forward to next time."

He secured the check from the waitress, and I reached for my wallet, but he gestured for me to put it away. "I've got it. Don't worry about it."

I got up to leave. "Ok, well thank you. Talk to you soon."

"Yeah, talk to you soon."

Lissa woke up just enough to say "Bye" as I left. She was clearly still pretty much in la-la-land from being beaten.

Best of Both Worlds, by TransChick

Chapter 2

After our first meeting, I filled out the long survey of BDSM interests that Jon directed me to. We then emailed back and forth some more, discussing limits and other details. Lissa stayed out of it mostly, except for an apology for her poor behavior at our first meeting that seemed like it had been ordered by Jon.

Lissa seemed like a fun person to be around, but I wasn't really sure what she thought of me yet, which made me a little nervous.

Jon definitely seemed like he could be someone I'd want to submit to. That's harder than it seems, because not every Dominant works for me, even people who make good Dominants to others. You just have to feel the connection for it to work.

But still, there were lots of things that could go wrong. "Just see how the next meeting goes," I told myself. "One thing at a time."

But soon enough, we met up again. I stashed my stuff again, since I didn't really want to share that I was homeless at that juncture. There was a space that some of the homeless people used where we could get lockers to store our stuff. You had to volunteer there as a monitor a few times a month, and you could only get in so many times a month (depending on how much volunteer time you put in) but it was nice to have a place to leave things. I had discovered it a while after I'd become homeless thanks to another homeless person, and I kept some extra things there that I'd accumulated. I could also stash my bag there to go do something. It meant that I couldn't get access to my stuff until I came back, so for now it meant that I couldn't change clothes or anything until the next morning when it opened again. I had a little bag with me, but it didn't hold much.

We met at a local play space, someplace that was public and monitored. That's a safer place to do things with someone you don’t know very well yet. If something goes wrong, there's lots of help. Plus, if you're like me, playing in front of others can just be fun. Having others watch me is a turn on.

The Switch was a nice space in the queer district. Everybody was a bit worried about whether it would survive as the city gentrified and the wealthy professionals pushed the poor queers out of the city and into the hinterlands, but so far it was still hanging in there. The crowd was mostly White, but varied in other ways. Folks there were straight and queer, rich and working class. They were pretty used to accommodations for people with disabilities.

Anyway, we met up again at the club. They had gotten there a little earlier, so they welcomed me in and I gave them each a big hug in greeting.

It was pretty dark inside, with a wall that kept the people inside from being visible from the door -- that allowed them to have nudity and fetishwear inside that wouldn’t be street legal.

The lighting was somewhat dim, and the walls were mostly black and designed to fade into the background. There was some erotic art hung here and there, and there were some niches around the perimeter of the room that were decorated for things like medical play and dungeon play. In the back, there was a room with some beds where couples or groups could go for some semi-private sex. (Thankfully they issued each group new sheets and such.) But really, the club was organized around the open space in the center of the main room where most of the public BDSM play happened.

It was pretty early in the evening on a weeknight, so it wasn't very busy. Jon got me in with a guest pass on his membership, but I insisted on paying the guest cover charge myself. It was cheaper than the non-member cover charge and I could pay it as long as I was careful with the little money I had.

We found a nice spot in a seating area and exchanged the usual small talk. Apparently Jon had been busy with a new version release at work. Nothing exciting, just generic stuff going on. I spoke about my life in generic terms to keep from bringing up my situation.

"So are you ready to try pet play like we talked about?" Jon finally asked.

"Yeah, I can do it," I replied. I was definitely nervous, but a lot of my favorite life experiences had happened when I was nervous. I just needed to push through it. It would be nice to go back to my bunny headspace again -- it had been too long.

“Are you comfortable with us watching over you?” He seemed genuinely concerned, which was sweet.

“Sure.” I smiled, took a deep breath, and forced myself to try to relax. “And y’all know what to do?”

“Yep, we’ve taken good care of pets before. Are you ready to get changed?”

In answer, I took off the loose top I'd thrown over things to be street legal and slipped off my skirt and underwear. That left me in just a corset that I thought I looked cute in. It was a simple underbust corset in narrow gray and black stripes, and it didn’t constrain my movement much at all, which made it perfect.

Pet play isn't like being a furry where you wear a big fursuit. (Not that I have anything against furries.) It's usually just enough to get you into the proper headspace. The headspace, feeling like you're an animal, that's the point. You regress to something simpler and more primal, becoming a pet for your owner. In return, you had confidence that they would take care of you. It wasn't normally a sexual thing, but it could lead to a really powerful D/s connection, and tonight we were more interested in trying to connect than specifically in having sex.

I had always identified as a bunny and not as something like a kitten or puppy. I couldn't even tell you exactly why, it was sort of like a sexual orientstion or something -- some things just feel right, others don't. Being a bunny just felt right in a way that puppy and kitty play simply didn't.

Once my clothes were off, I slipped on my ears and my front paws. This was good quality cosplay stuff that I'd bought before I was broke rather than cheap halloween costume gear. They were made from high-quality fake fur and Fortunately, it didn't take up much space, so I'd managed to hang onto it. My paws were designed to be like actual rabbit feet, minus the claws. Which is to say, they were a lot like mittens minus the thumb -- with very little articulation or control of the individual “fingers” -- and they helped me stay in a headspace where I couldn’t just use my hands for things.

When I was done changing, I was down on all fours where I belonged now.

"That's a good bunny girl,” Jon said. “Do you want help with your tail?"

I just nodded. I had stopped talking as I was changing, and started entering the right headspace. When I'm a bunny I don't talk. I don't sit in a chair like a person, I don't read things or reason about things. I react more primally to what's happening and mostly just feel. I can still understand and react to words, but I don't really think about them in the same way. If something comes up where I need to, I can choose to come back out of it and talk again, but it's an actual mental adjustment, something that takes some effort.

Jon gestured to Lissa, and she got behind me with my bunny tail. It was mounted to a decent-sized butt plug, which was comfortable for me and did a good job of holding the tail on. Plus it gave me a nice full feeling that I liked. I moaned a little as she slipped it in.

"That's a good bun," Lissa said. She smiled as she playfully smacked my ass. "Do you want a treat?"

I turned around and went to her. She gave me a baby carrot to munch on, and stroked me. It was nice and friendly, and I moved up close to her where she could pet me all over.

Jon pulled out his keys and tossed them in front of me. Like a lots of bunnies, I liked to play with simple but interesting toys, and I nudged the around with my nose for a little bit. After that, I picked them up in my mouth and tossed them a little bit back toward Jon. It wasn't very far or very hard, just a simple little toss. The kind of thing some rabbits like to do that I sort of connected with. Jon gave me a baby carrot, picked up the keys, and lightly threw them back towards me. We played a little game of tossing them back and forth for a few minutes. Finally I felt like flopping down on my side, and Jon took that as a cue to give me some snuggling and petting which was really nice.

After a few minute of that, Lissa got out a big comforter that they had apparently brought. It was really cool that they had listened to me talk about what kinds of things I liked to do as a bunny, because burrowing in comforters is the best -- as much fun as playing in a box fort. So I dug my way underneath it and just sort of played for a while, batting at it with my paws and rolling around underneath it. Jon and Lissa just let me be for a while, which was sweet and showed that they could be good pet owners. Some folks get really bored at the fact that a lot of pet play isn't about them and would try to recenter things on kinds of play that was more interactive. Interactive play can be part of pet play for sure, but a sensitive owner understands and enjoys having a pet that does some playing just on their own and is happy just to enjoy taking it all in. Clearly that was Jon and Lissa, so things were looking really good for this possible relationship.

After a it I dug my way out of the comforter and started sniffing around a bit, and Jon took it as his cue to invite me up on the couch. Being allowed on the furniture sometimes was a really nice treat for a rabbit. I jumped up and laid across Jon's lap, still on all fours. Jon started cuddling me and stroking me as Lissa moved from a club chair to the other end of the couch behind me, cuddling me as well. She also played with my tail a bit, with me periodically making soft gasps in response and wiggling my hind end at her.

It was still quiet enough in the club that a naked bunny girl in a well-trafficked part of the space attracted a certain amount of attention. I was vaguely aware of that, but it was kind of nice. I had a pretty strong feeling of belonging to Jon and Lissa at the time, and if anything, I felt proud of being shown off like that.

As I said, it wasn't a sexual feeling, but it was something else really primal, something many submissives can feel pretty hard, where you feel safe and taken care of and loved. It's a wonderful, powerful feeling, and the fact that the feeling of being loved and of belonging to someone was only temporary -- I definitely hadn't been accepted as theirs over any kind of longer term -- didn't put a damper on how I felt at all. It just felt right.

After quite a while of this -- I lose complete track of time when I'm a bunny, so I don't really know how long, but maybe an hour or two of bunny time total? -- Jon told me it was time to start coming back to personspace. He gave me a big hug as a started stretching and shaking my head, trying to bring myself back to my senses. It's not the easiest transition to make, but being held definitely helps.

Finally I felt like I was back and I slipped off the ears and the paws. "Hey." I tried out words again, and it seemed like they were working now.

"Hey there. You're back." Jon smiled at me.

i blinked a couple of times to be sure. "Yeah, I think I am."

"That was wonderful!"

"For me too. Yeah." I was still a little bit spacey, but talking was helping me shake that off.

"You're a fun bunny to play with," Lissa added. As she did, she spun my tail half a turn, making me jump and squeal just a little bit. She giggled in response and I looked back at her and smiled. It was all in good fun. Jon looked at her and gestured, and Lissa got up and scurried off. I took the opportunity to slowly sit back up on the couch next to Jon, careful to sit just right so that it didn't jam my tail up my butt uncomfortably.

Lissa reappeared a minute later with a cup of water for me. I thanked her and started drinking it down as she sat back down next to me, her skin up against me and her hand on my shoulder. Contact felt good. The water was also really good -- whenever I come back from a different headspace, I get really thirsty.

I was kind of lost in my own little world when I was in bunny headspace, but as I reemerged, I looked around and saw that the crowd had gotten a little bigger and that I apparently had some admirers. No one was tacky enough to stare, but I could definitely tell that people were at least glancing my way with interest. I smiled back. As long as folks were polite, I liked an audience.

We didn't talk too much as I finished reacclimating. Then Jon finally asked if I was still up for something else or if I was spent.

"No, I definitely think I could do something else. Why, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, I did bring my whip. It seems like it would be a shame to bring it all the way here and not use it." Lissa smirked as he said it.

I laughed. "Well, ok, when you put it that way, it really would be a shame to disappoint it like that."

"Perfect.” He grinned. “How do you feel about the St. Andrew's Cross?"

"Oh, sure, that would be great," I said, as Lissa clapped her hands excitedly.

The area was set up with play space in the middle of the room, and there were some nice toys tucked away against the wall in case someone wanted to use them. One of them was a St. Andrew's Cross, which is an elongated X-shaped cross tall enough to secure a person's arms stretched out above their head and their legs spread apart below them.

As I looked around, there was an older same-sex couple doing a scene where one woman was bent over a sawhorse while her top was beating her with this big purple and black flogger. She was moaning as the thuds landed and they both seemed really into it. Other than that, there wasn't much going on right now. It was really a mixed bag in terms of how much went on on a weeknight.

I undid my corset so that Jon would have more parts of me to target. I loosened the lacing on the back just enough to pop open the eyelets on the front. I had a much fancier corset tucked away, but this wasn’t the night for it.

As I got my corset off, Jon brought the cross out into the middle of the room. There were a few people already doing scenes on some of the other fixtures, but most folks were talking,watching, or just milling about, looking for someone to chat with. I hadn't bothered to throw clothes back on, so at least a few people were looking at me, but the culture here made it impolite to stare.

Under other circumstances, being naked in front of people would make me more nervous. I mean, I'm a chunky trans woman, and I can see a lot of flaws in the mirror. But something about being in a BDSM space makes it ok for me. Maybe it's as simple as that people are supposed to be naked here. And the other folks here didn't have perfect bodies either -- people just were who they were. So I guess if someone didn't like looking at me, they were free to look somewhere else.

Jon finished setting up the heavy cross. I tried to assist, but I wasn't a ton of help now that estrogen had done its work on my muscles. Things I could have lifted easily a few years before had become difficult or even impossible due to hormones.

Once it was set up, Jon asked if I was ready to be restrained.

"Oh, definitely, Jon!" I was feeling my energy perk up and getting excited for the whipping now.

Jon smiled and nodded, and I stepped up to the cross so he could start restraining me. It wasn't really anything that called for elaborate rope bondage, so he just used leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles and secured them to attachment points on the cross. It went pretty quick.

After that, Jon took a couple of minutes -- I think he was finding his whip in his bag and doing something or other with it, but I couldn't actually see. In the meantime, Lissa came up to stand beside me. "Are you all ready to be whipped, little bunny?" She ran a whisper-light finger down my back that made me shudder involuntarily.

"Yes, Lissa, I'm ready." I said quietly. I hadn't been given a term of respect for her yet, so I just used her name. She wasn't my top, but as Jon's actual sub, my assumption was that she still outranked me.

"Such a polite bun bun. That's a good girl." She gave me an unexpected smack on my ass and I let out a little yelp, more out of surprise than because it actually hurt. "You be good for my Sir, little bunny."

"I will, Lissa."

She smiled. And with that, Jon was ready.

Lissa stepped back safely out of the way, and Jon stepped forward to me. "Ok, this is just a little whip because we don't have the space here to break out a big one. See?"

He held out a whip where I could see it. The handle was a couple of feet long, and there was maybe four feet of leather whip with a little piece of leather at the end that would actually be the part that hit me.

"Yes, Jon. Thank you." I tried to be formal and respectful during scenes. It just felt right.

"Cool. Would you like to call me Sir, just while we're playing?"

"I would, Jon." I didn't want to use it until he explicitly gave me permission. Submission is pretty important to me, so I really try to do it right.

"Ok, you have my permission." He was now moving from a more casual way of speaking into a space where he was taking thing seriously and getting into more of a Dominant headspace.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Ok. What's your safeword if you want to stop?" It was important to review this basic checklist before starting, especially with someone new.

"It's 'red', Sir."

"Good. What's your warning safeword, for if we get close to your limit?"

"'Yellow', Sir."

"Very good. Are you ready, Allana?"

"Yes Sir."

"Okay, then." He stepped back, and it seemed like he was lining up his whip or something. I just looked forward into the cross and waited.

It didn't crack like whips sometimes do, it just made a small whap sound. And suddenly a spot on my left ass cheek stung.

"How's that?" Jon asked.

I smiled. "It's really good, Sir." And the thing is, it was. I think most subs like to get beaten because it shows their obedience to their Dominant. But some folks are sexual masochists, and I've always been one of them.

It seems like people who aren't familiar with masochists think that we feel pain more or less like everyone else, we just like that it hurts. But the thing is, I feel pain differently. For whatever reason, it feels good to be hit with that whip. Someone smarter than me would probably talk about how it releases some brain chemical or other and explain it that way. Whatever, I just know that it feels really good. Having someone whip me isn't a sacrifice on my part, it's more like having someone give me a massage or oral sex or something -- it's a treat.

There's definitely pain I don't process that way. Dropping something heavy on my foot or getting a paper cut isn't any more fun for me than for anyone else. And BDSM-wise, being beaten by thin, flexible canes definitely stings in a way that I don't process as pleasure.

Anyway, reassured that I was ok, Jon continued. Establishing a consistent rhythm, he worked me through a set of ten. I could sort of feel that there was some kind of pain in there somewhere, but I was already starting to feel floaty and I started moaning as they landed.

He paused after the tenth. "Still doing ok?"

It took me just a second to find words. "Uh, yes, Sir."

"Good girl," he said soothingly. “Are your hands and feet ok?”

I moved them a bit to make sure. “Yes, Sir.” Restraints can cut off circulation, so a check like this is important for safety.

He started up again, hitting me harder with the whip this time. My body started tensing after each hit and I moaned louder. I tried to mentally count them underneath each moan. The rhythm of it was fantastic -- the blow, then moaning and processing the pain, then onto anticipating the next blow. I think I got up to 12, maybe 15 before I was too gone to count. I was flying, completely lost in the experience. I have no idea how many times he hit me total. Probably 25 or more.

It took me a minute to realize he'd stopped. He came up and put his hand on my shoulder. "Still with us?" I think he might have already said something before that and I just hadn't heard it.

My voice wasn't going to work right then, so I nodded.

"Ok, well, I'm going to give you a minute to come back before I start again." He took a few steps back.

Lissa used the opportunity to come up to me. "Is it okay if I play with you, little bunny?"

I slowly nodded my head.

"Such a good bunny," she whispered in my ear. She rubbed her hand pretty hard over my marks, making them sting again. As I softly gasped, she reached her other hand up and began cupping my breast and tweaking my nipple. "Such a good bunny," she repeated. I moaned and started writhing on the cross.

Lissa eventually switched breasts and shifted to start smacking me with her hand where I'd been whipped. I moaned out, "Oh God."

She smiled and said, "There we go. You have your words back." She stopped playing with me and wrapped her arms around me for a big hug. I leaned my head over to squeeze her hand between my head and my shoulder, the best I could do at returning the hug while restrained like this.

"Are you having fun?" she asked.

"Oh yes, I really am. This is the best." I was definitely still fuzzy, but nevertheless managed to be enthusiastic.

"Good, sweetie. I'm so glad." Lissa squeezed my shoulder one last time and stepped back from me.

"How was that?" Jon asked me.

"Wonderful... Sir." It took me a second to remember protocol in the state I was in.

"Do you think you can handle more?"

"Definitely, Sir." I tried to project confidence -- I really didn't want to stop yet.

“And your hands and feet are still fine?”

I moved them a bit. “Yes Sir, still good.”

"Ok, good."

He stepped back and started whipping me again. My butt, my back, the backs of my thighs, all of it was fair game now. Several times it hit a spot where I'd been hit before and I gasped. When that happened, I had the urge to yank my hands down and rub, but of course my hands were restrained. So I just jerked against the restraints. Jon was probably smiling at that, but of course I couldn't see.

I started drifting off again, but he started varying the time between strokes, which made it harder. But even with that, before long I was floating away.

I'm not sure how many times he hit me total, but it went on for a wonderfully long time. I stopped feeling the individual blows or really anything about what was going on around me. I was just in this safe, wonderful headspace where everything was good. People who experience it call it subspace, and if you're inclined toward submission, it's wonderful.

At a certain point I had some vague sense that it had stopped, but I was still long gone. If anyone tried to say anything to me, it went unanswered. I was just lost in the bliss for a while. I couldn't say how long it lasted, but when I started to come back, I realized that I had the comforter draped around me. I stretched as best I could in the restraints, brought my eyes back into focus, and yawned.

I could see that to one side of me, Jon and Lissa were embracing. When he saw me showing signs of life, Jon gave Lissa a quick kiss and released her, then came to me. "How are you feeling?"

"Mmmmm. Wonderful, Sir."

"Can you still move your fingers and toes ok?"

I wiggled everything and smiled. "Yes Sir, they all seem to be in working order."

"Great. Are you ready for me to release you?"

"Yes, Sir."

He unclipped the cuffs holding my hands to the cross, then unbuckled the cuffs themselves. I took a minute to rub my wrists and stretch my arms in different directions. It was a nice feeling being restrained, but it was pretty nice to be able to move again, too.

Jon then detached my feet from the cross as well and slipped the cuffs off. I did some leg stretches and walked around some, then reached out my arms to give him a big hug. He accepted, and it was a wonderful feeling. After everything we'd done, I felt really close to him.

As we were separating, Lissa reappeared with two cups of water and a bowl of gummy bears, which was perfect. Hydration and sugar were both really important to aftercare.

"Thanks, Lissa."

"Of course, little bunny." She shepherded us both over to a spot on the couch. She sat down next to Jon and sat me down in her lap, with the blanket now draped across my front. She wrapped an arm around each of us.

We sat in silence and snuggled, half-watching a rope suspension bondage scene going on in the middle of the room. There was also a cute gay couple that was using the St. Andrew's Cross now that we'd vacated it, performing some kind of needle play. After the second sort overload of the scene, it was really nice to just sit for a while and let the world go on without me.

After it had been a while Lissa finally said, "That was a really beautiful scene. I loved watching the two of you."

I looked at Jon. "It was amazing. I don't want to get ahead of things or anything, but it seemed like we really connected, Sir." I shifted a little so I could look back at Lissa. "And you were great in the middle, by the way, bringing me back to planet Earth." I reached over and tweaked her nipple really lightly.

Lissa laughed. "Oh really?" I thought she was going to tickle me or something for a second, but instead she got a more serious look on her face, and she reached her arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss. I relaxed into it, letting her take control and responding in more subtle ways. As we kissed, she let her hands roam across my naked body while I touched her through her clothes.

I would have happily let things progress from there, but Lissa pulled away. “Ok, I know you’re completely wiped, and I want to take good care of you, so it’s time to call it a night. Do you have a ride home?”

“Ok.” I pouted a bit, but I knew she was right. It had been incredible, but it would already take me quite a while to recover my energy. “And sure, the bus stops right outside. It’s a straight shot home.”

“Ok good. I hope you want to do this again?” Jon asked.

I smiled “Oh wow, definitely.” Now that we were past the scene, it seemed right to drop the formal style of address I'd been using.

“Wonderful. How do you feel about coming over to our place next time?”

“Oh, that would be great!” I felt like I knew them enough now to feel safe with them in a private space. There are always risks, but this one seemed worth it. And as long as they'd offered, it would be nice not to have to pay another cover charge.

Jon got up and helped me to my feet. I slipped my clothes back on and gathered up the little bag I’d brought. We headed out to their car, where I gave each of them a hug and a little kiss. “See you again soon.”

“Definitely!” Lissa said. “Take care!”

They climbed in the car to take off, and I walked over to the bus stop to wait for the next bus to come by. It was a popular part of town, so it wouldn’t be too long.