Blake was not much of a drinker. Sure, he’d have a beer from time to time at parties, or a cocktail with a nice dinner, but he didn’t care enough to seek out alcohol. Which made the fact that he was now sitting in a bar by himself a bit strange.

He wasn’t sure why he had entered the establishment. He’d walked right past the little hole-in-the-wall bar dozens of times on his way home from work, and he’d never considered actually entering it. Until tonight, apparently. Maybe he just needed to relax after a long week, or maybe he’d been lonely and unstable since his girlfriend broke up with him a few weeks ago.

Okay, it was probably the girlfriend thing. 

She was really nice about it, of course, with empty platitudes about how they could be friends and it wasn’t him, it was her, and blah, blah, blah. But Blake knew the truth— he was a prude. They’d been together for five months and still hadn’t gone past making out. It wasn’t that Blake didn’t want to, per say, but between his dysphoria and Catholic upbringing, he’d freaked out every time things had begun to trend in that direction. 

Twenty-six and still a virgin. Pathetic.

Blake sipped on his rum and coke and glanced around the bar. The place was smaller than it seemed on the outside, and it wasn’t particularly busy. A little odd for a Friday night, but it was still early. Aside from him there were a few couples in booths (ugh) and a couple stragglers. He jolted as his eyes met with those of another.

It was a man, a bit older than Blake, dark-haired and handsome. He wasn’t wearing anything special, just jeans and a black t-shirt, but the clothing fit him very well. He quirked his lip at Blake, amused, who immediately looked back to his drink.

Blake slugged down the rest of his rum and coke, fighting a blush, but it didn’t take long for a body to slide onto the stool next to him.

“Hello,” the man said, “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I, uh, haven’t been here before. First time,” Blake admitted. 

“No? Well, let me be your welcome party. I’m Diego.” The man— Diego— extended a hand. Blake took it, hoping that his hands weren’t too sweaty. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Nobody had ever bought him a drink before, and the prospect made his stomach do a little flip. Blake wasn’t used to attention from men— being a trans man who didn’t bother to pass did that, since he was too masculine for straight guys but not masculine enough for gay men. Most of them preferred to act as if he didn’t exist, sometimes even hitting on his girlfriend in front of him. Ex-girlfriend. Whatever.

“Oh, thank you,” Blake said, “That’s very kind of you.”

Diego looked Blake up and down, slow and lazy. His gaze seemed predatory, but it was enthralling in equal parts. “No problem.” He looked at the bartender. “Another drink for the gentleman here.”

The bartender tilted his head, and Diego nodded. Something passed between the two of them, although Blake couldn’t guess what it was. Soon, another rum and coke sat in front of him. Diego got a beer for himself.

Blake and Diego struck up a conversation while they drank. Nothing too serious, just small talk. Where they grew up, what they did for work. Normal stuff.

As they talked, Blake became aware of a tingling sort of flush spreading through his body, just under his skin. It felt good, really good, but incomplete. Like he was missing something he was supposed to be doing. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and was surprised when he could feel his t-dick rubbing against his boxers, having become hard.

He should be embarrassed about that, right? It had always embarrassed him before, when he had an erection in the middle of a makeout sesh, or (when he had just started T) at complete random.

But he didn’t. It was fine. It felt right. He ever-so-slightly ground his hips down into the stool, igniting a spark of pleasure.

Diego watched him closely. His eyes had grown dark and hungry, and he leaned in close. Blake could feel the warmth off his skin. “So,” he said, “Do you want to take this someplace more… private?”

Blake wanted to go along with him, do anything that Diego asked of him. He started to nod, but then the meaning of his words sank in, and it sent a bolt of anxiety through him. He jumped up abruptly. “No, I mean, I, um, I don’t really do hookups?” The words sounded unsure even to him.

Diego’s eyes widened in surprise for just a moment, before focusing on Blake with intense curiosity. He reached out to rub Blake’s arm. The contact sent electricity through his body, flowing directly to his cunt. “Are you sure?”

Blake’s heart began to pound in his chest. Although it was a momentous effort, he pulled himself from Diego’s grasp. “Yes, sorry. I’m sorry.”

Diego sat back, continuing to analyze Blake with fascination. “That’s just fine. If you change your mind, I’m here most nights.”

“Okay. Sorry. I’m, um, I’m going to leave now.”

Diego nodded, as if giving permission, and Blake ran out the door. He walked back to his apartment, head swimming. The walk home was blurry, and before he knew it, he was in his bed, mindlessly humping fingers shoved up himself, groaning in pleasure.

Blake wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep, but he woke up the next morning to his hips grinding down on his palm. He rubbed at the base of his engorged clitoris, rolling over so he could stroke himself off. The flush he had felt last night had turned into burning, heat and energy that seemed to peak under his fingers as he rubbed himself wantonly. His mind felt fuzzy, like nothing was real except the lovely sensation flowing into his body from his cunt.

The pleasure twisted into a crescendo, and he gasped as he tipped over the edge, toes curled as wave after wave of pure bliss flowed over him. He had masturbated before, but it had never felt like this, never felt quite so wonderful.

Something was missing.

As lovely, as amazing, as perfect as it felt to feel his walls clench as he shoved a finger into himself (and he continued to masturbate after he came, of course, even though his dick was uncomfortably sensitive), it wasn’t quite right. He needed something… else.

He forced himself out of bed, legs shaky, and dragged himself to the kitchen. He could hardly take his hand off his cunt, and slick dripped down his bare legs. Somewhere, in the very back of his mind, he was very grateful that he didn’t have a roommate. He dug through the cabinets until he found a spatula, coated entirely in blue silicone.

Blake eyed the handle hungrily and didn’t even bother to head back to his room before he began to fuck himself with it. Instead he slid down to the floor and shoved the handle of the utensil into himself with a moan, enjoying the burst of pain as the rigid object bumped against his cervix. He pulled it out and thrust it in again, soon setting a punishing pace, his other hand squeezing his dick. 

It still wasn’t exactly right, but it was closer, and damn if it didn’t feel good.

He fucked himself into orgasm after orgasm, brain leaking out like his drool onto the hardwood floor. 

The sound of the door opening brought him back to himself, and mortification briefly overtook the aching need. He couldn’t see the door (thankfully, since that meant whoever had opened it couldn’t see him either), but he could hear the footsteps of somebody entering.

Frantically, Blake removed the spatula from himself, and nope, nope, that wouldn’t do, he couldn’t be empty, before reinserting it but curling himself into a ball on the floor. He hoped that it would be enough to disguise his shame, but doubted it. He barely felt human, more like an animal who was nerves and rapidly-growing libido. 

A bitch in heat.

The footsteps stopped in front of him, and Blake kept his eyes squeezed tight. He knew he must be quite a sight, sitting on the floor in a puddle of his own juices, a kitchen utensil sticking out of his vagina. He braced himself for humiliation.

“Oh my, aren’t you something?” The voice was soft and affectionate, not derogatory. It sounded almost in awe.

Blake cracked open his eyes to get a peek at the figure standing over him. Diego.

Part of him was surprised, even alarmed, but the rest of him was just filled with deep, muscle-relaxing relief. Diego was here. He would take care of him. He was safe. All the tension flooded out of his body.

Diego clucked softly and reached down to lift Blake under his armpits, pulling him on shaky legs to his feet. Blake clenched his muscles tight to keep the spatula as far inside him as he could, although the lack of movement and stimulation to his clit was starting to make him antsy.

“Wow,” Diego breathed, eyes warm with affection as he scanned Blake’s slick-crusted body, “You really tried to hold yourself together, didn’t you? Made it all the way home and everything. I’ve never seen anyone resist for quite so long.”

The soothing tone and feeling of Diego’s hands on his skin was reigniting the burning that had been smothered by fear, and Blake couldn’t help but cant his hips towards Diego. A whimper escaped his throat.

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby. You’ve been so good. You can let go now.” Diego hoisted him into a fireman’s carry and took the two of them to the bedroom. 

He laid Blake down on the bed and removed the spatula from Blake’s pussy, who whined in protest. Diego shushed him and ground the palm of his hand into Blake’s core.

If his own hands had felt good, Diego’s hands felt amazing. Stars burst behind Blake’s eyelids and he moaned, grinding his hips down with as much force as he could muster. Diego’s hand changed positions, and then there were strong fingers on his cock, pulling and teasing at the foreskin. 

It was so good. It was too good. Nothing could be better.

There was the jingling of a belt, and Blake watched through lidded eyes as Diego fumbled to remove it with one hand, hardly breaking his gaze from Blake’s weeping hole. He shrugged off a backpack, having to remove his hand to fully remove it.

“I know, I know,” Diego said in response to Blake’s desperate protests, “But I’ve got some things here you’ll really like. You’ll be cumming your brains out soon, sweetheart, I promise.”

He sucked the slick off his fingers and opened the bag, setting a few items on the bed. Once he had emptied the pack, he returned his attention to Blake, who had resumed fucking himself on his fingers.

“Okay, first we’re gonna give you one of these.” He held up a butt plug, a bottle of lube clutched in his other hand. “You ever play with your asshole before?”

Blake shook their head. He had never understood the point of anal— why would he put anything up there when he doesn’t even have a prostate— but the idea suddenly seemed a lot more appealing. One more hole to fill up; how had he not considered it sooner?

“Flip over.” Diego manhandled Blake onto his stomach, taking his sweet time to fondle Blake’s chest and run his hands underneath his shirt. He chuckled, voice growing dark. “You know, this isn’t just any old plug. It’s specially designed to release more of the drug we gave you last night. Lower dose, of course. As fucking hot as it is to see you unable to keep your hands off your pretty little cunt, it wouldn’t be much use for us if we can’t make you do other things, too. But it’ll keep you fuzzy. Nice and pliable. Easy for me to use.”

The words should have been alarming, but Blake couldn’t focus on anything but the tip of the plug against his anus in a puddle of cool lube, the feeling of his clit grinding down onto the bed. It all felt so good, and how could anything so good be wrong?

“After I put this in, you’ll be mine. Forever. And there won’t be anything you can do about it. So.” 

He pulled the plug away, gently lifted Blake’s hips so he couldn’t get any friction. 

“What do you want?”

It took Blake several agonizing seconds before he realized that Diego wanted him to talk. With words. Was he even capable of that anymore? Could his tongue do anything but pant and moan?

“Please.” Blake eventually whined out. “Please, please, please.”

He could hear the smile in Diego’s voice. “That’s settled, then. Good choice, sweetheart.”

Diego let Blake’s hips back down onto the bed and slowly eased in the butt plug. More sparks of pleasure lit up his vision, and he couldn’t help but let out a high-pitched keen. He was so full, but not full enough, but maybe Diego would do something about that?

As if he had read Blake’s mind, Diego flipped him over once more, maneuvering his hips just so. Blake looked down to see Diego’s cock freed from his pants, swollen and pink with blood, much thicker than the spatula had been. He rolled a condom down over it. “The main event. You’re going to love this, baby.”

Blake trembled in anticipation as Diego mounted him, aligning his length up against Blake's slit, taking a moment to rub the head against Blake’s smaller nub. Blake practically growled at the teasing, and Diego laughed. 

“Impatient, huh?”

Diego sunk down into him, and Blake’s vision practically went white. It was like the whole morning had been preparing him for this, gradually increasing the amount of pleasure that Blake was capable of just so that he could handle this, this perfect, exalted, delirious thrill. He never wanted to experience anything else ever again. If he could be speared with a cock forever, he would die happy.

He was being fucked, hard, and whatever was left of the Blake from last night realized that he was losing his virginity. Not, as he had imagined, in some romantic, soft way with somebody he trusted, but animalistic and fiery with somebody he barely even knew. 

And it didn’t matter. It was perfect. He was made for this.

Blake came.

And came.

And came.