For Rent Pt. 04

Author's note: Please familiarise yourself with the previous parts to fully understand where we're at.

Chapter 8: Aftermath

Tyler sat at home in the half-light, the glow of the screen washing his face in a pale blue tint. The Noir homepage was open on one tab. Refresh. Still no trailer. He clicked away quickly, opening up a betting site--checking NBA odds, scrolling the lines even though he hadn't placed a bet in days. A small victory. Then another tab: Reddit. A question thread he kept returning to, What does it mean when a straight man sleeps with a trans woman? He didn't read it again but didn't close it either.

He toggled back to Noir. Refresh. Still nothing.

They usually uploaded trailers the same day. They always tagged him, Victoria too. He wondered if she'd already seen it. If she was thinking about it now the way he was.

That was when his phone buzzed.

He ignored it at first, thinking it might be spam--or worse, another message from his ex, Lexie. But it buzzed again. When he glanced down, the number was unfamiliar.

"Hey Tyler, it's Victoria. Hope this isn't weird, but I was thinking about you and wondered if you wanna grab a coffee or something? I thought it might be good to talk."

Victoria. Just the name made his heart race and his stomach twist. The stills from their shoot flashed through his mind in a rush--her fingers on his stomach, the wet drag of her tongue, the tight clutch of her thighs around his hips. But more than that--the way she'd looked at him.

He studied the message. He started typing. Deleted. Tried again. Deleted. Tried again.

"Yeah, sure. But maybe not near my place? Somewhere neutral would be better."

Her reply came fast:

"Sure, anywhere you prefer. Promise I won't bite. ;)"

He stared at the winking emoji.

He picked a quiet café on the other side of town. Out of the way, somewhere no one would recognise him. He sent her the address and she replied instantly: "Perfect. Tomorrow at 1 okay?"

He didn't overthink it. Just sent: "Yeah."

Then he set his phone down and went back to the Noir tab. Refresh.

Had she already seen it? Maybe they'd sent it to her early because she's the star? Was that why she reached out?

He hovered the cursor back over her profile. Her face stared back in the thumbnail--an earlier video, more than a year old. She looked different then. Less polished. Less sure. He clicked.

The video page opened up but he didn't press play. The frozen preview frame, her mouth slightly parted, eyes half-closed. This wasn't the Victoria who'd been wrapped around him just hours earlier, whispering in his ear, digging her nails into his back. There was a softness to her face and a naivety in her expression that Tyler couldn't tell if that was who she was or whether she was just so good a playing her part, "Shy Trans Woman Finds Her Way". He paused, cursor hovering over the play button, heart racing.

Then he snapped the laptop shut.

Chapter 9: The Mirror

The following day, Tyler arrived early, the aroma of fresh coffee wrapping around him as he sat quietly at a corner table near the back. The muted hum of distant conversation and the soft hiss of espresso machines filled the air. He watched the doorway nervously, his fingers drumming lightly against the side of his cup.

When Victoria stepped inside he felt a tightening in his chest. She moved through the café with a confident yet quiet elegance, her dark hair gently bouncing around her shoulders. She wore a soft cream coat over a charcoal jumper that clung delicately to the subtle curves of her chest. Her cheekbones were high and defined, a touch of gloss catching the light on her lips. She didn't need to be flashy to be stunning. She just was.

Her presence drew the attention of several customers, though she seemed either unaware or unbothered by the gazes following her movements. Tyler felt an odd pang of pride mixed with anxiety, his gaze fixed on her approach.

She spotted him almost immediately, her smile warm and welcoming. He rose uncertainly as she reached the table, not sure how to greet her. Yesterday she'd had his cock in her mouth; today he was lost for words. Victoria, effortlessly resolving his hesitation, placed a hand on his arm, squeezing gently in silent reassurance.

"Tyler," she greeted softly, her voice warm and soothing. "I'm really glad you came."

He forced himself to smile, nodding slightly. "Me too, I think," he murmured, unsure exactly how true that was.

They both sat, an awkward silence briefly hanging between them before Victoria broke it with practiced ease. "Look, I know reaching out like this is a bit forward, but I thought maybe you'd want to talk. After everything that's happened..." She paused, eyes searching his face carefully. "It can be pretty overwhelming."

Tyler shifted uncomfortably, suddenly intensely aware of her gaze, the gentleness of her expression. He cleared his throat softly, fingers tapping nervously against his coffee cup. "It was just... unexpected. I don't really know what we're supposed to talk about."

Victoria leaned forward slightly, her expression softening further, almost protective but also perceptive, she seemed to be looking right through him. Knowing.

"I remember exactly how that feels--the confusion, the vulnerability. My first time in front of those cameras was intense. Even scary. I thought maybe you could use someone who understands."

He looked up more cautiously this time, the wall of defensiveness still there, but thinner.

"It's not confusing," he murmured. "I'm not confused. I did it because I had to."

Victoria tilted her head. "Had to?"

Tyler paused for a moment. Perhaps it was because she'd been in a similar situation--or because he had nobody else to talk to--or just because any man would find it hard looking into her eyes and not giving her what she wanted - but he wanted her to know more about him.

"Yeah, I had no other option. I recently got into some bad debt, and I was going to be evicted--it was my only choice. I needed the money. That's it."

Victoria tried again, stretching the word teasingly. "Had toooo...?"

Tyler looked confused. He knew she was trying to make a point--he just didn't realise what it was. His eyes darted, as if the answer might be floating in the air between them. "Yeah, I had to do it."

She let that sit for a second, watching him. Then her lips curled slightly. "Are you seriously telling me that porn was the only option for a smart, college-educated white guy in New York?"

Tyler gave a short, tense laugh, now understanding. "You don't know what my situation is."

"Maybe not," she said calmly. "But I do know what people tell themselves when they want something but need a way to avoid admitting it."

"It wasn't like that. Do you think I wanted to be jerking off another dude or..."

Victoria cut him off, grinning. "Or fucking me!?!?"

Tyler panicked immediately, trying to backtrack but couldn't get his words out. His face flushed crimson. "I... I... didn't... I... I didn't mean that! I wasn't going to say that... I'm sorr-"

Victoria burst out laughing, loud and unapologetic. A few people in the café looked over, which only increased Tyler's embarrassment. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead as her laughter turned to a warm chuckle and then faded out.

"It's okay--I know you didn't."

Slowly she leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart. She whispered, "I can see who you are."

Victoria didn't move. She just let that sit with him. He didn't know what to say.

Eventually, leaning back, she added gently, "It's okay if there was more to it," her voice light, warm, and kind. "You wouldn't be the first man to tell himself a lie because the truth scared the hell out of him."

Tyler looked away.

After a moment, he admitted, "I'm not in trouble right now. Not really. I have a gambling problem but, for the first time in a while, I haven't felt the urge--which is progress."

Victoria studied him. "That's good. You should hold on to that."

He nodded. A beat passed.

Victoria sat back slightly, her fingers curling around the warmth of her cup. "So, in terms of your gambling, things are better for you since you started with Noir?" she asked with a half-smirk.

"I just haven't gambled in a couple of days, that's all."

Victoria, taking a sip from her cup, just gazed at him--with those eyes. Tyler immediately felt the need to fill the silence.

"Do you miss it? Any of it? The life before?"

Victoria's eyes held his, calm and open. "No," she said. "Not at all. There's nothing more powerful than getting to live the life that was meant for you."

That landed with more weight than he expected. Tyler looked down at his hands, his coffee, then back up again. He felt something tighten in his chest--not fear, but a kind of soft ache.

"How did you know?" he asked after a moment. "That it was who you really were?"

Victoria tilted her head thoughtfully, running her finger along the rim of her cup. "I didn't. Not all at once. It was slow. Confusing. At first I thought I was gay, that explained part of it. But I never felt complete. Something always stayed... off."

She paused for a beat, her voice quieter now. "The studio--Noir--it wasn't what I expected. But it gave me something I didn't know I needed. A kind of mirror. I didn't start out trying to become anyone new. But each shoot peeled something away. Layers I didn't even know were there."

Tyler watched her closely now, leaning forward slightly.

"It sounds stupid," she added, smiling faintly, "but the videos... they became like a diary. Not one I wrote. One I lived. You can trace it, you know? From the first one to now. My face, my body... everything. What I wore. How I reacted to being touched. It's all there."

He didn't interrupt. He just nodded, eyes fixed on her, pulled deeper.

"The earlier videos--they marketed me as a straight man. 'Straight man discovers he likes cock,' stuff like that, like with you. Because it sells. Because it's easy. But that wasn't me. That was just the angle. And I let them because I didn't know yet what I was becoming."

Tyler's brow furrowed. "And now?"

She gave him a steady look. "Now I watch those old videos and I see her. Hiding underneath "him". Just waiting."

There was a long pause. Then, with deliberate gentleness, Victoria said, "It's okay if this is more than just about money for you, Tyler. You don't have to know what it is yet. You just have to stop pretending you're not thinking about it."

He looked at her, and this time didn't look away.

"I'm not confused," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "I'm just... I'm trying to stay in control."

Victoria's smile turned warm, almost affectionate. "Control's a funny thing. We think we need it to feel safe. But sometimes it's just another way to hide."

Tyler didn't know how to respond.

"I like you, Tyler. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Noir changed my life for the better--I think it could do the same for you."

Tyler didn't reply. He just let the silence stretch for a while. It didn't feel uncomfortable.

Eventually, she glanced at her phone, then back up at him. "I should go. I've got a call in a bit."

He nodded, not quite ready for the conversation to end. Something in his chest protested.

Victoria stood, smoothing her coat down slowly. "Any more questions?"

He hesitated. Then blurted, "Did you enjoy it? Us?"

She paused, half-turned. Her smile curled--wry. "That one's complicated."

She stepped back, then turned toward the door. But just as she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder.

"You've got my number now," she said with a light shrug and a wicked glint in her eye. "If you think of anything else."

And then she was gone.

Tyler sat there a moment longer, staring at the door.

Then at the number saved in his phone.

Chapter 10: The King

The walk home was long by design. He could've taken the subway--but the idea of sitting still, underground, boxed in with strangers and their music and noise, felt unbearable. He needed motion. He needed cold air. He needed time to let the conversation settle.

She'd said more than he expected. But what stuck with him most wasn't what she said--it was how she looked when she said it. Calm. Certain. She'd already made peace with every part of her story.

By the time he reached his apartment, his fingers were numb. He keyed in, stepped into the quiet, and let the door shut behind him. No music. No TV. The silence felt different now--not peaceful-heavy.

He kicked off his shoes and stood there a moment, staring at nothing. Then, almost without thinking, he walked to the couch and sat down in front of his laptop.

He opened the lid. A tab from earlier blinked awake--NBA odds, half-scrolled. He clicked away. His hands moved automatically, almost guilty. New tab. Noir.

The homepage was the same dark sprawl of thumbnails and provocative titles. Everything curated. Everything deliberate. But it all faded as he typed her name into the search bar--not Victoria, but the name he knew she had before.

It was there.

A performer profile--photo from years ago. Short hair. Jaw harder. Smile strained, like he hadn't quite learned how to fake confidence yet. Tyler stared at it, feeling something twist inside him.

He scrolled down the video grid. Dozens of them.

He clicked Sort by: Oldest First.

The first title:

"Straight White Man Takes Cock for the First Time"

Uploaded four years ago.

He clicked.

The video opened on a younger version of her--or him. Tyler didn't know what name to use. The body was slimmer, narrow-shouldered, flat-chested. No makeup. The voice deeper, awkward in its delivery. There was hesitancy in the way he sat on the bed, glancing nervously at the camera. The man who entered was patient, reassuring, even kind.

And the boy on screen--he didn't look coerced. But he didn't look ready either.

Tyler watched him suck cock for the first time.

He didn't know what he felt.

He clicked the next video. And the next.

By the fourth one, there was a visible shift. Lip gloss. A shy, practiced smile. The way the subject moved had softened, grown more intentional. In one video, the camera focused on them slowly stroking a cock with painted nails. Their voice moaned a little louder, body swaying with something closer to rhythm.

By the eighth video, the name on the thumbnail had changed.

"Victoria gives the perfect blowjob"

Tyler blinked. He scrolled back. The previous clip had still used the old name. But now, here--Victoria.

No explanation. No fanfare.

Just a quiet change.

He clicked again.

Now she wore lace panties. A choker. Her hips had gained curve. Her posture was different--chin higher, hands more delicate, movements more graceful. The man in the scene bent her over, and she arched to meet him.

Tyler leaned back.

He couldn't stop.

He clicked a thumbnail at random from midway through the list. It opened on Victoria, full breasts now evident beneath a sheer bra, dark eye makeup smudged at the edges. Her lips were full, her moans loud. She sucked cock like she meant it, like it wasn't for anyone but her.

The comments below scrolled automatically:

"This one changed everything for her. You can tell."

"So hot to see her transformation."

"She used to be some white gay dude, right?"

"Best trans content on the site."

Tyler scrolled faster. The comments hit differently now. He clicked to the performer page again.

One more title caught his eye.

"Victoria's First Time with King"

He hovered. And clicked.

The video buffered for a few seconds. Just long enough for Tyler to shift, reposition, try to pretend he wasn't already half-hard.

The title had hit him like a quiet punch: Victoria's First Time with King.

He'd seen the name before--King--in comments, in thumbnails, in titles of trailers that appeared next to his.

The screen faded in.

It began with her kneeling.

Not the Victoria he'd met today--not yet. Still a trace of who she'd once been, changed but not finished.

She wore red lace--high-cut and sheer, hugging her hips. Her thighs were together, her posture upright. Trained. Glossy lips parted in a breath she hadn't taken yet. Hair curled and loose over her shoulders. The camera lingered on her face, her mouth, her hands resting delicately on her thighs, nails a deep plum. And between her legs, nestled delicately and unmistakably, a pink plastic chastity cage, curved and gleaming.

Tyler's breath caught.

She looked beautiful. Not just sexy--beautiful. Feminine. Vulnerable and confident at once. Something in him flinched at how natural it looked on her.

Then a shadow. Then presence.

Tyler didn't need the name confirmed. It was obvious. Tall. Broad. Black. When he stepped into frame, Victoria's eyes lifted to him--there was a reverence, a submission-here was the kind of man you gave yourself to. A King in his Court.

Then Tyler saw it.

King's cock. Heavy, dark, hanging obscenely thick between his thighs. It swung lazily with the rhythm of his stride-- it must've weighed more than Tyler's forearm. Tyler's eyes fixed, unblinking. He couldn't look away.

She said I was big, he thought suddenly. On the bed, in our first scene: "You're so thick." At the time it seemed genuine, he thought it meant something. Seems she was just being nice, boosting his ego, or putting on a performance - either way he felt smaller as a result.

Victoria had accepted she was smaller, bowing her head, looking up at him with those brown eyes. She smiled. She reached for him, but not in demand. She offered.

King didn't speak. Just cupped her chin and raised her head as she opened her mouth.

Her lips stretched slowly around the head of his cock. Barely. She gagged once, then again, but pushed deeper. Her tongue worked the underside. One hand held his thigh, the other cradled the base, trying to handle what she couldn't fit. Her eyes stayed up, locked on his.

The camera cut sideways. Her throat flexed. Her cheeks hollowed. Spit smeared her lips.

He fed it to her steadily, groaning low. He gripped her hair and used her mouth. Deep thrusts. She took it all--slow but relentless, her eyes on his, Tyler's on him, both accepting of his power. Then he grabbed her tighter and thrust deeper until she choked and had to pulled back, a string of drool dangling between them.

As she caught her breath she held King's cock in her hand. Heavy with a bulbous head, it looked like a black sceptre -power and strength. She dipped her head further beneath the shaft and after a brief pause licked under his balls, her pink tongue moving in small circles as King stood motionless, hand by his side.

Tyler swallowed, unzipping his jeans and taking out his cock.

Victoria rose to her feet and walked over to the bed and slowly got on all fours. Face down, ass up, she reached back with one hand and pulled her underwear to one side revealing the pink of her entrance and the slightest glimpse of her cage dangling below her smooth, shrunken balls.

King stroked himself slowly. The camera zoomed on her ass, the pink cage, her trembling legs.

He aligned. Pressed in.

The stretch was dramatic. Her breath stuttered into a high whine. She clenched her fists, plum nails digging into soft palms.

He didn't wait. Once in, he started moving--deep, slow strokes that pushed her body forward with each thrust. The camera switched angles and caught her moaning, head rocking, gripping sheets, eyes glazed.

Tyler was hard. Jaw tight. His hand around his cock, stroking softly.

King was slamming into her now. Each thrust bruising. Her back arched. Her cries changed--higher, less controlled. She buried her face in the bed-muffled groans.

He gripped her waist. Fucked her like she was built for it. Remade for it.

Victoria sobbed out something--words lost under the rhythm. Her cage jiggled each time his hips he slammed forward.

Tyler stroked himself harder.

New angle. Victoria was on her back now. Legs wide. Her cage glistened with lube and pre-cum. Her eyes were wide, makeup smudged, lips parted.

King pushed in again, deep. He covered her body with his. His hands pinned her wrists.

She gasped--arched upward, meeting King's stomach, her cage pressed flat against his belly.

She whispered something into his ear--like she'd done with Tyler the day before. Her head rolled side to side, eyes fluttering. Her moans were ragged, helpless.

The camera closed in on her face. Tears at the corners of her eyes. Sweat on her brow. Her expression folded into pure surrender.

King drove into her. The bed creaked with force.

She wrapped her legs around him. He buried himself.

She groaned. Her caged cock twitched, pulsing against her stomach. Her whole body shook as she let out a cry--her voice breaking.

She was cumming! Cumming through the cage.

Tyler nearly lost it.

King continued to slam into her, each thrust thin white threads of cum from her cage stretched to his stomach making a soft rhythmic plap. The camera zoomed in on his wide ebony back and shoulders, his muscles flexing and stretching with each thrust.

Tyler was stroking furiously as King grunted and pulled out.

He stroked once. Twice. And came.

Thick ropes sprayed her cage, her stomach, her chest. Her hand moved instantly, smearing the cum across the plastic, over her own trembling frame. She moaned again, breathless and ruined.

And Tyler came.

He came harder than ever before - heavy white dollops falling onto his jeans, spraying his sofa, coating his hand and thigh. It was staggering - shattering - momentous.

As he calmed, he found himself fixated on Victoria's cage, covered in a mix and her and King's cum. And then his eyes shifted to King. And that cock. And they stayed there until the scene faded to black and the video stopped.

Then his phone buzzed.

Jayden: Got something lined up. Big one. Call me when you can.