The Velvet Rabbit: Nylon and Heels

Tokyo after dark. Satin and smoke. A place where boys become girls, and secrets dress in black satin and sheer nylons.

This is a story of transformation, temptation--and the tender danger of falling in love when you least expect it.

With love and thanks to the wonderful Ms Rebecca Brookes for her generous help and sharp-eyed advice. Do check out her stories--you'll thank me later.

This is a work of fantasy. All characters depicted are over 18 years old.

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Chapter One: Down the rabbit hole

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The neon hadn't started buzzing yet. It was too early for that. Just late afternoon, the sky over Tokyo still amber and blue, full of heat and engine fumes.

I'd walked past the door twice before I finally knocked.

It didn't look like the kind of place you'd find online--sitting on a narrow side street, just a slab of black wood with a tiny silver buzzer and a tarnished plaque that said Velvet Rabbit - Members Only. No lights. No music. No clue what was on the other side.

Tokyo was still glowing with late afternoon heat. My palms were sweating, but not from the sun.

I wasn't dressed up yet, just jeans and a loose T-shirt, my wig in my bag, lashes still glued neatly to their tray. Anonymous. I looked like any other kid running errands in this sprawling mass of a city.

Except I wasn't.

I swallowed hard and pressed the buzzer.

A moment later, the door clicked and cracked open, and a girl peeked out. She looked like something out of a shōjo manga--tiny, soft-featured, black bob that curved neatly against her jaw, big glasses over almond eyes, perched on a delicate nose. She wore a yellow summer dress with little strawberries on it and pale pink ballet flats. Her smile like summer that hit me like a warm breeze.

She looked more like a shy undergrad on her way to cram school than someone working in a hostess club.

The reality of what I was here to do was hitting hard, made worse by this pretty girl who must know my secret.

I stumbled over my words. "Uh, hi. I'm here for... the interview?"

Her eyes lit up. "Interview?" my heart skipped a beat. Had I got the wrong place? "Wait--are you ReniRose?"

Oh god.

I almost stepped back. "Um... yeah."

"I love your TikTok!" she squealed, opening the door wider. "You're even cuter in person. Come in, come in--I'm Miyu!"

I blinked, thrown completely off guard. I'd expected some older guy with a clipboard, maybe even a chain-smoking mama-san, full of intimidation and disapproval. But not this adorable, strawberry-dress-wearing fan. Her hand fluttered to her mouth when she giggled.

She led me inside and I followed, blinking into the darkness. The club was quiet, lit low and red, like stepping into a plush box of secrets. Tables with velvet booths. A tiny raised stage with a screen behind it. A bar glowing faintly at the back.

"This way," Miyu said, leading me past a curtain and into a dressing room.

It was a riot of wigs, makeup, racks of satin and lace and stilettos. The air smelled like hairspray and perfume.

"So, the boss will want to see you dressed," she said, already half out the door. "You'll be fine. You're gorgeous." She winked. "Just go full Reni."

And just like that, I was alone with my reflection.

I stared at the mirror. No filters. No ring light. Just me. I didn't know how I could do this in front of this pretty girl, not least for whatever man ran this place.

I unzipped my bag with shaky fingers and began. Primer, foundation, contour. I could do this in my sleep by now. Wig cap. The pink bob with heavy bangs--cute, classic, a little bratty and my signature look. Black liner, glitter on the corners, pink shimmer lipstick. A crop top with off-the-shoulder sleeves. Micro skirt. High heels.

My legs looked amazing. They always do.

When I was finished, I barely recognized myself.

I was her. ReniRose. The girl with 30k followers and comments full of hearts and "mommy???"

I was still adjusting my skirt when Miyu popped her head back in.

Her eyes widened. "Holy shit. You're--wow."

My cheeks went hot. "Too much?"

"No," she said, eyes scanning me slowly. "You're perfect." Miyu studied me a little harder than I felt comfortable with before saying, "Ready to meet the boss?"

No. Not remotely. But I nodded.

She reached out and took my hand. Her fingers were soft, her grip gentle.

"Just smile," she whispered. "You've got this."

Somehow she gave me the confidence to continue. So we walked back into the red-lit club, my heels clicking too loudly, my heart pounding like it might burst.

Miyu led me to a narrow hallway behind the bar, then tapped on a frosted glass door.

There was a grunt from inside.

She smiled at me again--encouraging, almost proud--and pushed it open.

The office smelled like smoke and air freshener. The lights were low, a small desk lamp casting everything in a hazy orange. Behind the desk sat a man who looked like he'd been here since the nineties. Balding, with a grey goatee and a paunch that strained against his shirt. A cigarette smouldered between his fingers, ash curling towards the desk.

He didn't say anything at first.

Just looked at me.

Really looked.

I stood there, heels slightly wobbling, trying not to shrink under his gaze. He wasn't leering exactly--it was more like he was assessing a slab of meat.

My throat tightened. I was painfully aware of how little I was wearing, how vulnerable I was and that this was the first time I'd stood cross-dressed in front of a man.

"Spin," he said, voice gravel.

I hesitated. I should've left. I should've run.

But instead, I turned slowly, making sure my skirt didn't ride up too much, my hips swaying out of instinct more than intent.

When I turned back, he was still watching. Then he nodded and gestured at the chair in front of the desk. "Sit."

I did, legs together, hands folded in my lap. My heart was hammering. I wasn't sure I liked feeling this small, this exposed.

"You'll do," he said flatly. "Got any experience serving?"

"Yes," I squeaked, my voice high and breathy. "I've worked in some cafes."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. "This is a bit different."

He took a drag on his cigarette and exhaled towards the ceiling.

"Pay's three thousand yen an hour. You'll be on three nights a week. Tips'll triple that if you smile right. Maybe more, for someone as cute and young as you."

The money sounded good, a lot more than I got from my tiktok, a hell of a lot more than my odd-jobs. But was this easy money for a reason?

My lips parted. "What exactly would I have to do?"

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

"Look pretty. Smile. Compliment the patrons. Serve their drinks. If they like you, they'll want you to sit with them. Dance when they sing karaoke. Maybe sit on their lap if you feel like it."

My stomach fluttered.

He saw it.

"Look, there's no funny business. No sex. No touching beyond the occasional idiot who tries a squeeze. We've got cameras. One hand goes somewhere it shouldn't, and he's out."

I nodded slowly, relieved somewhat. "So... it's more about the fantasy?"

He grinned, smoke curling from his lips.

"You're not here to be a girl. You're here to make them feel like men. Make 'em laugh, feel seen. Wiggle cute, pour their whisky, act like they're the only one in the room."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You think you can do that sweetheart?"

I hesitated. I wasn't sure I wanted to. I wasn't even into guys at all, I just liked the dressing up. Being ogled in real life wasn't the same as getting flirty comments online when I was safe behind a screen and an IP blocker. In real life they could touch you.

But the money was really good for only three days work a week. Better than any café job. And somewhere beneath the anxiety, there was this twisted little spark. The thrill of becoming her. Reni Rose in real life.

I nodded.

"I'll try."

"You start Friday. Miyu'll show you the ropes."

He reached for a drawer and pulled out a name tag with a bunny logo and a blank label.

"Write down whatever name you want them to call you."

I stared at it. My hand shook slightly as I picked up the pen.

ReniRose.

As soon as I finished the last letter, I felt a cold shiver crawl down my spine.

What the fuck had I just done?

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Chapter Two: Bunny School

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The pen had barely left the paper when Miyu burst in and took me by the hand again and tugged me to my feet.

"Okay! Let me show you around. You're gonna love it," she beamed, swinging our joined hands like we were off to recess.

I tried to smile, but my stomach was still a bit of a knot. Signing that name tag felt like slipping into something I couldn't take off again. Like clipping on a pair of high heels with a lock on the strap.

We stepped back into the main club room, now dimly lit with soft purples and blues that made everything shimmer--velvet booths, chrome edging, mirrored walls. The kind of place that felt like

a dream and a dare all at once.

"On a normal night," Miyu said, skipping ahead with a little hop in her ballet flats, "there's six girls working. Never more than twenty-five guests. Boss keeps it exclusive. You'll be assigned a few tables, usually in a pair with another girl--hopefully me. You serve drinks, flirt, keep the energy cute."

She spun on her toes and walked backwards for a moment, grinning at me like we were on a date, not a tour. Her bob cut bounced. Everything about her shimmered--bright, effortless, magnetic.

I hesitated, something catching in my throat. "Wait--Miyu, you're a bunny girl?" I blinked at her, confused. "But I thought only... I mean, you're so..."

"Pretty?" she teased, hand fluttering to her chest in mock surprise. "Convincing? Flawless?" She beamed, letting me squirm a second before winking. "Darling, I am a bunny girl. Through and through. And I'm flattered you didn't clock me."

She gave me a twirl, the hem of her frilly skirt flaring as she posed, full of showgirl sass. "You should've seen your face!" she giggled, clearly enjoying herself. "I knew you thought I was cis. You kept sneaking glances at my legs like you were doing math in your head."

I flushed, mouth opening, then closing. She wasn't wrong. I had thought that. I had been looking. Too much, maybe.

She leaned in close, lips brushing my ear. "It's okay. I like when boys get confused."

I swallowed, hard.

My cheeks were burning. "But... I mean, you just look so--"

"Girly?" she supplied sweetly. "So do you, hime. That's why they called you. You think they'd offer just any TikTok crossdresser a place here?"

"I just wear the clothes," I muttered, suddenly self-conscious. "You... you are something else."

"You wear the clothes well," she said, poking my chest with her manicured finger. "You've got the legs, the grace, the lips, the attitude. All the makings of a star. ReniRose is going to kill here."

I tried to smile, but the knot in my stomach twisted. I wasn't sure if it was nerves... or something else. I was looking at Miyu again. The soft line of her jaw, the perfect sway of her walk, her voice--warm, high, musical.

She was everything I found attractive. And now I knew. And I didn't know how to feel.

"I'll never be as good as you," I said under my breath.

Miyu stopped, turned on her heel, and caught my eye with a sudden seriousness. "Hey. Don't say that. You don't have to be me. You just have to be her. The girl you become when you let go of the fear."

Then she smiled again, brighter than before. "And don't worry, you'll have me to show you all the tricks." She gave me a playful wink before looping her arm through mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Now come on, there's just a few things more and then we can get you measured for your ears."

She pointed to the glossy touchscreens on each table. "Clients order drinks here or request a girl to join them for some one-to-one. If you're picked, you go over and be charming. Sit close. Let them sing at you, or drag you up for a duet. If they book a private booth..."

She gestured toward a hallway to one side that I hadn't noticed before, lit in soft red with frosted glass doors running along it.

"... that's the big tip zone."

My eyebrows rose. "What happens in the booths?"

Miyu grinned, pressing a finger to her lips, then gave a little shrug. "Karaoke. Talking. Lap cuddles. Sometimes they just want to pretend they're on a date. Sometimes they cry. Sometimes they try to slide a hand somewhere stupid, but we handle it."

I felt a flicker of heat crawl up my neck.

"What if they, uh... try something more?"

She gave me a sidelong glance. "Look some girls make... arrangements. Outside the club. It has to be discreet. But here? It's all monitored. You keep it flirty, fun, maybe stroke their ego while they stroke your thigh."

That last part made my throat tighten. My knees too, actually.

Miyu leaned closer and gave me a knowing smile. "You're still nervous."

"Is it that obvious?"

She nodded, not unkindly. "You've got this twitchy bunny look, like you're gonna bolt."

She looked at me for a long second, then said gently, "You're gonna turn heads. You're beautiful, and you don't even know it. You were picked out to join! And if any guy steps out of line, I'll pull his ear off."

I smiled despite myself.

"Come on," she chirped, already walking back toward the dressing room. "Time to meet your new best frenemy: the outfit."

Back in the changing room, she opened a wardrobe and pulled out a hanger with a flourish.

"This," she said with reverence, "is the classic bunny girl outfit. She's a bitch to get into but oh my god, look at her."

The satin gleamed under the light--sleek, high-cut, a structured bodice with a plunging sweetheart neckline. There was a little cotton puffball tail at the back and white satin cuffs dangling from the hanger. The collar was crisp with a black bow tie already clipped on.

"And then," she added, fishing through the drawer like a magician, "we have these."

She held up the bunny ears like a trophy. "Your crowning glory. You don't just wear these--you become them."

I reached out and ran my fingers along the satin of the leotard. It was smooth, firm, almost cold. I imagined myself inside it, body hugged tight, legs out, heels clicking across the floor.

God, I looked hot in my head. And that scared me a little.

"You'll wear black," Miyu said, folding the hanger into my arms. "Mine's pink. It matches my blush."

She twirled dramatically, like she was already in her own costume. "And don't forget: sheer black pantyhose, four-inch patent heels. They murder your feet by midnight, but hey--beauty is pain."

I chuckled weakly, still holding the outfit like it might bite me. "Do people really just... wear this all night?"

She leaned in, whispering, "You stop noticing after ten minutes. Or after the second customer gives you a ¥10,000 tip just for calling him senpai and blowing him a kiss."

I looked at myself in the mirror. Just me in makeup, holding a fantasy in my hands.

A tingle ran up my spine. Excitement. Or nerves. Or maybe both.

Miyu must've noticed the hesitation in my face, because she stepped close again and gently placed her hand on my arm.

"You don't have to do this if it's too much," she said softly. "But I think you want to. I think you're just scared because it feels real now."

I nodded slowly. "I don't even know who I am when I'm like this."

Her hand squeezed mine. "You're still you. You're just a shinier version. A little bouncier. A little pinker."

She smiled at me, warm and unflinching.

"I'll look after you, okay? We'll be friends. I can already tell."

That warmth washed over me again, like sunlight behind closed eyes. I felt the same way.

Then her smile changed. A flicker of nerves.

"There's... one more thing," she said.

She turned to the drawer again, hesitated, then looked back over her shoulder at me.

"You have to wear something else, too. It's kind of... part of the uniform."

Her tone had shifted. Not playful now. Like she was bracing herself. Embarrassed about what she had to say.

"What is it?" I asked, my stomach doing another twist.

Miyu hesitated, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, sleek object. It was shaped like an L, or maybe more like a flattened T--one end slightly curved like a hook, the other tapering into a rounded tip. The whole thing was coated in smooth black silicone, soft-looking but firm. Near the wider end was a tiny reflective panel, like a sensor or maybe a light, and just below it, a discreet button.

I blinked at it. "What... is that?"

She gave a nervous little laugh, twirling it between her fingers. "It's... a toy. Kind of. For the customers to play with."

"A toy?"

"Yeah. Something they can control from their table tablets," she said, her tone dipping into something a little more careful. "It sends a little... buzz. A tingle. A 'bunny buzz' they call it here. They press a button and--well, it lets you know someone's thinking of you. Makes your tail twitch."

I stared at it, my brain clicking into gear.

"You mean... we have to wear that? Where?"

Miyu gave me an apologetic look, then tilted her head and pointed--shyly--to her backside.

"It's, um... part of the uniform," Miyu said, her smile a little too wide. "You get used to it. Promise." She leaned in, lowering her voice just a touch. "The clients can, you know, activate it from their table. Every time they do, it costs them a hefty tip--and we get a nice cut. So technically... every buzz is a win."

She giggled, shrugging with mock innocence. "Embarrassing at first, sure, but you'll learn to smile through it. Think of it as a very personal applause."

She smiled again, but this one was smaller, more sheepish.

I looked at the device in her hand, then back at her. My throat felt dry. My whole body felt... confused.

"I see," I said, though I really wasn't sure I did.

She handed me the thing with a wink and said, "Here, take this one home, give it a play. It's really quite fun, plus it'll help you get used to it. Need to keep your wits about you if it goes off when you've got a tray full of drinks."

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I laughed at the time, because what else could I do? But now, back in my tiny apartment, the laughter was long gone.

The toy sat on my desk like a challenge--sleek, black, silent. Its silicone surface seemed to drink in the low light, as if even it was trying to be discreet. I hadn't touched it since pulling it from my bag. Not even a curious poke. It just sat there, between my laptop and a Hello Kitty mug filled with pens, like something that didn't belong. A secret that hummed without making a sound.

I leaned back in my desk chair, arms folded, watching it like it might move on its own.

Was I really going to do this?

I'd only moved to Tokyo last year. I was nineteen, technically here on a student visa, but I was barely scraping by with part-time shifts and sponsored gigs. Ren Asakura. Born in Osaka, raised in San Diego--my mom brought me back here after the divorce, but I'd gone to high school in the States.

Everyone always said I looked "exotic," like I was some rare flavor. Blonde hair that never quite behaved, light hazel eyes, skin that stayed pale no matter how much sun I got. In America, I was "the Asian kid." In Japan, I was "the foreigner." I never fitted perfectly anywhere.

Maybe that's why dressing up felt like home. An escape to be someone else, someone more sexy, more glamorous and desired.

At first, it was just for fun. I'd played around a bit with my mother's clothes when I was young, getting an odd thrill I couldn't quite explain. Then that became closet cosplay. Anime conventions. Makeup tutorials on YouTube. But then I started getting bolder and sexier. Cute videos. Filters. Poses. I gave myself a name--ReniRose--and suddenly people noticed. Thousands of them.

They loved my legs. My tiny waist. The way I could switch from awkward boy-next-door to seductive idol with one outfit change and a toss of a pink wig. I wasn't sure what that made me--but it felt good to be seen. It felt powerful.

And yeah, I dressed like a girl--but that didn't mean I was one. Right? I didn't think I wanted to live that way all the time. I was a guy. A guy who just... liked the aesthetic. The way silk or satin slid over my skin, the whisper of nylon on shaved legs, the quiet power in a good pair of heels. The way they reshaped me--my posture, my walk, the way people looked.

There was something easy about femininity once you gave in to it. Something addictive. But it was just playing dress-up. A performance. Wasn't it?

I was still straight. I liked girls. Not boys.

TikTok and Twitch streams came next--then a bit of private cam work here and there. Nothing serious, and nothing I wasn't prepared to do. It was an act, to pretend to be someone, just cosplay really. I ignored their messages about what they would like to do to me and concentrated on fleecing them for the most cash for the least effort on my part. And it paid, at least a little. Not enough to survive in Tokyo, though. Not even close.

After a few months of building a solid following as ReniRose, the message slid into my inbox like silk. 'The Velvet Rabbit'. At first, I thought it was a scam. Some kind of cruel joke, or worse--someone trying to out me. But the tip they sent was real. Substantial. And the account? Verified.

They said they loved my look. Said ReniRose would be perfect for their stage.

It should've been a red flag. But instead, I felt flattered. Giddy, even. Someone out there saw me. Not just the filters or the angles--but the performance. The fantasy I'd spun late at night in my cramped apartment, bathed in ring light and denial. And they wanted more.

Still, it felt like too much. Too fast. An elite club. Come for a live audition. But I couldn't do this for real, could I? I'd seen photos of the girls, they were goreous. Most looked like they were trans all the time, full time girls, some even with what looked like real breasts. I was just a silly cross dressing kid on Twitch. I couldn't compete with them.

But they were persistent. Polite, but unshakable. As if they knew something I hadn't quite admitted to myself. That Reni wasn't just a look. That she was waiting. Watching. Getting bolder.

So now the audition was done and somehow, I'd passed, mostly thanks to Miyu. And now, back home, stripped of the lashes and the shimmer and the curves, I was just me again--Ren.

A boy sitting on his narrow futon.

Staring at the thing they'd given me

The device.

Sleek. Small. Mysterious.

It lay there on the nightstand like an invitation. A dare. My fingers hovered over it. Trembling. Wanting.

Just one more step. Just one more step to becoming her.

I picked it up. It was lighter than I remembered. Soft. Curved in all the right places. I ran my thumb over the tiny control button, not pressing--just feeling the click that almost happened.

I imagined myself in the club again. The lights, the mirrors, the satin black bunny suit. Heels. Ears. Cute bow tie and cuffs.

And this. Hidden inside me.

Was I really going to let some stranger buzz me like a game show button? In front of other people? While I smiled and served their drinks and pretended I didn't care? How would it make me feel? Would it be painful or pleasurable? Would it be humiliating?

I imagined my friends from San Diego. Nathan, especially. He used to send me stupid memes and call me "bro" every other sentence. If he saw me like this now--if he saw ReniRose strutting around in four-inch heels with this thing inside me--what would he say?

What would I say?

I set the toy down and rested my forehead in my hands, groaning into the warmth of my palms.

I wasn't a girl. Not really. I didn't think I was. But I wasn't just a guy anymore either, was I?

I looked up again, and the device was still there. Waiting.

Miyu's voice echoed in my head: "It's really quite fun."

I wasn't sure if she was lying... or if that was the scariest part--that it would be fun.

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I wasn't going to do it.

I told myself that three times as I opened the closet.

I had played with my butt hole a little before, but never really seriously. It was only a finger or two, when I felt really horny after dressing as ReniRose, feeling so feminine and giving myself a release my hand slipped to my ass, squeezing it at first before slipping a finger in my hole, then a second before coming, coming very hard. I'd even once used the end of a hair brush.

But after each time, once the glow of my orgasm receded I felt self disgust at what I'd done. I'd strip off the makeup, the wig, the clothes and shower and go back to being Ren as fast as I could. I'd do the most boy things I could think of to rid myself of the thoughts I'd been having. Boys shouldn't put things up their butts!

I'd also had all sorts of lucrative offers to do what I was thinking about doing on live cam, but I'd turned them all down flat. I couldn't do it then, I couldn't do it now. And yet now, now I was thinking of it, and it was teasing me more than ever. Why?

I'm not gay, I told myself again. I just cross dress. I don't like men, don't want a dick in my ass (or anywhere else) and I shouldn't want a toy up there either. But then the memory of the few times I'd played with my butt, how I'd let myself slip into the sensations of nylon on my skin, silk and satin slipping over my cock. How good it felt to penetrate myself and the wonderful release it gave me.

I decided to go ahead. It wasn't because I wanted anything up there, or that I was going to enjoy it in any way, it was repugnant, it was because I had to do it, to get used to it for tomorrow and earn that cash that would keep me from getting evicted.

But even as I reached for the pink wig, even as my fingers brushed the soft synthetic strands, I knew I was lying.

There was something about seeing myself as her--as ReniRose--that made it all make sense for my first try of the toy. Like slipping into a story where I already knew the lines. Where I didn't have to ask myself why. I just had to be.

But first I had to feel as sexy as possible.

I pulled on the sheer stockings first. They glided up my legs like liquid shadow, smoothing every edge, hugging each curve I didn't really have but could fake well enough. Then the short black skirt, flippy and tight at the waist. A cropped mesh tee with a cute bat printed across the front. My bra was padded but it was empty underneath. Still, in the mirror, I looked... right. Close enough to the fantasy that the nerves buzzed in my belly like static.

No panties, because, well why bother.

I adjusted the pink wig and leaned into the mirror. Heavy liner. Fanned lashes. Glossed lips. I pressed them together until they shone like candy.

I was ReniRose, and she looked like she wanted trouble.

My heart thudded harder and my hands shook with nerves as I picked up the toy. It had warmed to room temperature, almost like it was waiting. I stared at it, one last moment of hesitation clinging to the edges of my thoughts like fog. I let out a sigh with a deep shuddering breath.

I squeezed a small dollop of lube onto the end of the toy before bending over and opening my legs. Reaching around behind me I pushed the rest of the lube into my butt, wincing as I squeezed inside of me, pushing the cold gel in with my finger.

It felt odd, the lube sliding inside of me. I had to fight the overwhelming urge to wipe my behind, wriggling my thighs as the lube finally warmed and settled inside of me.

Bending over again I moved the tip of the toy to my hole, feeling the warm rubberised surface touch my skin for the first time. Then I licked my lips, breathed in, and started to slide it in.

The sensation made me gasp--part discomfort, part... something else. I stood still, spine straightening, feeling impossibly aware of my body in a way that left me blushing alone in the room. The toy was now nestled in deep, snug, just enough pressure to remind me it was there, part of me.

I picked up my phone. Miyu had shown me the app--nothing fancy, just a button labeled "buzz." I hesitated with my thumb hovering over it.

And then I pressed it.

The vibration was instant. Not overwhelming, but sharp. A ripple of sensation from inside that made my knees twitch and my breath catch in my throat. I clamped a hand over my mouth, as if someone might hear, even though I was completely alone.

"Oh god," I whispered into my palm. "Ohhhh myyyy..!"

It wasn't just pleasure. It was heat. A low, tingling ache that bloomed outward with each pulse. I pressed it again. Longer this time.

My hips jerked involuntarily. My body started to shake. I felt the heat rising up my body as I moaned.

This was dangerous.

I needed to move.

Wobbling a little, I stepped back and grabbed the black patent heels from beneath my bed. They weren't the ones I'd wear at the club--those were still in a box--but these were close enough. Four inches of sharp, glossy challenge.

I slipped them on and tried to stand tall.

The toy buzzed again. I almost crumpled, grabbing a wall for support as I shivered from pleasure.

The heels made every sensation sharper. My balance was delicate. My core tight. Every step made me more aware of how filled I was. I took a few careful strides, hand brushing the wall for support from the sensations rolling around my body, giggling despite myself. Shame and giddy thrill tangled in my throat.

I looked in the mirror.

There she was--ReniRose--teetering in heels with a secret humming between her legs, lips parted and eyes wide, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment and something dangerously close to arousal.

I shouldn't have liked this.

But I did.

And that scared me more than anything.

I hit the 'buzz' button once more and slipped my hand under the front of my skirt while I looked at myself, imagining how sexy I'd look as a bunny girl.

Then my mind drifted to Miyu, how her innocent cuteness would look wrapped in high heels, pantyhose and a figure hugging bunny leotard. And it was that image that pushed me over the edge.

I couldn't take the tease anymore, I needed relief as I felt the thing inside me throb incessantly.

"Ohhhhh fuckkk!!!"

When I came, I came hard. My cum splattering against the mirror, coating the image of ReniRose in front of me as my body jerked and I struggled to shut the toy off, not being able to take any more.

It took a moment before the nasty pang of shame started to creep up my spine. What had I done? A vibrating plug up my ass, masturbating over myself dressed as a cheap slut? Cum dripping down onto my thigh-highs. Having sexual thoughts about a trans girl? What was happening to me.

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Chapter Three: First night nerves

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I arrived at 6:30pm on the dot. I was a good hour earlier than I needed to be there.

The sun was still up, the neon signs of Kabukicho not yet glowing, and the city had that strange lull--like a held breath--before the night stretched awake. My stomach was tight with nerves, but something else fluttered underneath. Anticipation, maybe. Or the sharp thrill of doing something I shouldn't.

The club door creaked open before I could even knock.

Miyu grinned at me, arms wide. "Ren-chaaaan! Early bird gets the best mirror!"

I smiled despite the tight knot in my chest. She looked adorable as ever, bare-faced and in an oversized hoodie with her legs tucked into thigh-high socks. Still, she gave off a quiet confidence that calmed me.

I was starting to feel things for this girl. Her warmth, the ease of her charm, her prettiness.

She tugged me inside. "So... did you try it?" she whispered in a conspiratorial way.

I hesitated. "Yeah. I... tried it."

Her grin deepened, teasing. "And?"

I swallowed, cheeks burning, remembering how I needed to be dressed as ReniRose, how I'd cum thinking about her. About Miyu.

"It's... intense. I don't know how I'm supposed to wear that all night. What if it--?"

"You will," she said, giving my hand a squeeze. "And you'll look so cute doing it, no one will notice your knees shaking. All they will see is your cute bunny tail twitch and a faint look of pleasure! Besides, they can only give you a short burst at a time. Just a teas, nothing more."

We headed to the dressing room, the familiar scent of hair spray, perfume, and warm lights already softening the edges of my nerves. The vanity mirror glowed, a throne waiting for a queen.

I took my seat.

Miyu sat beside me, already pulling her hair back with a pink cat-ear headband. "Let's paint the girls," she chirped.

I unpacked my kit, hands trembling slightly. But once I dipped the brush and swept the first line of smoky grey across my lid, the motion steadied me. Like muscle memory, or maybe muscle fantasy.

The lashes came next--long, spiky, flirty. Then the lips. Black gloss, thick and high-shine, the final flourish of ReniRose. I pressed them together and met my own gaze in the mirror.

She was back.

Miyu was already feminine before she even put on her bunny girl outfit. She peeled off her hoodie and dropped her shorts, revealing soft curves and a surprisingly petite chest under a lacy bralette. I blinked, unsure if I was surprised or just... intrigued.

She caught me looking and smirked. "Don't stare," she teased gently. "They're real. Well... hormone real."

I turned a little pink. "Do I need to wear, you know--breast forms or something?"

She shook her head, pulling out a compact. "No way. The men like us as we are. It's the whole point. We're not pretending to be cis girls, Ren. They want pretty femboys. Pretty boys who look like girls. A flat chest is fine, most of the girls don't have boobs and mine aren't much, and were more for me than the dirty old men of the Velvet Rabbit. But don't worry, you're gonna look amazing."

Miyu pulled off her panties, and for the briefest second I caught sight of her cock. It was small, smaller even than mine, soft and very pink. I turned away immediately. I felt that would do it, cure me of my attraction to her, confirming that, despite her femininity, she still had boy parts. But oddly, it didn't. I still felt the same about her, that curious warmth in my chest, a growing longing.

I hesitated before slipping off my clothes, awkward under the warm lights and being near naked next to Miyu. I still felt more like a boy than a girl in these moments, a flat chest, narrow hips, and a body that hadn't been sculpted by estrogen. But Miyu turned to look, and her eyes didn't lie.

"Wow," she said softly. "You've got a gorgeous body. So smooth". She rubbed my arm, feeling the softness of my skin as I felt the gentleness of her caress "They're going to fall for you in seconds."

I felt the compliment like a little shot of confidence in my veins and gave her a half smile.

As we stripped further I tried not to look at Miyu anymore, but her body was so tempting, so soft and smooth, daring me to touch her back. I was a little sheepish, hiding my own manhood was fairly easy, given how small it was, ashamed to show it to Miyu. But there was no escaping the next part.

We each took out our devices--small, sleek, pulsing quietly like secrets, lubed the toy and our butts--and slipped them in. I winced slightly as it nestled into place, but once it settled, I didn't hate the sensation, bringing memories of that powerful orgasm the night before. For now the shame that came after didn't seem to affect me, just the warm glow of how I felt so sexy. I was already slipping into character.

Tights next--black, sheer, whisper-thin. I gathered them carefully in my hands, nerves buzzing as I slid one foot in, then the other. The nylon hugged my calves, then crept up my thighs like a second skin--cool at first, then warming to my body, gliding over me with an electric softness that made me shiver. Every inch they covered pulled me deeper into the illusion, into her. I smoothed them over my hips and then my behind, feeling how they shaped me, hugged me, transformed me. My breath hitched.

Then the leotard.

It was tighter than I expected. The satin clung to me like water, every line of my body highlighted, legs impossibly long under the glossy black of the satin. The high cut bared my hips and made it look like my nylon clad legs went on forever, the collar framed my neck, and the little puff of a bunny tail sat over the base of my spine like punctuation.

A quiet, ridiculous statement that somehow made me feel more real.

But one thing I was concerned about, the small but very visible bulge it created at my crotch in the tight material of the leotard. It was obvious, and a real worry concerning how much I'd enjoyed the feeling of the device when I tested it the night before.

"Miyu, do I need to tuck this away?"

Miyu laughed, warmly, not mocking. "Oh it's ok sweetie, like I said, the clients here want you to be natural, show off your little extra, it's tight on purpose. They want to see our little lady bulges from their femboys. Don't worry, when you are so busy and on show I find our little friends tend to behave. But then again hormones are big help keeping my tiny little thing in check."

It felt like this was yet another little humiliation, what the heck was I walking into. Best not think of old men staring at your package, focus on the money and get through the night.

The pink wig went on last. And suddenly I wasn't Ren anymore.

I stood, smoothing the leotard with trembling fingers. My posture shifted without thinking--hips forward, shoulders loose, chin tilted slightly. She was alive again, ReniRose, and she looked stunning as a bunny girl.

"You're beautiful," Miyu said, eyes wide.

"So are you," I murmured.

And she was.

It was a transformation of a different type. Gone now was the cute student in nerdy glasses and a summer dress. In her place was a sexy goddess in a pale pink bunny outfit, sheer tights clinging to long legs, curves framed perfectly by satin and sparkle. Her lips were a glossy coral, and her lashes batted just once. The smile was the same, the same warmth it almost shone, and then she turned away, pulling out a small bottle.

I found it hard to look away.

"One last touch," she said cheerfully, then flipped the cap open.

The scent of strawberries hit me first.

She poured some glittering body oil into her palm and began rubbing it gently onto my shoulders. Her hands were warm and soft, working the shimmer across my arms, down my back, even over the slope of my chest. I shivered at her touch.

She giggled. "Ticklish?"

"A little," I lied. It wasn't that.

It was the intimacy. The way her delicate fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary. The warmth in her breath when she leaned closer. I wasn't sure if I wanted to lean away or closer.

I started to worry about the leotard again, about how much it might show how I was enjoying her touch, I wasn't sure I was ready to show her that. But all of a sudden, she stopped.

"Your turn," she said, handing me the bottle.

I hesitated, but she had already turned around.

I poured a little into my hand and began smoothing it along her bare shoulders. Her skin was as soft as I imagined, and the oil caught the light as I worked it down the small of her back, her arms, her waist. She closed her eyes and let out a tiny sigh of contentment.

"You have good hands," she whispered.

Our eyes met in the mirror. For a moment, we said nothing.

Then the door opened behind us.

A bustle of voices, a rush of perfume and heels and greetings filled the room. A tall girl with a platinum wig waved at me before looking me up and down. "You the new girl?"

I smiled nervously. "Yeah. I'm... Reni."

"Well, Reni," she said with a wink, "you're gonna kill tonight."

And just like that, the moment between Miyu and I vanished in a swirl of chatter and perfume.

But I could still feel her hands on my skin.

And hers on mine.

------

As soon as I stepped through the velvet curtain and into the main room, something shifted in my brain.

I was her now.

It wasn't just the heels, or the satin so tight it molded to every contour of my body--it was the way the lighting hit the room. Earlier, during my interview, the place had been dim and sultry, but with no life to it. Now, it glowed low and seductive, all soft magentas and deep indigos, the chandeliers dimmed to halos above mirrored tables. Everything shimmered--faces, drinks, lips--and every surface seemed to hum with anticipation.

It was still quiet, just a few men trickling in at first. Miyu gave me a little wink and steered us toward our section--four low tables near the far end, half-hidden behind sheer gold curtains. We waited, adjusting glasses, checking the tablets, smoothing our outfits.

I still expected someone to point at me and laugh. To tell me how ridiculous I looked. That I was a joke, not feminine in the slightest and not at all sexy in any way.

But then I caught sight of myself in the polished chrome of the bar and barely recognised the girl staring back. Tall, poised, elegant--her legs impossibly long in sheer seamless tights, her lips black and glistening. The flick of her pink wig gave her something cartoonish, anime almost, but the eyes beneath were real and vulnerable.

And then they started coming.

Businessmen mostly. Middle-aged, some older. Sharp suits, looser ties. Laughter. The smell of whisky and expensive aftershave. Each group was greeted by a bunny girl, who smiled and bowed before ushering them to tables, and shown the sleek black tablets on each table for ordering either drinks or company.

By nine-thirty, it was busy.

The other girls arrived one by one, each like a splash of color across the room. One wore powder blue with a tiny bow at the base of her tail; another was in deep red, with heels so high I wondered how she'd survive the night. There was a blonde in mint green who moved like she was floating, and a girl in lavender who sang softly under her breath. All of them wore the same uniform--tight satin leotards, pantyhose, ears, tails, and collars. But each had their own flavour. Sweet, sultry, aloof, shy, clumsy. It was like watching a living candy box.

The men responded like bees to sugar.

Some leaned in, eyes gleaming. Others cracked jokes too loud, the kind meant to impress or provoke. The girls laughed easily, sometimes genuinely, sometimes with theatrical gasps and touches to the chest. One girl--cream yellow, maybe twenty--nearly stumbled near the bar and giggled, mouthing something to her partner. Her thighs clenched slightly. I knew exactly what had just happened.

And then it happened to me.

I was bringing drinks to a table--two whiskies and a beer--when I felt a hand slide boldly across my backside. I froze for half a second.

"Nice ears," one of the men purred, voice close to my hip. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

I swallowed and forced a giggle. "Reni."

"Reni-chan..." he repeated, as though tasting it. "What a pretty little thing you are new girl."

I smiled and walked away, heart hammering. The moment I turned from their table, my device buzzed.

Hard.

A shock of pleasure jolted up through me and I nearly lost my balance in the heels. I caught myself against a pillar, breathing out through my lips in a quiet, flustered moan. The worst part?

It felt good.

Too good.

Miyu sidled up beside me, pretending to check a tablet. "Welcome to the job," she whispered, eyes glittering. "You okay?"

"I can't even think when that thing's going off."

She laughed. "Then you're doing something right. They're obsessed with you already."

She was right. Everywhere I turned, eyes were following me. Men nudged each other, nodded in my direction, whispered behind their palms. And every few minutes--another buzz. It wasn't constant, certainly not enough to make me orgasm, but it was enough to keep me in this strange edge of arousal and control, like I was walking a tightrope in stilettos.

It was designed that way. The men couldn't drive us too crazy, just enough to knock us off balance or to get our tails twitching and give them a little thrill of control or a laugh at our struggles.

Across the room, one of the girls in lavender leapt onto the tiny podium beside the DJ booth, mic in hand. She bounced lightly, singing some bright J-pop tune, giggling through the chorus as a suited man sang with her, off-key but delighted. Everyone clapped. Another girl did a little spin and blew kisses. It was a theatre of desire, and I was the newest cast member.

Then my tablet chimed.

A request.

From table six.

Miyu glanced over. "That's Shinozaki-san. Regular. Big spender. Be sweet."

I nodded, heart pounding, and walked over.

He was in his fifties, salt-and-pepper hair, thick glasses, and a sharp black suit. He looked at me like a man unwrapping a gift. Then he patted his knee.

"Come here, Reni-chan. Let me get a good look at the new girl."

I hesitated, then stepped closer and sat gingerly on his lap like a child, feeling small and vulnerable in his control.

His hand slid onto my thigh instantly, warm and assertive, rubbing the nylon against my skin. I kept my smile bright, my voice soft even though my nerves were on edge.

"You look very handsome tonight, sir." I managed to stutter, my voice slightly higher and softer than normal.

He chuckled, clearly pleased. I was glad Miyu had helped me with how to talk.

"And you are delicious. Tell me--where are you from? Your features are... exotic."

"I'm half American," I said. "My daddy's from California."

"Ah, I knew it," he said, fingers gently stroking the sheer fabric of my tights grazing the flesh of my thigh through the gauzy material. "The eyes, the lips. So unusual."

His hand drifted higher. I forced another smile, batting my lashes. My device buzzed again--this time slow and steady. I clenched slightly, feeling heat flood my cheeks, hoping that I wouldn't start to get erect while I was sitting on this man's lap, his hand only inches away from my private place.

"Would you join me in a booth, Reni-chan?"

I looked to Miyu, who was passing nearby with a tray of drinks.

She gave me a bright thumbs up, then leaned in quickly and whispered:

"He'll want you to dance. Be soft. Be silly. Try to get him to order the Love Bunny cocktail--pretend it gets you drunk, but it's virgin. You get commission for each one."

I nodded.

"Oh--and be submissive. Laugh at his jokes. Don't seem smart. The dumber and cuter you act, the richer they tip."

My stomach turned, but I nodded again and took the man's hand. He led me toward the hallway of private booths. I heard Miyu call after me:

"Have fun!"

And just as the curtain closed behind us, my device buzzed again.

I gasped.

Then smiled.

And stepped deeper into the fantasy.

------

The booth was like a private karaoke room, and in some ways, that's exactly what it was -- a large TV screen, glossy remote, microphones on stands, and the quiet hum of an AC unit that couldn't quite kill the sweet, stale scent of cologne and champagne.

There was a small plush sofa, room for three at a squeeze. Thick carpet. A lacquered table that glowed softly under the dim lighting, and a pink neon bunny girl that winked above the wall panel -- sexy, lewd, cartoonish.

Shinozaki-san was already seated, one leg crossed over the other, a tumbler of whisky in one hand. His salt-and-pepper hair gleamed under the neon glow, and the thick frames of his glasses caught the soft flicker from the TV. In the light of the club proper, he'd looked like any other tired salaryman in an expensive suit. But here, in the velvet hush of the booth, he had presence -- slick, indulgent, expectant. He looked at home.

He gestured for me to sit and pressed the service button with a single, ring-heavy finger.

Another bunny girl appeared within moments -- this one in violet satin and matching stilettos, gliding in with an effortless air. She held a tray and bowed.

"Girl, a bottle of champagne and two glasses," Shinozaki said.

She bowed politely and turned. Her eyes lingered on me for just a second -- her smile unreadable. Maybe pity. Maybe a warning.

I cursed myself for not asking for a Love Bunny. I'd wanted my head clear with this dirty old man.

"Come," he said smoothly, tapping the seat beside him. I slid in carefully, crossing my legs and smoothing down my leotard. The sheer black pantyhose clung to my skin like smoke -- silky and whisper-light, warm now from my own body heat. I felt every inch of tension where the nylon hugged me, from my toes to the tops of my thighs. Each movement a brush of sensual pressure.

"I've been wanting to meet you," he said, eyes flicking across me like a scan. "Miyu said you were special. A pretty little thing."

I gave the kind of laugh I'd practised in the mirror. High, sweet, modest.

"Thank you, Shinozaki-san. I'm still new."

"Doesn't show," he said, pouring the champagne himself. "You look like a natural."

He handed me a glass, his fingers brushing mine. Not enough to call attention -- just enough to make my spine stiffen.

I took the glass with a polite bow. Just smile. Keep the voice soft. Stay in character. Be submissive.

As I took a small sip I felt his hand on my leg again, slowly moving up my thigh. He started to get too high, too close, I shifted myself a little, edging away, before crossing my legs the other way, slipping my thigh from his grasp.

I didn't want that. Didn't want him touching me like that. But all the same, there was an odd tingle...

He picked a song -- an old Enka ballad I didn't know -- and got up to sing, mic in hand. His voice was thick, nasal, but surprisingly steady.

"Dance for me," he said between verses. "I want to see those pretty legs move."

My stomach fluttered. I wasn't a dancer. Not really. Not like this.

But I stood slowly. Let the music wrap around me. I moved gently at first, letting my hips sway to the beat, arms loose at my sides. I ran my hands down my thighs -- the pantyhose whispering as I brushed the sheer material, shining in the dim light of the room. My heels clicked softly against the carpet as I stepped forward, turned, arched a little, showing off the curvy swell of my behind.

He watched like he was hypnotised.

Mid-song, he reached out, trying to catch my waist. I slipped just out of reach with a playful spin, giving him a little bow and pout.

He laughed. "Tease."

"Club rules," I said sweetly. "Look, don't touch."

He grinned wide and sat back down, still singing, still devouring me with his eyes.

And something changed.

Something lit up in my chest.

Power.

Not just performance -- something more. I was making him want me. Ache for me. And I wasn't giving him a damn thing.

When the song ended, he flopped into the sofa like a satisfied cat, breathless and grinning.

"You're the most beautiful girl here," he said. "No question. The others are cute. But you..."

He fumbled for his wallet and slipped a folded note into my palm. "For being perfect."

I bowed, murmured my thanks, and let myself smile just a little.

When I stepped out into the corridor, it felt like I was gliding. Champagne hummed in my blood. The buzz of adrenaline warmed my skin.

Miyu passed by and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

I held up the tip. "Better than I expected," I said, still surprised by my own honesty. "I... I could do this again."

Miyu laughed. "Told you. Just be sweet."

I nodded, my heart still racing. Somehow, it was getting easier.

And I wasn't sure if I was pretending anymore.

------------

By the time we made it back to the dressing room, my legs were aching and my voice was hoarse from all the laughing, flirting, and faking tipsy giggles. My ass was sore from the constant buzzing and what felt like hundreds of pinches and squeezes. But I couldn't stop smiling. I'd made more in tips than I ever had in a whole week at the café.

Miyu glanced at the numbers on my tablet as I scrolled through them, eyes wide. "Damn, girl," she laughed. "You cleaned up."

I flushed, part pride, part embarrassment. "I think I got lucky."

"No," she said, pulling off her ears and tossing them in her locker. "You got stared at like you were dessert all night. Lucky is someone slipping you an extra tip because you tripped in their lap. You were adored."

I opened my mouth to joke, but just then one of the other girls brushed past us. Her bunny outfit was a glossy emerald green and her heels clicked a little too hard as she passed. Her eyes cut to me, and though she didn't say anything, her sneer did the talking for her.

Miyu caught it too and raised an eyebrow. "Ignore her," she said quietly. "Some girls don't like competition."

I nodded, but it lingered. I was still the new girl. And despite everything, I didn't fully belong. Story of my life.

I began peeling off the layers--heels first, then ears, then collar and cuffs. The tights came next, the faint shimmer of Miyu's glitter oil still catching the light on my skin. Finally I pulled the plug out of my butt, glad to have rid of it for a while, but also feeling empty at the same time.

I glanced over, and Miyu was already undressing. The pink satin outfit slid from her frame like it knew her intimately, revealing the curve of her small chest and the soft slope of her hips and that perfect smooth skin. Her delicate peach of a behind, so soft and feminine.

By the time she was back in her casual clothes--long socks and a fluffy white hoodie--she looked like a completely different person. Sweet. Studious. That quiet girl from the interview again. Not the sort to ever frequent a seedy club like this.

And still, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was still so pretty, just a more wholesome kind.

"You're staring," she said, grinning without looking up.

I laughed awkwardly and turned away, slipping back into my jeans and hoodie. It felt weird to be Ren again after so many hours of being her. To be back to being a boy. My skin still tingled, my lips still held the gloss. My body remembered the eyes, the touches, the buzzes.

But my heart was tugging in another direction now.

I hesitated as she slid her lipstick back into her bag. "Hey, uh..." My voice croaked as I slipped back into a slightly deeper tone.

She looked up.

"Would you want to grab lunch tomorrow?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "My treat. Just... to say thank you. For getting me through tonight."

Miyu's face lit up, no hesitation. "Sure! I'd love that."

I smiled, something tight in my chest loosening. This was just as a friend, to get to know what to do, have someone to share my secret life. Nothing more. She wasn't a real girl, was she? There could never be anything more than someone to confide in, to talk with.

As I headed for the door, she called after me, "See? I told you we'd become friends."

I turned back and met her gaze.

But the thing was... I didn't want to just be friends.

------------

We met at a little café tucked away on a quiet street in Nakameguro, all pale wood and soft jazz and strawberry mille-feuille behind glass. It was the kind of place you'd expect couples to sit holding hands across the table. I was early, nervous. I'd run a hand through my hair a dozen times before Miyu arrived.

When she walked in, her hoodie pulled up against the breeze, her smile made everything else fade. No bunny ears, no glitter, no high heels--just her, glasses on, a little shy, a little sleepy, and still entirely captivating.

"Hey," she said, brushing hair from her eyes and giving me that smile again. "You look different."

I smiled back, motioning to the seat opposite. "So do you."

She slid in, unzipping her jacket. "It's kind of weird seeing you like this," she said after a beat. "Not bad weird--just, you know... without the lashes and lips. As a boy again."

I sipped my coffee. "Do you prefer me as Ren or ReniRose?"

Miyu tilted her head thoughtfully. "Hmm... it's nice to have both, I guess. Like a two-for-one deal." She winked. "Though I have to admit, Reni's cute butt in those tights was hard to ignore."

I laughed, almost spitting coffee. She giggled, proud of herself.

Conversation flowed easily after that. We talked about everything and nothing--music we liked, weird customers, how she first discovered bubble tea, and how I nearly burned down my old apartment trying to cook tempura.

We talked for hours, the coffee cups piling up on our table.

She told me a little more about herself. About studying accounting at college, how she had to break free, then how she came to Tokyo alone when she was just nineteen wanting to find herself. How hard it had been at first, but how the club gave her more than money--it gave her confidence.

"I didn't always look like this," she said softly, glancing around as if the teacups might be listening.

"You're beautiful," I said without thinking.

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

A quiet settled between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. I realised we were leaning closer across the table, our knees brushing now and then. My breath caught in my throat.

Despite everything I thought I knew about my sexuality -- and about her -- the attraction was becoming impossible to ignore. Even though we'd known each other a short while, there was a quiet gravity between us, something warm and magnetic. The way she looked at me with those lingering eyes, the gentle laughter we shared, the light brushes of her hand against mine, the way her head found my shoulder like it belonged there.

It felt like we known each other forever. Kindred spirits. Two lonely boys who had once lived on the edges, uncertain of themselves and where they fitted in. But Miyu had found her way. She seemed so sure now -- elegant, composed, confident in who she was and what she was becoming.

I thought I knew who I was. But after just two days with her, I wasn't so certain anymore.

She started to open up, speaking softly about knowing, even as a child, that she had been born a girl in the wrong body. About the moment she claimed that truth for herself. And as she spoke -- her voice tender but unapologetic -- something shifted inside me.

Her story wasn't just moving. It was seductive. I felt so connected with her.

The more I listened, the stronger the pull became.

I wanted to kiss her. I was pretty sure she wanted that too.

But when I leaned just a little closer, she pulled back--barely, but it felt like a mile.

"I... I can't," she said, voice low. "Let's just stay friends for now Ren. Is that ok?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she said quickly. "No. It's not you." She looked out the window, eyes unfocused. "We've only just met and, well, there's just... someone else. Not like that, I just... I owe him. It's complicated."

She didn't say more, and I didn't push. But something in her voice chilled me. At first I thought it was straight rejection, that I'd called this wrong, she wasn't into me. But there was fear in it--not heartbreak. Fear.

Before I could ask, she blinked it away and smiled again. "Anyway," she said, brighter now. "You ready for another night in heels?"

I nodded, but it took me a second to get the smile right. "As ready as I'll ever be."

We stood together outside the café, the evening air cool and golden. We'd spent half of the day with each other, just talking. She looked up at me, hands stuffed in her pockets.

"Thanks for lunch," she said. "It was... really nice. I'd like to do this again, if that's ok?"

"Yeah," I replied, "It was and I'd love to see you again."

Perhaps it was for the best. I wasn't sure, in the cold light of day, that I could have a relationship with a trans girl, even though that felt hypocritical given what I did of an evening. A relationship would be complicated, with the club and also with our personal lives. I didn't think I was ready for that. Perhaps that's what she guessed.

It's what I told myself, but I didn't really believe it. I liked her, liked her a lot, and I was sure she felt something similar. Perhaps she was telling the truth, that there was someone, and that person was trouble.

She turned to go, pausing just long enough to glance over her shoulder.

"See you tonight, Reni."

And then she was gone.

I stood there for a moment longer, the taste of sweetness still lingering... but something darker had crept in behind it. I didn't know who this "someone" was, but I had a feeling I'd meet him sooner or later.

And I wasn't sure I'd like him.

----------------------

Chapter Four: Bunny girl

----------------------

I lost track of how many nights I'd worked at The Velvet Rabbit. They blurred together--like the soft shimmer of the lights in the main room, like the perfume and champagne, the sound of clinking ice and crooning voices from the karaoke podium.

But I'd gotten good at it and was starting to love it.

I knew how to walk in heels now--well, most of the time. I'd learned how to flirt, how to lean close without seeming desperate, how to sip a Love Bunny cocktail and fake a girlish giggle while a man complained about his wife. I even had a few regulars. Older men in suits who always asked for "the new girl, the black bunny with the western eyes."

ReniRose. Not Ren.

Reni, with her long legs and smoky eyes and glossy black lips.

She was becoming second nature.

And the tips... God, the tips. I'd never seen money like this. It wasn't just what I got from the 'Bunny Buzz' in the club, but quite often crisp notes slipped into the leg band of my leotard, passed discreetly into my hand, or dropped--shamelessly--down the front of my outfit with a wink.

I didn't like everything about it. Some of the customers were sleazy, entitled, too handsy. The buzzing device I wore made it hard to keep a straight face and keep my balance, and harder not show what it was doing to me in the front of my leotard as my discreet bulge grew. Though seeing that only encouraged more bunny buzzes as the patrons enjoyed seeing how embarrassed I became from my growing erection as my bunny tail twitched like crazy.

But the attention... the attention was addictive.

I liked being wanted. Desired. I liked being her. I Iiked her power. Her sexiness, the way men looked at me. How I could control them with a small laugh or a demure smile.

Miyu and I grew even closer too in the short time we'd known each other. She was right when she said she knew we'd be friends. We settled into a rhythm--lunch dates the day after a shift, long chats on a bench by the river, texts that stretched into the early hours. She was so easy to talk to, and we had so much in common. And I felt we were the same, both alone in one of the biggest cities on earth.

I could talk to her about everything. About my dressing up, how it made me feel, my conflicts about it, even my shame at times. Miyu understood, never judged, helped when she could, other times just listened or put an arm around me.

She had a quiet kind of sparkle to her. Not the glittery club kind, not the bunny girl shine. But something softer. When she smiled at me, really smiled, it lit something up inside me I didn't know I'd been missing.

It wasn't the crush I thought at first. I was falling for her. I knew it. My hang ups about her being trans were fading day by day. All I wanted was to be around her as much as possible. My world lighting up each time I got a text from her, or saw her again.

And it was a physical attraction too. I'd watch her get changed, catch her reflection in the mirror as she stripped down. I felt a yearning to feel her in my hands. To kiss her, to be inside of her.

I thought I sure she felt the same. But every time I leaned in too close, every time I said something that hinted at more--her walls went up. She'd change the subject, or say something about how good it was to "just have a friend who gets it."

She did get it. More than anyone ever had.

Still... I couldn't shake the feeling that something--someone--was holding her back.

I didn't even know how to talk about it. About the way she made me feel. About the way I'd catch myself staring at her in the dressing room, admiring the soft slope of her back, the way her eyes scrunched when she laughed.

I'd never pictured myself with someone like her. Despite all the cross-dressing, I'd always thought of myself as straight, rigidly so.

Even when guys messaged me on TikTok or during streams, even when they flirted or sent compliments, it never felt right, even though I responded with a feminine sultry reply.


I dressed like a woman because I liked women, I didn't want to become one.


And yet, with Miyu...

It wasn't that I didn't think she was beautiful--God, she was beautiful.


But there was this knot in my stomach, something tight and complicated. A tangle of everything I thought I knew about myself.


I wasn't gay. I wasn't... anything, really. Just someone who liked satin against his skin and felt giddy when someone called him pretty. That was safe. That made sense.

But this? Wanting her?

It felt like stepping over a line. And still--every time I saw her--I wanted to cross it.

I made a few other friends at the club too. Reina, in her crimson bunny outfit and perfect deadpan sass. Kaoru, who sang karaoke like she'd just stepped off a pop stage. Even little Nami, who couldn't be more than nineteen and blushed crimson every time someone flirted with her.

We laughed in the dressing room, swapped makeup tips, helped each other into tights and heels. We shared stories about the worst customers and celebrated the best ones.

It was strange, surreal even... but I was starting to feel like I belonged. Like Reni belonged.

And for a while, it felt like things might actually be okay.

But late at night, when I peeled off the wig and the tights and the bunny ears, when I lay in my little apartment in the dark, I felt something else.

Not fear, exactly. But something close.

As if I was walking across ice and I hadn't heard the first crack yet... but I knew it was coming.

I was liking being Reni too much. Wanting to be her all the time. I felt it more and more, but didn't dare think it.

--------------

It was a Thursday night and the club pulsed with warmth and perfume, a soft haze of low light wrapping everything in sensual gold. Businessmen lounged at tables, drinks in hand, laughter thick. My heels clicked as I moved between them, hips swaying just enough to catch the attention of the right kind of eyes. I'd gotten good at this--flirty, teasing, never too much. My regulars were here, tipping well. I was starting to enjoy the act. I was her--Reni--when I stepped into this room, and she was sexy and damn good at her job.

I'd bend low to serve their drinks, knowing exactly what they were looking at--my backside, snug beneath sheer, shimmering nylon stretched high up my thigh to my hip. I moved with purpose now, one toe placed elegantly before the other, my hips swaying just enough to tease. The whisper of my pantyhose, the subtle sway of my hips, the click of my heels--it all felt natural. Too natural. Each night I slipped more easily into her--into me. Reni wasn't just an act anymore. She was confidence, allure, power. And I was starting to love how easily she came to life.

Then, without warning, the mood shifted suddenly.

The door opened, and the energy changed like someone flipped a switch. Conversations softened. Laughter dimmed. I turned, curious.

He stood in the doorway like he owned the room.

Mid-forties, maybe. Square shoulders, expensive charcoal suit that didn't come off a rack. His hair was slicked back, eyes hidden behind narrow sunglasses despite the dim lighting. There was something different about him--he was slightly older than our usual clientele, but bigger. Not in size, in presence. Like everyone else shrank around him. His jaw was thick with stubble, his skin a little tanned, a faint scar trailing just beneath one ear. He didn't smile. Didn't need to.

Miyu froze beside the bar, her tray halfway lifted. Then, smoothing her expression, she set it down and approached him, soft as ever. Her voice was too low to hear, but I saw her hand tremble slightly as she passed him a drink, her head bowed.

He said nothing. Just took it, turned to survey the club with the quiet detachment of a man looking over something he already owned, or perhaps a shark prowling a reef looking for dinner options. His eyes swept the room--then landed on me.

I smiled, because that's what I did. But his gaze didn't waver. No smile. Just... watched. Cold, appraising. I shifted under it, suddenly unsure of my stance, my costume, the satin suddenly tighter against my skin, feeling more flimsy than ever. Suddenly I felt like a boy dressing up, wearing a silly costume. My power gone in a flash.

After a moment, he turned away and walked behind the bar, to the door towards the office of the boss.

Miyu followed.

I waited a few minutes, then drifted to the bar, heart still ticking faster than it should've. I leaned over toward Yuzu, the bartender, but she was tight-lipped. So I caught up with Miyu as she returned briefly with an empty tray.

"Who was that?" I asked.

Her eyes flicked to mine. "No one," she said too quickly, too quietly. "Don't worry about it."

"Miyu--"

"Seriously. Just... don't ask." She spoke sharper than I'd ever heard her. After a beat she gave a tight smile and vanished before I could push.

The night went on. I entertained. I smiled. I drank a little too much fake champagne. My little toy buzzed every now and then and men continued to grope and paw at me as I walked past with drinks. But every time I looked over, Miyu wasn't at her usual tables.

Then I realised--she must be in a booth. Serving him.

When he finally left, alone, an hour or so later, Miyu didn't return to the floor.

Something felt wrong.

Later, when the rush died down, I drifted toward the far end of the club--booth 8. I'd never seen inside before. It was a VIP booth, I knew that, but until now, I'd never known a bunny to be invited in.

I pushed open the door, the curtain had fallen open slightly. Inside, Miyu was tugging on her tights, face turned to the wall. Her bunny ears were off. Her hair a little messy. Her collar skewed. Face red and makeup smeared around her face.

She was moving with a stiffness, her usual light elegance gone. There was a pained expression on her face.

She flinched when she saw me.

"I--just needed a break," she said. Too quickly.

But I knew.

She didn't look hurt, not exactly. But she looked... used. Like something tender had been pulled too far.

------------------------

The next day we met under the cherry trees, where the petals fell like slow, silent rain. She was in her usual hoodie and pleated skirt, swinging her feet against the edge of the bench. I brought drinks. I didn't speak at first.

"I saw you last night," I said finally, quiet.

Miyu looked away. "It was nothing."

"It didn't look like nothing."

Silence.

"It looked like..." I struggled to say it. "Like sex. And not just any sex. Like you were being used."

Miyu's jaw clenched. Her hands knotted in her lap.

"That's not supposed to happen," I added, barely above a whisper. "That's not what they said the job was. I was told explicitly that didn't go on in the club."

I felt betrayed, not by Miyu, but by the club. And I was worried for Miyu. She was so small, so petite and full of smiles, unlike the brute who had her in the room.

Still, she said nothing.

"Miyu. Please."

Finally, she turned to me, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed--not with shame, exactly, but something more raw. "His name's Okabe," she said softly. "He... helps run the club. Part-owner. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Her mouth twisted. "I owed him. For some things. The hormones. A few... surgeries. I didn't have the money. So I agreed to--" She stopped. Swallowed. "To this. Whenever he wants."

"Jesus, Miyu."

"I thought I could handle it," she said, voice cracking. "He said he'd help me become who I wanted to be. And he did. But now he owns me. He's... well he's connected. Very well connected. You know what that means in Tokyo? Even the boss is afraid of him."

I didn't know what to say. I reached out, took her hand. She let me.

Her tears welled and spilled. She looked away, blinking fast, but they came anyway -- silent, shimmering down her cheeks.

I pulled her closer. Gently. One arm around her back, the other resting on her hand, still trembling in her lap. She didn't resist. Just leaned in, her weight so slight it made my chest ache.

She sniffed, wiped her eyes, but said nothing. And when our eyes met again, something shifted -- no longer just sympathy, or even friendship.

It was something warmer. Deeper.

For weeks I'd been trying to push the feelings down. Telling myself it was wrong. That I couldn't want her -- not really. Not like that. She was trans, and I was... I didn't even know what I was anymore. But all the rules I'd written for myself were fading, like chalk in the rain.

Because it wasn't about labels anymore. To hell with that. It was about her.

The way she smiled even when she hurt. The way she looked at me like I was more than I believed I could be. The way being around her made me feel--whole, seen, wanted.

And now, seeing her like this--vulnerable, raw, trusting me enough to cry--I couldn't hold it back.

I kissed her.

Soft, unsure--but real.

Her lips trembled beneath mine, still tasting faintly of salted tears. She didn't pull away, not at first. She let it happen, breathed it in. Her hand reached up, touched my cheek like she needed to be sure it was really me.

Then, gently, she broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't. Not right now."

Her voice cracked on the last words. She looked over her shoulder, almost reflexively. Like someone might be watching. Like someone always was.

And in her eyes I saw it -- not rejection. Fear. Real fear.

I swallowed, throat tight. "It's okay," I said softly. "I just... I care about you, Miyu. More than I ever meant to. I want us to be closer, together."

She looked at me, and I saw it in her -- she felt the same. But something held her back, kept her locked behind glass.

"I want more than this place," I said. "For both of us. I don't even know what that looks like. But I know it has to have you in it."

Her fingers tightened slightly on mine. Just once. Then let go.

She didn't answer.

She didn't have to.

But as we stood to leave, she gave me a small smile. A real one. "We've got another shift tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"And... I am glad you're here Reni"

So was I. But something had changed.

The Velvet Rabbit had teeth.

----------------------

Chapter five: This Was Ours

----------------------

I had the next day off from being a bunny girl. I should've been grateful for the breather -- a whole twenty-four hours to myself, no leotard, no heels, no flirting, no tips. But instead of enjoying the peace, I just... drifted.

I spent the morning scrolling through online shops, tossing shiny new things into digital baskets. Clothes, makeup, even a pair of heels I didn't need but couldn't stop thinking about. I'd never had this kind of money before. It should've been exhilarating. After years of counting coins and patching up the same three outfits, now I could buy almost anything I wanted.

Except the only thing I wanted wasn't for sale.

My fingers hovered over my phone more times than I could count. Wondering if she was thinking about me too. About that kiss. Wondering if she regretted pulling away. Or if it meant more than she was letting on.

That kiss played over and over in my head like a song I couldn't stop humming. The warmth of her lips. The way her breath had caught in her throat. The way she'd looked at me afterward -- like she wanted it, but couldn't allow herself to have it.

I told myself to let it go, to stop acting like some hopeless romantic in a bad drama. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw her smile. Heard her laugh. Felt the ache of not having her next to me.

It wasn't just a crush anymore. It wasn't curiosity. It wasn't about gender, or labels, or any of the things I used to tell myself to keep safe.

I was falling for her. Hard.

And it hurt.

When the message came through, I was lying on my bed, half-dressed in cotton panties and a t-shirt, surrounded by eyeliner pencils, tangled tights, and the soft ache of wanting something I couldn't name. I jumped, my nerves on edge, my hand shaking as I held the phone.

Miyu: Can I come over? I just want to be with someone who cares.

This was a first, we'd always met somewhere neutral up to now. Coming here, that felt different. A shift.

Me: Of course. Always.

Miyu: Can you be Reni tonight? I want to see her. Is that ok?

The words made my stomach flip. I sat up, heart thudding. It felt like something was shifting--had been shifting--for weeks. The way she looked at me, the way she touched my hand a little too long. Now this.

I texted her to give me a little time.

Then I opened the drawer where I kept my best things.

I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard--just enough. I tried to keep my expectations down, she might just need a friend, nothing more, even though that was what I yearned for. But I still wanted to be sexy, for Miyu to want me again. To kiss me again, and maybe more.

I chose the black lace bralette with the scalloped trim, the one that sat like a secret under my ribs. I matched it with a sheer mesh top that clung to my skin, subtle glitter woven through the fabric like stars. Then came the skirt--black satin, short and flared, with a lace trim that fluttered just above my thighs.

Underneath, I slipped into a very special pair of black sheer stockings, held snug by delicate red garters that clung to my thighs like a whisper.

Just the sight of those lace tops peeking out when I moved made my breath hitch. The nylon hugged my legs like a second skin--cool at first, then warming with every shift of my body, every slow drag of fabric against flesh.

They were my favorite pair--French and expensive, with a fine seam running up the back like a secret meant to be followed. I'd bought them with my first proper tips at the Velvet Rabbit, a quiet indulgence I'd never regretted, even though this was their first time out of their packet. The fabric had a faint, oily shimmer, catching the light and making my legs glow, like they'd been dipped in ink and desire.

Wearing them made me feel expensive. Made me feel wanted. I hoped Miyu would feel the same.

I styled my hair, rather than bother with my pink wig. My long blonde locks looked sufficiently girly styled the right way. I wanted to be a natural version of Reni as I could. Someone who was increasingly becoming my true self more than I liked to admit.

Next dark lipstick. Kohl liner that bled just a little at the edges. My choker with the silver ring.

The girl in the mirror was me--but more. Pale, soft, dangerous. Desperate to be wanted. Reni Rose.

When Miyu knocked, I opened the door with trembling fingers.

She looked beautiful -- heartbreakingly beautiful -- standing in the doorway of my tiny flat like some fragile, violet dream. Her hair was half up, curled soft around her jaw, the rest tumbling down her back. The slip dress she wore shimmered like twilight, clinging to her curves in the low light. A long cardigan hung off her shoulders, as if she couldn't quite decide whether to let herself be vulnerable.

But it was her eyes that caught me. They flicked down, then up again. Nervous. Hopeful.

For a moment we stood there looking at each other in silence.

But it wasn't empty. It was charged. Her eyes held mine -- wide, searching, almost trembling with something just barely restrained. There was a softness to her gaze, but behind it, a flicker of fire, of longing, of fear and hope tangled together. My breath caught. I could feel it -- not just attraction, not just nerves, but something deeper passing between us. I felt it in the way her lips parted like she might speak and then thought better of it. In the way her fingers curled lightly into the fabric of her cardigan, gripping it like a lifeline. She didn't need to say a word. I knew. She wanted this. Us. And in that heartbeat of stillness, I wanted nothing more than to close the space between us.

And then she kissed me -- no warning, no words.

Her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of peach tea and gloss. Her hands slid over my waist, finding the hem of my mesh top and tugging me closer until there was no space left between us.

Lace met silk. My heart was thundering. Hers was too -- I could feel it against my ribs like a drum.

The kiss was urgent, tender, searching. We kissed like we were starving for each other. As if something holding our passion back had finally been released.

When she finally pulled back, her breath caught, her pupils wide and dark. "You're so fucking pretty," she whispered. "It drives me crazy."

I laughed, too full of emotion to speak. "You should see yourself."

"I have," she said, her lips brushing mine again. "Now take me to your bed."

Something in me melted. Or maybe it ignited. But I didn't want to hurt her, or for her to hurt me. This felt so fast and sudden.

"Miyu... I want you too. I want you so bad. But are you sure about this? What about--?"

She touched my cheek, firm but gentle. "Reni, I need to feel love. To feel cared for. I need tenderness. You're all I've been thinking about these past weeks. I want you to make love to me. I want to feel safe. to feel you inside of me. I want you. Can I have that?"

The words hit me like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. I'd dreamed of this moment -- but even in my fantasies, it had never felt like this. Like my heart might burst open. Like I was standing on the edge of something that could change me forever.

"Yes," I said, my voice shaking with joy. "God, yes."

As I led her to the bed, fingers entwined, I felt the rush of something more than lust. More than longing.

And I didn't want to run from it anymore.

The room was warm and dim, the only light coming from the streetlamp bleeding through my blinds. Miyu stood at the edge of the futon and let the cardigan slip from her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra. The silk slip underneath clung to every curve, the faint outline of her body like poetry, her nipples pressing gently into the silk.

She walked toward me, and I couldn't move.

She reached for the hem of my top, sliding it up slowly. "Can I see you?"

I nodded. "I want you to."

She undressed me like I might break, fingertips brushing my ribs, my waist, my thighs. When her lips kissed the spot just under my jaw, I gasped--and that's when the last of my hesitation melted.

I reached for her too. My hands slid up the back of her thighs, under the hem of her dress, until I could cup her perfectly. Her body was warm, delicate, trembling.

"I've never done this with someone like you," I whispered.

"Someone like what?" she asked gently, eyes searching mine, a wry look to her sparkling eyes.

"Someone I... love."

Her face broke into something soft and unguarded. She kissed me again--slow, deep--and then pushed me down onto the futon.

We explored each other slowly. Mouths and hands learning new languages. I kissed the inside of her wrist, her shoulder, the dip of her spine. She tugged at my panties, teasing with her tongue, then pulled them down, crawling between my thighs like she knew exactly what I needed.

I cried out when her mouth touched me. It was too much, too perfect--her tongue moving slowly, then faster up and down my penis. It was.. electric.

Her hand stroked my thigh and then my hip, finally moving around to my back side, her fingers slipping around my cheeks, so gently, so tenderly. Slowly she slipped her hand in-between the cleft of my cheeks and then, with a gentle push, squeezed a finger inside of me. I gasped. I could have pushed her away, but I didn't.

I'd never let anyone touch me there, somewhere so intimate, before, so forbidden. But in her hands, it felt ok, it felt good. In fact, it felt wonderful

My legs trembled. My hands clawed at the sheets. I was hot, moaning, barely able to think. Every time I whimpered her name, she rewarded me with more. Taking me deeper into her mouth, her fingers working harder, teasing my hole.

Miyu's touch sent sparks spiralling through me, building wave after wave until I was trembling, helpless against the rhythm of her mouth, the aching sweetness of it all--I couldn't hold back any longer and the world blurred and I came undone in a blinding, shattering rush of pleasure.

With a surge of my orgasm I exploded, all over her, my cum coating that perfect pretty face, her mouth wide open, desperate for my seed while I was gasping her name like a prayer, still gripping the sheets as the pleasure pulsed through me. Miyu smiled at me as drops of my white fluid ran slowly down her cheeks like tears of joy.

While I recovered she licked every drop off her face, cleaning herself like a cat who had indulged in too much cream, smiling at me with that warm grin I loved so much.

"Hmmmm you taste like a dream, Reni. Like sugar and something secret."

I worried that after I'd feel shame, or even worse, repulsion. But no, all I felt was happiness and joy. Joy that someone I loved so much felt the same way about me. This felt right, not wrong. Perfect in fact.

I pulled her up, kissed her lips--tasting myself on her tongue--and slid the dress from her shoulders. She was perfect, all soft skin and breathy sighs, her small cock already hard against my belly.

I looked at it. Another moment I expected to feel that I might turn, might run away. But no, it was a part of her, and it was just as gorgeous as the rest of her.

And then I felt a desire, one I'd never thought I'd have in a million years. I wanted her to feel how I'd just felt. To give her something of the gift she'd just given to me.

"Let me?" I whispered.

"Reni, are you sure? You don't have to baby."

"I want to Miyu, I want to taste you so badly. Will you let me?"

She nodded as I bent over to repay her tenderness.

She was clean shaven below, her skin perfect and soft. Below her cock looked just so pretty, so petite, and as smooth and delicate as the rest of her. I yearned to taste her. All my hang ups fading away.

I went slow--stroking her, kissing down her chest, until finally I reached her penis. I leaned in and licked the head, tasting her for the first time. She tasted sweat and a little salty. It was nice. It was her.

I carried on, my tongue lapping at her gently, teasing her until she was shaking. I wanted more now. I wanted that next step. I slipped my lips around her, not too far, just letting the tip sit in my mouth, hearing Miyu gasp as my lips wrapped around her cock as my tongue continued to tease her.

When I finally took her into my mouth, her fingers tangled in my hair and she gasped, hips bucking pushing her deeper in past my lips, filling me with her delicious cock.

There was no thoughts that this was wrong, only the wondrous feeling of having her inside of me, all the way, of giving her pleasure. I sucked her gently, then harder, letting her feel how much I wanted this, wanted her.

I could feel her twitch in my mouth as I delicately teased her small, tight little scrotum with my fingers. Everything about her male parts was so delightfully feminine, so much so the thought of stopping never crossed my mind.

"Oh Reni, oh that feels so nice. So good. Hmmmmm! Oh baby!!"

I was loving having her cock in my mouth, surprising myself at how much I was enjoying it. I wanted it all, I wanted as much as I could get. I wanted it ever last drop.

I started to move faster, slurping and suckling her, my lips wrapped tight around her, sliding her all the way in till my nose touched warm softness of her smooth skin, my tongue teasing her as I did.

I was desperate for her to cum in me now, to taste her seed, like she had mine. To show her my love and devotion for her.

She moaned my name over and over, and then, with a shake and a whimper, she came with a shudder, spilling into my mouth, grabbing my hair as she held on for dear life.

"Ohh fuckkkkk! Oh god Reni, oh fuck!"

Miyu pulled me up to her face, kissing me deeply. Passionately as we swapped her cum between us, our tongues dancing on each other. Our arms holding each of us tight.

She pulled back, her eyes wide as her smile as I swallowed every last drop of her seed.

"That was wonderful Reni. But are you ok? I know you've never done anything like this before. We can stop if you want some time?"

"I loved it, Miyu. It was just perfect. You are my perfect first time my love."

She smiled back at me. There it was. The wonderful warm smile, full of joy, the one that lit up my heart every time I saw it.

"Do you want to go further my love?"

I nodded, eager for whatever was next.

Her hand slipped down, down to my cock, now it was eager and erect again, desperate for more, more of her. My body was on fire.

"I want you inside me Reni. Make love to me please. Is that ok?"

Miyu lay down on her back onto my bed. Gently I parted her legs, she pulled them wide welcoming me into her. I could see her soft pink ring, looking so inviting with a slight gleam to it from the lube, making it glisten invitingly. She must have prepared herself earlier, telling me that this was what she wanted too, she wanted me inside of her, to make love to her.

Her face burned with raw desire, our eyes locking in a silent, searing promise.

I slid between her legs, my heart beating, not from fear, but excitement. I felt her soft thighs wrap around mine. My cock was pressed against her warm naked flesh, feeling her heat and her softness. For a moment I rubbed myself up and down, my cock pressed against hers. Touching each other. She oohed with pleasure as our penis's met, our heads kissing each other, mine damp with pre-cum. Her's glistening from my saliva. It was then I slide myself down and pressed against her hole.

I started to ease my cock into her, slowly at first, wanting to feel her and not cause her any pain. I wanted to feel every inch. It wasn't as hard to do as I'd feared, Miyu encouraging me each step of the way, stroking my arms, letting me know it wasn't hurting.

"Oh Reni, that feels so nice. Push inside of me. Take me baby."

Miyu was starting to feel tighter, gripping my head, but my cock was stiff and eager to be inside of her, I pushed in further, feeling a pop as my head finally slipped deeper into her. She cooed as I slowly slid in, deeper and deeper still.

Soon our hips were touching. I couldn't believe what I was doing. That this would have been unthinkable, and yet now it felt so right. No doubts in my mind now, just joy and love. In fact I kept wanting to pinch myself, to prove this was real and not some fantasy.

I leant over, kissing that perfect mouth once again, before moving my body, fucking her gently. Rocking my hips as she stroked my arms, welcoming me deeper inside of her.

In that breathless moment, the world fell away, and all I felt was the heat of her skin pressed close to mine -- a quiet fire burning deep between us, raw and utterly unguarded. Our hearts tangled in a whispered rhythm, every touch a wordless promise, every gasp a confession. It was more than desire; it was a fragile, fierce connection, where time stilled and nothing else existed but the soft weight of her body against me, the pulse of our shared longing.

"Oh god, oh baby that feels so good. Feels so good inside me. Oh, I love it. I love you. Oh baby, please fuck me!"

She wrapped her legs tighter around my waist, pulling me closer towards her. I'd never felt so connected to another person as I did in that moment, making love to my Miyu.

We started to move together, her adjusting her hips and mine thrust in and out, faster and faster.

I was so close--every movement, every breath, every whispered word from Miyu pulling me deeper, until the pressure inside me was almost too much.

Her hand found mine, fingers laced, and she whispered, 'Let go, baby, I've got you.' And with her lips on my neck and her body wrapped around mine, I gave in--lost in the overwhelming rush of love and pleasure, and the quiet, aching beauty of being hers as I thrust in hard.

I felt myself flood into her, my warmth rushing forward, filling her as she kissed me deeply.

In that fragile, infinite moment, it wasn't just desire-- it was love, fierce and tender, folding me into a quiet, aching beauty I had never known before; the exquisite joy of belonging wholly to her.

------------------

Later, we lay tangled in the sheets, skin still warm and humming with the memory of each other.

The room was quiet but full -- full of breath, of heartbeats, of something new and fragile blooming between us.

I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and asked softly, "Why tonight?"

Miyu curled tighter into me, her fingers tracing idle circles on my chest. Her voice was a murmur against my skin. "Because I needed to feel like I was mine again. And with you... I do. It killed me to keep pushing you away, I just couldn't anymore. I needed to feel wanted. To feel loved."

I kissed her temple, holding her a little tighter. "You are. More than I knew I could."

She looked up at me then, eyes shining in the low light. "You've really never been with a girl like me before, have you?"

I hesitated, but shook my head. "No."

Her gaze flickered with worry. "Are you okay? I mean, really okay? I know sometimes people--after--it hits them, and they--"

"Regret it?" I interrupted gently. "No. God, no. I thought I might. Honestly I thought it would mess with my head. But it didn't. It just... felt right. So right I can't even explain it."

I cupped her cheek. "I was scared it would change something in me. That it would mean something I wasn't ready for. But now I think... maybe this is who I was always meant to be."

Her eyes filled again, but this time with something softer. "I don't want to hurt you, Reni. I'm not easy. I've been used. Kept quiet. Being with me is dangerous. And I'm still scared."

"I know," I whispered. "I'm scared too. But I want you."

"I want you too," she said, her voice catching. "Not just tonight. I don't want this to be a secret. Or a mistake."

"Then let's not let it be," I said. "We'll figure it out. Whatever this is. Whatever we're becoming."

She smiled, small and trembling. "Together?"

I nodded, heart so full it almost hurt. "Together."

And in that quiet moment, wrapped in each other's arms, I stopped being just Ren pretending to be Reni. I was Reni -- not a costume, not a lie. Just a girl in love, holding the woman who made her whole.

----------------------

Like what you've read? Want more of Reni and Miyu and the Velvet Bunny?

Their story isn't over...

Follow me for the second part where the stakes rise--old secrets, new desires... and the kind of danger you don't walk away from untouched.

Reni's journey is just beginning. The heels get higher; the lies get darker--and love might be the most dangerous thing of all.

If you made it this far and enjoyed yourself, a sweet little comment always makes my heart skip a beat and brightens my day. ????

And don't be shy--drop me a message if you'd like. I always try to reply (if you want me to).

T ???? xxx