Two trannies decide to cut each other, and one pushes the other past her limits.
Cw: noncon, age regression and abuse of age regressed person, cutting
The bathroom counter provides a grounding coolness on my palms pressed heavy onto it. A small dish with a pair of freshly sterilized razors rests next to my hand. My blood pumps so aggressively looking at it, heating me until I’m sweating. I’m such an idiot saying yes to something like this, but my pathetic t4t heart can’t say no to a maternal tranny. The girl patiently waiting in her bedroom is indeed maternal, and has enough years on me to be an “older woman.” The thought of how ridiculously hot she is overrides any judgement I have. “Older alternative trans woman” are my four favourite words, and the fact she lets me call her “mommy” when she’s inside of me drives me crazy to the point of dangerous recklessness.
I pick up the little dish, and try to still my shaking hand. I take a few deep breaths as I enter her bedroom. She gives me a reassuring smile. Fuck she’s so goddamn mommy! My brain melts a little at the smallest show of affection from her.
“Come here cutiepie.” Fuck I’m such a loser. I set the dish down and crawl onto the bed. She opens her arms to me and I crawl to her, leaning my head against her chest, feeling like I’m a sad child again. Which is really, really hot, and I am not unpacking that right now, or ever probably.
“There we go, all comfy in mommy’s arms.” Her voice is to my rotten brain what a warm tea is to a sore throat. It feels comforting, healing and makes me feel clean in a strange way. Like I’m pure and innocent again, and not a fucked-up self-harming tranny. The ever-present feeling of guilt inside me fades for the moments that she speaks.
“Yeah. This is probably a really bad idea.”
“Definitely.” She giggles so softly. “Do you wanna make bad, fucked up decisions with me?” I giggle as well.
“Yeah. Fuck it. Nothing I haven’t done before, well sort of.” I pull the long sleeved shirt up and reveal the plethora of thin scars lining my arms. Thick streaks of collagen decorate her arms with stripes, a long history of regularly cutting far deeper than I ever did. She gives a gentle push, gesturing for me to sit up.
We sit cross legged with the razors between us, the lights from her LEDs reflecting around the dish.
“You look so pretty angel.” She always says I look cute when I smile, so it’s so much easier not to feel self conscious when I do. Self conscious of looking happy and carefree, god I’m such a mess. “I can tell you’re thinking again. Look at me.” I do as I’m told. “You are so pretty! Mommy’s gorgeous little angel!” She grabs my cheek and shakes me excitedly. “So pretty! And I think you’ll look prettier with some blood on you.” She takes a razor and holds it up.
“Since you’re nervous, you want me to go first?”
“Okay babygirl.” She sets the razor between my index finger and thumb, the cold shocks my anxiety-filled system and I jump a little. “Be a big girl. Hurt me.”
“Yes, mommy.” I lean over her as she extends her arm into my lap. The rigid edge of the razor pricks her skin, not quite enough pressure to tear it apart yet.
“Do it.” Her words are powerful, they turn desire into action. They turn me into a puddle of anxiety so fucking scared to disappoint her. The razor glides smoothly across her, barely any resistance as it splits her epidermis, revealing the beautiful pale dermis underneath. It is washed in a stream of blood shortly after, covering itself up once again.
“You’re such a silly girl. Is that how deep you cut?”
“Um, yeah.” My hand shakes as I answer, and I hold the razor away from her skin.
“Hah! You really are scared! It’s okay babygirl, mommy can take it. You wanna make me happy right?”
“I really do mommy!” I sound stupid.
“Good girl. Do better this time, okay?” I nod, as an ache constricts my throat. I feel like I’m about to cry for disappointing her. She reaches her undamaged arm up, and strokes my cheek.
I line the razor up, about to cut across a scar. There isn’t much space to cut any fresh skin, scars on top of scars. I dig the corner of the razor in again, pressing it firmly into her. She still peels apart so easily, even when she’s split deep enough for the cut to be over a centimetre wide.
“Fuck baby that’s it. That’s what I need.” The blood pools in it slower, and I get more of a glimpse at the beauty inside her skin. It’s so beautiful. The canyon-like appearance of the gash in her. The layer of skin pulled apart surrounded with the crimson of the blood blending into the LEDs, giving it an almost black appearance. I love the red, but the heavy lights give it such a surreal feeling, like she’s made of more than just blood. She lifts her arm up to her face, and plunges her tongue into the cut, lapping up the stream of blood running down her arm.
“More baby. Give me more.” Of course I will, anything for you. I line my steel up again, more sure of myself, my grip, and the steadiness of my hand. I press in so easily this time. Fuck, now it’s a rush! The anxiety swept away with the burning perversion pumping adrenaline through me. I dig in deeper, and she moans so deeply as I glide across her.
“Fuck yes baby! God yes.” I look up at her as I pull the razor away. My face is in a stupid ecstatic grin as I gaze at her beauty. She grabs my face with her free hand, the other laying limp against my legs. “Fuck you are such a good girl! Seriously, you are amazing!” Her hand wraps around the back of my head and pulls me into her lips, her tongue immediately piercing into my mouth and rubbing against mine. She moans into me and grabs my hair roughly, then pulls back as quickly as she forced herself in.
“Do more for me honey. I, yeah I need more.” The cuts form pretty rows as I slide the blood coated razor across her repeatedly. She kisses me in between each cut, and her iron taste fills my mouth as she does.
I’ve worked my way up her arm, over ten cuts, when she finally asks me to slow down. She looks satisfied, more so than I've ever seen her. I made her satisfied. The thought brings a wider smile to my face. She takes my head in her hands, more blood still dripping onto my thighs and the sheets.
“You did so well babygirl. So amazing.” She strokes my hair, scratching my scalp. I lean into her touch, once again turned into a brainless puddle for her. “I love you.”
It’s the first time she’s told me. We’ve only known each other for a few months, and been intimate for a month or so. She brings out every reckless impulse, desperation for attachment and obsession. I love her too. I love her more than anyone, ever.
“I love you too.” She throws herself at me, knocking me onto my back as she drives her tongue past my lips and traps my tongue into the back of my mouth. She attacks me with her passion, overwhelms my senses, and brings a slight satisfaction to my unending need for affection.
“Mommy loves you so much.” I pull her into me, needing her warmth to completely envelop me.
“I love you. I love you so much mommy.”
“You're perfect, angel. So perfect. I need to see inside you. Will you be a good girl for me? Let me tear you apart? I need to show you how I love you.”
“It's uh, it's a lot. I don't know if I can take that much.”
“It's okay babygirl, I'll be here for you the whole time.” She sits up, and pulls me up along with her. “You'll love it. I promise.” Her lips peck along my neck, quickly and wild at first, then slow and more forceful. She sucks on my skin, pulling it with her teeth, eliciting many moans from me.
“That's right.” More kisses. “I know what you want, angel. Just let me take care of you.” Her kisses end as quickly as they started, and while I'm still in a daze from her affection, she deftly raises the razor to my arm. “Your skin is so pretty. This is like, well not taking your virginity, but giving you the first actually good fuck of your life. You're gonna be just like me! Just like mama.”
“Wait I'm, I'm no-!” Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! The pain sears up my arm, lighting up nerves all the way up to my shoulder. It all burns.
“Yes baby! You're so perfect!” The blood already starts to pour as I collect myself and gaze at the new gash in me. It's huge, and deep. It wraps diagonally halfway across my forearm. In seconds my face is wet with tears, and I sniffle and whine as she drags the razor across my skin again, gentler, shallower. My mind drifts, my thoughts slowing, and my emotions take over.
“M-mom-mommy,” I whine again, unable to speak properly anymore. The gash forms a second shorter line next to the first. Her hands are stable, precise, and the gashes match together.
She lifts my arm up to her, and lowers her face to examine it closely.
“Beautiful. It’s beautiful, angel. You’ve never looked as pretty as this. You’re perfect.” I try to form a response through my sobs.
“Shhhh baby, you’re okay, mommy’s here. Just be a good girl for me okay?” Her comforting words slow my tears, but still I shake from the violent sobs. She caresses my cheek, then pulls me into her chest. “You’re okay angel, I’ve got you.” She's so, so warm, her body and her words. She’s a good mom. She’s scary. I love her.
“Oh, that’s no good.” She lifts my arm up higher, blood trailing all down my it. “We don’t want this making a mess do we?” A long drag of her tongue across my arm cleans up the flowing trail of blood before it drips too much blood around. She laps at me repeatedly as she works her way up to the gashes. “You taste so good babygirl.” The pain sears again as she prods my wound with the tip of her tongue, dragging it up and down the cut. “Good girl. You like it when mommy tongue-fucks that pretty gash of yours babygirl?”
“N-nooooo,” I whimper. She licks up the new trail of blood quickly forming, then plunges her blood-covered tongue into my mouth. She presses into me violently, and iron fills my tastebuds.
I gasp for air as she pulls back, attacking my neck with bites and kisses.
“You’re such a good little girl baby,” She whispers so gently in my ear.
“Oh, poor thing. You need mommy to make you feel better?”
“Mhm,” It’s so hard to even say a single word through my tears.
“Come here angel.” My body is so weak compared to hers I’m practically limp; she forces my head into her chest, and squishes her breasts against my face. She hums lightly as she pets my hair, and I feel the rumble of her chest on my cheek. “You’re okay baby, just a little more and mama will be happy.” Despite how hard I recoil, I can’t pull my head away from her at all. “You’ll look so pretty for mama, won’t you?”
“Oh, don’t worry baby, it’ll only hurt a little, and mommy will be here for you.”
Even filled with adrenaline my body is almost limp, my whimpers sapping away my energy. The razor flashes as she raises it again, holding my arm tightly in place so I can’t squirm away. I feel so terrified of the razor, and still so safe in her grip.
“Stay still now sweetie.” The corner of the razor presses into my skin, shallower now. I twitch a little, any actual fight already long gone.
“Stay still! Silly girl.” She works quickly, deftly splitting my skin apart.I manage to keep my sobs slow and quiet, the pain quickly becoming familiar. The clink of the razor against the dish lets me know it’s over. She examines her work, before angling my arm to show it to me.
“It’s a heart! To show you how much mama loves you. You can always see mama’s love on your arm now!” She gives me the gentlest kiss on my forehead. “Mama loves you so so much angel. You’re perfect. Mama couldn’t ask for a better little girl.” She strokes me so gently. “Mama loves you. I love you so so much. I’ll be here for you forever baby, I wanna be your mama forever.” She lifts my head from my chin until I meet her gaze. “You’re gonna be my good little girl, aren’t you?”
“That’s right. Good girl,” she coos. “You’re the best little girl a mama could ask for.” Her words turn into a light humming, and I nuzzle up into her further. My racing heartbeat slows, as do my thoughts, and soon I fall asleep in mama’s arms.
