Oh, babygirl… I know what I want, and I get it.

Sweet sister, I am devouring you. I’m removing your nightgown and pushing into sensitive places. Consuming what I find like a starving stray. I’m drinking saliva and sucking salt from skin and lapping up secretions. I’m sucking nipples and swallowing tongues. I suck and nip and chew and swallow. I’m insatiable and unstoppable, and as I bring you to the brink I drink till my face glistens.

As you come down from your haze, I lick myself clean and brush your hair from your eyes. My hunger is real but so is my affection. You may be my meal, but I care about your presentation. Good food comes from happy sources, and a meal is always better when it’s shared and appreciated.

I place my hand on your damp cheek and caress it with my thumb. We cannot speak without danger, so I hope the small gesture is enough. You press into my hand and kiss my fingers, looking up at me with brilliant eyes. They speak the words your mouth cannot.

Please, love. Feed me as well.

I lower myself to put my breasts within reach. With reverence you reach up with small lips and take a nipple into your mouth. I’m not a sensitive girl, but the feeling nourishes me.

Carefully, l guide my cock to your slit. It’s slick with spit and secretions. Ready for a second course.

I kiss your hair and rut against you. My head is soft, broad, and pressed against your clit. The pressure is delicious. Your sensitivity makes you weak and I have to cover your mouth to quiet you. It’s enough that you whimper into my chest. You need more. You must be starving.

I pull away and your face flickers with distress that fades when I move to pierce you. I press my fingers into your fleshy hip and press into to you slowly, more so than your wetness requires. I may eat ravenously but you, sweet girl, take a slower pace. It makes for a better meal.

I’m barely push past the tip and already your cunt begs for more. It pulls at me hungrily, beckoning me, trying to pull me into a wet-hot furnace of relentless heat. I don’t want to resist you, not tonight. So I grab your waist firmly and push myself to the hilt.

You cry into my hand as the edges of your vision blur. I’m overwhelming in the best way and you’re drinking it up. Your core tightens and lifts from the bed, but I pin you down with my hand. I look at you fiercely, reminding you to control yourself. You whimper but nod. I reassure you with my eyes.

Patience, please. I’ll give you what you need.

Still fully inside you, I grind myself upwards into your weakest spot. I’ve decided how you will come this time.

My pace is both infuriating and overwhelming. Seconds become minutes and minutes become . . . something untraceable. You’re disintegrating nerve by nerve. You think you hear whispers but your heartbeat obscures them. Your body is a concept that you’re actively forgetting.

There is only pressure, pleasure, and a building desire for release. You want to taste it. You want to take it inside you. To feel it flooding your womb; to feel it leaking so you can swipe it up and swallow it and fall asleep with the taste on your tongue.

And suddenly it’s upon you. It’s right there within reach. You could reach out, take it with your fingers, and swallow it whole. But you don’t. You’re a good girl who asks for permission. You can’t take the last bite alone. The knowledge is burned into your brain.

Your pleading eyes tell me what you need. I smile and decide against sadism. That can wait. You’ve been such a good girl tonight. An excellent feast. I bend over and say,

“At your discretion.”

The effect is instant. It seizes your entirely frame and forces a broken moan from your throat. The force of my palm over your mouth only makes you come harder. Simultaneously, I burst inside of you as your orgasm clamps down on me. I moan and whimper into your shoulder, trying and failing not to bite the flesh there. When I release, I can see the outline of my teeth. It’ll need to be covered up tomorrow, but I’ll take care of it in the morning.

Eventually you exit freefall. I pull out after counting down and then you feel it. It’s warm against the cold air that assaults your slit, almost ticklish as it pours down and out of your canal. As discretely as you can, you take two fingers and swipe some away to taste. I grin and pretend not to notice the small indulgence.

It feels good for you to want me like that. I try to tell you with kisses and aftercare.

Minutes pass. The moon begins to fall in the sky outside your window. We both know I can’t stay, but leaving is painful. I look at you as if to say,

Someday we won’t have to hide. I promise you.

We each know it’s a promise with no guarantee, but the alternative is too painful to bear. So, after enough time passes, I pull myself away from you with a kiss to your forehead.

I mentioned incest in a, “my teacher told us incest was immoral so it must be icky,” kinda way. And she turned to me with kind eyes and asked me, “(deadname), what about it makes it immoral if both persons are consenting?”

I looked at her, then at my hands, then back to her while she waited patiently for me to think. After about half a minute I told her, “I can’t think of a reason why it would be, actually.”

She smiled at me and put her hand on my back and said, “Sweetheart, we should always try to be open minded when it comes to love and sex. Just because you don’t understand someone’s love; if it’s not abusive, then what place do we have to judge? We should try to understand, not condemn.”

♫ “I want to live in the in-between, where this love is not about you and me” ♫

I nod to myself, reaffirm myself, wring my sore hands together. I’m going to shed my broken self tonight. Become something new again. Someone worth the love you once gave me.

As the lyrics slip from my lips, you stir. But you merely turn your head to face me. I watch the lean muscle in your neck flex as you complete the motion.

You don’t wake. Good, I was careful when I tied the knots. The corners of my mouth lift as I breathe in for the next line. I was such a good girl, sis. I followed the guidebook to the letter; studied so studiously, just like you do.

♫ “You or meeeeeee” ♫

You furrow your brows at the words and I feel faint. An incredible fondness buds in me. Yes, that’s right, sis. So right, so right. Our bond is so much more than you or me.

♫ “ohhhhhhhhh” ♫

A strand of hair falls across your face, tickling your nose. I brush it gently behind your ear and you smile at me, scrunching your nose a few times as you resettle.

I’m feel like I’m soaring. Or is that the alcohol? Nevermind that, I’ve had far less than you have. Though you didn’t drink much at that party, per se. I gave you something stronger. Something necessary. What was needed and a little extra, for later this evening.

I look up from your bonds and stare at your face. Still perfect; divine, even. My hand twitches in anticipation. I want to run my fingers through your hair. I want to run my hand along your transformed body. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. A whole two years, sis. Can you believe it?

♫ “you can go left or right” ♫

Twenty-four months. One-hundred and four weeks. An eternity I thought would never end. The thought draws my hand to scratch at the space between my breasts. My fingernails tear at the edges of bandage there. The wound itches but I swear to you, sis. I won’t scratch it.

I’ve I found you again. I have to look good for you too.

♫ “you can flee, try to fight” ♫

I didn’t do well after you ended it, sis. I was half-crazed, disoriented. I lost everything those first few months. I wasn’t myself. I was grief wrapped in a bag of skin.

I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t do anything but look for you. What was the purpose of a job without you? What was the purpose of my friends without you? Of my life?

I laugh nervously through my song. I had to crash with Dan for a while. You remember him right? Tall, kinda lanky? A disgusting incel, but nice enough. I know you wouldn’t approve, but I couldn’t keep sleeping on the streets, baby. And he took the only currency I had. I hope you don’t mind. I washed my mouth with bleach later. I promise it’s clean.

I robbed him blind later after I found sufficient blackmail. So no worries, sis. We’re safe from him. He knows the next time he sees me will be the last time he sees me.

♫ “but I’ll be right here loving you anywayyyyy”♫

Oh gosh, you’re really starting to stir. I know I need to fix myself but I can’t look away. You’re an angel, baby. My closest link to divinity. You’re a goddess.

Did you know that I prayed for you when things were at their darkest? When I tried to silence my grief with drugs and sex. When I stared at my bathtub for five hours when I was shaving. You kept me going, sis.

You’re the reason I’m here.

♫ “loving you anyway” ♫

But, sis, you must understand. Wait. Wait no, I shouldn’t make requests of someone such as yourself. I shouldn’t ask you to understand me. That’s something you have to do yourself. Consent is so important.

You taught me that, baby. Remember?

♫ “I’m not concerned” ♫

You yawn and stretch. The way your naked body strains against the ropes sets my loins ablaze. It’s shameful, really, what seeing you again after so long has done to me.

When I saw you again for the first time last month, sis? You were in that coffee shop near the park with the mermaid fountain. The one you always stop at on Tuesday’s and Thursdays before you head to class?

Baby that destroyed me. I couldn’t help myself. I took so many photographs. I was crazed. I entered some sort of frenzy. I got them printed, you know. Even the ones where idiots and fools stood in the way. Dozens of large format prints. Expensive but worth it.

I needed them for my walls, baby. I needed to be surrounded by you.

♫ I take no offense ♫

My desire for you was so strong that I bled that night. It was the first time I bled from down there when I wasn’t on my period. I must say, the dull ache it left behind was so much nicer than the cramps I felt the next day.

I rut gently against your chair at the memory. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed it, sweetheart. It smells like you. Everything in here smells like you.

♫ if you need someone, want somebody else ♫

I brush the back of my hand against your check, touch featherlight and reverent.

Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t ask you to leave her. Whoever she is to you. She means nothing to me. Nothing.

I grab the edge of your seat a bit harder than I intend. It creaks and my hands fly up. Oh I hope I didn’t crack the plastic. You would forgive me if I did, right baby? You wouldn’t hold that against me?

No. No of course you wouldn’t. You’re so perfect, sis. You would take mercy on your little sister.

Oh, I think it’s time!

♫ loving you anywayyyyyyyy ♫

Your breathing changes. I lean forward excitedly in your chair, making sure I can see you clearly in the darkness. My eyes have long since adjusted to the light, but I’m sure you won’t see me for a few moments. What a surprise I’m about to give you!

Finally, your eyelids take a few languid blinks. I cup your cheek in my hand as you wake. You smile and lean into it, filing the space where my heart once was with your affection. You really have no idea how beautiful you can be.

♫ my love is unconditional ♫

Your eyes snap open at the words and, finally, I can stare into those big brown irises once more. I capture them in mind and you stare back, as still as a reflecting pool. I can see my whole future in your eyes.

I giggle with mirth and poke your nose.

She looked so blissful in those moments. Free, if only for a few moments, from the constant crush of being trans. I wish I could see her joy once more. I wish I could thank her for showing me that my impulse to hurt can bring someone closer rather than push them away.

You prepare to verbally skewer me, but the sight of your big sister in nothing but a towel pins your tongue to the bottom of your mouth.

“H-hey, sis. I uh,” you sputter, cheeks red as neon. You look adorable in your baby blue nightgown, a hand-me-down from yours truly after my breasts grew too large to fit. Your little antbites strain to make an impact against the thin fabric, but they will soon. HRT and puberty blockers have already made such a difference for you.

“I uh,” I repeat like a mockingbird, walking towards you with a swing in my hips. My saccharine grin sends your stomach into a tailspin. “What, is the towel too distracting? I could take it off for you if you prefer.”

My goading makes your breath hitch. Your words continue to fail you as close the distance from the door and lean over you. My hands are on my hips and my breasts are in your face and I’m so close and warm and you can smell my shampoo and-

I snap my fingers in your face.

“Uh, hello! Earth to Lizzie! God you’re such a hopeless little pervert, aren’t you?” I laugh and place my knee between your open legs. You want to back away but your bed’s only a twin and all the plushies lining your wall are blocking your escape route.

“I-I’m not a pervert! You’re j-just.”

My eyes narrow. “Just what, Lizzie?”

“U-uh, well. You see. You’re just so…”

Fuck you’re so obviously looking for a way out. I see your hazel eyes darting left and right like a scared rabbit. Looking for any way out. I see your attempt coming seconds before you make it.

You try to evade to your right but I grab your hand and pin it behind your back. Suddenly my face is centimeters from yours. My breath smells like mint. The sensation makes your lips tingle.

“Oh no you don’t,” I exclaim, my breaths hot and wet against your flushed face. “Where are you gonna go sis? Gonna go cry to mommy? Gonna tell her about all the fun things we’ve gotten up to lately?”

My other hand skims up your waist and slides against the side of your breast. I slide my thumb over your nipple. It’s hard, of course. Predictably, you moan.

I bend you over, using your continued weakness to pin both arms above your head with one hand. Your arousal is so obvious. I look down and see a wet spot growing where your dick is struggling against my old nightgown.

“Where. Is. My. Perfume?” I ask, near growling. I brush my lips against your cheek and you gasp out. I feel you struggling not to roll your hips against my warm cunt.

Knowing I’m not going to get anywhere without any pressure, I bring my free hand up and grasp your nipple between my thumb and pointer finger.

I pinch it hard to make a point. You moan as your eyes roll back halfway.

“I’m not going to ask nicely again, Lizzie.”

Finally you break.

“It’s under my pillow!” You gasp out, cheeks blushing furiously as tears peak from your eyes.

“Is it now?” I answer with a cruel smile, sweet but dripping with animosity. “And why, pray tell, is it under your pillow?”

You look away from me, answering in the smallest voice you can summon. “Smelling it helps me fall to sleep….”

I giggle in your face. “Gosh, you’re so hopeless, sis.”

I release your hands and swipe my perfume from under your pillow. My towel falls to the floor as I rise, leaving me fully exposed. It’s too much to take in; you look away in shame of your arousal and desire.

I pay the scrap of fabric no mind as I saunter over to the door.

As I reach for the door handle, I turn to face you, looking divine in the sunlight of your window.