OFM Lust: After Hours

Natalie is an acupuncturist who’s been treating Jaime at her clinic for the past three months. Jaime—a nonbinary, trans-masculine 30-something—is in the midst of their hormone replacement therapy and sees Natalie every two weeks to help treat hormone regulation and muscle tension caused by this significant life change.

As a pansexual woman, Natalie runs a, LGBTQ-affirming practice and sees several clients who are otherwise dismissed by the traditional medical professions. She takes her work seriously and treats her patients with equal respect and care; however, something about Jaime draws Natalie’s attention more than any of her other clients. 

Jaime is self-aware and playfully confident in an endearingly childlike way that brings out a sort of parental affection in Natalie and makes her want to take special interest in Jaime’s wellness. And yet, because of professional boundaries, Natalie isn’t sure how to bring this side of herself to Jaime’s treatment sessions.

With their ever-changing hair color, cosplay-influenced style, and passion for normalizing gender fluidity through the medium of online sex work, Jaime is one of the most creative and inspiring individuals Natalie has ever met. After each session with Jaime, she takes a moment to herself before her next client to scroll through Jaime’s Instagram, or watch one of her favorite porn videos, and cum once or twice while the sensation of Jaime’s skin is still present on her fingertips.

Today, Jaime’s hair is bubblegum pink and they’re lying on the acupuncture table dressed like a Japanese manga character. During a typical session, Jaime is expressive, detailing one of their latest characters they’ve incorporated into their sex work. But today, Natalie senses a shift in their energy—a passive quietness that seems to be masking some emotional, or possibly physical discomfort.

Natalie wants to respect Jaime’s silence, but she also wants to get to the heart of the matter in order to provide the most effective care. She sits close to Jaime’s prostrate body with her tray of acupuncture needles, tracing her hands along Jaime’s arms and legs, pausing at various pressure points to check their sensitivity.

Jaime gasps when Natalie presses into their left shin.

“Is that too hard?” asks Natalie.

“No, not too hard,” says Jaime. “It was more … surprising.”

“Surprising?”

Jaime’s cheeks flush a soft pink. “I mean, I felt a sharp pain … but it also felt good.”

Natalie raises her eyebrows, her womb churning at the suggestion of pleasurable pain. “If it’s not too uncomfortable,” she says, “there’s a lot of relief you can get from embodying your pain.” 

“What do you mean, exactly?”

Natalie starts slow in her response, not wanting to cross any boundaries at her place of business. “I hope I’m not being too direct,” she says, “but you seem to have something on your mind today. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I’ve noticed with other clients that when there’s something they’re struggling to process internally, a certain level of safe physical pain helps them release any stuck emotions they might be dealing with.”

Jaime wrinkles their eyebrows, considering this. “Can I be honest with you?”

Natalie nods and expertly inserts a series of needles into Jaime’s legs as they talk.

“The more I embrace my masculine self, the more desire I have for risky physical activity. Nothing exactly dangerous, but sometimes I crave the visual markers of risk—like bruises from an extreme sport, or a fist fight. I don’t consider myself a weak person, but lately, I’ve been fantasizing about giving up control of my body to something transformative.”

“That sounds like a metaphor for HRT.”

“Maybe. Or maybe that’s just the inspiration for a more visceral desire. It’s strange—I used to think that leaning more into my masculine expression would make me feel stronger. And in many ways, it has. But it’s also allowed me to accept and embrace my feminine side in a way I never felt capable of when I had a more female-presenting body.”

Natalie pauses before inserting a set of needles along Jaime’s forehead, her hand resting at Jaime’s throat as she processes what they just said. She gets so lost in thought that she doesn’t realize she’s caressing Jaime’s neckline in a motherly way with her thumb until Jaime clears their throat. Natalie quickly pulls her hand away and apologizes. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about what you said,” she says, shaking off her embarrassment. “Most clients don’t open up to me like that.”

“It’s OK,” says Jaime, looking up into Natalie’s eyes. “Your touch is always welcome. Especially in this stage of my life when most people view my body like some sort of alien. I’m still human. I still bleed the same as anyone.”

When Jaime says this, Natalie is filled with immense compassion and immense desire. She battles for a moment about whether to voice a certain erotic suggestion, then decides to go for it. 

“It means a lot that you feel comfortable sharing that with me,” says Natalie, adjusting the pillow under Jaime’s head. “If you’d be interested, there’s another modality I’d like to try with you that I think you’d enjoy. There’s some pain involved, and it will leave marks on you—for a few hours, at least. We’re out of time for me to do it here, but if you’re free tonight, I’d love to have you over to my house for a cupping session. No charge, of course, since it’ll be after my regular business hours.”

***

Jaime had had a crush on Natalie since their first acupuncture session but never brought it up for risk of losing a sympathetic caregiver. Not only was Natalie a driven, intelligent, and kind person, but she also exhibited a profound-yet-understated sexiness—the kind of sexy not immediately obvious in passing. The kind of sexy that makes you feel special for noticing it.

Until their private, after-hours session, Jaime had assumed, but hadn’t been sure, that Natalie was into them. Jaime had seen two different acupuncturists for treatment before finding Natalie, and there was a marked difference in how much longer, and with more intention, Natalie lingered over Jaime’s pressure points as she talked about the benefits of body awareness.

Natalie had small, delicate hands, firm and direct. In the half-dark of her private home studio, by the glow of candlelight and the musk of incense, Natalie had lifted Jaime’s pleated skirt and slid their snug black briefs part-way down their hips—not all the way—and then suckled their flesh with small glass fish bowls, cupping their hips, thighs, and ass with a nurturing, calculated dominance. Filling each bowl with smoke from a skillfully wielded flame to create a vacuum seal that leached onto Jaime’s skin with a swift sting, followed instantly by a satisfying release—Natalie’s hands pinning Jaime down onto the table by their neck, shoulders, chest, knees.

Jaime wished to lie like that for the rest of their life. The heat of flame and pinch of skin left large red welts across their body like some anthropomorphic soundboard, which Jaime now lay savoring, naked in their bed at home. Jaime touched each welt, one by one, heating up without aid of flame at the memory of Natalie’s topless breasts hanging above them, brushing Jaime’s body with each corresponding hand placement. 

The two of them never touched explicitly, but afterward, they both expressed that it was the most erotic experience they’d ever shared. Natalie’s pleasure had been in the power she had over Jaime—the secure, focused power of an openly seductive healer—leaving Jaime to safely relinquish all control, all anxiety and fear, and revel in the release of so much more than could ever be expressed in words. 

Still hot and bothered? Read another steamy story here.