A Change of Plans is a kinky, t4t, sapphic fiction book(‽‽) that I’m writing. I post new chapters every Thursday.
Valerie is a trans woman in her late twenties; her family is unaccepting of her transition, her abusive partner left her suddenly a few months ago, and her job is about to fire her. Dana, also trans, is older (if not necessarily wiser), but managed to turn a lucky career in tech into independent wealth. She’s had her eye on Valerie for a while now, and can’t escape her fantasies of acquiring the girl as her pet.
Ready to read? Start at the prologue , or jump to the latest chapter.
These are the “good” things the story contains, though of course if you find these to be problematic, you might want to find something else to read.
(As of right now, October 9th, most of these are mere promises of what’s to come.)
These are elements that are explicitly present as part of the characters' background and/or the context of the story. I try to approach these topics seriously, and they aren’t played for laughs or for sexual prurience. I absolutely welcome feedback about how sensitively I’m approaching them, either positive or negative.
I love feedback. Tell me what you like, or what you didn’t like; what you found moving, or what you found boring and hacky. Or tell me if you find typos. There are a lot of ways to contact me:
@ me on blue sky @quiet.inkValerie stood naked in front of the full length mirror in Dana’s bathroom, staring at herself. Her eyes were fixed on the metal that Lucca had put through her body. She had been staring for several minutes, lost in thought; occasionally she turned, just to watch the light glint off of the new piercings.
Valerie moaned as the plug inside her cycled on. Her eyes widened — pointlessly, behind both blindfold and hood. The intense pulsing lasted only a few seconds before cutting off again.
Isolation, and Valerie’s own fearful imagination, broke her before any action of Lucca’s.
Without instructions to the contrary, Valerie slept in the cell that night. Unbound, still wearing the flannel pajamas, with a blanket, and no cold shower— she found it practically luxurious. She slept well, and, blessedly, dreamed only strange dreams, whose memory dissipated when she awoke.
“Yellow,” Valerie answered, shifting her eyes away from Lucca. She felt suddenly shy, and was unwilling to see the expression they would give her in reply. She suppressed a shudder as she imagined the scenario Lucca had asked about, but she also imagined herself enduring it. Surviving it.
Valerie had finished nearly all of her oatmeal, and a second cup of black diner coffee, but she couldn’t handle another bite of the now-cold porridge. Lucca flagged down their server, and a few minutes later she dropped off the check.
Valerie did not, in general, enter Dana’s closets. The woman selected for her what she would wear each morning, and it was not a subject that was up for debate. She wasn’t forbidden from the closets, but she never had any reason to enter. The one time she had wandered in, bored from being left to her own devices during one of Dana’s trips, she had felt guilty, as though she was invading Dana’s privacy. She had not lingered.
Lucca brought Valerie a glass of water, and helped her move to a sitting position. The reversal— the sudden care, the tenderness— felt confusing and unsafe to Valerie; but she drank the water all the same, and the act of doing so helped her tamp down the sobbing, and gain some measure of control over her emotions. It wasn’t much.
Lucca led — practically dragged — Valerie up to Dana’s bedroom. One of the room’s walls was decorated with a sculptural panel about eight feet long, of dark walnut slats. The slats ran floor to ceiling, and were mounted to the wall on their narrow edge and spaced evenly apart. Each slat was carved into an organic series of curves and arches, reinforced with black steel edge-work. Each arch was a potential attachment point, and a hidden panel opened to a neatly organized set of locks and other hardware. Restraints, rope, or chain could be attached almost anywhere across the surface, and Dana regularly bound Valerie against the wall for whatever teasing or torture she had in mind; or merely as an objet d’art to admire. Valerie was very familiar with this section of wall.
Dana answered the door, and Lucca was there. They were a silhouette in the doorway, resplendent in the afternoon light. Even from that first moment, something felt off. Dana expected a Lucca that was relaxed, maybe even eager to have Valerie to themself for a few days; but instead, they seemed dour, and tense. They seemed unhappy.