This story feature queer love, domination, (mostly) gentle giantesses, and a whole lot of destruction and explosive orgasms. There is plenty of trans femme, girldick, lesbian romance content.

She’s never been to a sex party before. Allison spent much of the trip monologuing in her head about how it’s going to be a lot of fun and definitely not awkward. I won’t freak out. Quiet, looking out the window of the train at the farmland and trees as they slid closer and closer to Montreal. Tonight, was the night she’d meet some hot queer folks and just casually have sex. Not awkward at all. I mean, it’s hard to force an orgy, Right? She’d been in a few, but they’ve always come on naturally. Once she was at a house party, a DJ set up in the living room with ambient purple lights and a lot of drugs. She was hopped up on MDMA and vodka cocktails, they were dancing. Bodies rubbing, sweat dripping, their bodies off rhythm to the soft percussion of the music and the beating bass notes. She could _feel _the music. And she felt so in sync with those moving bodies. The next thing she could remember, she was taking turns making out with two other women. It was a blur, and she didn’t remember how they got to the guest room. But they all woke up in the morning together, a pile of three sweaty bodies tangled up under the bed sheets in the summer heat. A killer hangover, but cute as fuck cuddling. They went for breakfast together that morning, though nothing else came of it.

It’s going to be okay, probably. She thought, _I’ll just go with the flow, right? _It’s just that the last time things flowed naturally, as if it were meant to happen. A sex party seems artificial, a recipe for awkward posturing, rambling babble, and a big ol’ panic attack.

Allison gazed over to her girlfriend. She had dozed off, one of her headphones fallen from her ear. Music whispering under the sounds of the train. For Elanor, vulnerability came so easy. While cheesy flirting made her giggle at her own mishaps, it made Allison panic and want to run away. She was wearing her favorite clothes, a white floral pattern summer dress with an emphasis around her bust. She kept this dress for sexy occasions, for when she’d be on the prowl at dingy gay bars in the summer heat.

Allison always admired her confidence with her body and how she moved around the world as the center of attention. She was a beautiful gravity vortex, pulling in gazes from everyone around her. She loved the attention, got off on it. It’s not surprising that her kink is exhibitionism. Being seen by the world while her girlfriend fucks her from behind with a strap-on (or in Allison’s case, a girldick). She lived vicariously through Elanor’s confidence, following in her wake as she introduced her to the gay kink subculture in Ottawa.

Allison on the other hand, she didn’t love attention. She mostly did everything she could to avoid it. But she was trying hard to keep up with Elanor. Really, she wanted to impress her. And she wanted to feel like she belonged to the queer poly community. So here I am, on a train to a sex party that I’m tripping out over. 💦

Later that day, Elanor was walking through the crowded streets, her hand gripped Allison’s, pulling her as if on a tight leash. She walked with purpose, her summer dress rippling in the hot breeze of a Montreal summer. Every so often, Elanor would glance back at Allison with a dirty smile. A coded facial expression shared between two queer women, not unlike the sharing of a raunchy inside joke. The sun was setting over the gay village in downtown Montreal, rays of sunshine cut up by the buildings spread into the street as a cascading light show of red sunlight and moving shadows. There was a city smell in the air, mostly comprised of the aroma of sweat, vehicles, and cooking asphalt. And a low hanging haze of car exhaust. The streets seemed narrow and crowded, almost claustrophobic. In fact, it wasn’t just the streets, Allison felt claustrophobic in my body. Like she just wanted to burst out of her shell and take up more space. It was probably anxiety. She had no shortage of that.

“Babe,” she called out, “can we stop for a moment.”

Elanor looked back at her, a quizzical expression, “Of course, are you okay?” There was a park really close, we walked through the crowd and off of the sidewalk. It was a small park, just in front of an old stone church. They found a patch of grass under the shade of a tree and sat together.

“I just need a breather,” she pulled her backpack from her shoulders and began rooting through the absolute mess of phone chargers, makeup, notebooks, and old receipts. She found it, her lorazepam. Allison took one or two when her anxiety became overwhelming. She was prone to regular panic attacks, and if that happened, they would have to say goodbye to a fun vacation weekend. Opening the pill bottle, she realized her hands were drenched in cold sweat and goosebumps. What the fuck is happening? She shook out two little blue pills and held them in her hand.

“Allison,” Elanor put her hand on Allison’s arm, gave her that compassionate look that she’d always been so thankful for. “It’s okay if you’re not feeling well. We can stay in tonight, have a few drinks. Spend time together, just you and me.”

“Of course not,” She knew Elanor was just being kind; she’s always been accommodating of her mental health issues. It kind of comes with the package of dating her. But Elanor had been looking forward to this trip for a long time. Allison wasn’t about to take that from her. “I just need to take it slow tonight; I’ll be fine”.

“Are you sure, love? You know that you’re more important to me than a party like this. I can come back another time on my own if this is something that you’re not into.”

“No, I really want to experience a sex party,” Allison couldn’t even imagine what it’d be like to be in a club full of queer women, scantly dressed, wearing bondage gear and collars. She could feel herself getting hard just thinking about it. Her cock swelled against the tuck. She was wearing a skirt though, no bulge today, baby. “You’ll just have to take the lead; I’ve got no freakin’ idea how to do this”. She was never really a crowd person, in fact, she found crowds disorienting. They made her heart pump blood so fast that she’d get dizzy and have to find a washroom to collect herself and muster up courage and resilience to feign wellness. Elanor knew this, but there was a spark in the air tonight and a gravitational pull that ushered through the outskirts of the gay village.

“We should go back to our room and get ready for tonight, it’s going to be fucking hot and I want to get my makeup right,” Elanor said. She winked at Allison as they both milled through the crowds. They had been looking for shops that catered to queer women but were unable to find any. Most of the attractions in the gay village were made for gay men. It was a bummer, there weren’t many lesbian spaces. It wasn’t surprising, they had known that when they were planning their trip. But when they found Dystopia, they absolutely needed to take vacation time. A friend had shared the URL with them. The website was cryptic, not mentioning but implying that it was a sex club. It was called Dystopia, the font spelled in pink neon lights on the website.

Dystopia was a trans-inclusive queer bathhouse. It had a shadowy notoriety, famous among the alt-queer community, but almost completely invisible to the wider cisgender mainstream. Essentially, rule number one was no cis dudes. It was one of the few venues where trans and enby folks could go and feel safe. Where there were strict trans inclusion policies and a no bullshit attitude towards transphobia. It was a closely guarded secret that needed to be mostly hidden from the police. There’d been a long history of police raids on queer bathhouses. Its secrecy made it a safe space. This place, Allison popped her two pills which dissolved quickly under her tongue, this place is worth it.

Looking up and down the street, Elanor said “Now where does a girl get some dental dams?” 🍆

They were staying at a cute bed and breakfast just outside of the village. It was an old brick house, three stories and vines growing up the sides of its reddish walls. It was dusty inside, but quaint. The vibe was welcoming, safe, and not stiff with the tense conversations Allison typically had with bed and breakfast owners who’ve never met a trans women. The door was thick wood, worn down over the years, framed with rust, and had a bright unwashed stain-glass window. It opened with a creek, the musty smell of an old house greeting them. Allison wicked the sweat from her face and walked up to the front desk. A small and dusty fan with a droning buzz moved back and forth on the desk, blowing around hot air and mostly being useless. It was an older house, no internal air con and not expensive or bourgeois enough to have room units. She rang the little brass bell, and the host came from the kitchen in the back followed by a swirl of steam, obscured by curtains around the doorway. He seemed to be perpetually happy, a smile on his face, and graying stubble. His name was probably Leo. Or Walter, or something. He was wearing a delightfully flamboyant apron, pink and floral. On the apron’s pouch, there was a glittering peach emoji.

“How can I help you ladies?” he said. He had an old dish rag in his hands, which he summarily slung over his shoulder. “We’re having rice, mushroom stroganoff, and fresh baked buns this evening. Will you two be joining us for dinner?” The smell coming from the kitchen was tantalizing, they could hear the sizzle of frying mushrooms.

Elanor loved staying at old school bed and breakfasts, the welcoming home feel was much more inviting than staying at a hotel where all the rooms were the same boring style, and no one spoke to each other. She liked conversations with strangers. Allison on the other hand was timid about staying with strangers. She could mostly blend in with a crowd, but she’d never really had the energy for voice feminization. As soon as she’d speak, she was clocked. Allison’s voice was a baritone. It’s never bothered her; she liked her voice. But it meant she needed to be conscious of where she’d go to feel safe. It wasn’t people knowing she was trans that made her anxious, that was her everyday life, and she was fine with it. It was the anticipation of a negative reaction, an uneasy suspense of whether or not they would react with violence. This place was pretty rad though.

As she was thinking about this, she began to feel claustrophobic again. Fuck, is my skin stretching? It was a strange sensation, overwhelming but strangely pleasant. Elanor’s conversation with their host receded into the background. Ugh, not again, not here. These days it didn’t take long for gender dysphoria to flood into the surface of her thinking mind. She could feel the sweat bead on her forehead and drip down her brow. But this felt different, it wasn’t exactly a feeling of panic.

A hand touched her shoulder, she flinched. “Babe, let’s head upstairs and get ready.” She caught my eyes and shook her purse; the beer cans rattled a little. Her warm knowing smile. She always had a way of grounding me from my panic attacks. As they walked up the stairs, Elanor moved closer to her ears, “Are you okay?”

But before she could answer, there was a ripping sound. Allison’s leggings tore on the thighs of both legs. What the fuck, those were brand new. I could have sworn they were the right size. She slipped passed Elanor and ran up the two flights of stairs into their room. 💦

It was a no bra night for Elanor, her breasts were perky, big, and her nipples made a tent in her shirt. She had just finished touching up her make-up. Trying to keep up with the way summer sweat wreaked havoc on foundation and eyeliner was a bitch. But she killed it. She put down her beer and glided over to Allison from the washroom and slowly gathered her up in a hug. She was taller than Allison by half a foot, though strangely Allison was just about looking her in the eyes. “Don’t worry my love,” she said, “I’ll be right there with you the entire time”.

“I’m really okay, I just feel weird in my body tonight”.

“Oh no, dysphoria? Are you up for tonight? It’s really okay if you’re not”.

“Yeah, I want to go, I’m sure I’ll be fine once we’re there and wading through a sea of sexy queer babes. It’s literally a space for people like me, I’m not missing this”.

“As long as you’re okay with going,” Elanor said, her hand wandering over Allison’s dick. She could feel it engorging. Getting harder in her underwear. Allison moved her hands up the sides of her torso, looking into her eyes.

Allison pushed her against the wall at the end of the bed, as her fingers found their way up her under her skirt. She was wet, no underwear. But Elanor giggled and pushed her back onto the bed. Pinning down her arms and moving in close, her fingers entwined with Allison’s. She smiled, “Not yet you naughty, filthy girl. You have to wait for tonight like everyone else”. She loved to tease, loved to be in control. She was a top, and she liked pushing me around. Sometimes they played with ropes and blindfolds. Allison loved it, she loved being pushed, punished, and bound. Along with being an anxious ball of stress, she was also a submissive bottom. Though, sometimes she wished she could top. The thought of that was exhilarating.

Tipsy and giggling, they got back to getting dressed. “That’s really weird,” Elanor said, “Did you put my webbed leggings in the dryer sweetie? They don’t fit well anymore”. They didn’t notice through their anticipation for the night to come, but the room was getting smaller. Their clothing was getting tight. Ever so slightly, as they gathered their purses and filed out of their room. Allison said, “The hallways are so tight in this house. It must be an old Montreal house thing.” 🍆

When they got to Dystopia, they had to walk into an alleyway and down a pair of steps to an old rusty door covered in graffiti. It was eerie but did the job of not drawing much attention. A taller butch woman stood at the door with smirk across her face. She was large and beautiful with short blue hair and a denim vest full of buttons. Many of them were patterns of flowers. One of them had a skull and another was a sparkling cat unicorn. The general tone of her aesthetic was fuck the patriarchy with lots of glitterbombs. Allison knew this was her kind of place. The poly scene back home was scant. Nothing like this. Mostly middle-class monogamous couples working boring jobs at the government and wanting to bring in a unicorn or dabble in some kind of chaser-type trans woman fetish to spice up their lives. It wasn’t fun and it wasn’t compassionate. It was just about as heteronormative as it could be. But here, there was a spark of queer and fabulous electricity in the air.

As the bouncer opened the door, Allison and Elanor were met with the smell of lavender and the sexy sound of triphop and bass droning through the walls. As they climbed the stair, Allison felt that strange sensation again. She felt like her body was claustrophobic, like she was too big to be in it and that feeling made her embarrassed. It made her feel like she stood out even though there was clearly nothing wrong. It’s anxiety, Allison. She told herself, chill the hell out. She was here to have fun and she was determined to not run back towards the door.

“My love,” Elanor moved her hands to cup Allison’s face, “I know you’re anxious about this, but we will do this together.” She came closer to gently kiss her neck. “If you get uncomfortable, just tell me and we will go”. She playfully bit down on Allison’s neck, “There’s a room full of cuties up there waiting for us”. Before Elanor turned to finish her climb up the stairs, Allison noticed that her bust looked a lot bigger than when they left. _Did she put on a small bra? _Allison thought as she realized her bra was also digging into her back and her cleavage looked bigger.

At the top of the staircase, there was a burgundy curtain and as they pushed it aside and walked into the room, they were faced with a room that definitely cranked up those alluring vibes. The walls were made of red bricks, a tall ceiling with rows of purple, blue, and pink lights. Faerie lights were streamed across the walls. It gave the room an enchanted feeling. The room was full of dykes, many dressed in their best and brightest slutty clothes. A slow electronic melody with a droning bass filled the room. Some folks were dancing, and others were lounging at the booths along the walls. Some were sitting alone at the bar, probably just as shy as Allison was. This place was rad as heck. As they walked towards the tables, Elanor almost dragging Allison through the dance floor, she saw two long hallways on either side of the large room. The signage beside the hallway read: Private rooms, ask bar staff to rent. On a small table by the entrance of the hallways were a small table with a bowl of dental dams and condoms. Elanor reached in and scooped up some, slipping them into her purse.

Elanor caught the smile of a gorgeous babe sitting alone at a booth in the corner of the room and she pivoted towards them. They had short black hair with the sides buzz cut, a denim vest, and an assortment of tattoos across their brown arms. They had a soft smile and a hungry gaze. Approaching the booth, Elanor asked, “Do you mind if we sit with you? Are you looking for company?” Allison followed from behind and with a slow hesitation she waved.

“Of course,” they smiled, “what gave you that idea?”

“Girl, it’s written all over your face,” Elanor laughs, hanging her purse on the back of a chair and sat down. The chairs and the booths were cushioned with rugged red leather but it was super cozy when she sat down.

“It’s they actually,” they glance over at Allison who timidly is sliding into the booth side of the table. The chairs and the booths were cushioned with rugged burgundy leather, but it was super cozy when she sat down. “My name’s Farren. I’ve never seen you two before, you’re new to town?” They went through the motions of small talk as the server brought around drinks. The table looked to be hard oak, it tipped and danced slightly when they put their drinks down. Farren was incredible, they were a Montreal local working at a glass blowing collective. For a while, they recounted their experiences about working and living in an art collective. They mostly made bongs that were sold in shops downtown. Allison didn’t say much, but she was growing more and more comfortable, her muscles relaxing as the tenseness from social anxiety eased.

“Excuse me hun,” Elanor said, pushing back her chair and standing up, “I’ve got business to attend to in the washroom”. She took up her purse, winked, and walked off in the direction of the gender-neutral washroom sign.

Farren shifted their weight and moved closer to Allison, they whispered in her ear, “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Blushing a bit at the unexpected forwardness, Allison nodded, and Farren cupped their hand against Allison’s cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. It was a hesitant kiss at first, Farren pulled back for a moment to gaze into Allison’s eyes. They held the gaze for a moment before Allison pulled her closer, biting her lip. They kissed slowly at first, tasting each other’s desires and exploring each other’s lips with their tongues. Then they released all hesitation and full on made out.

A few moments passed before they heard a giggle. “You two are fucking adorable,” Elanor said, standing over the table. She seemed taller than before; her dress seemed to be barely holding on. If Elanor noticed, she didn’t seem to care. “I think we should take this to a bedroom.” 💦

Farren insisted that they would pay for the room. They disappeared around the corner and came back with a ticket and an excited grin. “Good to go,” they slipped between Elanor and Allison and took both of their hands. The trio walked through the hallway and found the room number printed on the ticket. There was a sign on the door to indicate that the room was occupied. Elanor flipped it around, it read, “You’re welcome to join or watch ❤”. Elanor looked down at Allison and Farren, “Is this okay”. Farren smiled and nodded. Allison was silent as Farren led her into the room, softly squeezing her fingers. Her thoughts were racing: Holy shit, this is happening, and it feels so natural.

The room was sectioned off from the hallway with a heavy burgundy curtain that opened to a small room with a large bed done up with soft red sheets and a ton of pillows lining the back of the bed. Elanor put her open hand on Allison’s chest and pushed her onto the bed. She felt so strong, like, stronger than usual. She immediately got hard, her dick slipping out of her underwear. Elanor took up Farren in her arms and kissed them with a voracious hunger. As Farren reached behind her to unbutton her dress, before they could find them, there was a sharp sound of tearing as the seams of her dress ripped apart and the buttons on her back popped off one at a time. The dress fell to the floor in tatters. She moaned deeply from her chest, Farren could feel the vibrations and the slow stretching of her skin as they slipped out of her arms and fell backwards onto the bed. Elanor stood above them, she must have been 8 or 9 feet tall. Both Farren and Allison gazed up in wonderous tantalizing awe. Elanor’s bra popped, and her breasts fell out, jiggling as they fell, bounced, and settled. “You’re both mine,” Elanor purred as she took a step towards them, the floorboards groaned, “you will pleasure me.”

Elanor crawled onto the bed with commanding amusement, pushing herself between Allison and Farren, the bed frame creaking loudly as she rolled over and opened her legs. She beckoned at them to come forward, and as if enchanted by a spell, they both crawled between her legs. Elanor’s sudden growth spurt made no sense; but any fear or confusion was washed away in the gravity of her presence. With one hand that now seemed to be the size of Farren’s head, she guided them towards Elanor’s engorged clit. And with her other hand, she pulled Allison into a wet kiss. Elanor’s tongue was now bigger than Allison’s mouth. With a hunger that Allison had never witnessed before, Elanor’s tongue glided up her cheeks and around her face. She whispered into her ears, “I know you desire this love,” she pulled her closer, the bed’s groaning was almost drowned out by the sound of her breath, “I’ve seen your hidden incognito tabs. I know you’re into it. Growing, feeling powerful. You’re my goddess, I want to worship you. And so will everyone else”. She moaned, her legs clenching and sweat beading on her forehead. Farren was deep throating Elanor’s clit, now the size of a thick penis. It quivered and clenched in their mouth, and at every clench, it seemed to grow bigger, filling their mouth.

Allison was consumed with that feeling of claustrophobia, she could feel her body quivering as she resisted its need to grow. No, everyone will look at me. I don’t want to be the center of attention! Elanor pulled her closer, her skin was slippery with sweat. Her smell an alluring musk. “Fucking choke me Allison,” she cried, her voice seemed to vibrate the room itself, “fucking do it”. She could feel a nipple slip from her bra, which could barely contain her breasts. She put her hand against Elanor’s throat, wondering if it was even possible to choke her mammoth girlfriend anymore. Her hands pushed into Elanor’s neck, and she could see her hand expanding slowly, her fingers gliding around her throat. Holy shit, I’m growing! Her bra strap snapped, her tits ripping her dress open. She could feel her dick growing, rubbing up against Farren’s body. A droplet of pre-cum dripping onto Farren’s shoulder, they moaned as they could feel the fragrant cum soaking their shirt. The bed frame snapped, and the mattress hit the floor with a loud thump, this time the entire bathhouse shook.

Two women from the room across the hallway, mostly naked pulled the curtains open and Elanor beckoned them in. They giggled, and slipped into the tangle of bodies, heat, and slick, stretching skin. Allison gave into the hunger, her underwear snapping off and the two women both working her girldick with their tongues. She cried out, a slow guttural moan building into a quivering cry as her dick clenched against the bodies of the two women playing with her. As Allison grew, the room shrank smaller until her back was pushing up against the ceiling and right foot pushed out of the room, through the hallway and into the adjacent room. The floorboards creaked and a few began to crack and push down under the weight of their bulldozer of an orgy. Allison felt a relief she hadn’t felt in years, she was free of her anxious worries. She was growing into a fucking goddess. Nothing else mattered to her.

Beneath her, Elanor slipped her hand over Farren’s body and pull their shirt off. She dropped the shirt beside Farren and pulled them closer. Farren moaned as they embraced Elanor’s vulva’s wet hug. They fingered themselves, while burying their head under Elanor’s growing clit. The fire alarm began to ring but was flooded out with the moaning and growing of two budding giantesses. Elanor could feel herself pushed against the floor as Allison’s body filled the room, she quickly scooped up their smaller partners as the floor collapsed and they all plunged into the sex shop beneath Dystopia. It was late, and the shop was closed. But dildos and other sexy merchandise scattered across the floor in an absolute hot mess. Elanor held the three tinies in her hand to protect them from debris.

But Allison was lost in ecstasy, she quickly filled the room with her body and filled both stories. Farren and the other two tinies were in a combination of astonishment, fear, and wonder. Allison’s dick was growing bigger than any of their bodies. She pushed up against the ceiling, more debris falling around them. Her back hitting the ceiling once, twice, and three times as the roof of the building cracked open. Tables, spilt drinks, and beds falling into the sex shop. Everything slicks with the sweat dripping off Allison’s body. Dystopia must have evacuated when the fire alarm was pulled. Between the sparks of pulled wires, the pouring of water from fractured pipes and the shifting debris, the bathhouse was empty. With a guttural roar of pleasure, Allison pushed her way through the roof of the building, her body ploughing through the walls of what had once been Dystopia and poured into the streets of Montreal. Her expanding body pushed against traffic lights and recently abandoned cars. 🍆

Elanor pulled herself up from under Allison’s quivering body further destabilizing the building and pushing through the building beside her. She put the trio in her hand on a roof just out of the way. “Stay here and watch,” she whispered. With a final wink to her three partners, Elanor crawled out of the rubble, “you all have one chance to get the fuck off this block and to safety,” she commanded with a voice that rippled through the night. People quickly scrambled out of the way Elanor pushed Allison into the street. Her ass fell onto St. Catherine street with a bang, crushing cars and kicking up a cloud of dust. Elanor was smaller than her partner now, she reached up and kissed Allison who was still moaning with her eyes squeezed closed. She slowly began kissing down her neck, stopping for a nibble. Elanor pushed Allison’s body into the building behind her. More dust and debris spilled into the street; the building barely able to hold Allison’s humungous body.

Elanor continued kissing down her body, ponderously gliding her tongue across her skin before continuing downwards. She cupped the head of Allison’s dick with her hands and began jerking her off. Slow at first, but faster as she began kissing down her belly. Allison’s body was rhythmically gyrating against Elanor, each time her ass came down, it would sound off a boom heard across the city. Cracks trickled out from under her shattering the asphalt like a concrete spiderweb. Elanor scooted backwards, her ass crashing into the building behind her. She giggled, feeling what remained of the building push against her outer labia.

She glided her tongue up and down Allison’s cock, it throbbed in sync with her moans. She pushed her foot through a store front on the other side of the street. Elanor began to alternate between deep throating her lover and jacking her off, large droplets of her saliva dripping onto the broken streets. Allison began to scream, her ass twitched upward, her feet pushing through buildings. She was growing again as she reached climax. Her girth filling the block, her body pushing against buildings. The city itself trembling.

Elanor could no longer suck on her girlfriend’s cock, it was too big, and it was throbbing. She pointed it towards St. Catherine street as Allison came, shooting cum down the street with such force that cars were pushed by the enormous globules of creamy juices. The street was flooded, her fragrance everywhere. They both relaxed, laying in the rubble of the streets. Allison sighed, she pulled her much smaller lover into a snuggle. The sound of sirens and dazzling red and blue lights spilling through the collapsed buildings and the desecrated remains of the block like macabre disco. Elanor caressed Allison’s inner thighs, her hands sliding around her cock. She purred, “Girl, never let anyone make you be smaller than you deserve to be” 😘

This story is set to be published in the forthcoming and wicked cool Trans Kink Zine. I’ll link it once the zine is published.

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