Shore Leave: Part 6 (Patreon)

Rocket watched the light of the evening sun change from yellow to orange as she stretched, holding a downward dog position before swooping fluidly into snake pose and feeling the tension leave her calves. The cool maritime air washed over her as the waves crashed in the background. It was freeing to be so at peace with the world for once. Her life had been a series of abnormalities and pressures, all trying to force her into a role that she herself didn’t choose. Even as a kid she knew that she was meant to be a girl instead of a boy; a sentiment that wasn’t shared by her parents in the slightest. Despite being rich, Rocket’s parents simply couldn’t throw enough money at her to make her see herself as a boy. No matter how many dirtbikes or hockey sticks they bought her, she wasn’t interested in them nearly as much as she was makeup and clothes. All the summer camps and bible schools in the world couldn’t sway her from wanting to be beautiful and feminine instead of tough and manly.

But even Rocket wasn’t invincible.

Years of torment at the hands of her parents and society in general had forced her to distance herself from the toxicity of American culture and move away to Spain where she believed she could finally be herself. Granted, it was still early in that stage of her life and her current situation was more of a trial run than an actual permanent nesting operation, but it was turning out better even than she’d hoped before leaving her tiny apartment on the mainland. She’d found the locals to be exceedingly pleasant to here, especially after realizing that she could speak the language fairly well without an interpreter like most of the visitors to Ibiza Town. Several women had expressed interest in having her act as their yoga instructor while several men had expressed interest in her as their new girlfriend. She didn’t have the heart to tell any of them that she was born a man and that her current appearance was just the result of continuing hormones and plastic surgery.

Flirting and conversing was a fun pastime and she greatly looked forward to the day when she would be able to finish what she started in terms of near-nightly almost-romantic encounters, but for now that had to remain a dream. It wouldn’t matter if she had a slim body with fat padded thighs once she took her panties off and revealed the tiny, but fully functional penis attached to her groin. It was Rocket’s secret shame that she hoped to one day simply omit when talking to boys at the bars or even better, when she would lead them excitedly back to her home. She’d always been more feminine in appearance than she wasn’t, but her parents made sure to keep her hair short and clothes masculine as a means of trying to assert her maleness over anything else, but that only lasted as long as her relationship with them did. At 18, she’d immediately used their fortune to start up hormone treatment and a pair of small, but undeniably womanly C cup implants that she eventually wanted to size up.

Moving into a sitting position, she began her meditative breathing exercises before heading back to her hotel room and getting dressed for another night of bar hopping and going-nowhere flirtations. The air grew cooler around her as the sunlight dimmed even more. Deep breaths of salt-stung air and fragrant brine caressed her senses as the woes and worries brought on by a lifetime of fighting to be herself simply melted away into the receding tide.

(1)

When she opened her eyes again, she saw a blonde woman in a pair of denim shorts and a flirtatiously low cut yellow top strutting down the street past her. Rocket had seen her around the hotel a few times but they’d only ever said one or two words to each other in passing. She couldn’t help but wonder where the curly haired blonde was headed in such a daring outfit, but decided instead to hurry up and focus on getting back to her hotel room before it got too chilly.

Eve threw her hips from side to side as much as she could as she walked down the paved stone road in an attempt to attract any man who might have been interested in spending some time with her for the night. The move was a work in progress and she often worried about overselling the act, especially since many guys could already tell she was trans by looking at her. In most situations, the tanned blonde could pass at a glance, but discerning eyes would often become suspicious if they looked at her for more than a few seconds. Her bold tops and tantalizing cleavage were just the results of padded push up bras that hung off of her abnormally broad shoulders. Short shorts drew attention to her butt so long as it remained in motion, but if she were to stop walking, the muscular thickness of her thighs and narrowness of her hips would become suddenly apparent. Her face too was pretty and feminine enough to convince a drunk or careless man that she was effeminate and cute for a while…but it usually only took an hour or so at most before her strong jawline began to make her dates begin to suspect that she wasn’t entirely what or who they thought she was.

As she stepped into her favorite bar, Eve scanned the room for familiar faces and finding none, proceeded to make her way to the bar to order herself some tequila and tapas while she waited for someone to approach her. There was a moment of hesitation as she remembered her earlier decision to start watching her figure after a particularly rude hookup she’d been talking with online informed her that she “looked about 15 pounds lighter in her pictures.” It was however only a moment and nothing more, as the second the food arrived, she instantly decided that she’d already spent the money and it’d be a waste not to eat it.

(2)

Eve was no stranger to bar and party culture be it there on vacation or back home in England. As an American who’d been in London for long enough to pick up an accent, she was exotic sounding enough to pick up the odd unsuspecting guy and take him back to her place for sex. It was rare that she ever got past foreplay or providing an enthusiastic blowjob before the man in question learned one way or another that what she kept referring to as her “clit” was actually a limp, shriveled dicklet that she enthusiastically shook back and forth as if it were the most obviously sexy thing in the world. Most men would get upset and leave shortly after, but there was always the anomalous experimenter or closeted bisexual who either didn’t mind or was even excited at the development. Like a bird that shouldn’t have been fed in the wild, Eve continued the same ritual every night in hopes of running into such a person while trying to avoid anyone who already rejected her after discovering her secret. She’d dress in some revealing, often times blatantly slutty outfit and head to a bar or dance club, order a drink, and hunt for someone who looked like they would be willing to fuck her in the ass before the night was through.

Not every night was a winner though, and sometimes no one would approach her let alone try to take her back to their place. She’d stood there by the bar, snacking away for nearly half an hour before here feet hurt enough to make her grab a bar stool and sit down. After another twenty minutes or so, she grew restless and decided to try and take measures into her own hands. Eve wandered over to a darkly tanned man and attempted to make small talk in her practiced English accent.

“Hello, love. I haven’t seen you around here before. You a local?” She asked flirtatiously, now beginning to feel the buzz from her drink.

The man looked at her with an almost surprised expression. “Oh, I ahh….I..no have..ah….Monay? No monay, lo siento. Sorry.”

Eve glanced around the room awkwardly before moving onto the next guy dancing by himself alone in a corner of the floor.

“You look lonely. Care to dance?” She asked, holding out her arm.

The man looked her in the eye and in perfect English said “I’m not interested, sorry. Besides, I left my wallet back at my hotel. Thank you though.”

Eve’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head.

“If you lost your wallet, then how’d you get past the bouncer, dumbass?” She responded before walking away with a scowl on her face and her middle finger in the air.

As far as Eve was concerned, the night was a bust. She headed for the door, brushing past a dark eyed brunette in a shiny pink top. The two made eye contact briefly and something in Eve made her realize that the familiar-feeling woman was trans just like her.

“Good luck in there, love,” she said snarkily. “This place is totally fucking dead. You’d have better chances of catching a date at a bloody morgue.”

Farsi had no idea what the other girl had been talking about, but she felt like she knew her from somewhere. Something about her face made her wonder if they’d met up and become friends when she was drunk one night or something, but she hadn’t enough to time to ask her before she’d stormed down the street with a pair of gold heels in her hand.

“…Okay…” She said awkwardly before stepping past the doorman and into the club.

In truth, the club scene wasn’t normally her thing, but Farsi had decided to give it a shot out of a lack of other options for fun outside of hotel room tv. She’d been somewhat surprised at how little there was to do in Ibiza outside of drink on the beach, drink on boats, drink in clubs, or go shopping. There was always hiking, she reasoned, but being that she wasn’t exactly the most fit person in the world and a bit of a girly girl to boot, the idea of wandering out into the jungle to be eaten alive by mosquitos while walking up a mountain just to look at the places she could just go visit didn’t appeal to her.

The bar was, despite what the other girl had said, fairly packed with lots of people dancing to some melodic techno featuring a language that she couldn’t understand but knew wasn’t Spanish. It was a bit crude to see complete strangers just grinding on anyone who was willing to let them, but it did provide an opportunity for what she was craving most: Social Interaction. Her parents had won a couple tickets to the island as part of some work bonus event like a raffle or some such crap, but were cool enough to buy her a ticket to make sure she could go to and experience the world a bit more.

Unlike most trans girls, Farsi had had an easier time with her parents accepting that their son was actually their daughter at 15 years of age. They never asked too many questions or pushed her to be someone she wasn’t, but that also may have been because they were fairly distant as it was. Being high level managers for the company they both worked at made attaining what they simply referred to as “means” fairly easy. They would then use these means to just sort of float through most of their off time like a couple of horny newlyweds on an eternal honeymoon. It would have been sweet if their romantic and financial freedom hadn’t meant that Farsi rarely spent time with them as opposed to hanging out and playing video games or watching youtube growing up. Still, they were cordial and supportive enough to help her transition along.

Farsi ordered a drink and wandered around the establishment for a short period of time before an intensely stunning woman caught her eye. Something about her blonde hair and soft, slender, Spanish features seemed eerily familiar and irresistibly alluring, but the mixed Persian girl was of the mind that simply walking up to someone in a club first thing was sort of tacky. Instead, she pounded her drink and took to the floor. The music was a sort of pretty, ethereal trance with enough bass and a fast enough tempo to keep her dancing effortlessly while still keeping a subtle eye on her person of interest. It didn’t hurt either that she believed her outfit to be absolutely slaying that night with her sparkly pink top showing off her slender waist while her tight PVC shorts and pantyhose giving the room an enticing view of her small, but smooth, curvy butt.

(3)

“Well look who it is.” Said a voice from behind her. “Hello Lieutenant.”

Farsi spun around quickly, surprises and taken aback that the object of her fascination had somehow given her the slip and managed, let alone decided to walk up and greet her.

“Uhm…Hi.” Farsi said, intimidated by the blonde woman’s intense beauty.

She wore a royal blue skirt with a matching crop top that contrasted her short, luminous hair and smile that seemed to shine gently in the light.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself. I hope you haven’t had too much trouble adjusting to your new settings.” The woman said, smiling.

Something about the woman had an unnatural, out of place quality, Farsi thought, then struggled to escape the feeling as soon as she’d had it.

“Oh, I’m…fine. Say…..Do I…know you?” She asked cautiously. “I’m so sorry if we have and I don’t remember. I just feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

The woman smiled. “We’ve met, but I don’t blame you for not remembering. They were abnormal circumstances. But your friends aside, I thought you were quite charming.”

“Damn. I feel like if it was a weird circumstance, then I’d probably have remembered you better. No offense.” Farsi replied, smiling in spite of herself.

“None taken.” The blonde laughed. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

(4)

It was the smile that had done it. A sort of mental click in Farsi’s mind that loosened a mental tumbler or two and allowed her to recall a tiny fragment of information about the mysterious beauty.

“Your name is…Luna? But I don’t know your last name. Oh! Because you said you’d tell me if you liked me! Yes! I remember this! We met in a bar my first day here!” Farsi declared with rapidly growing confidence that appeared to please the other woman.

“That’s correct.” Luna said, her smile growing wider. “I’m surprised you’re even able to remember that.”

Farsi smiled from ear to ear. “Ahh, well. Maybe you’re just harder to forget than you think.”

Luna grinned and rolled her eyes. “Oh trust me, this isn’t a confidence issue, but I enjoy it all the same.”

“Either way,” Farsi continued. “What matters to me is that we had a good time.”

“Well, it could have gone better…” Luna began. “But you seem just as sweet as before. It’s a pleasant surprise.”

“Glad I could be of service,” Farsi said, executing a mock military salute.

This too seemed to make the other girl smile and come closer. Joy radiated in her eyes before she pulled away and shook off the feeling.

“Say…” Luna said, smiling sweetly. “You wanna dance with me?”