The Music Room

Obligatory disclaimers: All characters are 18 or older.

Yes, I'm aware rape/coercion/etc is illegal, this is a fictional/fantasy story where such things can be explored without condoning them.

One of the characters is transgender.

This is a trans-positive piece of erotica

, so if you feel you can't handle that, go find something else to read. :)

*****

As I listened moodily to the rain lashing against the windows, I reflected on what a rotten birthday this was turning out to be. Your eighteenth is supposed to be a bit special, and what had I gotten? A missed alarm, a run for the bus, and six hours of classes on an empty stomach, and just as I was about to walk home, the heavens opened up and I'd had to duck quickly into the music block before I got soaked. After five minutes of standing around it was showing no signs of letting up, so I decided to use the time a bit more productively and headed for the music rooms.

The one at the far end of the corridor was my favourite. It was a little larger than the others, with room for both a piano and a drumkit, as well as a small table. Also, the door locked, which was handy when I was trying to evade the attentions of one Josh Schroeder, the class asshole who for whatever reason had it in for me. He'd been suspiciously quiet in the three classes we'd shared today, and hadn't even shoved me into the wall when he'd passed me in the corridor. Either he was having a crisis of conscience, or he was plotting something. I'd put money on the latter, so I appreciated the comfort the lock provided.

It was quiet in the music room, the shrieking of the wind muffled by the soundproofing. I dumped my bag by the piano stool and sat down, then worked through a couple of warmup exercises as I thought about what kind of piece would suit my current mood. Maybe the Bartok. It was technically difficult, discordant and stormy. It would fit with the weather as well.

I launched into it, letting the music pour through me. My hands danced over the keys with the ease of long practice, and I felt myself relaxing. Playing music always calmed me down, always made my day a little brighter.

Maybe the downpour would prove to be a good thing after all.

--------

I let the last chord of a Rachmaninov piece I'd always been fond of die away, and flexed my fingers meditatively. The rain was a little lighter now, pattering rather than hammering on the windows, and the odds were good I'd be able to walk home in less than an hour.

What time was it, anyway? I reached over to the small table where I'd left my phone, and froze. It wasn't there anymore.

"Do you do requests?" drawled a voice from behind me. I jumped up, my calm shattered, and spun to face its owner.

Josh Schroeder. In my music room. He was leaning insolently against the door, arms folded across his chest, my phone in his hand. My head whirled, and I looked around in a panic. There had to be another way out of here.

Schroeder noticed my fear, and grinned. Fuck, I hated that grin. It always showed up just before I had something horrible happen to me. It also made my heart lurch in my chest, just a little. Because, let's face it, Schroeder was unbelievably gorgeous. A year or so older than me, he was just over six feet of tanned, toned athleticism, wavy sun-bleached hair, and dark green eyes that had inspired a record quantity of bad poetry amongst his female admirers.

"I'm serious, you know. You're good with your hands." he said, in a conversational tone. He flipped my phone cover open and regarded the lock screen with an air of faint puzzlement.

I fought my voice steady, and glared at him.

"What the hell are you doing in here? I locked the door."

He ignored me pointedly, started tapping on the screen. "What's your code, Mikey-boy?"

My fists balled involuntarily. "Don't call me that, Schroeder. And go to hell, I'm not telling you anything." I wasn't going to win this, whatever this turned out to be, but I was damned if I was going down without a fight.

He shrugged. And then that asshole reached up and put my phone on top of the door jamb. I wasn't going to have any trouble getting it down, but it left him with two hands free and both my objectives behind him. I felt myself bracing, for what I wasn't sure, but Schroeder didn't move. He looked me up and down with that goddamned grin again, and I suddenly felt oddly hot. There was something different there...

"Look at you, all ready for a fight."

"Only 'cause you always seem to want to start one." I shot back. "I don't feel like playing games today. Either get on with it or go fuck yourself."

"Take it easy, Mikey-boy, I've decided to be nice today. You can leave any time you like. You just have to do one little thing for me."

There was going to be a catch, there was always a catch...

"Get on your knees." he said, and there was a strange hitch in his voice.

"Eh?" I managed, confused. This was out of left field.

Schroeder stepped away from the door, and I moved backwards to keep out of his reach. I wasn't fast enough, and he grabbed my shoulders, forcing me down.

"Knees. Now." he commanded. I tried to resist, but he'd always been stronger than me. As I collapsed to the ground, he seized a handful of my hair with one hand, and began to fumble with his belt buckle.

Jesus, he was hard! I could see the bulge in his jeans, inches from my face. I struggled, trying to push away, and he pulled my head back forcefully. I cried out at the sudden pain.

"You get to choose, Mikey. Do you want my cock in your mouth, or your ass? Because if you fight me, it's going to be your ass, and I won't be nice anymore."

"Go fuck a stump, you diseased baboon!" I gasped out, trying to break his grip. He yanked my hair again, making the tears stand out in my eyes.

"That sounds like fighting to me. Last chance." Schroeder said, with a new edge in his voice. I froze, suddenly aware that he was serious, that this wasn't a fresh kind of sick joke he'd thought up. There wasn't going to be a way out, aside from cooperating.

I swallowed, throat dry. "Mouth." I whispered.

"Good boy." he said, releasing my hair. "Now get on with it."

Face burning with shame, I reached for his belt. The bulge was larger now, and I struggled to pull the zip of his jeans down over it. As my hands grazed over it, Schroeder made a soft noise, exhaling suddenly. Slowly, as slowly as I dared, I pulled his jeans down. A rush of sensations flooded my mind; the wiry blond hairs on his thighs, the red flash of his boxers, the sick, jittery feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"That's it. Hurry it up, Mikey, I don't have all day."

A shove on the back of my head punctuated his command, and a hand grabbed my wrist, forcing my trembling fingers towards the band of his underwear. I weakly complied, pulling at his boxers until his cock sprang free.

Jesus, he was enormous! I'd be the first to admit I hadn't had much experience with other guys' dicks, but even from my limited knowledge I was stunned. Involuntarily I reached towards Schroeder's cock, the desire to touch it welling up, to make sure I wasn't imagining things. As my fingers brushed over his shaft, Schroeder made a noise that sounded very much like a gasp. A drop of wetness appeared at the tip of his cock.

"Stop teasing me, asshole!" he growled, and grabbed my hair again, twisting it painfully.

Tears standing out in my eyes, I gingerly took his cock in my hand, and began stroking it.

"Jesus fuck, your hands are like silk!" Schroeder groaned softly, and his grip on my hair relaxed, no longer painful. I thought momentarily about pulling away, but I doubted I'd be fast enough, and I certainly wasn't strong enough. I kept stroking his cock, hoping he'd be satisfied with that. Yet somehow, this wasn't proving as awful as I'd thought.

After a few seconds (few hours? It seemed to be taking forever) my tormentor interrupted.

"I said mouth, and I meant it, Mikey." he said, his voice hoarse. I tried to pull back, but he yanked my hair again, making me yelp.

"I'm gonna fuck that cute little mouth of yours whether you want me to or not. It'll hurt less if you cooperate. And trust me, you know how much I can make you hurt."

I sure did. The last year had been a fucking nightmare at his hands. And feet and elbows. Better get this over with as fast as possible.

Stomach turning over (in revulsion? Anticipation?), I opened my mouth and tentatively licked the head of his cock. The salty-sour taste was strange, but not unpleasant, and I ran my tongue around, feeling Schroeder's cock twitch as he groaned again. He suddenly pushed down on my head, forcing my mouth over him and making me gag and splutter as his intruding member hit the back of my throat. He let me pull back until I was no longer choking, then pushed me down again. I planted a hand on his abdomen, wrapping the other around the base of his cock as I tried to gain some control. My mouth banged painfully against my hand, but Schroeder's cock was no longer assaulting my throat, and I felt his fingers loosen on my hair.

"Fuck, that feels so good." he moaned helplessly. "Jesus Christ."

I glanced up at him, surprised at how suddenly vulnerable he sounded, and felt his abs contract abruptly as he gasped.

"You flirty little shit." he managed, his green eyes taking on a hungry look. "God, you look so hot down there sucking my cock."

My heart crashed suddenly in my chest. He was fucking perfect, and he though

I

was hot? Sure, I hated him, but there's a weird kind of attraction in hate. Struck by a sudden impulse, I slipped my hand off his abdomen and down over his thigh. He hissed between his teeth and leaned back against the table. I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, then took as much of him into my mouth as I could, and as I softly caressed his balls I heard him whimper.

"Aw Jesus, don't stop. Fuck, that's so good, where did... Oh God."

Schroeder was panting now, his head tipped back. He was gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white, and I felt a strange thrill at seeing him so defenceless before me. For once I had power over him, and with that realisation came a kind of fierce joy. Sure, I wasn't exactly in the most dignified of positions, but I'd take what I could get.

I found a rhythm, my mouth and hand bobbing back and forth on his cock. I tried to fit all of him into my mouth at once, but had to retreat coughing as his cock hit the back of my throat.

"Don't stop, don't stop!" he cried as I caught my breath.

"Don't stop...?" I asked, taking perverse delight at the pained look on his face.

"Please." he begged, pushing his hips towards me. "I'm so close, I'm so fucking close, Mick. Please don't stop."

He used my name, not his goddamned pet irritation. Hah!

I grinned at him, enjoying his distress, but decided not to mess with him any longer. The fingers once again twisting in my hair might have had something to do with it too. I licked around the head of his cock, then took it into my mouth again. Guided by his hand on my head, I found the rhythm he wanted, and felt his cock swell as he moaned and tipped his head back.

"Fuck, I'm coming!" he cried out, and his cock spasmed once, twice, and a gush of salt filled my mouth. I swallowed hurriedly, trying to force down as much of the thick liquid as I could, but I was choking for breath. Finally, Schroeder pulled my head back, and I gasped in air. Panting, I wiped an errant white trickle off my chin.

"Jesus wept." Schroeder whispered, looking down at me. "That was better than... I never thought..."

He trailed off incoherently, still staring at me. Then he seemed to come to some kind of decision, and grabbed the front of my shirt, hauling me to my feet. I began to protest when his mouth met mine, with a kind of savage desperation that frightened me.

I tried to push Schroeder away. Shoving frantically at his shoulders, I managed to free myself from his grip, but he drove back against me, and I crashed into the wall. As I struggled to get my breath back, he was on me again, pinning my wrists together above my head with a single hand.

"Stop fighting me, Mick. I know you want this." he murmured, and I shivered as I felt the heat of his breath on my neck.

"Are you fucking nuts? Let me go!" I demanded. "I sucked you off, that was the deal!" I tried to kick him, but my angle wasn't good, and I collected the table instead. The sudden shooting pain in my toes would have made me double over, if I could move.

"Maybe I want to do something nice for you."

My attempt at a response was cut off as he kissed me again, almost tenderly. I turned my head, attempting to break the contact, but he firmly steered me back with his free hand. He forced my mouth open, and I felt his tongue pass between my lips.

As he explored my mouth, I considered my options. I really, really did not want him to go any further, but I was pretty much helpless. I hated his guts, but he wasn't actually hurting me now, which was an improvement. He pulled back slightly, looked into my eyes from mere inches away, and my heart lurched as I saw the lust in his wildly-dilated pupils.

"Just relax and enjoy it." he said, and grinned his malicious fucking grin. I started to cuss him out, but I abruptly stopped as his lips softly brushed my neck and a bolt of tingling energy shot straight to my crotch. I heard a low moan and realised it had come from me. Again another soft kiss, and again the tingle. Schroeder moved down, reached my collar bone, and I felt a series of jerks as he undid my shirt buttons. I didn't want that, but if he kept kissing me I wasn't going to be in any state to complain.

"What's with the scars, Mikey?" he asked, tracing one of the curved marks that lay along the line of my admittedly underwhelming pecs.

"Bears." I lied, then gasped as he ran his tongue over my nipple. The blood pulsed in my loins, and I was beginning to feel a trace of wetness forming. Fuck he was good with his mouth!

"I told you you'd enjoy it." Schroeder said, standing straight again. He reached down and started fumbling with the button on my jeans.

Panic rose, and I struggled against his hand, trying to pull my wrists free. He paused, looked at me in confusion.

"Don't!" I pleaded, trying to turn so he wouldn't have access. "Please, anything you like, just not that!"

"Why not? Now I'm interested." my tormentor said, and he forced his leg between mine, pinning me harder to the wall. He slid a questing hand inside my jeans, and I closed my eyes miserably, waiting for the fallout.

There was a pause. Then...

"Fuuuck." breathed Schroeder. "Jesus, Mick, that's fucking hot."

He brushed a finger over my clit, and I moaned as a wave of heat spread through me. Then his mouth was on mine again, and he was kissing me hungrily, urgently, and his fingers traced circles over and around my clit, with a deftness that sent electricity tingling through my whole body. I shuddered, unable to support my own weight, as he kissed my neck again. A gentle pressure at the entrance to my pussy, and I bit back a squeal as Schroeder slowly drove a finger inside.

"Shit, you're so tight!" he said. I writhed as a second finger joined the first, and felt my hips buck towards him. A spot deep inside me was demanding contact, and a strange mix of tension and relief flooded me as Schroeder curled his fingers towards it. His thumb brushed over my clit again, and I saw fireworks behind my eyes.

"I'm gonna come!" I moaned, feeling pressure building unbearably. My body didn't seem to belong to me anymore, and as Schroeder let go of my wrists I clung to him, pushing down onto his hand. The pressure broke, and I cried out as my legs gave way. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me, then began ebbing as I gradually returned to awareness.

Schroeder pulled his hand away, and I gasped at the sensations in my suddenly-tender pussy. He raised the hand to his mouth, and sucked his fingers clean. The hungry look hadn't left his eyes, and he was breathing a little hard.

"Good?" he asked. I nodded, incapable of speaking just yet, and sat down heavily on the table. My eyes strayed to Schroeder's cock, noting with a rush that he was hard again. A sudden image of what I wanted him to do with it flashed into my head, and I moaned under my breath. He must have noticed, because he grinned, and for once I didn't hate that grin.

"Sounds like you want more, eh, Mikey?" he said, stepping towards me. I nodded again, even as I felt a flicker of fear. He was so fucking big, there was no way this wasn't going to hurt.

"Well, we'd better lose these." Schroeder continued, reaching for the waistband of my jeans. I shifted my weight to let them down, then jumped as I felt his hands on my ass. He squeezed hard, and leaned down to nibble my earlobe. I leaned back on my hands, closed my eyes, revelling in the sensations he was evoking.

I felt him move back slightly, then a sudden warm wetness grazed over my clit. I gasped in surprise, and looked down to see him crouched before me, his head between my legs. The warm wetness - his tongue, I realised - slid down and prodded gently at the entrance to my pussy. I shook slightly with anticipation as he circled teasingly, then his tongue pushed inside and I moaned softly as the new sensation pushed me dangerously close to coming again. He traced back up to my clit, then down again, before standing up and pushing his jeans further down.

He paused, then asked "Do we have to worry about condoms?" I shook my head.

"No ovaries." I clarified.

"Good." he said, and lifted my legs up and apart. A pressure began and built, and I held my breath in expectation. The pressure started getting painful, and I wriggled uncomfortably, then cried out as the head of Schroeder's cock abruptly penetrated.

"Be gentle!" I pleaded, trying to accustom myself to the intrusion.

"I'm trying!" Schroeder replied through gritted teeth. "You're so fucking tight!" He reached down to my clit, working it gently, making me moan as the sudden tingling overlaid the pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed in further, then just as slowly pulled back again. He repeated this several times, each time making his way further inside my aching pussy, until I felt him hit something deep inside.

"I'm so full, I'm so fucking full!" I whined helplessly, impaled on his cock. I wriggled, frantically trying to get used to the sensation, and Schroeder hissed between his teeth. He pulled back, leaving me almost as painfully empty as I had been full, then thrust back in again, less gentle now. His hand left my clit as he moved to support his weight, so I reached down and started stroking myself, desperate to keep the pain under control. Though it was less now, much less, as he entered and withdrew, slowly at first but gradually building in speed. And then suddenly there was no pain, none at all, and I was crying out, my hips bucking up towards his thrusts as my need to have him deep inside me mounted. I felt Schroeder's hands on my ass, pulling me towards him as he speared my pussy again and again.

"Oh God, fuck me!" I heard myself moan as I felt the pressure building again. "Fuck me harder, Josh, I need you!"

"I'm gonna come, Mick!" he replied hoarsely. Then he leaned down and kissed me on the neck, hard, and I cried out as I came, squeezing around his cock as the orgasm crashed through me. Moments later, his cock plunged deep into my pussy for the last time, and spurt after hot spurt filled me.

We stayed like that for a while, the occasional twitch of his cock making me whimper slightly. Then with a sigh, Schroeder straightened up and gently withdrew.

Hands on hips, he looked me up and down, then grinned. "You look so hot like that, you know?" he said. "Though we'd better clean up before someone looks in. You're rather loud when you're enjoying yourself."