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MidReal Story
The Nightlife Diaries
Scenario:Crossdressers and drugs and trans sex, gender bending erotica meth poppers hotel rooms
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Alex Thompson
rebellious, and introspective. Alex navigates the complexities of his identity, often using drugs and sexual encounters to cope with feelings of isolation. He meets Jamie, another crossdresser, for intimate encounters that challenge societal norms. Despite his struggles with selfacceptance, Alex finds solace in the freedom of the city's nightlife.
Jamie Wilson
empathetic, and secretive. Jamie meets Alex in hotel rooms for intimate encounters that blur traditional gender lines. Their relationship is built on shared desires and a need for connection in a world where they feel misunderstood. Jamie's interactions with Alex provide a sense of belonging and acceptance, even if only temporary.
Sarah Mitchell
protective, and understanding. Sarah often helps Alex by providing him with clothes and makeup for his performances. Her friendship with Alex is rooted in mutual trust and acceptance, offering him a sense of stability amidst the chaos of his nightlife adventures.
I stand in the dimly lit hotel room, in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.
My platinum blonde hair falls to my shoulders in an edgy, layered cut.
I apply dark, smoky eye makeup that contrasts with my pale, almost translucent skin.
Once I’m done, I turn to the bed where my clothes are scattered.
Amongst the plush pillows and scattered garments, my black bra lies nestled, peeking out at me invitingly.
I pick it up and slip it on my torso, feeling the soft fabric against my skin.
Next, I slip on a pair of black panties and a pair of stockings.
I then get into a black outfit and finish it off with a pair of stiletto heels.
After applying a coat of red lipstick to my lips, I glance at my reflection in the mirror and am satisfied with what I see.
I then turn my attention to the wooden wardrobe in the corner of the room.
I open its doors and reveal a collection of drugs: meth, marijuana, ecstasy, and poppers.
I take a hit of meth and then slip some poppers into my bag along with some ecstasy and marijuana.
I apply a coat of lip gloss to my lips and grab my keys before heading out the door.
I hail a taxi and head into the city.
The neon glow of the city lights illuminates the dark sky as we drive past underground clubs and dimly lit bars.
I get out of the taxi and head into The Blue Room, a gay bar downtown that I frequent.
The Blue Room is known for its dimly lit atmosphere and its clientele of mostly men.
I make my way to the bar and sit down on one of the velvet barstools that line the edge of the room.
The bartender, who knows me by name, nods at me and slides me my usual vodka tonic.
I take a sip of my drink and look around the bar.
I notice a few guys eyeing me up from the corner of their eyes, but I don’t give them any attention.
I get up off my barstool and head towards the bathroom in the back of the club.
In the bathroom, I take out my house key and carefully measure out a small amount of crystal meth onto it.
I then place the key to my lips and tap out the bitter powder onto my tongue with my finger.
After doing a line of meth, I head back out of the bathroom and settle back into my spot at the bar.
As I sit there, I cross one leg over the other, allowing my short skirt to ride up my thighs slightly.
The drugs start hitting me as I sit there, making my skin more sensitive to touch and the neon lights glow brighter. I adjust the top half of my outfit so that it shows off my shoulders and sits tight against my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice two men looking at me from their spot at the end of the bar.
I pretend not to notice them as they continue to steal glances at me, occasionally exchanging whispers with each other about me.
The vodka and meth mix together in my system, coursing through my veins and making my skin feel hypersensitive.
I perch myself on the edge of my barstool, pressing my stockinged thighs together as I take a sip of my drink.
The bass of the club’s music thrums through me, making every molecule of my body feel electric.
I sit there for a few minutes, pretending to scroll through my phone while I continue to let the drugs wash over me.
The silk fabric of my lingerie brushes against my sensitive skin, causing me to squirm in my seat.
I uncross and recross my legs, allowing my stiletto heel to dangle from my foot as I move.
The movement catches the attention of the men at the end of the bar, causing them to exchange more whispers about me.
My heart rate quickens as I sit there under their gaze.
A small bead of sweat rolls down along the curve of my collar bone.
I reach up and adjust the strap of my top, letting it slide slightly off of my shoulder as I do so. The drugs amplify every sensation in my body: the brush of fabric against skin, the cool air on the exposed parts of my torso, and the weight of their stares on me as I sit there.
After a few minutes, I signal for another drink and deliberately drop my phone so that I have an excuse to bend down and pick it up.
As I lean down, I catch my reflection in the mirror that lines the wall behind the bar.
The dim lighting of the bar softens my features and makes my eyes appear larger than usual.
I continue to let the drugs wash over me as I sit there, hyper-aware of every sensation in my body.
I run a finger along the rim of my glass, drawing attention to my long, red-painted nails.
The ice cubes in my drink clink as I raise it to my lips, letting the cool liquid slide slowly down my throat.
Through lowered lashes, I see that the taller of the two men has leaned forward in his seat, his eyes fixed on my mouth as I take a sip of my drink.
His friend whispers something in his ear, causing him to laugh before returning his gaze back to me.
I tilt my head to the side slightly, exposing the sensitive skin of my neck as I take another slow sip of my drink.
The bass thrums through the bar as I pivot slightly on my stool, angling my body towards them. My heart pounds in my chest as I finally allow myself to look up at them.
"Are you going to keep watching, or do you want to come over and say hi?" I call out, my voice cutting through the music.
The taller man smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Depends," he replies, his eyes never leaving mine. "Are you here for business or pleasure tonight?"
His friend nudges him with an elbow, grinning. "Or maybe both?"
I watch as the taller man stands up from his stool and begins to walk towards me.
He is wearing a dark suit jacket that stretches across his broad shoulders, and a white dress shirt underneath.
His dark hair is styled perfectly, and his eyes are fixed on me as he walks.
My pulse quickens as he slides onto the barstool next to me, positioning himself so that his knee brushes against my thigh.
The meth makes every point of contact feel electric, and I fight the urge to squirm in my seat.
"Marcus," he says, extending his hand towards me.
"I’m Alex," I reply, taking his hand in mine.
I notice the glint of a wedding ring on his finger as he signals for the bartender.
His friend hangs back, watching our interaction with obvious interest.
Marcus leans in towards me, causing his cologne to mingle with the stale air of the bar.
I adjust my position slightly on my stool, allowing my skirt to ride up my thighs slightly. "You look beautiful tonight," Marcus says, his voice low and intimate.
I lean in towards him, allowing my perfume to mingle with his cologne.
The meth makes every brush of fabric against my skin feel like a caress, and I shift slightly in my seat, allowing my silk skirt to slide even higher up my thighs.
My fingers continue to trace the rim of my glass as I study Marcus’ face in the dim lighting of the bar.
I notice the slight stubble that lines his jaw, and the way his throat moves as he swallows.
His wedding ring glints in the light of the bar again as he reaches for his drink.
"What brings you here tonight?"
I ask, allowing my voice to drop slightly lower and more intimate.
He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear, "A chance to forget."
I lean back slightly, keeping eye contact with him as I continue to run a finger along the rim of my glass.
The meth makes every sensation feel heightened, and I am intensely aware of the ring on his finger.
I can hear his friend ordering a drink behind us, but he seems to have disappeared into the crowd.
It’s as if we are alone in our own little bubble at the bar.
I let my hand brush against Marcus’ thigh as I reach for my clutch in front of me.
"I just need to check something real quick," I say, pretending to check my phone.
The silk of my stockings makes a soft sound as I cross my legs again, drawing his gaze down to my thighs.
He shifts slightly in his seat, causing the fabric of his pants to stretch across his lap.
I glance at his ring one last time, then slip a card into his hand and whisper, "Call me when you're ready to remember."
