The Underground...
What Jak had once called the "armpit of the city" was slowly earning a much worse designation.
The Underground was no longer a safe space to him at this point. It had become a cage meant to contain.
Jak hated being contained.
Even before his capture and imprisonment, he hated staying in one place for too long. He often caught wanderlust like a virus, and found himself carried to the far reaches of Haven's outskirts whenever he could get away.
His two years of captivity only amped up his hyperactivity to an unbelievable level.
Now, as he sat on a bare mattress in the corner of Torn's little prep room, Jak could feel the invisible chains of captivity around him.
He could be outside right now...blowing shit up or fucking up some KG, but instead Torn's got him glued to the bunk...under strict orders to stay in the safehouse until further notice.
Apparently, the KG have started an indefinite lockdown of the slums. Specifically, after someone infiltrated the palace...and kicked the Baron's ass...not pointing any fingers.
The agents in the area scattered to safe houses like roaches under a light. And after helping some relocate, Jak was unfortunate enough to be close enough to the main HQ, so that meant he was stuck here...
...with Torn...
...for Mar knows how long.
Literally no one else had come to hunker down in the main building...excluding the Shadow of course, but he didn't really count since he was always here...like Torn. Meaning Jak was pretty much isolated in this shitty dump of a hideout.
At least if Daxter had been here, he wouldn't have been as bored, but he unwisely left him at the Hiphog with Tess. He originally intended to join him after the relocations, but he took too long and before he could leave, the lockdown started. He barely made it to the HQ unspotted.
It had already been a week now...an entire week of staring at the walls and listening to Torn grumble about some inane bullshit.
Speaking of, he glanced over at the other man as he hunched over the plethora of maps and reports littering his war table. Jak often wondered how the hell he could stand there in that same position for so long and not have the posture of an old man suffering from scoliosis.
He decided to once again futilely engage the other in conversation...if only to escape the deafening silence, "Torn..."
...
"Torn, I'm so fucking bored."
…
Nothing.
"Torn-"
"I heard you the first 15 times, asshole." The other grumbled, not even wasting the energy to look up at him.
…
"Gimme something to do."
"Do I look like your fucking babysitter?!" Torn growled as he kept his eyes trained on his war table, "Count the dead flies in the bathroom, take a nap, perform a dark maker ritual to summon a demon, just whatever you do keep it quiet so I can work."
Ended the same way every time.
Torn didn't even spare him a single glance this entire week.
Not that he wanted the older man's attention or anything...but even getting into a petty screaming match would be better than... whatever the fuck this was.
He was going stir crazy in here...
...and it didn't help that he hasn't gotten laid for a couple weeks now.
He used to be able to pick up someone from the Hiphog to fuck around with, and occasionally his fellow underground comrades would lend their dick to him...often as a thank you for saving their asses.
It still baffled Jak how surprisingly easy it was to find a willing partner once they realize you're packing something...interesting.
In Jak's case, it was his vagina.
If the Underground had one good thing going for it, it was the fact that its members often consisted of those who did not fit inside the social norms of sexuality.
Jak expected harsh rejections due to his unique equipment, but more often than not he was met with enthusiasm.
When he was younger, Jak used to hate his body with a passion, as it did not accurately reflect how he saw himself.
If there was one saving grace to come out of his dark eco torture, it was the unexpected hormone replacement and body altering.
Turns out, if you don't die from Dark eco poisoning, it's really great for sexual reassignment treatments.
A happy little byproduct of agonizing pain.
After the dark eco had altered his body to fit the masculinity he had craved ever since he was little, Jak had enjoyed his new body to the fullest. No longer needing to bind his chest was freeing, and he enjoyed showing off his body to his future conquests.
The dark eco didn't manage to change his lower genitals, but looking on the bright side...keeping his cunt just meant he could get dick a whole lot easier.
On that thought, after reaching his limit for withstanding the constant lack of entertainment, he decided to fall back on the only real way he knew how to alleviate his boredom...the way he'd been spending it several times a day, nearly every day of this week.
Masturbation.
And this is where the story ends because decided to censor me.
Despite the fact that SEVERAL more erotic stories exist on here, for some reason, they decided to pick out the ONE TRANS FIC I wrote. Kinda sus ...ngl. You got something against dudes with vaginas? Anyways, if you want to read the rest of this in all its glory, head on over to the VASTLY SUPERIOR SITE Ao3.
Here's the link /works/37549642/chapters/93721495
Thanks for the censorship ! Maybe now you can censor all the other porn fics you've let slip past you all these years instead of picking on the little Trans x Intersex erotica. :)