She liked the smell of jasmine, Though that was not her name. She stared at her reflection. Blotchy skin, eyes too pale to hold color. Her hair was too coarse and not pleasant to touch. She turned on the metronome and began her breathing exercises. First with the breath, then with warm-up stretches, then saluting the sun.

Sweat glistened on her awkward body, as she turned on the shower water - cold. Letting it run, she squirted a gob of shampoo on her hands and worked it into her hair. Rinsing the shampoo off her hands, she dried them on the nearby towel. The water still running she went over to the toilet, straddle-stood over it, angling her cock toward the bowl, and tried to relax, as she focused on encouraging thoughts trying to get her shy bladder to release its flow. It began with a trickle, and then the stream joined the chorus of running water sounds in the bathroom - static to the metronome clicking - like some weird avant-garde composition.

Shaking the last drops off, she stepped into the shower. Turning her back to the cold spray she scrubbed the jasmine-infused shampoo into her coarse, thick hair. Her mouth was ajar in pleasure as her hands scratched her scalp. She had buck teeth, so her mouth often fell agape and just rested there in a sort of gawky default expression.

Once all the shampoo was worked in and rinsed out. She turned to face the spray and let it run over her perky small tits and down her pudgy tummy. Grabbing a bar of soap she rubbed it on her body raw, letting the lather kiss and slide against her skin. Making sure she got all her spots and rinsed all the soap off. She turned off the water, and stood there letting herself drip dry a moment, listening to the metronome like it was pulling her into a kind of trance.

Her cock got chubby, and she choked the head of it and jerked it hard, then squeezed her balls and fingered her ass, while the other hand choke-stroked it, til she grunted her orgasm and swayed on her feet - a clear bead of cum wept its tear to the shower floor. The hormones stole her ability to shoot anything more than that. But the orgasms were mind-blowingly better.

She got out of the shower and walked naked to her bedroom, realized she forgot the towel, and went back to the bathroom to grab the towel, to dab dry her hair, and then do the same for her body, she went to the full-size mirror again and stared at her reflection, turning her head this way and that. Blinking slowly - giving herself a glance of approval. But smiled when she had half turned to check out her ass.

Getting dressed in clothes she set out for herself the night before. She liked retro fashion - corset fit tops, with polka dots, like Neo-Victorian meets Rockabilly 1950s. Wiggling her chubby thighs into her stockings and smoothing down the black mini skirt to go with her cherry-red top. She mushed her hair in a wig cap, and then picked her favorite blonde wig to wear, and then applied makeup. Simple gloss and some mascara, maybe a bit of blush to make her cheeks look … healthy and a bit of foundation to even her blotchy skin tone.

Then she slipped on her buckle wedge shoes and went looking for her purse. The metronome was swaying her mind again, making her chub up in her pantyhose. She exhaled harshly and rubbed her hand on her bulge, her eyes slid closed as her hand went harder, faster, before she grunted softly, cumming again, her body trembling as she sighed the pleasure out of her body like steam from a kettle.

She went over to turn the metronome off before she lost the day to her libido’s rhythm and its love of trance-induced orgasms to the common time beat. Finding her purse, she made her way out to work. The day ahead was often a welcome adventure for her.  She liked that she could quietly make herself cum, if she stumbled upon the right rhythm and followed it into a trance, til it made everything tight in her body, and then flooded her with happy chemicals. 

She was a self-hypnosis fangirl. She often sought out new bands for the same reason. The rhythms in which they composed their songs, could offer an enticing trance experience, leading to powerful trancegasms. She even felt an attraction to other people, in her unique lithromantic way to those in the band. And it gave her a sense of inclusion in society. To feel like she had a significant other like everyone else.

But she wasn't like everyone else, and that used to bother her for a long time - but every time she caught a rhythm, and followed it to its happy climax, she felt special, and never wished to be any other way.