wanna brutalise my ass so bad until it gapes like a second pussy. wanna always feel a bit sore and humiliated. wanna never feel satisfied and have to take bigger and bigger things to feel any stretch at all
“fuck her straight” no fuck her gayer. she should be bouncing back on it thinking to herself about how much she fucking hates the idea of dating men and how much she can’t fucking stand her own body’s cravings for cock. she should be cumming on it so hard it feels like a betrayal to herself and everything she stands for. she should be licking my balls and inhaling my scent and filled with revulsion at how much she fucking loves it.
Pulling on your chains so you can step up on my boots. Holding the small of your back and taking the lead as I make you dance with me. Swaying and dancing to the most romantic songs that you always wished your past loves did with you. Crying into my chest and confused as to why it feels so nice when I'm a stranger. When I'm clearly violent. When I'm clearly never going to give you your freedom back.
Trans girl here, thinking about you rimming me while I invite men over to violate your cunt and asshole, keeping your your face under my skirt the entire time so you can't even see what they're doing.
Maybe after we can be cute and femme together while I make fun of you for leaking cum.
I've held onto this ask for so long because I think it's so cute maybe do you wanna walk through the park after and get ice cream? Or to the aquarium??
The cool voice hums softly by my ear, and the leather strap wrapped around my throat tightens another degree, digging into my skin. Each breath I pull in is gasping, my head pounding as my blood flow to my brain restricts further.
"Cutting supply seems to arouse the patient," The voice remarks, and a latex gloved finger drags through my folds. I twitch, hips rocking, though my movements are limited by the thickly padded cuffs around my wrists and ankles. The throat strap is connected to the examination table, so can only stare up at the ceiling, the bright lights overhead illuminating my vulnerable form.
The click of a pen light is the only warning I have before fingers pry my eyes open wider, shining the light in until my pupil constricts. "Petechial hemorrhage is beginning in the conjunctivi." Those same fingers peel lack my lips, and I can taste myself on the slick material. "As well as in the oral cavity."
I feel faint, foggy, sweaty breaking out in beads across my skin as that hand returns to my cunt. A strangled cry escapes me as they shove in two fingers without warning, stretching my cunt in a way that feels delicious, but oh so wrong.
Soon, the only sound in the room is the wet squelch of my cunt being fucked and my own strangled gasps. The doctor stays quiet, though every so often I can hear the hitch of breath, the hiss of air through teeth, a soft groan in answer to the wheezy whimpers I let out.
When their thumb starts to circle around my clit, black spots start to dance in front of my vision, and my mind is at war with my body. Just as I'm about to explode, the doctor withdraws their hand from my body, leaving me crashing and twitching on the table in front of them. My cunt pulses around nothing, arousal making a puddle on the brown paper beneath me, and I let out a dry sob, my body shaking with the force of the ruined orgasm.
I can barely hear the doctor over my own harsh breathing, my chest heaving with the force of it.
"Trial 3 completed." They sound as out of breath as I am, an excited quiver on their voice. The click of a recorder being shut off sounds next to my ear as a masked face looms over me, blurry from oxygen deprivation.
"You're doing so well, my sweet thing." They croon, gloved fingers stroking over my sweaty cheek and jaw, smoothing the hair back from my reddened face. "Just two more trials to go, and then you can have a rest."
I know begging is useless, but I open my mouth to try. Their hand covers my mouth, and I feel the strap around my throat tighten again. My vision wavers, fingers going numb as I stare with unfocused eyes up at them. The recorder clicks on, and I'm lost.
something something dad stalker. dad putting a tracker in his kid like you would a dog without them knowing. dad following them when they go out and watching them sleep. dad can still find ways to be a stalker even if they live together :)
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