Imagine a world were being a trans boy is not only accepted but precious:
Being bound tightly in the center of town wearing a chastity belt with two thick inflatable toys to keep your holes occupied, there are holes at the bottom so your thick sexual fluid can drop into a decorative bowl that's on a pedestal between your forcibly spread legs. The belt ends just below your clitoris.
Local tradition states that rubbing the pearl of a cuntboy brings luck. Throughout the day business men come and give a rub as they pray for promotions, wishful young ladies suckle your nipples in hopes that soon their tits will grow heavy while their stomach expands as they swell with new life, students dip their fingers in your slick and give a good hard rub to really gather luck.
Not everyone is gentle.
When the letter from a dream college comes and their kid is denied the parents come and pump and pump the toys until your traveling, pleading with them to stop but they want you to really understand the pressure their child went through. Your tender nipples and chest are beaten until they're mottled with bruises after the pregnancy a couple begged and pleaded for didn't take. One particularly cruel young man takes out his frustration at being rejected by pinch, stroking and smacking your once dainty little button until it's a grotesque red purple color and throbbing. Far too tender to even touch without you trembling.
The only way to leave this life is for your "luck" to run out. No one knows what happens after that though.
