Happy pride to all the *real* trans men and butches and trans women who get to fuck fakeboy pussies and make them realize how much of a cocksleeve they truly are<3
God portal pussies though.... my boyfriend hooks one up to link to me for some teasing and it's all fun and games until the conversation turns during game night. One of his friends has been curious, and wondering if they're really worth the hype. So my boyfriend obviously offers to bring his out and let his buddies inspect it.
They have no idea I'm trans, and there's people who make money by renting their holes out, so there's no reason for them to think it's me they're fingering. I have to keep my cool while the toy is passed around and everyone talks about how nice and tight the pussy is, and what a slut the girl it's connected to must be. Because why would they ever assume a guy has a pussy?
I take the first chance I get to excuse myself and hide in the bathroom, but that was my biggest mistake. In my absence my boyfriend reveals who the toy is really connected to, offers to let his buddies fuck me. Which they do. And when they're done they start stuffing the toy with whatever they can find, all the while I'm in the bathroom, trying not to make a noise as I cum over and over from the abuse. I completely miss when my boyfriend offers to let his buddies hook their portal pussies up to me, and this demonstration and certainly convinced them to buy their own.
Important reminders for ftmgirls. 💕 Repeat until you finally understand.
There is nothing masculine about me. I could never be masculine. Masculinity is foreign to me. Femininity is natural for me. I am feminine. I am female. I am a girl.
Dysphoria is good. Dysphoria is healthy. Dysphoria is nature reminding me that I am weak, vulnerable and female. Dysphoria is a constant reminder of my femininity.
I'm not a man. I could never be a real man. Real men don't fantasize about being fucked like desperate little girls. Real men don't get wet when they hear their real names. Real men don't beg other men to degrade, abuse and violate them. Real men don't play with their tits.
I'm not a man. I'm a girl. I am beneath men. I am unequal to men. Men know what's good for me. I submit to my natural role as a girl. I am docile. I am weak. I am feminine. I feel feminine. My head feels feminine. My heart feels feminine. Every time my pussy drips I feel so feminine and girly.
Men are smart. Girls are dumb. I'm a girl. I'm dumb. I'm not smart. Brains are for boys and my thoughts are just noise. Brains are for boys and my thoughts are just noise. Brains are for boys and my thoughts are just noise. I live to serve men. I was born to serve men. I love men. I listen to men because they are smart. I listen to men because they know what's best for me.
I rub my clit everyday. I feel so feminine when I rub my clit. I edge away the dysphoria into confusion. I want to be dysphoric and confused, it makes me wet. I'm not a man. I'll never be a man. I never was a man. My vagina was made to take a penis and receive sperm.
Testosterone is bad for me. I don't need testosterone, my body naturally produces it's own hormones. My body naturally produces estrogen. When I rub my clit my estrogen levels rise. I feel feminine when I rub my clit. I can feel my estrogen levels rising everytime I rub my clit. It feels so good to be feminine.
💕 I hope this helps other girls. Daddy has been teaching me a lot of very important things. 💕
god i love ftmgirls with huge tits. big fat tits that don’t even fit in their hands. tits that are the focal point of their appearance even when they try to bind because they’re too big to ignore. ftmgirls with big tits who can’t resist groping themselves while they masturbate because it feels so good to have their tits fondled. ftmgirls who want someone to squeeze them and slap them around during sex. even better if they have big birthing hips to match.
So your Owner has enrolled you in Fakeboy Academy, congrats! We have the best cum-riculum to put you on the track to becoming the best, girly fuckslut you were always meant to be.
Your Owner has the option to enroll you in any of your SLUT TRACKS to mold you into their personalized, perfect fuckdoll. Our SLUT TRACKS each offer their unique and wide range of cum-riculum!
BRAINDEAD BIMBO
Bimbos are taught to get as much plastic surgery as possible until they don't look human anymore.
Bimbos are graded based on how much CCs are in their tits.
All their classes play dumbification hypno files in the background
Their uniform is PINK SLUTWEAR: their nipples or engorged clitties must be exposed or they will face punishment
HUCOW HEFFER
Heffers are trained to be horny breeders, always to be pregnant.
Mandatory 2 hrs of breast pumping a day.
Estrogen supplements are put into all their food which will make their fat udders bulge and lactate.
Their uniform is COWPRINT bikinis: horns mandatory
CAMGIRL CUNT
Freeuse girls trained to always be in front of a camera, showing off their needy holes.
Holes are trained to be always wet and stretched. Mandatory dildo riding and sucking classes.
Their dorms and classes have a livestream going on 24/7 that is streaming them to the perviest of pornsites.
Their uniform is PORNWEAR: bright porn colors, collars, microbikinis, etc.
DITZY DRONE
Drones have no identity of their own, they are assimilated into our Fakeboy Alumnive-Mind where they become freeuse dolls or pimped out to an Owner.
24/7 hypno files for complete identity erasure
Their uniform is LATEX SUITS: as fakeboys progress, they put on more latex wear until they are in a hood.
MAGA MAID
Maids are taught to be the perfect housewives for their conservative husband/wife.
Mandatory house training: girls must learn to do housework naked and in heels.
24/7 Obedience hypno files play for these girls
Their uniform is 50S HOUSEWEAR...or whatever their Owner provides.
I wrote something so I hope you guys like it 🫣 it's not much but I can't stop imagining this scenario
// tw transphobia, christianity, fauxcest
You finally visit your small conservative hometown after so many years. Everyone still remembers you, still calls you by your deadname, misgendering you even though you look nothing like a girl anymore.
You meet up with your friends from high school, the people who were most supportive of your transition. They still try to call you by your preferred name and pronouns, but they sometimes slip, misgendering you as well.
They convince you to join them to a mass in church. You prefer never stepping foot into that church again, but you comply anyways.
Almost everyone in town is there, and during mass, you can't help but notice the priest looking at you frequently, smiling at you. You remember him. He was the one that convinced your parents how you've been led astray from God's path.
Next thing you know, he calls you up to the altar. Everyone turns to look at you. You want to run away, but you're too nervous to find out if there will be consequences to that.
One of your friends nudges you, insisting that you go. After a long moment of hesitation, you stand up and walk down the aisle.
The priest introduces you with your deadname, reminding everyone of who you used to be, the identity you've abandoned.
Panic rises as you listen, as you see the disappointed and angry faces that all watch you. You know you should run, but you're frozen with fear.
Then you hear him say that you must repent for your sins and be molded back into God's intended image for me. You feel him place his hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, as if expecting you to flee at any given moment.
A few of the men of the parish rises, approaching you, surrounding you, then putting their hands on you. Your own father is among them too. You start to struggle, protest, tell them to not touch you. They tell you it's for your own good as they restrain you and carry you away to the basement of the church.
They strip you, pulling and tearing away every strip of fabric that hides your poisoned, feminine body. Some of the men that you've known for all of your childhood insult you for how much you've neglected it. They express disgust with how hairy you are, how much more muscular you've gotten. They say they're glad you haven't gotten surgery yet, groping your chest as they do.
They strap you down onto a table and bring in a bucket of water, shaving cream, and enough razors for everyone. They begin the process of shaving you, starting with your limbs and your face. You struggle, getting many nicks and cuts on your skin from moving too much.
Your father is the one chosen to shave your pubic area. You dare not move, afraid of the pain of being cut there. He's gentle as he shaves you down, leaving you completely bare for him and all to see. You start crying, feeling humiliated from this treatment.
Finally, they wipe you down, leaving you smooth save for a few red lines of blood. One of the men say that you're ready. Ready for what?
They unstrap you from the table and carry you back upstairs. You struggle again. Do they plan to show you completely naked to everyone? Your screams and sobs echo as they bring you back to the altar.
You notice that there's less people now. All the children have been taken home and the adults that have remained are the ones that wish to witness you.
The priest begins a new sermon, one about setting you on the right path to salvation, and that everyone here wishes for you to be saved.
When one of my cute students uses “they/them” pronouns… so I chip away at her over the next few semesters and inevitably have her taking me bare… putting load after load in her womb so she really becomes “they/them”
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