Your college roommate needs to be educated on trans issues 😤
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@ftmtffreeusetranspussy
Your college roommate needs to be educated on trans issues 😤
hi…. i’m a 23 year old lesbian and i’ve been described as something of a feminazi, and a proud man hater. every time i get horny though…. i get off to imagining a man bending me over his knee and thoroughly humiliating me and teaching my place. i’m getting wet reading your posts and was wondering what you’d do with me if you saw me in public and found out i was reading your blog at that moment 😵💫
I imagine seeing you at the library, in those non-fiction aisles nobody goes to, scrolling and getting wet. You barely notice when I walk by, assuming I am browsing the titles.
From the way you dress, I can tell you're one of those lesbians. Unshaved body hair, no makeup. Your outfit is as butch as it gets. The intention is probably to attract women and repel men, but you don't know enough about men to understand that we only care about what's between your legs.
As soon as I see my blog on your phone, I'm practically drooling at this perfect opportunity to take the bait. Quick as a snake, I snatch your phone out of your hand and hold it up high while reading it aloud.
"Let me see which ones you liked: being fucked on your college degree, having MAGA cock in your gold star pussy. And oh, let's see what your bio says: 'Fuck cis straight men. Proud gold star lesbian'."
I look down at you jumping up and struggling to reach your phone. Your face beet red and you're practically punching my body, trying to get me to budge. You're so close that my semi-hard dick is brushing close to your crotch every time you lean towards me to make a grab.
"Shut- shut up!" You force-whisper in the dead quiet library. Our breaths intermingle in the space between us.
"Is this a challenge? For you to fuck cis straight men? To lose your gold star to me?"
I grab your face in my other hand and make you look in my eyes.
"You need to be taught how to be a good girl." Without waiting for you to react, I spin you around and lower you until you're stomach-down over my knee, your bare ass up while my cock is throbbing against your stomach. I nibble your ear and you could hear my growl.
You're so paralyzed with fear that you haven't tried to stop me from touching you. (At least, that's what you will tell yourself later when we're done.) Despite your bravado online, you've never truly encountered aggression from men before in your safe little queer spaces. My hand snakes down u to grab your pussy firmly. Your juices cover my palm and I rub it easily.
Slap. My hand cracks down and the pain sets in seconds after the shock, you cry out.
"Are you a good girl?" I ask. You clench your jaw.
Slap. The sound seems to reverberate off the shelves and come back to assault your ears. The heat and the sting of it radiating deep within you.
"Are you a good girl?" You whimper.
Slap. Is it you who moaned? The heat seems to have traveled and settled between your legs.
"Yes! Yes, please... please I can't..." You can't believe what's happening, but somehow you're rubbing your thighs together as your clit wakes up for the first time in her life.
I whisper in your ear, "I live to fix girls like you with my cock. You're not the first 'butch' I've caught getting wet for straight guys you pretend to hate."
Your legs are shaking as I slowly trace the shape of your slit and the tiny bump of your clitoris. The most private parts of your body exposed to the world and under the grip of my hand.
I take advantage of your arousal and strip both of us. You put up a fight but I'm so much stronger that all you end up doing is ripping your bra and underwear as you flail. I push you to the carpeted floor, pin your hands above your head, and spread your legs open with my knees. For the first time ever, you feel a man's cock kissing the entrance to your lesbian pussy. It creates a heat like no other in your while you gush, making my slight gyrations so much easier and I slip around until I'm alternating rubbing against your entrance and your engorged clitoris.
"Do you want my conservative cock in your gold star pussy? Do you want me to take it away?" I push a little so you can feel the subtle stretch. Your vagina tasting the precum of a penis for the first time.
You close your eyes and turn your face away. It's your darkest fantasy and it's your deepest shame. Alone in the library, across from the greatest feminist authors of the past century, the foundation of decades of women's suffrage seems to be as hollow as the emptiness you feel inside. Your delicious lips trembling until your beliefs get buried underneath the mountain of your shame.
The word pours from you like hot lava, "...please"
"Look at me."
I wait until your teary eyes meet mine before I thrust my conservative cock hard into you. You wish it hurt more, but I ram inside you easily with the help of your arousal, just as nature has designed. You're too ashamed to admit loving penetration, even from a dildo, but this is another sensation entirely. Firm but slightly yielding to the shape of your pussy, my cock throbs deep inside you. My hairy balls rest against your labia. A fullness that completes you more than you've ever known.
Most unexpected is the feeling of having a man on top of you. It's at once feeling like you're being taken and being taken care of. Your entire world is my weight on your smaller body, my hard pecs against your soft tits, and the heat of my body warming you up in a pleasant sensation. Having struggled earlier and knowing I'm much, much stronger, you have settled into a comfortable position with far less guilt. Your legs are spread open and around me, while your hands are gripping my muscular arms, feeling the rigid shape of my triceps, while pretending you might push me away at any second.
I fuck you like I want to pound you into the lower floor. My balls slapping against you. It's like you're being split open from your crotch and you can't stop opening wider. Every time my pubic bone brushes against your clit, you grind back with more enthusiasm than before.
Sex with women is a game of "equality" where you try to make each other feel good and get off. Sex, as God has intended, has connected you intimately with me. You can feel your vagina gripping my cock and making me moan. You hate that you are seeing me as a person, hate that we're connected. Hate that I don't share any values with you but this single physical act is bonding us in ways that a woman wouldn't ever be able to bond with you.
You tell yourself you're not attracted to my body, but you've never felt more feminine in your life. It's never felt right to be a woman until now, until you're finally embodying femininity in full. Your tears fall as the heat builds and you start putting your arms around me, holding on as you maintain a barely tenuous grasp to your identity.
Being fucked feels so, so good.
A man's cock is inside you.
A man is fucking you.
Fucking you with his big fat conservative cock. De-valuing you as a woman, as a person, until you're nothing but this hole between your legs. Until all your worth is this, laying on your back on the floor of a public place, being used.
And it feels so fucking good. To receive the pounding and not think about anything else but feeling the pleasure course through your body.
A woman wouldn't be able to change your life like I do. The bare friction between us so delicious that you had forgotten that heterosexual sex comes with different risks.
Until I groan and bite the nape of your neck while picking up the pace of my thrusts.
"No, no. Please. Please, I have a girlfriend at home. Please don-" You beg frantically, your voice growing louder with each word.
"Fuck!" I howl and slam my cock into you, so deep and hard that you can feel it in your stomach. "Fuck I'm gonna breed your dyke pussy!"
A man is breeding you.
The spark that has been growing inside you is superheated as you feel the jets of my warm cum hitting inside you, filling you up with my babymaking sperm for the first time ever.
The creampie is still leaking from your pussy even after I've dressed and walked away, leaving you with a kiss and my phone number. Your phone lay forgotten beside you, a picture of your creamy pussy on it.
If I ever run into you in real life, anon. You'll be marked as mine forever.
I just came so hard to that... And it's so embarrassing but i can't do anything that just share it with others >///<
I'm so horny and desperate, transphobes and chasers and cis het men please please please slide into my dms or send me asks
A woman’s place in the world is beneath a man with his cock in her mouth. Reblog if you agree.
It happens one week at a time. You meet me at work. We hang out a little bit outside of it. Eventually, you come over to my place. I don't rape you right away - that's not the point of this, at all. I'm not in it for the easy pussy - although "boys" like you do have easy pussy. Instead, I get a picture of you wearing your work shirt, with a joint in your hands. We're just hanging out, and you don't even think about the blackmail potential. It would make the company look bad if I published it, wouldn't it? From then on, I start "jokingly" blackmailing you. It starts genuinely as a joke, where I mention the photo and threaten playfully to send it to our manager if you chicken out of another shot with me.
And then it becomes less joking when you try to back out and I get a little more serious, and maybe you take two more shots than you mean to. I collect photos and videos of you doing embarrassing things, extremely drunk or high, and at some point, the threat becomes to send them to other people you care about, not our manager.
Then, one day I tell you that I want you to take off your shirt and binder. You refuse, and I do send our manager just enough to get you fired. But that's just the threat, I say you'll never work again if you don't do what I told you, because I'll post publicly.
So you give me the tit photo I want. And now, because you've been fired, you're reliant on me. I "generously" take you in, and things spiral fast. You're modelling nude for me daily, because otherwise I'll kick you out. One time, you get an interview, but I send them your nudes and they don't hire you.
I make you call yourself a girl. You get progressively further from recently having a job, and the interviews dry up more and more, and now I'm making you suck my cock if you don't want to be out on the streets. I destroy your binders, and you can't do anything about it.
I start inviting my friends over for you to blow. I take away your T. I start fucking your cunt and demanding you cook. You're totally powerless, absolutely reliant on me.
A year after I started the new job, you're my unemployed, pregnant house"wife", although perhaps that's too generous, as a wife, at least, one theoretically likes. You do whatever I tell you to whoever I want.
The worst part is...
You might even like it?
tonight i’m thinking about how having a pussy is inherently kind of degrading.
there’s no way to prevent a man from sliding his cock or fingers into me. it doesn’t matter if i’m not wet, spit will do. after all, my pussy is literally a hole designed to easily receive.
i can’t do anything to someone else, but a man can spend however long he wants fucking me. he can cum inside me and permanently alter my body. i’m built for his pleasure.
even my orgasms are for his benefit. if i cum, i clench, and then my hole just feels better for him.
i’m not designed to be taken seriously. i’m not designed to be an equal. i’m designed to be fucked into submission and bred.
its not "bio-essentialism" its just the truth.
Girls, yes even "ftm" girls, bodies are literally built to take cocks, get impregnated, grow and give birth to babies. That's why you get that craving deep inside of your core, craving being penetrated. And every month when you ovulate you desire unprotected sex. You tell yourself its not because you want to get bred, but you do. Your going to get inseminated, its what you're literally built for. Gender identity or sexuality doesnt matter, its just your truth. Stop fighting and live your truth.
I grew up super sheltered, so I didn't touch myself until I was grown up and out of my parents house- I didn't have my first orgasm until I was in my 20s. But in high school, even though I was obviously a dyke, I had a boyfriend for a while, and a few times I let him play with my pussy a little (and a few times it happened whether I "let" him or not). He never actually pushed me over the edge, but a few times he kind of toyed with me, kept rubbing my clit past when I'd asked him to stop. It's been like 10 years or something, but I still get so wet for the idea of some poor girl being forced through her first ever orgasm by a man shes so afraid of, she can't even enjoy it. Your thoughts on this idea?
You should accept that men know your body more than your silly girl brain can handle. He knew that you needed this pleasure and was kind enough to let you experience it. You were too ungrateful at the time to appreciate it, but it sounds like you've matured and know to get wet at the thoughts of men manipulating your body to orgasm. Your consent is not important when a man is willing to pay attention to you and bring you out of your inexperience.
"Just the tip."
That’s what I like to call my favorite little game I play with shy, curious dykes. You know you shouldn’t let me fuck you raw. You only like girls, after all. You’re not on birth control. I’m too big for your tight virgin pussy. You can come up with whatever excuses you want. But now that we’ve gotten this far; now that your curiosity about men has finally gotten the better of you; now that you’ve finally caved and given in to that desperate craving for something warm and hard inside you; now that we’re both naked with my hard thick cock twitching inches away from your dripping cunt, your arousal is overpowering all of your inhibitions, and you know it’s far too late to go back.
So we reach this compromise. You allow me to fuck you, but no deeper than the tip of my cock. I agree, of course. I know exactly what’s going to happen, even if you still insist on pretending otherwise.
So I slide my tip inside you. I stretch you out, just a little bit. But there’s a problem. I can’t really fuck you like this, I say. I need to go a little deeper so that I have enough room to thrust without my dick falling out each time. You agree, but only just a little bit, just enough for me to have enough room to slide in and out. It makes sense, after all. It’ll feel so much better for both of us that way.
And then I start to thrust, just barely past the tip, as agreed upon. Only now, with the added pleasure, you’re even more aroused, and your pussy starts to open wider for me. Your body wants to feel more of me, even if your mind is still holding out. Those arms of yours wrapped around my back aren’t just resting there any more, they’re starting to pull me in automatically, little by little, deeper and deeper with each thrust. Do you notice my cock starting to press inside you further? Do you realize what’s happening? You’re certainly not complaining. All I can hear is your whimpers and moans, begging me to keep going. So we continue like that, me stretching you out bit by bit as your wet cunt pulls me in.
And then, inevitably, you slip up. Maybe you wrap your legs around me instinctively, maybe you pull me in just a little too hard, or maybe, in the throes of passion, you let out a “Deeper…” without realizing it, and I oblige you. Either way, your soaking wet pussy is all too eager to accept me, and all of a sudden, there’s a lot more dick inside you right now than there was a moment ago. My thick cock is buried inside you all the way to the hilt.
And then you freeze for a moment, as your eyes go wide and you realize that you’ve broken our little agreement. I love watching the gears in your head turn as you try to decide what to do next. It’s all so predictable. “Well,” you think, “we weren’t supposed to, but we’ve gone this far, what’s the harm in continuing? Especially when it feels so good…”
You could ask me to pull out. We could stop here, and go our separate ways. But that gnawing curiosity inside you would remain unsatisfied. Just a taste isn’t enough for you anymore. You need more. So you ask me to keep going. I happily obey. Now the full length of my cock is plunging in and out of you with each thrust, stretching you out, pushing against pleasurable parts in you that you didn’t know existed. And this time, I’m enjoying myself too.
I’m using your pussy for exactly what it was made for, pleasuring myself with your cunt as I pin your legs down to your sides and hold you down against the mattress with my weight. Maybe you feel a momentary pang of regret; maybe a brief thought of “we weren’t supposed to go this far…” flashes through your mind, but it fades in an instant as the tip of my cock bumps against your back walls. It feels too good, it feels natural, it feels right. And you can feel yourself getting close. You’re going to cum. You’re going to cum with a man’s cock deep inside you.
But I’ve been waiting for this moment. I’ve been timing my thrusts, riding the edge of my own orgasm, until I can tell you’re at the point of no return. I start to grunt as I thrust into you forcefully, and groan out that I’m going to cum. But you’re so close yourself, if I were to pull out now, you’d lose it. All that slow buildup, all that arousal would go to waste. So you clutch at me involuntarily, wrap your legs around my hips, buck and writhe as your body tries its hardest to coax the orgasm out of me. Maybe you even let out a moan. Maybe a whimper slips out: “Please cum inside me.” Did I really just say that? you think, but it’s far too late to do anything about it now. You cum, and so do I.
I plunge into you, balls deep, and I unload inside you, shooting rope after rope of hot cum splashing against your cervix. Your cunt contracts along my cock as it throbs and pulses, milking out every last drop into your eager womb.
And as we catch our breaths, and the high of your orgasm starts to fade, it hits you. Oops. That wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to stay strong. But now there’s a man’s cock inside you, twitching and softening as my cum dribbles out of your stretched-out pussy. You should feel guilty, or ashamed, but you don’t. Instead, you feel a tinge of embarrassment. You’ve been calling yourself a lesbian all this time, but now your body’s given the game away. You’re hooked, and you’re going to keep coming back for more.
You girls seem to like imagining MAGA men as dumb or uneducated. Until you meet a real, superior man who embodies all the values you hate.
Masculine, smart, strong, and superior. You're intimidated by my physicality beside your female body, so you try to talk as if you're smarter.
It doesn't work on me. Your arguments always center around "what should be", but completely miss the reality of my raw power over you. I am superior because I can overpower and penetrate your vagina with my penis. I can change your life in a minute based on the complete difference in our biology.
Your arguments do not have a basis in reality. Your feminism exists in a vacuum outside of the natural world. It's all theoretical. My arguments are grounded in physics. Grounded against your crotch as I move my body between your spread legs.
If you're so smart, why are you getting wet? Physical reality trumps imaginary argument every time, doesn't it?
Home Again (Part 1)
Tw: political play, misogyny, in c3st, CNC, detrans, gangbang
This is a story about giving in. Remember that enjoying a kink didn't make you a traitor to any beliefs. If being horny is what you need to face the world every day, this is for you.
Your family used to simply sneer at your queerness, but since the election, it's gotten so much worse.
They're Trump supporters through and through. They have the red hats, the big flags, the truck decals, and the stupid crypto coins. The county you grew up in was always Republican to its core. You had escaped when you got a scholarship to an out-of-state college. While you've been exploring your sexuality and gender in the past 5 years, you've looked down at their ignorance and tuned out their talks during the rare holiday visits.
But your new urban life came to an end when you got laid off in the recent economic turmoil. Despite desperate job applications and plenty of couch surfing, your savings and favors have dwindled completely and your only choice is to move home.
Back to the conservative town, surrounded by your MAGA dad and brothers every day.
You pick up the domestic chores as you have no money to pay rent or good. It was a relief when they basically ignored you for the first week as they were wrapping up a big reno project for a local church. But they started hanging out at home a lot more after that. Your brothers, twins in their late 20s, would hang out on the couch gaming in their boxers, their favorite MAGA hats hanging backwards. They'd always been athletic, but the years of trade work and gym time have bulked them up significantly.
You have never dated men, insisting on exploring your queerness. You tell yourself it's just curiosity as to why you're sneaking glances as you vacuum the house. Definitely not the sun reflecting off their muscular, hairy chests. Definitely not the barely visible hint of a cock head peaking under the loose boxers.
You're not attracted to men. You've decided long ago that you wouldn't be another cishet housewife trapped around people who saw her as lesser. Your mother had left, and you would do the same.
One of them slap you on the ass as you walk by. "Don't block the fucking screen!"
You kick him back but it has no effect on his beefy thighs. He simply laughed. "Can't believe you call yourself a man."
You push down the rage threatening to rise in you. Don't give them ammunition. They're stuck in their ways. You ignore the heat that rises from the handprint on your ass, a delicious tingling that reaches for your 6-month-dry-spell pussy.
You touch yourself shamefully that night, imagining men taking you, men with strong beefy bodies, musky from outdoors work. You cum with your hand on your little clit, your face in the pillow. Wordless moans drip into the night. You sound like a woman.
Your brothers like to horse around and they start messing with you more as they get bored sitting at home, waiting for the next job. It's usually physical. Pushing you around. Getting your shirt wet so you have to change. Pantsing you. Trapping you on the couch so you can't get up.
They were watching Fox News one day, talking about how trans rights should be stripped away so people don't mutilate their bodies. Ryan glances up when you get close, and quickly pulls you onto his lap with one hand.
With his other hand, he flicks over your nipples quickly, then grabs your chest. The dysphoria shocks you as you're brutally reminded of your female breasts underneath the loose tshirt. It seems that he never forgot they were a part of your body.
"Glad you didn't mutilate your body, sis."
You struggle against his grip but it is like an iron band. The groping insistent and slightly painful. How is he so strong?
Reese snakes his hands up your cotton shorts while pinning your kicking legs down with Ryan. His thumb touches your panties, rubbing the wet spot below your swollen clit. An electric jolt run through you and dissolve your courage to scream. His strong fingers dig into the folds of your vulva until you are humping his hand.
"Think we should make sure she still got all her woman parts?" Reese asks.
"Hell yeah. Gotta make sure our President's orders are followed." Ryan says.
They strip you easily. Four rough, strong hands all over your body. Your legs spread and your vagina presented to Reese's eager face as he kneels in front of you.
Your brother's tongue traces over your labia and plunges into the depth of your womanhood with practised ease. His mustache brushing your big juicy clit in a way that's making you buck involuntarily into his face. It is so much better than being eaten out by women.
Ryan pulls your shirt off despite your attempt to struggle. He clamps his mouth on your nipple and sucks so hard that you feel as if he wants your entire breast in his mouth. Reese moves up and takes your other nipple in his mouth. Their hot and hard bodies against your soft and small one.
You look down at these two men playing with these body parts that bring you shame. You should feel disgusted, they're your brothers! But this is the most attention you've ever had from a man, and it just feels.... so good. Like you are seen. Like nature restoring balance and you no longer need to struggle against an unseen current. You simply have to let them.
Reese's thick fingers force their way into your tight vagina.
"Still a virgin huh? We can fix that" he laughed.
"I'm not! I've been with plenty of girls! And stop that, just let me go" your protest weakly.
"You're a virgin in all the ways that matter. Don't worry, your big brothers will make you a real woman today. Maybe it'll stop your delusions." He pulls his boxers off while slapping away your kick attempts.
You feel a hot and heavy weight slapping against your tiny clit.
Fuck. It's huge.
Ryan is holding your legs open, your knees halfway up your body. Your womanhood spread open like a buffet for them. A woman's worth is just this for a MAGA man. You don't need a job, or even leave the house. Just a hole to be filled.
You look up at your brother, meeting his eyes, as his big MAGA cock finds its way into your tiny liberal pussy. He claims your virginity in one hard thrust and the pain is a fiery explosion inside you. You're mine now, his eyes say.
Reese kisses you roughly, and licks the side of your face, clearing the tears you didn't know were there.
"I love liberal tears" he whispers in your ear. You can only lay there, in a prime breeding position, with a conservative cock violating you, as you feel your identity stripped and abused.
You try to stop yourself from moaning, but a whimper escapes.
You look down as he picks up his thrusts, an insistent rhythm taking over. A squelching wet sound every time he pulls out, a flat slapping sound as his scrotum hit your ass.
He groans, enjoying the tightness of his sister's vagina, and reveling in his duty to give it to the woke liberals.
His thick MAGA cock is filling you in a way you didn't think possible. Something a dildo could never replicate. Together-ness with another human in the most intimate way.
Even if that person is your own brother.
Reese buries his head in the crook of your neck and fucks you harder. Your breasts are the flattest they've ever been underneath his big pecs. Your legs wrapped around his beefy thighs. Ryan hasn't needed to hold you down for a while.
Your body seems to know what to do as you push back against him, your clit brushing against his pubic bone with every thrust and pushing you deeper into the abyss.
He picks up his pace and you can hear his breath quickening.
He doesn't have a condom, and you're ovulating.
Your conservative brother is going to rape a baby inside you.
No. No. This can't be happening.
You gasp and struggle uselessly against him, even as you get more wet.
Reese's hard thrusts are shaking the couch.
You struggle now against the feeling rising from between your spread legs. The TV still playing Fox News in the background.
You're going to be taken and bred in this place you've tried to escape all your life. Your clit is on fire.
His incestuous cum is going to flood your womb.
Breed you.
He yells as he slams his cock as deep in you as he can, jerking his hips as he pins you down.
A warm sensation blossoms inside you. His sperm finding his way through your female reproductive system.
Your pussy clenches around his pulsating shaft.
Oh no. No. Please no.
You feel your dignity slipping away deeper into the abyss as the pleasure overtakes you.
As you become another MAGA slut.
As you cum hard on your brother's big MAGA cock. Milking him for his load. It's so good. It's better than safe sex with women. It's better than pretending you're a man, fucking with a strap on. It's your body giving you pleasure in exactly the way it was designed.
Reese groans as he feels you squeezing him. You've never had this kind of approval from your family and it's keeping you drunk on the orgasmic high.
When you're finally exhausted, you look up to find your brothers looking victorious atop you.
Ryan looks at you and smiles.
"My turn."
I think that's my favourite story out here...
First time I've ever talked about this one. I'm a trans guy, I got top surgery four years ago and I started T two years ago. I love being trans, I love being a man. I've been with plenty of women and trans guys before, and I've been with three cis men before. I topped all three of them. Don't get me wrong, it was great to see them turn into such whiny messes under me, but..
Idk. I'm a biology major and every time we talk about mating and sex cells and impregnation, I get ravenously horny to the point where I can't pay attention for the rest of class. We watched a video explaining the process of sperm fertilizing eggs and I soaked through my boxers. And now I can't stop imagining being the whiny mess.
I've always gotten this way about anatomical terms, but now that I've found the niche on Tumblr.. I can live however I want, do whatever I want to my body, I can even put on a strap and fuck submissive cis men, and I can enjoy it. But nothing gets me going like having my anatomy pointed out to me. Clitoris, labia, vagina, cervix, uterus. Female. The words drive me goddamn crazy. And, fuck, I don't think anything would really and truly satisfy me like having my pussy fucked and bred by a fat, throbbing cock.
It doesn't help that I have an insanely sensitive cervix. Like.. it really was meant to be pounded, huh? I want a huge manly breeder to wrap himself around me and force me into a mating press and tell me how males feel the urge to dominate females, how females will instinctually submit to them, while he penetrates my vagina with his penis. I wanna feel his hard cock split me open, just like nature intended, and abuse my sensitive cervix. And I wanna feel his penis flex and throb while he ejaculates, pressed against my cervix, releasing millions of sperm into my ovulating vagina. Bonus points if he whispers into my ear about how his seeds are probably seeking out and claiming my defenseless egg while he plugs me with his dick.
There's just some things you can't forget, aren't there?
You can get your mammaries removed, but you're still a mammal: built for internal fertilization, made to give birth to live young. You can inject male sex hormones, but you'll always be the female of the species - born full of eggs, releasing them one by one, with a natural rhythm of ovulation and menstruation that's meant to give way to a natural rhythm of conception and birth.
And sure: taking testosterone can interfere with that rhythm. It can quiet it, until you can almost imagine it's gone. But many, many females before you have learned that imagining it doesn't make it so.
No matter how many submissive men you find - men willing to play your little game with you - you'll always be reminded of two things. First, that no matter how pathetic they may be, you'll always have to be careful how you fuck them - or you'll find yourself full of hundreds of millions of sperm cells pushing past your cervix, and you'll be the one whimpering nine months later, as it starts to dilate. And second, that you're smaller and weaker than nearly every male. That you can only ever play this game with men putting on a false show of weakness, and you could be helplessly stuffed full by any man who chose to show you his strength.
When a man decides to take you while you're ovulating - to show you what decades of testosterone have done for him, and remind you of what nature intended for you - you know how it'll go, don't you? You've been so focused on it.
He'll push his penis into you, and even if you aren't willing, your body will respond. Your vulva will swell and grow pink. Your vagina will lubricate and lengthen.
He'll reach climax and ejaculate inside you - five or more pulses of semen, containing up to half a billion sperm. Your cervix will be ready for it: "soft, high, open, and wet".
The sperm will swim deep inside you within minutes, through your fallopian tubes, seeking your egg. When they find it - whether it's already there, or it arrives days later - they will penetrate it, pushing their way in until one breaks through the zona pellucida.
I could go on - but you know the rest, I think. The implantation, the division, the growth. The missed period, the morning sickness. The growing belly and widening hips. Your body adapting to its new role, reshaping itself to be a good host to his growing offspring.
It begins when a man penetrates you, whispering to you what his orgasm will do to you - but the rest is all within you. From the moment that the head of his penis pushes apart your labia, your body is hard at work, doing everything it can to ensure that the egg inside you becomes a newborn between your legs.
His sperm, your egg, your purpose. Just what a female was always meant to do.
The first time you experience being naked on your back with your legs spread open and a cock pumping in an out of your cunt, you will understand in an instant more than I could explain in a million paragraphs. When the man above you bottoms out, pressing his balls against you, and pumping his sperm into your stretched cocksleeve, you will feel it innately that this is what you were born for. Good girls react to this realization with feelings of bliss, but more stubborn cunts can be trained or broken into submission over time too.
Should I go buy some panties to wear? I’ve only worn boxers for years now, but I’ve been debating about picking up a pair of cute panties to play in and see how they feel now…would it be a waste?
Why would it be a waste? They're still serving a purpose of protecting your genitals regardless of shape. Even better is that panties will conform exactly to the shape of your female genitalia perfectly. Imagining the soft cotton feel of the fabric gently clinging to your pussy lips, and creating a delightful friction while you walk. Your vulva and clit gently caressed by something that was made for your body.
I suspect you would not want to go back to boxers after.
Perhaps folks here can also recommend panties you could buy?
i’m a pre t transboy and i’m kind of really petite. It used to piss me off so much and i’ve tried everything to get beefier but it doesn’t work, the more i’m getting into this kink though the more i kinda wanna stay like this, all weak and little😵💫😵💫
It's certainly easy to attract real men as a petite girl, isn't it?
Because that's what they see at this point, you are biologically exactly the same as some of the most attractive cis women out there. You inspire men to want to protect and hold your small body, and feel your tight holes on their big cocks.
You should definitely take advantage of this and reconsider transitioning! Why mess up your body when you can having all the hot sex you want?
hi…. i’m a 23 year old lesbian and i’ve been described as something of a feminazi, and a proud man hater. every time i get horny though…. i get off to imagining a man bending me over his knee and thoroughly humiliating me and teaching my place. i’m getting wet reading your posts and was wondering what you’d do with me if you saw me in public and found out i was reading your blog at that moment 😵💫
I imagine seeing you at the library, in those non-fiction aisles nobody goes to, scrolling and getting wet. You barely notice when I walk by, assuming I am browsing the titles.
From the way you dress, I can tell you're one of those lesbians. Unshaved body hair, no makeup. Your outfit is as butch as it gets. The intention is probably to attract women and repel men, but you don't know enough about men to understand that we only care about what's between your legs.
As soon as I see my blog on your phone, I'm practically drooling at this perfect opportunity to take the bait. Quick as a snake, I snatch your phone out of your hand and hold it up high while reading it aloud.
"Let me see which ones you liked: being fucked on your college degree, having MAGA cock in your gold star pussy. And oh, let's see what your bio says: 'Fuck cis straight men. Proud gold star lesbian'."
I look down at you jumping up and struggling to reach your phone. Your face beet red and you're practically punching my body, trying to get me to budge. You're so close that my semi-hard dick is brushing close to your crotch every time you lean towards me to make a grab.
"Shut- shut up!" You force-whisper in the dead quiet library. Our breaths intermingle in the space between us.
"Is this a challenge? For you to fuck cis straight men? To lose your gold star to me?"
I grab your face in my other hand and make you look in my eyes.
"You need to be taught how to be a good girl." Without waiting for you to react, I spin you around and lower you until you're stomach-down over my knee, your bare ass up while my cock is throbbing against your stomach. I nibble your ear and you could hear my growl.
You're so paralyzed with fear that you haven't tried to stop me from touching you. (At least, that's what you will tell yourself later when we're done.) Despite your bravado online, you've never truly encountered aggression from men before in your safe little queer spaces. My hand snakes down u to grab your pussy firmly. Your juices cover my palm and I rub it easily.
Slap. My hand cracks down and the pain sets in seconds after the shock, you cry out.
"Are you a good girl?" I ask. You clench your jaw.
Slap. The sound seems to reverberate off the shelves and come back to assault your ears. The heat and the sting of it radiating deep within you.
"Are you a good girl?" You whimper.
Slap. Is it you who moaned? The heat seems to have traveled and settled between your legs.
"Yes! Yes, please... please I can't..." You can't believe what's happening, but somehow you're rubbing your thighs together as your clit wakes up for the first time in her life.
I whisper in your ear, "I live to fix girls like you with my cock. You're not the first 'butch' I've caught getting wet for straight guys you pretend to hate."
Your legs are shaking as I slowly trace the shape of your slit and the tiny bump of your clitoris. The most private parts of your body exposed to the world and under the grip of my hand.
I take advantage of your arousal and strip both of us. You put up a fight but I'm so much stronger that all you end up doing is ripping your bra and underwear as you flail. I push you to the carpeted floor, pin your hands above your head, and spread your legs open with my knees. For the first time ever, you feel a man's cock kissing the entrance to your lesbian pussy. It creates a heat like no other in your while you gush, making my slight gyrations so much easier and I slip around until I'm alternating rubbing against your entrance and your engorged clitoris.
"Do you want my conservative cock in your gold star pussy? Do you want me to take it away?" I push a little so you can feel the subtle stretch. Your vagina tasting the precum of a penis for the first time.
You close your eyes and turn your face away. It's your darkest fantasy and it's your deepest shame. Alone in the library, across from the greatest feminist authors of the past century, the foundation of decades of women's suffrage seems to be as hollow as the emptiness you feel inside. Your delicious lips trembling until your beliefs get buried underneath the mountain of your shame.
The word pours from you like hot lava, "...please"
"Look at me."
I wait until your teary eyes meet mine before I thrust my conservative cock hard into you. You wish it hurt more, but I ram inside you easily with the help of your arousal, just as nature has designed. You're too ashamed to admit loving penetration, even from a dildo, but this is another sensation entirely. Firm but slightly yielding to the shape of your pussy, my cock throbs deep inside you. My hairy balls rest against your labia. A fullness that completes you more than you've ever known.
Most unexpected is the feeling of having a man on top of you. It's at once feeling like you're being taken and being taken care of. Your entire world is my weight on your smaller body, my hard pecs against your soft tits, and the heat of my body warming you up in a pleasant sensation. Having struggled earlier and knowing I'm much, much stronger, you have settled into a comfortable position with far less guilt. Your legs are spread open and around me, while your hands are gripping my muscular arms, feeling the rigid shape of my triceps, while pretending you might push me away at any second.
I fuck you like I want to pound you into the lower floor. My balls slapping against you. It's like you're being split open from your crotch and you can't stop opening wider. Every time my pubic bone brushes against your clit, you grind back with more enthusiasm than before.
Sex with women is a game of "equality" where you try to make each other feel good and get off. Sex, as God has intended, has connected you intimately with me. You can feel your vagina gripping my cock and making me moan. You hate that you are seeing me as a person, hate that we're connected. Hate that I don't share any values with you but this single physical act is bonding us in ways that a woman wouldn't ever be able to bond with you.
You tell yourself you're not attracted to my body, but you've never felt more feminine in your life. It's never felt right to be a woman until now, until you're finally embodying femininity in full. Your tears fall as the heat builds and you start putting your arms around me, holding on as you maintain a barely tenuous grasp to your identity.
Being fucked feels so, so good.
A man's cock is inside you.
A man is fucking you.
Fucking you with his big fat conservative cock. De-valuing you as a woman, as a person, until you're nothing but this hole between your legs. Until all your worth is this, laying on your back on the floor of a public place, being used.
And it feels so fucking good. To receive the pounding and not think about anything else but feeling the pleasure course through your body.
A woman wouldn't be able to change your life like I do. The bare friction between us so delicious that you had forgotten that heterosexual sex comes with different risks.
Until I groan and bite the nape of your neck while picking up the pace of my thrusts.
"No, no. Please. Please, I have a girlfriend at home. Please don-" You beg frantically, your voice growing louder with each word.
"Fuck!" I howl and slam my cock into you, so deep and hard that you can feel it in your stomach. "Fuck I'm gonna breed your dyke pussy!"
A man is breeding you.
The spark that has been growing inside you is superheated as you feel the jets of my warm cum hitting inside you, filling you up with my babymaking sperm for the first time ever.
The creampie is still leaking from your pussy even after I've dressed and walked away, leaving you with a kiss and my phone number. Your phone lay forgotten beside you, a picture of your creamy pussy on it.
If I ever run into you in real life, anon. You'll be marked as mine forever.
they've been doing this since they were kids: the wrestling, the play-fighting, the constant physical tussles for dominance. it's always been a joke, a way to pass the time. but tonight, something is different.
they're older now, and the friendly scuffle on his living room rug feels heavier, more charged. she's stronger than she used to be, but he's still got her beat. in one smooth motion, he flips her over his knee.
"alright, alright, you win!"
she laughs, trying to squirm away. but his hand comes down hard on her dykecake, the sound echoing in the quiet room. it's not a playful pat. it's a real spank. she freezes, a shocked whimper escaping her lips.
he doesn't stop.
he spanks her again, and again, his big hand raining down on her soft, wobbly ass, turning it a bright, stinging red. "you still think you're in charge?" he growls, his voice low and rough.
his other hand slides around her body, roughly grabbing one of her soft dyke tits, squeezing it possessively through her thin t-shirt. she's not laughing anymore.
a strange heat is pooling in her gut, her body betraying her, her cunt getting wet with every stinging slap and possessive grope. he's not her friend anymore. he's a man, and she's a woman, and he's showing her exactly what that means.