I enjoy being lower than woman, I enjoy being grotesquely too great to be a man.
I am a man. Simple as that, but I am not a usual man. I know others find the fact that I’m transgender as disgusting, I know some feel that disgust mix with an odd attraction towards me, I know that attraction scares them into having their little stomachs churn.
I’ve had women flirt with me, women doing little gestures to catch my attention, a specific woman calling me disgusting, revolting, horrific ; but still ejaculating whilst I’m inside of her. I am lower than women, I see each one of all kind as those who should one day be served by a man to his fullest. I wish to do the same one day for my soulmate.
She kept me a secret. I know many transgender men want to be publically loved, I am the same ; but I also take massive pleasure in being something so grotesque that I must hide, like a modern day version of Frankenstein’s monster. A heterosexual woman, so frightened by her own attraction and ejaculation towards me having to cope with it by keeping it as silent as she can. I make her scared, I make her sick, I make her pleased. To hide her said pleasure, I can only violate her in the most disgusting of places.
A dirty alleyway, her sweat-stained bed with the plushes turned to face the other way, a bathroom stall, or wherever is most convenient to her.
I’m too great to be a full man. I am self-made, there are stitches on my body you’d see on a zombified creature who’s been risen from the dead ; the only distinction of difference is that I’m alive. I am better than a cisgender man, I fuck with the sole intention of making a girl happy, I live to serve, I serve in-order to pleasure. All my muscle, each bit of body hair, each inch of height was made by me and my hard work.
I’m the horrible fantasy you’ll never let go of. I hope you cry when you finish to me.

















