wake me up to my old girl clothes being burned. make me stuff my drawers with menâs boxers and dirty clothes while you force me to listen to how handsome i look while iâm angry
THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS!!!! It's made me feel so good to be called a boy it's made me feel so good to wear boxers and I liked being he/him'd by strangers it's sooo fucking good
You like to go out in your girl clothes as much as possible. It feels good to assert to the world your true gender. Being outside in dresses and skirts with so many eyes on you is exhilarating. Sometimes you get a little too excited, and have to take a break in a local bathroom or back alley. Itâs totally not just a fetish, you say to yourself. Itâs normal to get like that with gender euphoria. You have many excuses, but you know deep down how perverted this habit of yours really is.
Thatâs where you are now, hidden away and trying to calm your breathing, looking around to make sure no one is watching, reaching down into your skirtâŚ
âHey pal,â a manâs voice says, like heâs been waiting to ambush you. You startle and try to pretend you werenât up to anything unusual.
âWhat?â You bite.
âJust saying hi.â He smirks. Heâs older, with an expensive suit and sunglasses. âYou got a job?â
âYeah.â What kind of question is that?
âDoing what?â
âRetail.â
He chuckles. âReally? Thatâs no kinda job for such a handsome young man like yourself.â
You grimace, assuming heâs some kind of salesman, and try to walk away. He reaches into his belt and pulls out a revolver, just enough to show it to you and only you. You gasp as you see it, frozen in place.
âI wouldnât do that, if I were you.â The man grins. âI just want to help you, thatâs all. Iâm your friend, really.â
You donât believe him, and despite the gun you attempt to run, thinking if you scream someone will come and save you. He grabs you by the stomach and covers your face with a wet cloth before you can get out any kind of sound. Your cries for help are muffled into the rag as its smell overwhelms your senses, and you drift off into unconsciousness despite your efforts to stay awake.
âThere there,â he says in mock comfort. âJust relax. Itâll all be over soon.â
Your world fades away. When you wake up it feels like itâs been a long time, and thereâs a large gap in your memory. You canât remember any dreams and it barely feels like you slept at all, just that you lost time. When your awareness returns you jolt in panic as you realize you are in a bed, handcuffed to the bedframe. The handcuffs are solid metal, and your attempts to tug at them are worthless. Your clothes are gone, and instead youâre wearing⌠jeans? And a black t-shirt with a band logo on it? You sob as you realize youâre wearing boxers too. This man stripped you naked and stole your favorite feminine outfit, and now youâre dressed like some emo fuckboy. Haircut included, you realize. He cut all your hair off. This man did all that and is sitting right in front of you, in a chair pulled up next to the bed. The room around you is dark and bland, with just one window in the corner. He leans forward and looks at you. His sunglasses are gone now and he has nice brown eyes, a deep and kind shade. He looks like he could be a kind father or teacher, someone who wouldnât hurt a fly, or he would if it werenât for the unmistakable sadism in his eyes. He looks at you like a toy, a thing to poke and prod to make whatever sounds or noises he wants.
âAh, youâre awake,â he says.
âWhere am I?â You shout. âWho are you? Let me go, please! Do you have a phone I can use?â
You babble on until he clicks his tongue and pulls out a whip, slashing the bed with it right next to your arm as a threat. âLetâs get a few things straight. You will address me as âmasterâ or âsirâ and nothing else. Understand?â
You freeze and try to say no and he cracks the whip again. You nod.
âSay it.â
âYes, sir,â you squeak.
âWhatâs your name, boy?â He says, voice suddenly soft.
You open your mouth and start to say the name you ask people to call you, your girl name. He shakes his head. âYour real name. The one your parents gave you.â
You tell him your deadname, and he smiles. âWhat a nice name. Your real name. Iâll also address you as slut, boy, and fucktoy, and you will answer to those as well.â
âYes, sir,â you say.
âI am a gay man. I have no interest in women. When I look at you, I see a boy who doesnât yet know how to be a man. I am going to help you with that, and in exchange you will be my personal cocksleeve and do whatever I ask of you. Understand?â
âY-Yes, sir.â You have never been more scared in your life.
âOh shhhâŚâ He pets your leg. âThere there. Youâre doing great, and I know youâre gonna keep doing great. You just gotta trust me, okay? Here, look how much progress youâve made already.â He pulls out a mirror, and you gasp as you see yourself. All the hair you worked so long to grow is gone. You knew that he had cut it but actually seeing it is another story. You barely look feminine at all, and the new style specifically accentuates your most masculine features. It pushes you over the edge and you cry, mourning the girl you used to be, the girl you tried so hard to become.
Seeing the sight fills you with anger, and you try once more to be defiant. âNo, no. This is all wrong! I donât even like guys. Iâm a lesbian. You need to let me out of here, NOWââ
He cracks the whip again, this time right on your forearm. You scream in pain and whimper back into silence as he sneers. âLesbian? Seriously? You are a man, you are male. Lesbians are women.â
He unbuttons the jeans he gave you, pulling down both them and your boxers and revealing your soft cock. He grabs it with his huge rough hand and pinches the head. You try to push your mind away but you react to his touch, your legs twitch and your cock starts to stiffen. You cry in humiliation and moan all the same as you get hard under his touch.
âSo what youâre telling me,â he continues. âIs that youâre a straight boy. No problem. Youâll be my gay-for-pay slut. Thatâs what I need you for, buddy. When I saw you a couple months ago I knew you had the perfect face to be the star of any gay porno.â
âNo⌠Please, stop thatâŚâ He chuckles. Your whiny protests just sound like moans.
âOh yeah? Sure sounds like youâre enjoying yourself. Your cockâs certainly liking it.â He tightens his grip and keeps stroking you. âThatâs a studâs cock, nice and thick.â He licks his lips. âTheyâre gonna love this one, especially when itâs bouncing back and forth while your tight ass gets fucked.â
You try to shout that no you donât like that, you only like girls, you donât want to get fucked in the ass, but itâs worthless. Your body betrays you and cum all over his hand, dazed and head fuzzy at the thought of being his fucktoy.
âThere we go,â he purrs. âThatâs my boy.â
He brings you your dinner later, and makes you eat it without your hands like a dog. You do it eagerly and he pets your hair, letting you nuzzle into his hand and let out content hmmm sounds. After being so obedient he rewards you by taking your handcuffs off and letting you walk around, though the room you are in is still tightly locked. He leaves you for the night and you skitter around looking for an exit but itâs obvious there isnât one. The one window is out of reach and thereâs nothing else in the room except for your bed. You canât even manage to climb up and look out the window to see where you are. You are stuck here and completely at his mercy. At your masterâs mercy.
Your master returns the next morning with urgent news. âYou canât start your career just yet,â he says. âYou still need to be trained, and as part of that training there will be an⌠operation.â
âOperation?â Your voice is shaky.
âYou took that âmedicationâ for a long time.â The air quotes are heavy. âThose things you grew on your chest⌠Well, they can hardly be called âtits,â I mean look at them!â He chuckles and you cry. âThey gotta go. Just a little bit of fixing up, eh?â
You try to get angry, try to attack him, but he just holds you down and chastises you. You donât want your boobs gone! You spent so much time and money to grow them, and sure they look different from a cis girlâs but theyâre still cute⌠Thatâs not what he says though. He says theyâre aberrations. The result of a failed medical establishment who nearly chemically castrated a handsome young man all for their sick agenda. He tells you you wonât feel a thing and heâll pay for all of it, make sure youâre comfortable.
He spends the next few weeks training you. Making you do push-ups and get in shape. You struggle to do even a few exercises at a time with how out of shape you are, but he pushes you and shouts at you all the same. Youâre left sweaty and exhausted for the entire day each time. He controls your diet too, making you eat and drink the things he decides. Even that short of amount of time changes you. You feel yourself masculinize and get hairier, feel your body get leaner and ever so slightly more muscular. Whatever is in the food heâs giving you is changing your physique to his liking. His training is brutal and lasts all day. You learn his exercises and drills and learn to fight just like him. The routine is like a roller coaster hitting your weak effeminate body, but you push through. Whatever heâs feeding you is making you feel full of adrenaline and rage. He lets you fight him. Itâs never much of a fair fight, but by the time of your operation youâve managed to land a few hits on him and give him a bruise or two. You can only manage that while taking a beating yourself, but thatâs part of the fun, it makes you feel alive.
Of course when you lose thatâs when he claims you. He mostly just forces you on the ground and shoves his cock in your mouth. Itâs thick and makes you choke every time. One time you throw up all over it, and he makes you clean it up naked after. You learn to take it and swallow his cum but the salty slimy humiliation of it never lessens. He never leaves you unattended though, and always returns the favor with his hand on your cock. No matter how you disgusted you feel you always get a hard-on when he uses your mouth. He trains you to get on your knees on command, and stomps on your cock to get you hard when you do. Your body starts to react before it even happens, when you get on the ground and say, âYes, sir.â
He loves hearing that from you, your total obedience and submission. When the operation comes itâs swift and painless. He injects you with something and you go under, then are out just as fast. You are a man now, with a strong chin, short hair, and flat chest. It hurts as you mourn the change, and he is there to let you mourn. Your master lends you a shoulder to lay your head on and feel your pain. You train yourself not to cry though, even as itâs hard to prevent it sometimes with him so near. Still you control yourself and get rid of the impulse. You know you canât afford to feel that pain anymore.
Youâre knocked out in bed for a while and your master helps you recover. Heâs clearly obscenely rich or a mobster or something. You donât know but you see the resources he has at his disposal, the doctors he employs to see you. You recover swiftly, and feel any sort of womanhood or girlhood has left you. You are a man and you have been forged into solid steel.
Itâs then that your body has gotten hairy and manly enough for your masterâs tastes. Heâs been waiting to break you in and take your virginity. He wanted you to be a man, to be pleasing to his sights, and now you are.
You both undress each other. âYouâve never truly aroused me,â he says. âNot until now. I was just doing you a favor all those other times.â
You scoff, feeling ashamed at all the ways heâs violated you. Yet still seeing the contours of his body and the muscles his suit has covered up is intimate. Being so close to him is exciting. He holds you and touches you and admires all the ways youâve changed, and you let him, bask in it. Itâs easy to. You look like a Greek god, chiseled and forged into something magnificent.
âNow I see you,â he says.
âAnd now you wanna fuck me?â You say back. Your voice shocks you. Itâs the voice of a man, of a horny stud with a throbbing hard cock and thick hairy ass whoâs looking to fuck hard.
âNow I want to own you,â he hisses, and grasps his thick cock. He takes yours in hand as well, and presses them against each other, comparing them side by side. Heâs still bigger than you, but not by much. Youâve grown big time, thanks to your master. Heâs given you this chance to be a man. To have the perfect cock you deserve.
You grab his cock too, and stroke it. His hand encompasses both of your cocks, but you just want to feel him. You grasp the underside and feel his hardness, feel its warmth up against your own. It feels incredible, and soon your humping into his hand, desperate for more stimulation on your throbbing cock.
You bend over and arch your back for him. He prepares you slowly with his fingers and a generous amount of lube. Even still his cock is massive, and the pain as it goes in is overwhelming. Every bit of it is accompanied by pleasure, and the desire to be full of your masterâs cock. Itâs then that it slips out:
âDaddyâŚâ You moan, and then wince, expecting a reprimand.
Your master just chuckles and smiles. âYou can call me that as well, if you like. You are like a son to me, after all.â He says this as he pulls his cock out and rams it back in roughly. You want to scream but you hold it in and grit your teeth, turning it instead into a low man. The pain feels better and better and youâre a man, you know you can take it.
He fucks your ass hard and you take it like a champ. Every thrust pushes in deeper and deeper, and you can feel his balls slapping on your ass. Your cock is hard and twitching every time he fucks you. He hits your prostate and each time it goes straight to your cock. He reaches around to stroke your cock in time with his thrusts. His cock fits right inside you and you take it like a man, you cum from his touch like a beast with a primal sound of manly pleasure that tears through you and births you again anew.
You take his cum and howl, his body on top of yours and his breath in your ears. His deep and rough voice as he cums pleases your ears. You are full of your master and his cum, bound to him as the one who was the first to claim your tight ass. You donât know if you really are gay, if you even want to be a man, but it doesnât matter. Your cock throbs all the same, and any delusions of being a girl are gone, replaced by the base desire to fight, drink, and fuck.
After that your life rolls out ahead of you, as your master lets you out into the world. You get to star in loads and loads of gay porn. At first you could maybe call yourself a twink, but you keep getting hairier and manlier, and you have a brief twunk phase before becoming a full-on masc hunk. You have a hot bod and a throbbing cock and you do anything and everything. You fuck and get fucked and shoot big loads. Youâve got the type of cock that makes men jealous and everyone wants a taste.
Itâs a new type of life where you can live free and fuck any guy you want. All of that dumb girly phase of yours is gone and now youâre the gay fuckboy you were always meant to be. You get lost in the drugs and the drinks and the holes you fuck and embrace your new manly lifestyle. Still it helps to have your master, who still is the one man you will always lose to. He is the only one who can make you truly feel like a man, who in the late hours of the night can draw out load after load from your cock. Youâve even gotten to fuck him a few times, though tonight he has you on your back, spitting into your hole as he prepares to fuck you with his tongue.
He pushes in and gets your hole wet and sloppy. You can feel his tongue on your ass hair and it makes you shiver, makes you grind your ass up and beg for more. He opens you up and tastes the inside of your ass and it makes you moan and in your low and deep voice. Once he has you good and teased he he stands up and grasps his cock, readying to fuck deep inside of you.
âReady for my cock?â He grunts.
âSir yes sir,â you say, stern and obedient.
Your masterâs cock is just as big as always, but by now you have been trained to take it. Your hole responds, taking his cock eagerly and hugging it just as he wants. He knows the exact way to fuck you to make your cock throb and your manly voice come out.
âOh~ FuckâŚâ You grunt. âI love your thick cock, sir.â
âThatâs right. Your daddyâs little man arenât ya. My handsome boy.â He fucks you on your rooftop with the moon behind him. It illuminates his pecs and biceps perfectly as he thrusts his hips. He is a true specimen of a man, a hunk made of muscle, guts, and hard work. You are quite the man yourself but you know deep down youâll always be his boy.
You take your masterâs cock gladly and moan as you feel him pulse inside you. Once he pulls out though you are still hard and unsatisfied. You lay on top of him as he strokes your aching cock, letting you cum over his hairy legs. All you can smell is cum, sweat, and your masterâs musk. Your cock shoots out load after load of cum and itâs never felt better. You cum like a man and it feels so good. Whatever you were before you met him is gone. Now youâre just a thrill-chasing faggot looking for a quick buck and a good fuck. This is what it means to be a man, and now you finally know it.
btw everyone in your life knows youâre trans and they only gender you âcorrectlyâ because itâs social convention. you donât pass, and youâll never be stealth. we can all see through your act to who you really are
Reblog to cast Twink Death Beam on whoever you reblog this from.
If you wish to play, roll 1d6 when you are hit with Twink Death Beam and do what you will with the result:
Imagine yourself with 33% more severe male pattern baldness than your worst male ancestor had. Then imagine yourself getting sex as a man with that hairline.
Imagine gaining 100lbs. Then imagine adding 50lbs in what you consider the least-feminine locations, and a beautiful woman caressing them lustfully.
Imagine your bones have more growing and setting to do. Then imagine your ribs, shoulders, feet, or belly growing fast enough to destroy your favorite piece of female clothing while you wear it.
Imagine growing thicker body hair. Then imagine your least favorite kind of body hair, and an attractive woman watching, impressed, as yours triples in thickness and spreads.
Imagine the kind of girl you most relate to. Then imagine feeling relieved when she finally acknowledges your detransition and asks you to leave the feminine social group, then imagine feeling aroused when she cautiously says your attraction to women is 'getting creepy'.
Note 1-5 in order of least to most dysphoric to you. All of them happen in that order.
If you do not like the outcome, you may reroll. However, if you roll the same number again, the result will double and lock.
If an unrealistic scenario results from the use of relative numbers, you may instead imagine whatever you consider 'the worst' outcome along those lines.
A lil reminder to my "passing" "transfem" followers
Your "tits" are indestinguishable from gynecomastia.
Your "hair" doesn't make you look like a girl. It makes you look like a hippie.
Taking it up the ass shouldn't affirm your gender delusions. It just means you're a faggot.
Just because you look like a woman on a good day, just because you only got misgendered twice this week, just because your straight girlfriend says you "turned her lesbian":
None of it stops you from being a boy under all the makeup.
And when you lay down at night and feel the stubble on your chin, remember - that's who you really are. A man in a dress.
Reminder that as winter is approaching, you don't need to shave your legs.
No one will see them anyway and shaving is soo tedious and you'll have to do it over and over and over again, but if you grow out your leg hair, at some point it won't keep growing and it'll keep itself at a certain length with zero effort needed from you whatsoever.
I forget if I posted something like this before because I'm horny and braindead stupid, but I wanna be detransed against my will by a real trans man. Held down calmly no matter how much I kick, scream or beg, to give me my T shot right before he has his. Tied to a chair to cut my hair short if I've been good, or shave me bald if not. Forbidden from shaving or voice training as my voice drops wayyyyy down and thick body hair sprouts all over. But worst of all, just the T coursing through me like poison. He knows how awful dysphoria feels, and he knows I deserve it. He gets to feel comfortable in himself while I suffer hhhhhhh
"Trans people are all fake and should be forcibly detransed" vs "Trans people in general are real, but you specifically are fake and should be forcibly detransitioned"
"Detransition should be a miserable, torturous experience you'll never recover from" vs "You'll genuinely be happier, in a fluffy, wholesome way"
"You should detransition into a bearded breadwinner/childbearing tradwife" vs " you get to stay as a femboy/tomboy, just people know what you really are"
detransition with traditional gender roles is great, but for me, nothing's hotter than detransitioning into a flaming homosexual, being so in love with BEING a man that i'm even more in love with being kissed, groped, fucked and owned by men. i'm not some straight daddy dom, i'm a flaming boytoy for other men, and i've never been prouder to be the REAL me!
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
jbbartram-illu
areudirty
janainaart
germansingergirl
2087
annaxmalina
