BDSM PRACTICING TRANSSEXUAL OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN. FUTURE OWNER OF A PUSSY YOU CAN'T FUCK. LIKE IF A DOG WAS A SUBMISSIVE SLUT. A LITTLE GIRL SOMETIMES. A DYKE SOMETIMES. A BOY KISSER MUCH OF THE TIME. PART TIME BOY.
IF YOU CANT HANDLE ME AT MY CRYING WHILE YOUR FUCK ME YOU DONT DESERVE ME AT MY BARKING WHILE I FUCK YOU.
I'm elsewhere for more content/services/tipping//otherwise spoiling me. I post my uncensored nudes free for followers of my f*nsly.
Oh forgot blanket cw for the following:
Petplay, CNC, rape kink, blood, piss, bodily fluids in general, confusing gender, fauxcest, ageplay.
Your mentality is going to get us fucking killed. Do you honestly think declaring to the people willing to KILL us that we're degenerates who are going to cause the collapse of society will IN ANY WAY end well?
Repressing yourself will not get you killed less. They already labeled degenerates. Whether I say it or not this goes back to Nazi Germany (and further). Throughout history people like me - disabled - queer - transsexual have been labeled as degenerates and not fitting for society and at this point all I can choose is my own liberation and to continue to embody these characteristics that are deemed a threat to fascism. They already want to suppress and kill us - I'm not going to comply in advance. If I go out I will go out creating and protecting my culture.
Frankly you seem like you don't have the balls to be a degenerate. Kill the little Nazi living in your head and maybe you can start to consider living out from under the fascist boot.
Get back to me on whether you still want to be seen as a threat to society after you're sent to a mental hospital. After your own brother calls the police on you. After people in your life assert the power they have over you and enforce the fact that they could get you sent to prison or shot whenever they fucking want, if you ever so much as talk back to them in the wrong tone of voice.
Also even if reaffirming the belief that you're causing the decay of society is a good thing because you're destroying fascist society, you're still ultimately agreeing with the fascist theory of social degeneration, the idea that certain types of people are genetically inclined to decay society by making everyone else weak and stupid. YOU are the one with a little nazi in your head. You haven't been trying to defeat the fascists, you've been trying to replace the fascists. You can't destroy the concept of the master race by redefining who the master race is.
If you think I haven't faced consequences for being a transsexual sex worker then you are pretty self centered. Have fun being a cop about words, I'm gonna continue creating community and carving spaces for self expression.
Lemme know if harassing transsexuals on the internet makes them loosen the boot on your neck.
Your mentality is going to get us fucking killed. Do you honestly think declaring to the people willing to KILL us that we're degenerates who are going to cause the collapse of society will IN ANY WAY end well?
Repressing yourself will not get you killed less. They already labeled degenerates. Whether I say it or not this goes back to Nazi Germany (and further). Throughout history people like me - disabled - queer - transsexual have been labeled as degenerates and not fitting for society and at this point all I can choose is my own liberation and to continue to embody these characteristics that are deemed a threat to fascism. They already want to suppress and kill us - I'm not going to comply in advance. If I go out I will go out creating and protecting my culture.
Frankly you seem like you don't have the balls to be a degenerate. Kill the little Nazi living in your head and maybe you can start to consider living out from under the fascist boot.
I had never been raped by someone I loved. When I think about all my experiences with rape it's been men I didn't care about. Men who didn't care about me. Men who hurt me because they could. Because they wanted to and it was fun. Because it probably felt good to do. Much of it had been what I call normal rape. The kind where you tell him to stop but he's so close. Some of it has been the kind where they choke you till you pass out, the kind where you end up bruised and bloody.
All this is to say: I had never been raped by someone I loved until I was. Knowingly or not she prodded and stretched my boundaries. Didn't listen when I didn't want something. I was easy to manipulate because I loved her. It was hard not to fall for because she loved me. That's the hard part. I know she did. Not because she said it, but because she acted it out. We took care of each other and had so much history. We couldn't keep away from each other. She emotionally lashed out when sex didn't go her way. I think I've been left hurt in ways I am just beginning to comprehend.
I'll probably write more on this later. I think I have a lot to get out about this.
I love that lately when I sleep with my Daddy I dream about him touching me in my sleep. questioning he's really doing it has me waking up wet whenever I sleep on his bed 🫠
My boyfriend fingered my pussy while I was asleep and recorded it on video so when I opened up my phone this morning there were just several videos of me being fingered and I’ve zero memory of it. My pussy got so wet the second I saw the videos.
can’t fucking stop fantasizing about daddy sharing me with friends and they all talk about me like i’m not even there and humiliate me until they’re satisfied
they wud be all like “awww look, poor kid is gonna cum again!” and talk about how docile and tight i am and how they hope to raise their own just like me
spread on dad's lap, your favourite cartoon faint in the background, shirt riding up and waistband stretched over his knuckles. two fingers sliding in and out of your special place, slick and hot, a pair of fingers twisting your nipple, thighs supporting all your weight and keeping you steady through your squirms. eyes clenched shut and nothing reaches you but the overwhelming feeling of it, just you and him in your little universe, your nipple released and the same thumb pressing past your lips, the familiar comfort of something to hold on to there. fingers stretch you out inside and it's too much, it's too much dad, he grunts and keeps twisting you like his puppet. the sound of something streaming, wet, warm, drenching his hand in your shorts. he sighs with familiar satisfaction and you cry, feeling dirty, feeling gross, feeling safe with your hands around his arms.
I think it was bad actually for Morpheus to try to wake up Neo. He should’ve let Neo figure it out on his own, really none of Morpheus’s business. It’s kind of problematic to make jokes about waking up from the Matrix, it pressures Matrix-aware men to wake up when maybe they don’t want to.
Really weird having people hem and haw over the hypothetical ethics of hypothetical egg cracking when, like, I very likely wouldn't be alive on the world if I hadn't been asked "do you think you might be trans?"
Motherfucker i wish someone called me an egg. If i went back in time I'd grab my scrawny shoulders and yell YOU ARE A WOMAN!!! START GAINING WEIGHT AND BUY A SKIRT yknow? I dont see what "benefit" people(transphobes) think it will have for some dysphoric teen on the brink of suicide, who doesnt know that transitioning is what she needs, to just... wait, until they "figure it out themselves" which might result in them dying
thinking about filming a scene with a sadist - something brutal, where i'm beaten and bruised and yanked around by my hair - for a friend of mine to watch and get off to. i know what he likes so i can script it for his specific kinks, making sure he gets to see me being punched in the stomach, choked until i stop struggling, raped with no regard for my safety. how hot it would be to have that awareness the whole time that not only is someone i know and love going to watch me be violated, but he's going to love it? that my pain only exists to make him hard?
my best friend and i are stoned in his basement, my legs draped over his lap as we pass the joint back and forth, blowing smoke in each other's faces and giggling at the movie when we bother to pay any attention to it at all. neither of us hears the sound of the lock clicking open upstairs, or the creaking floorboard in the hall, or even the basement door closing behind the invader. we don't realize there's someone else in the house until you're holding a gun to the back of my head, ordering us both to stand up and move slowly if we don't want to die.
you're wearing a ski mask and leather gloves. you pull a folding chair from the stack against the wall and a roll of duct tape from your pocket and order me to tape my friend's wrists behind his back, his torso and ankles to the chair. we look at each other, both terrified, but you've got a gun; i have no choice but to comply. when i'm finished, you gesture for me to step aside and slip a knotted bandana between his teeth, tying it tightly behind his head.
"get on your knees."
when i hesitate to obey, you punch me in the stomach. the force of the blow doubles me over, wheezing in pain, and a gloved hand on my shoulder forces me down to the ground. there are already tears in my eyes when you grab my chin and force me to look up at you, but the sadistic pleasure in your eyes draws a choked-off sob out of me.
"no, please," i whimper, casting around frantically in my mind for some way i might be able to avoid what i know is coming.
"yes."
you holster the gun in the back of your waistband and grab the duct tape, guiding me to hold my forearms together behind my back before taping them firmly and thoroughly. i can't help but cry, and i can hear my friend's muffled attempts at protest get louder when you grab me by the hair and shove my face into your crotch.
"if you even think about biting me, i'll blow your buddy's brains out."
it's all the warning you give me before letting go of my hair to shove a thumb between my lips - on my knees with my arms restrained the way they are, i can't pull away without risking losing my balance, so when your free hand gets your fly open my face is only inches away. closing my eyes doesn't stop me from gagging when you put your thumb on the back of my tongue, and that action gives you the opening you wanted to force your cock into my mouth.
it takes a moment for you to settle on a place to put your hands but eventually they come to cradle both sides of my head, holding me like a fleshlight, making me gag every time your cockhead hits the back of my throat. i'm sobbing, tears and snot and saliva running down my face and neck, onto my shirt, and all i can focus on is trying to keep my teeth out of your way. i don't know how long it goes on, just that when you pull out and step back, i immediately fall face-first into the floor, coughing and sputtering as i try to catch my breath.
"fuck, you look good like that."
as much as i know you're mocking me, there's something in your tone that sounds genuine too. not that i can appreciate the compliment, since while i'm still struggling to lift my face off the floor, you put a boot on my cheek to hold me there.
"stay down, whore."
my whole body shakes violently under you, and the boot soon lifts off my head only to land toe-first in my side, just below my ribs. the blow is hard enough to send me tumbling back away from you, landing halfway on my bound arms at my best friend's feet howling in pain.
"pathetic. you should--" you stop short, suddenly staring intently just above me, at my friend.
"oh my god, look at you. do they know?"
he shakes his head frantically, fighting to speak around the gag but managing only indistinct sounds of protest, and you laugh. it's loud and long and cruel, and it scares me enough to make me twist back to look at him.
"turns out your little buddy here is a first class pervert."
i want to tell you no, that it's not true, but the proof is right in front of us: he's fully hard, tenting his sweats, and the distress in his expression doesn't completely hide the guilt that's there too. the tears start flowing again, and i press my forehead into his calf to avoid looking back at you as you gloat behind me.
"got hard watching his best friend get facefucked. you want some of this, bro? cuz i can share, just say the word."
when you reach for me again i lash out with a vicious kick aimed at your shin. you dodge the blow, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of my hair and drag me back to the center of the floor by it, my struggling only serving to yank and tear at my scalp even harder. i'm thrown back down, and this time your boot finds its way between my legs, dragging my hips up to put me on display for both you and my best friend. the shorts i'm wearing are loose enough that they don't hide anything, and you only bother pulling them down to my knees before a leather covered palm makes contact with my ass.
smack. sob. smack. cry. smack. sob. you spank me until my cheeks are burning red and striped with welts where you took off one glove to whip me with it. just when i think i might pass out from the pain, your still-gloved hand slips between my thighs to trace my pussy, coming away wet with slick.
"look at that, you're both freaks. wet from a spanking, really? whore."
i can only cry harder as you shove two fingers into my cunt, pumping them in and out with a loud squelch. your bare hand grips my hip, and my abused skin can feel the heat of your hips before they make contact. i can feel you pulling your fingers out, lubing yourself up, pressing the head of your cock to my clit just to see me twitch and try to wriggle away. then in one quick movement you've lined yourself up, and i scream when you shove yourself all the way in with a single hard thrust.
you rape me like an animal, a hand on the back of my head forcing my face against the carpet and giving me rugburn with every brutal thrust. after the first few, the pain and humiliation and horror send me into a dissociative state, still crying but blank behind the eyes, and that must do it for you because you fuck into me even harder afterward. i don't know how long it goes on before you finally tense up, jerking to a halt and spilling your cum pressed up against my cervix; i only know that i choke on my own saliva at the awful pain when you pull out.
"damn, you took that like a champ. didn't they do great?"
i barely register that you're talking to my bestie, curled in a miserable heap on the floor, until you grab me by the hair again and drag me over to him. you'd told me to tape his ankles separately at the start so it's easy enough for you to manhandle me into position between his knees, and before i can think about trying to pull away i feel the barrel of the gun against the base of my skull again.
"behave."
you let go of me to do something else, but i'm too afraid to move. after a moment, i hear a familiar cough and see the bandana gag fall to the floor, and then your hands are in front of my face pulling my best friend's pants down and i can't pretend this isn't happening because his cock is purple-red and leaking, right there, obviously achingly aroused.
"please..." his voice is strained, throat probably hoarse from his earlier attempts to yell through the gag. "please, haven't you done enough? just leave us alone!"
"come on, you don't have to pretend with me. in fact, i'm not going to let you - you wanna fuck them so bad? beg me for it. ask my permission, and once i've watched you follow through, i'll go. you get what you want, i get what i want, and all this will be over."
i can't look at him, but i can hear his breath hitch, can feel the gun at the back of my head, can smell the hot musky scent of his dick mere inches from my nose. there's a long moment of silence, and then...
"please."
"please what?"
"please... please, let me have them..." he sounds desperate but hesitant, still trying to protect me, and you recognize it instantly.
"nope, not good enough." the gun cocks, and his sharp inhale makes you laugh. "tell me what you're gonna do with 'em."
"g-gonna fuck them."
"no." your fingers close in my hair again and yank me to my feet, using your pistol to pull my shorts to the ground and tap my ankles to make me step out of them. then you herd me forward to straddle his lap, hooking an arm around my neck as you lower me onto his cock.
"you're gonna rape them, and you're gonna tell us both how much you love doing it."
-the whole pussy out
-a jockstrap/fundoshi that barely manages to cover anything
-a shirt tucked in under the belly
-cutoff shorts/daisy dukes
-crop tops
