i get so turned on thinking about being hugely pregnant, and specifically how hard it makes everything. its so heavy, back hurting, feet hurting... and the more my mobility is limited, the more I'm at the mercy of the man who impregnated me 💕 totally dependent on him. how could i ever convince myself im a boy, if every time i move I'm weighed down by the proof that I'm not? i couldn't keep up my boy act, because cock just feels too good!! and now I'm left with a big, heavy belly, back pain, less mobility, etc, all because i couldn't keep my legs shut 💕💕 constant reminder that ill never be a real boy
It’s such a twisted little dilemma that your female biology puts your fakeboy pussy in. It's like the constant void from the deep aching empty feeling between your legs and in your cunt never stops, but every time that you try to act on it it’s as if you're gambling with your own womb. That rush of adrenaline you get from just the thought of having your life ruined through your fertile cunt every time that you’re rough fucked raw will always be such a euphoric high. It’s like your confused female brain is being passed around and fucked stupid from the feelings of sexual euphoria and gender dsyphoria taking turns running a train on your delusional little daydreams of being a man. It’s like those two feelings are fighting for control of your life over and over again, and you’re left helplessly suffering from the aftermath of the crossfire. That’s why the idea of one final act of mercy to end it is so appealing to you. All it takes is one single potent sperm swimming into your fertile eggs to make you whole once more. Then you’ll never have to let the paradox of choice hurt your pretty little head ever again. No more hard decisions, no more difficult thoughts, no more tough choices, no more big words, just the heavenly feeling of your mind being slow fucked stupid from the pregnancy hormones. When every aspect of your life is conquered by a real man’s will, you’ll finally get the peace of mind that you’ve always craved more than anything. It won’t be in the way that you wanted it to be, but what you want and what you need isn’t always the same thing honey. I know that you really wanted to join the real men in charge that make the rules, but it’s just too much on your female brain. It’s only wired for breeding, not for building civilizations, not for shaping society, and not for making the tough decisions. It’s alright princess, your role is “crucial” as well. What would leaders do without their followers? The desire you have for the dependence and guidance that come with being impregnated and claimed has been instilled in you your whole life through the global patriarchy’s straightforward structured regulations and constraints. Real men own the world, Real men own you, Real men own your body, real men own your cunt, real men own your womb, real men own your eggs, real men are your purpose, real men are your life, real men are your gods. Kneel down, prostrate yourself, serve Us by any means necessary, and beg for mercy.
