Sometimes I wonder what the world would look like if pregnancy didn't necessarily result in making a person at the end. Say, for example, that there was some special supplement you needed in order to actually grow a baby - but without it, the placenta would still grow just as big as a baby would have.
There are so many girls who barely manage to stop themselves from getting fucked full - each one having to tell herself over and over that she has to be responsible, that she isn't ready to have a baby, that she doesn't have the money, or doesn't have the right partner, or needs to finish school, or or or... And all those excuses would go away. Girls, tell me: do you think you'd still be able to tell a man to pull out if the consequences were only pregnancy and birth?
And as for the men - well. A good man won't knock up just anyone because he cares about the life his children will have, and even a cad will worry about child support. If both of those were gone, what man would even think to do anything other than plant his seed?
Maybe most of all, though, it would change marriages. A man can only feed so many children, but without that constraint, who wouldn't keep his wife swelling over and over again? It would be a symbol of virility, and a sign that you'd kept her happy enough - or compliant enough - to give birth for you every year.
That isn't the world we live in - but it's not so very different, is it? If it weren't for the final consequence, the yearly cycle of a girl conceiving and birthing would be considered as commonplace as the monthly cycle of ovulating and menstruating.
Just another perfectly natural part of having a womb.
Thoughts on condoms and nipple fucking? Leavinfe about half a gallon of cum in each tit in a tied of condom un able to pull it out through your engorged nipple only being able to tug on it and cum your brains out whilst you produce more and more milk, untill the preasure causes the condoms to be luanched by the milky hydrants on your chest
Nipple fucking ask yayyyy!!!
And woagh... never considered that before. Telling some guy to use a condom so he doesn't dump all his cum into my tits and it won't bloat them out any further. Nipple getting fucked open and it's great and then the condom wasn't rolled all the way down so it comes off his cock when he pulled out of my nipple. He just ties the condom off and then he tugs it- I'm keening over the feeling of my nipple almost being forced open by the ridiculous wide circumstances of the cum ballon of a condom.
Him fucking my other nipple with a condom and purposefully sliding it off his cock as he pulls out. Leaving another bloated cum condom in my breast. My tits getting tighter because my breast milk isn't able to spill out. And the hornier I'm getting, the more milk I'm suddenly making. Tugging on the condoms only makes it worse.
Cumming myself dumb when my udders are nearly twice their size with backed up milk and the overfilled condoms get forced out of my nipples. Engorged nipples and fat areola getting spread wider than I've probably ever had them as the milk shoots them out; and I spray heavy thick streams of milk right out of my now even more engorged and sluttier nipples.
Nipples now suddenly trained enough to take cocks a lot bigger then they've ever taken before 💕
fakeboy who has been conditioned so perfectly well that she vocally, adamantly refuses to admit that she's a girl one moment and then she hears the bell and then in moments she's naked and spreading her pussy lips and showing off her oversized clit and saying how sorry she is for being so stupid, that of course she's a girl, and that her place is bouncing on your cock
Rubbing my pussy to the thought of a man raping me painfully. Him shoving his hard thick cock into my dry unprepared pussy in one thrust and raping violently. Me screaming and trying to crawl away as my pussy is stretched and torn but he just holds my hips and keeps raping me, moaning and grunting so I know how good raping me is making his cock feel. Ignoring my screams and pleading and begging because thrusting viciously into my tight unwilling pussy just feels too good. Hearing him groan loudly as his cock pulses hard in my rapehole and spurts cum deep inside me. Him continuing to rape me even after he cums because my cries make his cock throb. Him getting the angle just right and raping my cervix violently while I scream and he moans in ecstacy until he's cumming so hard against my cervix he sees stars. Leaving my pussy bleeding and raped open, hole dripping, and womb full of rape seed and pregnant
health ed class where im the shy girl at the back who blushes, embarrassed when the teacher announces we're doing sex ed in class today.
the first thing he asks for is a volunteer
i normally get picked on for these sorts of things - y'know - given im the one at the back of the class that always tucks her head into her book whenever she's noticed... i do my usual interested-in-book act and hope to go unnoticed.
it fails once again.
against my volunteering-want, i pick myself up - cheeks darkening as I feel the class' attention turn to me as my chair scrapes the floor, my heels dragging as i stand at the front and look across the classroom - seeing how many judgemental pairs of eyes stare at me - today's subject.
"Now that we have someone who has kindly volunteered - will you hop up onto the desk-"
I leaned back and let myself pull my bodyweight up so that I sat with my legs extending from the teacher's desk on the front
"-And pull your skirt up."
the words took a second to resonate before my eyebrows flew up in shock. "S-sorry?"
"Show the class your pussy," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "we're in a health class and you volunteering yourself - your body - so go on, show the class your pussy."
My throat dries and closes, face draining of colour and yet heating up simultaneously, legs crossing over each other defensively whilst my body seemingly freezes at the overwhelmingness of it all.
I can't talk - my throat hoarse from the shock of it all - and instead the best i can do is shake my head erratically, not willing to oblige. was he joking? was this some example of how if you don't wanna show your body to everyone you shouldn't send pictures?
what sick thing what going on?!
it wasn't a joke though - and seemingly bad was turning to worse at the teacher frowned. "well, you've already volunteered yourself, and if you don't comply with what i tell you to do then there will be consequences, miss."
my body remained frozen in place from the shock of it all. and looking across the classroom, all the other students seemed perfectly okay with what was going on - as if there were some universe where this was normal! And if not neutral to it - some of the body even seemed to have their interests piqued by the idea, leant forwards in their desks as though trying to get closer to the action.
the teacher noticed my lack of movement and took matters into his own hands.
"Jones! Up!"
I looked across the room as my bully - the one that antagonized me for all things stupid and trivial - stood up and came to the front of the class.
"I'm going to lift her skirt up and hold her body to keep her still - i want you to hold her thighs open and pull her panties off."
this time the words clicked faster, and I pushed myself off of my arms to get off of the table and not let myself get undressed in front of the whole class - yet my teacher was faster. his arm wrapped around my body and pulled my back into his chest, his other forearm grasping at the hem of my skirt before yanking it upwards and revealing the upper skin of my thighs and the baby pink panties i'd chosen this morning - things that I hadn't expected nor wanted the class to see
"get-off- mE!" i wriggled under the teacher's hold and yet couldn't escape his grasp - and looking across the class with teary eyes, noone cared to make eye contact with me or help - instead they all made eye contact with the baby pink between my legs, uncaring for the yelps that left my mouth
the only one that looked me in the eyes was Jones. My bully, who hadn't shown kindness since I'd first joined. please, Jones... I'd whispered with a wavering tone to him - holding eye contact as he leaned down, his hands falling on either of my thighs... before he gripped them - hard - and prised them open to give everyone a better view of the pair of panties. and with both his hands occupied, his head fell between my legs as a scream left my mouth, his teeth clenching around the material to pull it away from my pussy and expose the raw flesh that evoked some scattered gasps and wows across the classroom.
"Terry, take my place holding her - everyone gather round-"
My body was grasped by a different set of arms, blubbers falling from my lips as the teacher came to my side and the class left their seats to come closer to my bare pussy - eyes fixated on the exposed mound
"This is what a real pussy looks like - this up here-"
he touched my clit and made my whole body jerk, a cry mixing ang mingling with a moan and making something of a wailing noise that seemed to make someone's trousers tighter
"that is the clitoris. the place that had the most nerves and it a pleasure point on the female anatomy. This set of lips is the labia majora - the other lips - and these inner ones are the labia minora"
i felt utterly degraded feeling him pinch either set of lips, shaking them with his words to emphasise what he said using my body - a trail of dampness following his fingers as he pulled away from my pussy
"and most importantly - this here is the vagina - the hole from which women have periods and babies from - but most importantly - the place which you put cocks, fingers and toys into to pleasure a woman."
"everyone, you may now touch and feel the demonstration."
my whole body jerked as various prods and motions were conceded on my pussy - Jones' hold firm around my thighs and stopping my from squirming or wriggling myself away from all the touch that made tears leak from my eyes
"can i finger her, sir?"
"absolutely, how else would you learn?"
a scream leaves my mouth as a pair of foreign fingers breaches my pussy, twisting and almost patting my inner walls curiously, before pulling away with a trail connecting his fingers to my pussy - fluid dripping between his fingers as the separated the two that had been inside my pussy
"okay, so, our first assignment will be to see how a pussy reacts when stimulated with pleasure"
everyone is given a chance to make me cum.
initially i scream and writhe on the desk whilst I'm instead pinned down, and have my pussy violated with fingers what scissor my walls and prod a sensitive spot until my juices spread over my shaky legs. then it's a tongue that breaches my hole with flicks and thrusts. they gain confidence though - and it's not long before a cock is inserted into my pussy and leaves stains of white over my pussy when he finishes.
my throat becomes so raw i cant speak - my mind a broken scramble and my pussy is so spent and broken that it doesn't even contract in horror anymore. it's completely passive as the orifice is breached over and over until...
"okay, that's good - now, as we still have a bit more time before class finishes... let's have some fun - everyone - find something in your bag or in the classroom to shove in her pussy to see how she reacts."
my mind is still scrambled - yet someone props a book beneath my head so that i can at least see all of the objects that are pushed into my hole - the pupils' cum acting as lubrication that allows the random objects to enter my pussy
a whiteboard pen, markers and other various stationary items enter first - testing the waters before someone tries to push a water bottle up there - then a chair leg that two people need to hold to effectively spear me with the metal rod
"good job today," the teacher bends to say into my ear as the students thank him and leave the classroom whilst im still starfished, energy dead on the desk. "clean yourself up and go the principal's office once you've done that. apparently he could hear all the racket in here and wanted a private meeting with you"
Can't stop thinking about an older woman holding my head in her lap while her husband rapes my fertile little pussy,
She can't have children of her own for whatever reason, so she brought me home, under the pretense of just another one night stand.
Next thing i know I'm on their bed with my head in her lap, too drunk to put up much of a fight. She's holding my ankles so I'm spread nice and wide for her husband to rut into, panting and groaning, using me like im nothing but a toy to get off in, while she coos in my ear about how good im doing, how ill look so cute all swollen with their baby, that ill be the perfect little incubator for them. That i look so good getting stretched out by her husbands big, fat cock.
She reaches down and rubs my neglected clit, eliciting a sound somewhere between a sob and a moan from me, i should hate this, but I'm so fucking wet. I beg them to stop,let me go,slow down, please. She shushs me, rubbing faster while i squirm, on the verge of cumming. My walls clench down on his cock as i get closer, making him fuck into me harder, faster, pushing us both over the edge. He slams his cock painfully hard against my cervix, his hot cum shooting straight up into my waiting womb, my orgasm only serving to milk the last few drops out of him. He pulls out and i feel his cum dripping out of me, which she quickly pushes back in with her fingers, shoving it back up into my fertile womb, making me cry from the humiliation and overstimulation. My sensitive cunt tightening down on her fingers.
This ritual continues for over a month until she gets a positive test, several times a day, leaving me nothing but a fucked out mess, constantly dripping cum and unbearably sensitive. Their perfect little incubator.
She tells me she's always wanted a really big family.
Even a quiet, slow rape can be as big of a turn on as a loud angry one. Let me fuck you while you whine and whisper that it hurts. I want to watch you sob quietly on the end of my cock too. I don't even need to talk to you, I want to grope you and have you freeze and shut down when you see I'm going to take you by force anyway. Just give in and look terrified while I undress you and move you around like a doll
You text me to say you’re feeling dysphoric today. The “come to my place” you get in response leads to what it always does: me fingering your pretty little pussy to make you feel better about it.
Needy whimpers and the desperate sound of squelching fill the room.
Your mind goes blank. Then, suddenly: the fingering stops and a solid, smooth, cylindrical shape is pressed against your swollen clit.
You open your eyes and blearily look down between your thighs. You thought you were just here for a hookup, but the sight of a thick syringe full of cum has you in panic mode. It’s holding so much, easily more than five loads of warm semen.
“relax.”
And now, I’m working the syringe inside you. Your stomach lurches.
You try to whimper and protest but I’ve fucked your pussy open with my fingers so successfully that the syringe slides in easily, the plastic coated in your eager juices.
You let out a high pitched-moan as you feel it push you wide open. The pressure makes you wetter. It feels good.
“Gooood girl.”
Your heart is pounding, from pleasure and fear, knowing that our games have led you to skip more than a few T doses and you’re not on birth control.
I slowly ease the syringe in and out of you. You didn’t know it would come to this so quickly. I growl softly into your ear.
“I have twenty five loads right here, all from various men. They rubbed their dicks to your old pictures. So today, let’s get you knocked up.”
My words hit you like a ton of bricks, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down the inside of your soft thighs, making my knuckles glisten around the base of the syringe. Silently, I move my thumb onto the plunger.
You feel the object shift deeper into your pussy and then there’s a pressure on your cervix. There’s a dull ache that comes with it, but it only adds to your desperation. Although you’d like to say it’s a shock your body is betraying you like this, it comes as no surprise that you’re so ready to get bred.
“Keep those legs wide open for me.”
My other hand gropes your chest, under your tee shirt. You feel split almost in two by the syringe as I pinch and circle your nipples. You learned to stop wearing a binder during your visits.
You imagine what it’ll be like when your breasts start to swell from pregnancy, unable to hide or bind, and heavy with milk.
The thought brings another bolt of fear but your pussy trembles.
“I think you’re ready.”
Without any further warning, I slam the plunger down with my thumb. The top of the syringe is placed directly against your cervix, where you feel a sudden warm pressure. Twenty five anonymous loads coat your walls and are deposited directly into your womb in one thick, seemingly never ending spurt.
All it takes is my thumb on your aching clit to tip you over the edge. You climax with the syringe still wedged inside you, your contractions drinking up the ropes of semen. You’re shaking, high from orgasm and not fully understanding the next nine months of your life.
I kiss you on the forehead and keep you plugged up with the emptied syringe. I can’t wait to watch you swell.
Having a clit sucker locked on your painfully overstimulated clit under a belt so your Dom can turn it on to correct your behaviour like a shock collar
Clit so over sensitive that every time he turns it on to the highest setting without warning your eyes roll up into your head and you fall to the floor trying desperately to pull your hips away from the assaulting pleasure and pain
I’m laying in bed imagining having a real man play with my girly body. Obviously the rough correction and degradation is fun, but I would love soft, gentle correction.
I’m imagining a man laying me down on his bed and kissing me, while his hands roam around groping my body. He would tell me that I’m being such a good girl for him, and he would promise that he’s going to fix me, to make me all better. He’d take off my shirt and squeeze my breasts and pinch my nipples. He’d suck on one nipple while he groped my other titty, and then he’d switch sides, back and forth. All the while, promising that he would make me into the best possible girl for him.
Then he’d kiss his way down my body until he got to my pants. He’d pull them down but leave my underwear on. He’d trace his fingers up and down my slit through my panties. He’d talk about how wet my vagina already was for him, and how sensitive my clit was. He’d pull my panties to the side and caress my vulva, not even penetrating me yet. He’d gently slide off my panties and lick up and down my sensitive slit, and lap at my clit until I was writhing under him. He’d then slip his tongue into my soaking wet, but still tight girlhole. He’d dart his tongue in and out, occasionally bringing it up to my clit. Finally he’d latch on to my clit while he gently worked my tight hole open.
Then he’d undress himself and rub his hard cock up and down my wet slit. He’d position the head of his manly penis at the opening of my vagina and just barely press in- the head wouldn’t even be inside yet. He would tell me that this was the moment. He was going to penetrate me. He was going to make me his perfect little girl. He would remind me that once he was inside me, he owned me. With one fluid motion, he would penetrate my vagina with his penis. He would fuck me slowly at first, telling me that I was being such a good girl, and that he was so proud of me for taking his cock so well. He would bend down and suck on my nipples, or play with my clit.
Then he would tell me that the most important part was about to happen. He would push my legs up to my shoulders and pause for a minute, still inside of me. He would tell me that he was about to ejaculate inside of me. He was going to mark me as his own; he was going to seed my womb. He would start fucking me faster and deeper, moaning and telling me how good my vagina felt around his penis. Then he’d push as deep as he could, moan, and release inside of me. He would rub my clit until I came around his cock, then pull out- careful to keep as much of his life giving seed inside of me as he could.
He would lay down next to me and simply say good girl. And I wouldn’t argue.
Imagine an evil wizard transforms a cuntboy into a realistic sex doll with huge jiggly boobs and a tight pussy, trapped in this sexualized, feminized body being used by aggressive incels 🥵
Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.
“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.
Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”
“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.
As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”
“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”
“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.
“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”
Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”
“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”
You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”
“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.
“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”
“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”
“Of course!” You answer instinctively.
“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.
“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!
“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.
“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.
Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”
“Uh… no, sorry.”
“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.
“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.
“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.
“Umm… not yet, no.”
“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”
“I guess…”
“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”
“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.
“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”
Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”
“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”
This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”
“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.
Still upset, you nodded.
He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.
Surprised, you squeaked.
“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.
“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.
“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.
Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”
“Good girl.”
“Huhh…”
“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”
“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.
“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.
“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.
“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”
Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.
“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.
“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.
He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.
You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!
Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”
You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”
“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.
You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.
Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.
you could be that submissive "trans man"'s last grindr hookup!! get her on her back and fuck her deep and slow. tell her you know how hard it is for her, desperate to be a sex object but stuck begging men to experiment with her. tell her you think she'd still be a beautiful woman. moan and thrust into her harder. spread her thighs wider and fantasize out loud about how juicy they'd look in a miniskirt. make her feel satisfied, finally treated like a piece of meat. grope her, pull her down by her hips. men on the street will want to do this to her, not just the ones she has to fish for online. its so easy. just be a woman, thats all it takes. cum inside her. tell her later you were imagining what she'll look like in a year off t. enjoy the rush of confusion and relief relaxing her body in your arms, and the delighted noises she makes when she realizes she's still prey
jbbartram-illu
origamiaround
annaxmalina
pixelskylines
titsay
theartofmadeline
