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oh my god did you seriously just quicksave in front of me. you know i can see it right. please please please tell me you didn't just rape me and reload the save. you know i like having sex with you, right? and all you have to do is ask?
ooohhhhh. i get it. you're teasing me. you definitely did rape me but you're not saying anything because you know it gets me all riled. pfft. whatever. meanie
I want to touch my friends halo. She chose a name of an angel, and I see the way she carries herself and looks over her friends. The way she is able to read the girls like her (such as myself) so thourghly and recognize a level of fracturing that she has managed to stitch together into a level of social divinity that she carries with her. I don't think she acctully had a halo... but I think there is something like it in her mindscape. Or perhaps some form of hypnosis could do it. But oh how I want to worship her, and examin her, and touch her halo so gently... so as not to tarnish it to much... yet... I wonder what would happen if I tried to. Corrupt that divinity, try and fracture her again, pull her back down to my level, or deeper perhaps. See what happens if she stops holding herself back. Holding herself together for the sake of others.. starts trying to take what she *wants* from the world.
Me: i'm sexually normal and my libido is pretty low lately :)
Me after my second estrogen shot: *starts CRYING-ass crying while i cum while the nice pretty voiced asmr lady goes "That's my doll, I'm taking care of you"*
For thousands of years humanity has selectively bred chickens to have larger breasts and to have to lay eggs constantly. We did it to get more meat and per chicken, but from the perspective of the domesticated chickens they’re sorta living in a very specific fetish scenario
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escaping that specific context. there is a lot to be said about the psychosexual appeal of being ruined. breaking kink my beloved. and of course i especially enjoy the psychology of the villains. it's just hard because you don't want people taking your in-character posting of how this is "actually a good thing" and taking it seriously. under no circumstances should you genuinely believe the kidnapper has your best intentions at heart, and it's a bit yum-yucking when a large amount of the responses you receive do so.
little doll, you can resist as hard as you want, but this is how it's going to be now. you can hit and scratch until you draw blood. you can swear and argue until you think you've said something. but I know that deep in your heart, you're looking forward to how soon you won't be able to fight back at all. we just need to find that part of you. so, hold still, you wouldn't want me cutting away more than is necessary, would you?
not to keep shenposting but when i read “i’m in therapy for gender stuff” my stomach dropped a little. everyone i’ve ever known to go to therapy for gender stuff sat in a chair while somebody tried to convince them to be the most palatable thing they could force. it happened to me and so many ppl i love and i’m probably getting a little parasocial but i just hope she gets out of that.
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I saw that post about that one kind of barnacle that forcefemmes crabs and it may have planted a plot bunny in my head.
Human ship responds to distress call from alien ship. It's critically damaged and the crew is mostly dead. Human MC gets exposed to parasite, but their ship lacks a medical suite capable of extracting it safely and since it is technically sapient they can't legally remove it
MC has to cope as "his" body starts changing and he starts hallucinating an avatar of the very apologetic parasite
I think mostly because the implantation was completely accidental and non-consensual. Its species has a very complex socio-cultural relationship with the typical arthropoid host species (which itself has a complicated intra-species history), which has them to nearly being hunted to extinction.
Basically, she's literally two blinks old with only genetic memory to fall back on, and she's terrified
[Image ID: A reply from thriron saying "Why is the parasite apologetic? Because its normal host is more compatible? Not sapient? Doesn't usually forcefem its host?" End ID]
I turn on the faucet, splash some water on my face, look up and-
“Fuck!”
Instinct takes control, spinning me around to look for the intruder that isn't there. My elbow bangs painfully on the wall of the cramped washroom.
“Sorry,” Libby mumbles from somewhere over my left shoulder as far as my brain can tell.
I flinch slightly, resisting the urge to search for the source of the phantom sound.
A different instinct tries to kick in, detached and rational, trying to let my panicked lizard brain know that there is no one who can possibly be in the room with me.
Both voices are wrong. Libby is definitely in the room with me, she just isn't hunched over by the door like when I spotted her out of the corner of my eye in the mirror.
I rub my smarting elbow and try not to think about the itch that has started up where the chitinous mass of her shell has grafted itself to my spine.
But trying not to think about it has the opposite effect. My stomach sinks in response to an emotion that isn't my own.
“I'm sorry,” she repeats.
“Can you please stop apologizing?” I sigh.
“I'm…”
A tingle of frustration jitters through her, tingling through the ganglia that are currently wrapped around my brainstem.
I look back at the mirror, focusing on my own face to let the apparition of her appear again in the corner of my vision. I still can't decide exactly who my brain decided it wanted her to be. I can only ever see her in the periphery. She's just a sort of vague out of focus figure. A random stranger in a cafe I saw once maybe. A curtain of hair and an oversized sweatshirt.
I still don't know why I named her Libby.
“Something on your mind?” I ask her as I pick up the razor.
I set it down again. I haven't needed to shave at all in six days.
“This is like the scorpion and the frog thing? Isn't it?” she asks after a moment.
“The what?” I ask, somewhat befuddled
“I heard Carson and Reggie talking about it when you were asleep,” she explains. “Some kind of story about being unable to resist our nature. I'm the scorpion, aren't I?”
I feel my lips tug slightly into a frown. Her species can't hear, at least not in the way humans do. And I was also not previously aware that she could actually understand spoken Engelsk. I don't know what it all means, but it leaves me disquieted.
She senses my mood and I feel another apology coming on.
“Do you even know what a scorpion is?” I ask, heading her off.
“I…”
Her frustration becomes somewhat bemused.
“Well no,” she admits. “I thought it was kind of like a…”
I don't have a word for the mental image she sends me. Some kind of nightmare arachnid from some unnamed alien desert.
“Yeah, close enough,” I say, somewhat terrified.
“I can't escape my nature,” she says. “I can't stop my biology from changing you. But you aren't a typical host for my species. What if I'm killing you?”
I sigh.
“You're not killing me.”
“But the medications-”
“Are for you as much as me,” I interrupt. “Auto-doc doesn't know shit about how to handle this situation. It doesn't want my body rejecting you before we get to a real medical facility.”
Gods below, but I am tired of the nasty cocktail of immunosuppressants.
“Why did you decide not to go into stasis for the trip back?” she asks in a small voice.
I knew this question was coming. I had been asking myself exactly the same thing constantly since I chose to stay conscious and ride out whatever Libby was doing to my body.
I studied my face in the mirror, the softness of the jaw, the smoothness. My eyes wandered down to my chest, where soft aching mounds were taking shape. I thought about the very real possibility of her repurposing my reproductive system, filling me with her eggs and-
No. Nope, I was definitely not thinking about that outside of the privacy of my own quarters.
Regardless, the thoughts had my heart racing.
“What if…”
Fuck, could I even say this aloud?
“What if we got to Persephone Station and we… didn't go through with the extraction procedure?”
“What?”
“What if we stayed together and… I don't know, tried to work something out?”
For such an inclusive queer community I keep seeing evidence of a deep seeded seething hatred for women who aren't doormats and also all disabled people.
Specifically disabled women. Because feminists are all developmentally stunted and hysterical, right?
Oops I forgot, this is the "I can't read subtext" webdite. Must have been the wind.
Daily affirmation: one day i'll have a beautiful vagina and i'll wake up to a beautiful woman hungrily eating me out while i lay on the bed, with the sun warming up my naked body
I think a lot about the kind of scene in a certain kind of magical forcefem stuff where the main character's "past life and memories" are rewritten so she was "always a girl". In my opinion, that part does have an irl parallel: the moment of (or, more frequently, the slow process of) reviewing your past and assembling pieces of evidence that you were trans into a narrative.
It's an interesting process! I think it's an extremely socially mediated one. A lot of the time I see it done in groups, trans girls talking about their childhood experiences and "bonding" over details like extreme discomfort standing to piss, fear towards boys' locker rooms, or appreciation of lesbian art. Sharing of trauma. There's almost never any single 'everyone has this one' experience. Liking forcefem is a frequent entry, unsurprisingly.
But, what really makes the parallel work to me is that, like, this revision of history didn't need to happen. Of course, this process is a solidification of one's identity-as-trans-girl. Establishing your existence not merely in the present but in history. Your past self might not even agree with the characterization, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that you believe it. So in a way, you're kinda forcefeming your past self. And I think that's kinda awesome.
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at some point the hero did stop falling for 'my eyes are up here' + mind control eyes. plus the fact that pretty much all i used the time it was mind controlled for was just to reset the gag meant it was able to escape unmolested (well except for all the literal molestation i did while it was staring blankly forward). however it was really funny the whole time so i have no regrets.
Your most pet coded trait is probably your fluffy tail. How it gets in the way when you turn or move and you have to constantly adjust so it doesn't get in the way. Really making it clear to everyone that you're not human. Also how sensitive it is to every touch. Even your own fingers if you're not careful will be enough to make is bristle and make you make so many involuntary noises. Plus it takes up so many space. When you go outside strangers always gawk at it. That and your ears, probably. Oh and the collar you wear everywhere, but the tail gets noticed first.
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