Bunny "Boy"

He had convinced me to come home with him. I was stupid with desire, my head swimming, as his hands raked roughly over me. His cock was pressing through his pants, through the cotton of my underwear, rubbing against my clit. He squeezed my tits and bit my neck and growled out how badly he wanted to fuck me. There wasn’t enough room to fuck in his car, not comfortably at least. Breathless, I agreed to go to his house.

It went against everything I believed. I was smart, a feminist. I only went out with guys who shared my values, of consent and sexual empowerment, and this guy fit the bill. He had contacted me on an online dating site and said all the right things, getting me to meet up with him that night. Now I was in his bed, my quick first date skirt and top on the floor. And his cock was in me, skin on skin.

He was stronger and faster than me and I barely had time to react. He peeled my clothes from my body, running his hands over my hips, licking his lips approvingly. “I’ve always loved chicks with a little cushion. More womanly.”

I smirked as he began to finger me, eliciting gasps and moans. His bites became rougher and harder, his fingers deeper. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. His cock was so hard against my legs, throbbing thick and full and I needed it inside of me. I grabbed him by the hair, positioning myself to climb on top of him and ride him like the woman I was. 

“Grab a condom,” My voice was quiet in his still bedroom, the fading evening light the only illumination. “I want to fuck you.”

It was then it all changed.

He grabbed me by the hair and flung me back on the bed. He kneed my legs open and clambered in between them, the look on his face one of a crazed animal. His cock was resting dormant between my wet folds, I could almost feel the veins as it knocked against me slowly.

“No condom. You’re taking all of me, bitch.”

His cock was large and he thrust into me so deep. I was so wet I couldn’t resist him, couldn’t do anything to push against him. His hand was over my mouth but I screamed anyways, trying to gasp air into my lungs.

His pace was slow and steady and methodical, as he explained to me his plan.

“I fucking hate you feminist bitches. I fucking look out for you, just looking to fuck you back into your places. I love the weak ones like you, the ones who haven’t gone full dyke on me.” His mouth was right next to my hear and the base of his cock kept connecting with my clit. I was so wet and sloppy, my cunt tight around him. I hadn’t had sex in months.

“You think you’re so empowered and gifted and better than me.” His pace was quickening, “You’re so tight and fuckable. Your stupid little pussy is just sucking me in. You hate men so you don’t fuck them, but you’re still obsessed with looking pretty and girly. Your body still wants you to be my slave.”

Tears were streaming down my face. He kept one hand on my mouth and moved his other down to my clit, playing with me as he stroked in and out of my body. He had bent me almost in half, my legs wide open around his shoulders. I felt so completely violated, full of this man whom I hated with every fiber of my being.

He started rubbing my clit, applying more pressure each time he pushed all the way into me. “You look so beautiful, open to me. Look in the mirror.”

He forced my head over, directing my eyes to a body mirror that he had obviously cleverly placed. I could make out our conjoined pelvises. My porcelain skin was radiant, flashing white. The flesh was taught and my legs were pointed straight up, like breach in a wall. He was hammering me so hard, making me witness my own rape.

His cock was swelling more and more and I tried my best to fight him. But I couldn’t. All I could do was lay prone and take it, fighting the urge to feel pleasure as he kept playing with my clit. He knew was he was doing.

“I can tell it’s the first time you’ve been fucked, the way a woman should be fucked. Feel me rip into you, so deep. You couldn’t stop me if you tried.” He re positioned himself, swinging us so our entire bodies were parallel to the mirror. He pulled my head back, palm still tight against my lips, so I could see myself in the mirror again. All I could see was my face, blue eyes and dark hair, skin flushed pink with excitement and…

“I can tell because of the look on your face. Your so wet and you look like you love this so much.” He said, voice heavy with pleasure. “You can’t hide it.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was horrified. I watch my tits bounce up and down with his rhythm, and tried my best to get the shell-shocked drunk look off my face. I had seen a lot of porn, and none of the women in it looked like I did. Hell, I didn’t look like what I usually looked like when I watched myself fucking. I looked complacent, greedy, I looked like I was enjoying myself.

He laughed and released my mouth, “I know it’s true. You’re not going to try and fight me anymore.”

His cock was so deep inside me and all I could think about was how he wasn’t wearing a condom. I stared into his eyes, wordless, trying to keep my moans down. He felt so… good. So right.

“Yeah, you fucking slut. You want this cock. You want me.” I shook my head but he slapped me hard. “Tell me how bad you want me inside you.”

I couldn’t make the words come out of my mouth. I felt him swell even more. He gripped my throat in one hand and brought himself in for a kiss. He bit my lip, hard, drawing blood.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me now. I can wait. The night is young, tons of time before people start looking for you.” He whispered, “I’ve got you and your body for hours and you’re going to be begging me not leave before I’m done.”

I clenched tight around him. I had been so focused on the thought of him kidnapping me that my orgasm snuck up on me. I came, hard. It felt like lightning was shooting through my body, every muscle tensing as I cried out against his shoulder. He held me down as I bucked and contorted wildly, still thrusting deeper and deeper.

“I knew you would cum, you slut. And you know what happens after you cum? After all of your muscles relax and open even more to me?” He lowered his voice to a purr, nothing more than a sinister whisper. “Then I cum in you and knock you up. Fill you with me. I’ll be dripping down your thighs for days.”

His pace quickened and he kept talking, emphasis each word with a thrust, faster and faster. “I have always voted against health care and assistance for sluts like you. It’s the way it’s supposed to be. I rape a baby into you, you become mine.”

I couldn’t help it. I was overcome with sensation, his cock hitting me harder and harder. I had never felt so fucking good in my entire life.

“Here it comes. I’m going to knock you up and there’s nothing you can do about it. Get ready for my fucking kid, bitch.”

And he came. Hard. His eyes clenched shut and he thrust completely into me, almost pushing me off the bed. My cunt was so warm and wet and tight, I felt every pulse of his girth. I was pulling him in with my own orgasm, which I couldn’t fight no matter how hard I tried. Every neuron in my brain was glowing and shattering as I felt the last bit of energy leave my body.

He spurted hard several times, but eventually, tapered off. He still thrust lazily into my soaking cunt, emptying himself. He kissed my neck and laughed quietly in my ear, giving me a few final hard thrusts before pulling out.

I lay, completely still, on the bed. My chest was heaving and my eyes were wet with tears and sweat. He sat beside me and slapped my ass hard. “Always loved women with big hips. I can’t wait to see how they grow.”

I couldn’t do anything as he lay beside me, pulling me against him. My cunt was still hot with his seed, and I shuddered as I felt his cock between my thighs.

A few months ago I started dating this guy. Very nice cis man a few years older than me. He took me out on a date. We started texting more and more afterwards and opened up about kinks. I didn’t share my detrans kink right away.

I forget how it came about, if he mentioned it first or if I did but one day it came up. Well he realized how turned on it made me and jumped into it head first.

During normal conversations he made references to me being a woman. He would say “how’s my girl doing?” When I woke up in the morning. It all made me guilty but disgustingly horny. When I had to fill out forms with my birth sex on them I sent him pics.

He changed my name in his phone to my deadname. He told me he would never fuck me as a man ever again. Every single time we fucked he called me a woman. I started shaving my body, wearing lingerie under my clothes for him.

Anyways it didn’t work out for other reasons and he dumped me but wow was that fun

Aww, this one is just sweet. You start dating a nice guy, you open up to him about what your cunt really needs, and he treats you like the slutty girl that you are.

My favorite part about this, actually, is the forms. Because it shows off one of the best things about fakeboys: even the most mundane reminders of what you are can get you wet. Some girls need wine and roses and soft beds; some girls put down an "F" on paperwork and are instantly ready to be fucked full of cum on a hard floor.

I wanted to get a little more in depth about what we did.

At first I told him I only wanted to do the detrans kink part of the time and he agreed. However, he did confess that he thought it would be very exciting to do it all the time.

Little by little he began wearing down my mind. If I forgot something obvious he would blame it on my “girl brain”. When I made a joke I was his “crazy woman”.

What did it for me was how casual and confident he was. He called me a woman, the opposite of my identity, as if he was commenting on the weather. It was as though my years of transition and hard work were just nothing. The worst part was how much I enjoyed it. I was slipping off to my bedroom throughout my day to make myself cum.

The horniness became more and more overwhelming until I stopped telling him I needed emotional breaks from the kink.

He noticed, and told me how happy he was that I was more comfortable with myself. I had shared with him pictures of me pre transition in college and he sent them to me telling me I was so beautiful in them. He said he couldn’t wait for me to get back to that and how happy he was to be able to help. It was all so caring and degrading.

At his house I told him I wanted to wrestle him and prove I was stronger. He laughed at me sweetly and agreed. Anyways one moment I was on my feet and the next I was flat on my back with my legs over his shoulders hahaha. I did genuinely try my best to fight back but it was kind of shocking how easy he overpowered me. He knew he was a lot stronger than me so did it gently by firm as to not hurt me. My pants were pulled down and he choked me while he fished his cock out and….well you know the rest.

I think it was that experience that really solidified in my mind I was not a man. Even the guys I’ve messaged with after the breakup have made references to my small and delicate nature even if I never mentioned my detrans kink.

Next he began calling me by my deadname more. My real name, my legal name. In a matter of days it was all he called me, whispering it in my ear even around my friends. He showed me how he changed my name in his phone.

We went out with my friends and he pulled me into a club bathroom and fucked me. All while calling me his girl and I confessed to him out loud over and over that I was a woman and would never pretend to be a man again. It was the most turned on I’ve ever been.

He pulled me aside three time that night to breed my pussy. Each time he just pulled up my pants and we went back to the party.

Anyways I just thought I’d share that haha. Haven’t been able to cum even months after we last saw each other without thinking about how I’m a woman.

The first ask was fun, but this is so much better. 🖤

I love that the thing that really made you his woman was... casual misogyny. Again, some girls would be upset at their boyfriend implying they were ditzy and emotional because of their sex - but not you! You'd fought so hard to be a man, and so him telling you that you were a silly girl was just one defeat layered on another, and that just made you need to find somewhere private to rub your girl brains out.

The wrestling, though: that's classic. It's so funny that fakeboys truly don't understand how different they are from men. Believing the lies you tell yourself that you're basically a man, I guess? But it's hard to keep up that lie when you're fighting as hard as you can, and he's trying his best to be gentle, and you still end up on your back with your dripping pussy spread wide open.

You can fight it, resist those inborn instincts, defy your biological imperative, but your body fights back, and it fights dirty. It floods you with hormones, causes images and fantasies to flash in your mind of you being bent over and filled with cock, cum leaking out of your holes. You shouldn’t find them so hot, but you do, until one seemingly harmless masturbation session turns into a deep-seated kink, until nothing makes you cum as hard as when you imagine being mounted and bred in a purely primal, animalistic fashion.

Your head tilts back in a breathy moan as rough fat fingers prep and lube your already weeping folds. From how you’ve been strapped down to the breeding stocks you can’t move your hips to hump into the fingers pumping into you. The fingers leave your pussy and come up to probe at your mouth, 

“Open.” 𖦹°‧ obey obey obey your brain fuzzes out and supplies ꩜

 A rough male voice orders, your own juices coat your lips as you open hesitantly. A pill is quickly shoved into your throat, the hand covers your lips and mouth as you try to spit it up. Finally you swallow,

 “Good girl.” 𖦹°‧ good girl good girl his his good girl ꩜

She will almost certainly clench around you in surprise, she might squirm and try to protest, but all that wiggling just makes your cock feel good. Cum in her, hold her close and let her feel your cock throb inside her.