He'd have to walk around topless when he's alone, even the rub of his binder and tops would edge him all day.

Walking in early to find his fat rippling udders greeting you. His embarrassment making his nipples perk up and his boxers dampening even as he tries to cover himself and go to his room.

Stopping him from leaving as lean towards him, his sextrained mind racing as he tries to resist his instincts. All it takes is a single touch, a lean in for a kiss and all that self improvement gone.

Once again, he's just a pleasure junking cum whore that begs to be bred and sneaks into your bed to taste your morning wood. He stops wearing any tops around you, letting you use every part of him whenever you want.

Soon after that, you convince him to start wearing more slutty clothes, "you said the fabric on your skin is maddening, so why not wear clothes that cover less." " No, I don't think people will stop seeing you as a man because you stopped wearing your binder."

Using him in when with your mutual friends.

You tell him you'll stop helping relieve his frustrations if he doesn't wear more feminine makeup some days. Him fighting back at first. But you bought him half of his toys, and all of the ones he's obsessed with. It took 3 days before you come home to find him dolled up like some bimbo, kneeling at the door and begging for your cock.

You breed him until he passes out, tie him up against the bed. He wakes to find you inside his "boycunt", playing with his clitty, cumming almost immediately.

I feel myself getting more and more dumb and losing braincells when I do this and conditioning myself to love transphobia and crave it, to find it erotic.

i’m a good dyke because i fantasize about cock

i’m a good dyke because i fantasize about cock

i’m a good dyke because i fantasize about cock