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TME trans people often just say “I’m trans” and don’t clarify they are a man/masc, nor actually do any work to explain whether they are affected by transmisogyny or not. They love the rush they feel when the person they’re talking to takes a less defensive posture when realizing they aren’t TMA.

CW: bimbofication, corruption, brainwashing, corporate takeover,

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Jane groaned.

From the neighboring cubicle Melissa let out a similar sound.

Jane didn't need to see her to know exactly how she felt. The same exhausted, irritated noise Jane had been making all morning told her everything.

Then another groan answered from somewhere farther across the office.

A lot of the tops I know have a favorite toy. Something they've found fits perfectly in their hand and that they reach for first when need arises. Maybe it was a gift from a current or past sub that they treasure. Maybe it was something they spent months saving for. Or, my favorite, it's just reliable. They found it on a whim, and nothing else has ever filled the roll just as well.

Even for the subs, you can comprehend the feeling. You have a favorite toy, or at least type, that you love to have involved in a scene. Is it a shock collar you found together at the pet store? Maybe it's a paddle they can get the perfect swing in with? Or maybe it's a gift you got them. Every time you see it in their hands your heart swells a bit, knowing you did right in finding that for them, putting it in their hands.

I live for a particular moment myself. It's the moment something shifts in a persons eyes and you can tell they've unlocked something new within themselves.

I'll introduce myself to my target in measures. Respectfully. Politely. Just enough forward flirting they know I'm interested in them. I'll take what steps I need to earn their trust. Maybe they just need another sadistic person to vent their feelings to. Someone that knows what it's like for a dom to feel that awful drop after a scene. Or maybe they're a little self conscience, so I'll show my throat at the first opportunity. "I'm not here to be aggressive with you." Whatever it takes, making them feel comfortable is my first priority.

For these first interactions my goal is simple. I just want to be on your mind. I want you to easily drift toward thoughts of me as you go about your day, until you find you can't really shake me from your head.

I'm a patient hunter.

Eventually I'd learn about your toy collection first hand. "Which is your favorite?" I'd ask with the softest purr on my lips, watching your expression as your eyes drift over each.

As I share my own experiences from the past, how long before you're considering what those subs felt under me? How many months of careful guided conversations would it take before you began to grow curious about how I might dom?

I'll make the first move when I see that curiosity start to grow. Maybe I'll let a tone slip into my voice. Maybe I'll call you 'baby' in that sweet, delicate way I do with animals. Maybe I'll just let my eyes linger on the delicate parts of you with just a little too much hunger in my gaze.

You were already thinking about me. Now I'm an intrusive thought. Invading your mind in quiet moments and tempting you with the suggestion of "what if?"

One day, I'll push you and you wont push back.

When I hunt I'm after a certain type. Stone tops, the confident switch, I love them but they are not my focus with this. There's certain type of dom that just fell into the roll and never found their way into anything else. Someone that's spent so long focusing on others they've lost all perception of themselves, their needs, their desires. Even just their curiosities.

That toy, your favorite? Imagine it in my hands.

Since I learned it was your favorite I've spent the time learning how to use it myself.

I'm going to break you with it.

It's not even going to be hard.

I'll spend hours chipping away the shell of who you were until there's nothing left. You wont try and struggle out from under me. You wont pull at the restraints.

You'll cry for me. I'll wrench every vocalization from you until all that's left are your ragged breaths.

When I'm done you'll find peace in the crook of my throat. After a time you'll start to come back to yourself, a goofy smile on your face, a new gleam in your expression. I'll ease you through your first sub drop until you feel confident to stand on your feet again.

Weeks, maybe months later you'll reach for that toy, once more eager to play with a sub. Instead your hand will wrap around its handle and you'll be yanked back to that evening with me. Do you think your aggression will survive intact when you can't touch a toy without dropping into subspace? I'll make sure that our single evening together is all you can ever associate it with.

Your favorite toy, forever stained.

(If you would like to support my writing and help me relocate to a safer place I've included my cash app below or you can DM for my paypal)

It's not long before I'm maked, a collar? I can't even think anymore. My mind is completely lost and I'm almost thankful to being on all fours. I barely notice the sound of tapping. I barely notice the wet tongue as it pushes against my cunt. Everyone else does, they stare, unsure if how to handle it as every lap teases a whine from my drunken lips. They keep watching as I start to whine louder, pushing back into the tongue as I do.

My dress is torn at the bottom. There was a party in town earlier this evening and I'd stopped by in my best new dress. I wanted to make a good impression and the invitation said to wear something formal, so I did. How foolish I was. It's freezing out here in the woods. Did they put something in my drink? I see the signs of my struggle from my captors all over my body. Marks, scrapes, finger prints in my skin. I feel betrayed. Heart broken. Terrified. I pull and tug at my hands to try and free them to no avail. Whoever tied me here was skillful, they knew I'd try and escape so they made my bonds extra tight. They've definitely done this before. In the dark night I can't see a thing. Can't hear anything but my own nervous breathing. I try and look around but my head is spinning with panic. How did I get here? How did I get into this predicament? "You don't need to worry about a thing ever again my pretty prey." A voice replies. I gasp. Pulling hard on the ropes, I twist my body around to get a better view of whatever was behind the sound. Out of a nearby cluster of trees, under a blanket of dark night steps a figure, cloaked in a long velvet cape, their glowing red eyes piercing through the blackness to meet mine. They are simply beautiful. I'm trapped again, now in their gaze.

The mixture of fear and intrigue is intoxicating. My mind swims and sinks in the feelings bubbling up inside it, mingling with pure panic. I want to scream. I want to cry. But a deep, dark sense of pure calm washes over me. An unnatural feeling knowing I should be on edge at this beautiful stranger approaching me like this but I can't do anything else except lazily stare into those eyes. They cut through to my very core. My eyes, my body and my mind start to feel heavy as my focus is stolen from me. My attention held in their vice like grip as they whisper words directly into my head. "Relax my thrall. You don't need to worry now. I have you right where I want you. You'll be safe with me. I've come to rescue you." They say with a smirk. I sigh deeply. "Thank you so much." I whisper through the foggy haze in my head. Heart skipping a beat. Eyes fluttering as they approach. Close enough to cup my chin with a cold hand and lift my head up to meet their eyes. Now we're face to face their power over me seems overwhelmingly strong. Thoughts stripped right out of my mind. I smile through my dreamy haze at them. It's so nice they are helping me keep my head up. I was becoming so relaxed against the ropes that my neck could barely hold the weight of my own heavy head. My eyes struggling to remain open. It's becoming so hard to see the eyes I need to keep falling deeper into. Mind starting to crack under the weight of their voice penetrating through my empty head.

"Hold still." They say as they untie my hands. I giggle shyly at them, becoming so flustered as they pull at my ropes, breathing down my neck as they do. Even if I could move I wouldn't. Their command overwrites my own wants or will. My body, so weak now I can barely stand, crumbles into their arms as they lower me softly to the ground. Head in their lap I look up at them. Unable to even think of attempting to leave of my own free will, or trying to break the sleepy spell they seem to have me under. They brush a hand down my cheek. Sharp nails tracing the outline of my face. "Are you ready to be saved from those dreadful people who trapped you?" They ask. I nod eagerly before they have even finished their question. I'd say yes to anything they asked of me right now. Smiling up at them, I feel so lucky they found me here, my hero. "I'll remember to tell your friends back in the village thank you for such a pretty prize tonight. You made a beautiful offering." They open their lips and I see the two white fangs glistening in the darkness. My heart racing. My breath hitching. "Please save me." I whisper. The words feel foreign to me like they aren't formed of my own thoughts but a compulsion. I'm just a puppet for their control. A player in their pantomime. They write the script into my head. "I'll do anything to be yours." They smile back down at me. "I'll protect you now. Don't worry my precious prey." They pull me close, bite down hard into my neck and then the world fades to nothing. Their fangs are sharp and their grip is firm. My body sinks into the pain and pure bliss. There's nothing to do. Nothing to say. I give in to them completely, falling into deep sleepy surrender to my new owner knowing when I wake, I'll be someone new. Whoever they want me to be.

coaxing her with gentle words, little mumbles of “go back to sleep, sweetheart,” and “daddy’s just trying to make you feel good. you know that, right?”