#fixer asks

I imagine seeing you at the library, in those non-fiction aisles nobody goes to, scrolling and getting wet. You barely notice when I walk by, assuming I am browsing the titles.

From the way you dress, I can tell you're one of those lesbians. Unshaved body hair, no makeup. Your outfit is as butch as it gets. The intention is probably to attract women and repel men, but you don't know enough about men to understand that we only care about what's between your legs.

As soon as I see my blog on your phone, I'm practically drooling at this perfect opportunity to take the bait. Quick as a snake, I snatch your phone out of your hand and hold it up high while reading it aloud.

"Let me see which ones you liked: being fucked on your college degree, having MAGA cock in your gold star pussy. And oh, let's see what your bio says: 'Fuck cis straight men. Proud gold star lesbian'."

I look down at you jumping up and struggling to reach your phone. Your face beet red and you're practically punching my body, trying to get me to budge. You're so close that my semi-hard dick is brushing close to your crotch every time you lean towards me to make a grab.

"Shut- shut up!" You force-whisper in the dead quiet library. Our breaths intermingle in the space between us.

"Is this a challenge? For you to fuck cis straight men? To lose your gold star to me?"

I grab your face in my other hand and make you look in my eyes.

"You need to be taught how to be a good girl." Without waiting for you to react, I spin you around and lower you until you're stomach-down over my knee, your bare ass up while my cock is throbbing against your stomach. I nibble your ear and you could hear my growl.

You're so paralyzed with fear that you haven't tried to stop me from touching you. (At least, that's what you will tell yourself later when we're done.) Despite your bravado online, you've never truly encountered aggression from men before in your safe little queer spaces. My hand snakes down u to grab your pussy firmly. Your juices cover my palm and I rub it easily.

Slap. My hand cracks down and the pain sets in seconds after the shock, you cry out.

"Are you a good girl?" I ask. You clench your jaw.

Slap. The sound seems to reverberate off the shelves and come back to assault your ears. The heat and the sting of it radiating deep within you.

"Are you a good girl?" You whimper.

Slap. Is it you who moaned? The heat seems to have traveled and settled between your legs.

"Yes! Yes, please... please I can't..." You can't believe what's happening, but somehow you're rubbing your thighs together as your clit wakes up for the first time in her life.

I whisper in your ear, "I live to fix girls like you with my cock. You're not the first 'butch' I've caught getting wet for straight guys you pretend to hate."

Your legs are shaking as I slowly trace the shape of your slit and the tiny bump of your clitoris. The most private parts of your body exposed to the world and under the grip of my hand.

I take advantage of your arousal and strip both of us. You put up a fight but I'm so much stronger that all you end up doing is ripping your bra and underwear as you flail. I push you to the carpeted floor, pin your hands above your head, and spread your legs open with my knees. For the first time ever, you feel a man's cock kissing the entrance to your lesbian pussy. It creates a heat like no other in your while you gush, making my slight gyrations so much easier and I slip around until I'm alternating rubbing against your entrance and your engorged clitoris.

"Do you want my conservative cock in your gold star pussy? Do you want me to take it away?" I push a little so you can feel the subtle stretch. Your vagina tasting the precum of a penis for the first time.

You close your eyes and turn your face away. It's your darkest fantasy and it's your deepest shame. Alone in the library, across from the greatest feminist authors of the past century, the foundation of decades of women's suffrage seems to be as hollow as the emptiness you feel inside. Your delicious lips trembling until your beliefs get buried underneath the mountain of your shame.

The word pours from you like hot lava, "...please"

"Look at me."

I wait until your teary eyes meet mine before I thrust my conservative cock hard into you. You wish it hurt more, but I ram inside you easily with the help of your arousal, just as nature has designed. You're too ashamed to admit loving penetration, even from a dildo, but this is another sensation entirely. Firm but slightly yielding to the shape of your pussy, my cock throbs deep inside you. My hairy balls rest against your labia. A fullness that completes you more than you've ever known.

Most unexpected is the feeling of having a man on top of you. It's at once feeling like you're being taken and being taken care of. Your entire world is my weight on your smaller body, my hard pecs against your soft tits, and the heat of my body warming you up in a pleasant sensation. Having struggled earlier and knowing I'm much, much stronger, you have settled into a comfortable position with far less guilt. Your legs are spread open and around me, while your hands are gripping my muscular arms, feeling the rigid shape of my triceps, while pretending you might push me away at any second.

I fuck you like I want to pound you into the lower floor. My balls slapping against you. It's like you're being split open from your crotch and you can't stop opening wider. Every time my pubic bone brushes against your clit, you grind back with more enthusiasm than before.

Sex with women is a game of "equality" where you try to make each other feel good and get off. Sex, as God has intended, has connected you intimately with me. You can feel your vagina gripping my cock and making me moan. You hate that you are seeing me as a person, hate that we're connected. Hate that I don't share any values with you but this single physical act is bonding us in ways that a woman wouldn't ever be able to bond with you.

You tell yourself you're not attracted to my body, but you've never felt more feminine in your life. It's never felt right to be a woman until now, until you're finally embodying femininity in full. Your tears fall as the heat builds and you start putting your arms around me, holding on as you maintain a barely tenuous grasp to your identity.

Being fucked feels so, so good.

A man's cock is inside you.

A man is fucking you.

Fucking you with his big fat conservative cock. De-valuing you as a woman, as a person, until you're nothing but this hole between your legs. Until all your worth is this, laying on your back on the floor of a public place, being used.

And it feels so fucking good. To receive the pounding and not think about anything else but feeling the pleasure course through your body.

A woman wouldn't be able to change your life like I do. The bare friction between us so delicious that you had forgotten that heterosexual sex comes with different risks.

Until I groan and bite the nape of your neck while picking up the pace of my thrusts.

"No, no. Please. Please, I have a girlfriend at home. Please don-" You beg frantically, your voice growing louder with each word.

"Fuck!" I howl and slam my cock into you, so deep and hard that you can feel it in your stomach. "Fuck I'm gonna breed your dyke pussy!"

A man is breeding you.

The spark that has been growing inside you is superheated as you feel the jets of my warm cum hitting inside you, filling you up with my babymaking sperm for the first time ever.

The creampie is still leaking from your pussy even after I've dressed and walked away, leaving you with a kiss and my phone number. Your phone lay forgotten beside you, a picture of your creamy pussy on it.

So that when I feel his cock getting thicker and hotter inside me, I can pull it in, and tell him not to cum inside me, but my body pull him in naturally. While he tells me he's going to fill me with his hot, thick milk. That I won't be able to live without his cock or his cum. I'll become addicted to him, and he'll make me stop liking women, he'll fix me up and fill me up so many times that it will be impossible for me not to get pregnant that night.

And that turns me on so much, that I tell him it's okay, that he can cum inside me, but if he's going to do it, to go as deep as he can, and then he thrust one last time, his tip roughly kissing my cervix while his cock throbs incessantly, spilling rope after rope of thick, sweet, hot, and fertile cum. And he thrusts deeper and deeper, making me moan in pain, feeling like he's going to split me in two, almost going past my cervix, and I feel his load flooding me, he stays for a few minutes sealing my destiny with his load. He slowly withdraws from me, lifting my hips so that not a single drop of his fresh cum spills out of me. When he pulls out, I forcefully push my fingers inside me, trying to take oout his hot load. I push them in so deep that I'm unconsciously making him go even deeper. Making it easy for him to enter my uterus, he notices and just watches me while kissing my head and tells me he'll help me. He helps me get the semen that came out of me back inside with his penis while he fucks me again, while he comes several more times throughout the night, not only inside me, but also on my chest, in my mouth, on my back and my face. So that in the end he puts an anal plug inside me so that nothing he put inside me comes out. And he tells me he's going to buy me the pill, but that he's already cum so much inside me that it'll be pointless. And he's right, the orgasms he's given me are so many, and he filled me so completely that I'm overflowing with his cum. His swimmers are in my fallopian tubes, and my eggs are being received. Myy life will never be the same. I'm no longer a lesbian, and I'm pregnant by the first man who took me, who marked me and made me his wife. I think that even though I have a girlfriend these days, I could text him and have sex with him all night, while he cums inside me and fills me up so much that he sends me back home like that, pregnant and full of his cum.

At this point, it is not your "kink" that's a false belief, but your original assertion that you are a "man-hating lesbian feminist". Your mind and body are aligned on your attraction, where the thoughts of male dominance directly lead to your pleasure.

A straight girl having that fantasy would be considered vanilla... but it suddenly becomes kinky when you imagine yourself as a lesbian.

Apply with photo of your leaky wet pussy, medical proof of fertility, voice recording of your girliest, feminine moans, and a written note on why you would make a good trad wife.

You should casually bring up topics related to your body to let him know what you have, and to get him thinking about your femininity. For example, talking about cramps (whether you still have them or not), how you're not strong enough and need to work out more, or that you find men attractive. Make sure to describe your type as someone who looks like him.

I absolutely love that feeling on the other side too.

Ooh I'd love to know more details about this, anon. Could you tell us how you found the person, what the experience was like, and whether you got wet from serving cock?

Isn't it powerful to be confronted with the manhood you denounce and claim as evil? Does it feel good to literally lick the tool of your oppression and give in? Do you finally realize that the sex you've been having is nowhere near as powerful without a penis?

I'd love to bend you over, doggy-style, while she has her legs spread and her fingers rubbing.

I'd tell her how wet you are while I finger you, as you moan into the bed, too embarrassed to look up at her.

Then, as I'm rubbing the tip of my cock on your pussy, I'd grab a fistful of your hair so you can look into her eyes.

I wonder what she'd see in you when you take cock like a real woman for the first time.