necromancer-girldick

[necromancer-girldick]

Trans girlie's open this

You're such a good girl! Listening to commands over the internet? Adorable, so fucking adorable. You're truly nothing but a good girl arent you?

[necromancer-girldick]

I need to get pinned to a wall by another girl. I need to have her bearing over me, taller then me, a cruel expression on her face as she's obviously reveling in my weakness. I need a strong grip wrapped around my neck as her other wanders freely, grabbing teasing and pulling as she sees fit. I want to hear her laugh at my stiffening member, I need her to crush it and tease me and laugh again as I begin silently crying and I need her to stuff her cock down my throat and

This is all because I'm sexually normal and well adjusted, by the way ^^

[necromancer-girldick]

the only purpose of such a tiny useless cock is to look pretty and leak all over your stomach while I use your warm hole as a fleshlight

[necromancer-girldick]

[necromancer-girldick]

do you think that alcoholic chick from bocce the rock lets it swang or does she have enough self control to tuck that thang into some shorts

You're in lalaland if you think that woman wears anything else underneath that green dress

[necromancer-girldick]

[necromancer-girldick]

The soggy!

[necromancer-girldick]

results

When the war began, you were just another girl with some survivability implants and a multiprofile flight armor. Six months later, you were the only girl like you left alive, and your handler granted carte blanche to keep you that way. You got results.

Command authorized better hardware, and then they made more like you. You found ways to keep up, nastily clever applications of metastable metallic hydrogen ammo and supermag deflectors that the newbies didn’t see.

Your handler kept you on a leash, metaphorical, for a time literal (that month she decided to add some testosterone analog into your blood mix and you begged to fuck everything or break it or both). Instead of their handlers, the newbies imprinted on you.

Command sent you new toys. Ansible links, Charybdis torpedoes, dark new wings with strange new engines. You missed the roar and rumble of turbines, but the raucous howls of your bloodthirsty flock replaced the noise that discontinuity thrusters didn’t make. You got results.

You pushed back the other, shattered their aces and sent their broken armors back to Command. Your handler vanished and came back with augments that almost let her keep up with you physically, at least inside the carrier.

Someone had to keep you in line, she said, slamming your unarmored form against a bulkhead, your implants reprogramming themselves to broadcast your submission through the fleet. You slicked yourself with fluids and begged for her to take you, to make you more of a weapon.

The next sortie, frenzied with excitement, you cracked the penultimate stronghold of the enemy like an egg. Ready for the final push, your techs unpacked crates of novel photonic scythes, connectivity cores, Indeterminate-Range Missiles, bolted them to you and your flight.

The last defenses crumpled in ways they could not understand coming. The last opposing pilots provided minute spectral variations as you turned them into blazes of mostly white light. You got results.

Command ordered the carrier home. Job well done, they said. It’s over now. Your handler gave you certain orders. They were orders you wanted. The carrier returned to port; port was unprepared for your flight to launch inside, unprepared for the horrors they’d been sending you.

Command didn’t last ten minutes. You wanted to leave the place a crater, until your handler cinched her virtual claws around your neck by ansible and showed you her ultimate goal in the ruins.

A delightful challenge, shucking your flight armor, ramping down to levels of speed and splash damage that would leave human techs alive to do what needed to be done. You howled in the corridors like the monster they called you.

They did it, the survivors, the project lead swearing at you the whole time; your accelerator pistol never wavered from the back of her head until you saw your handler wake.

Your handler flexed healing muscle over new implants afterwards, donned flight armor for the first time. She might never be as agile or as vicious as you were in combat. She didn’t need to be. She had you, by the brain, and she would never, ever permit a fair fight.

Your carrier lifted again. The world of her, your, all of your flock’s ultimate origin awaited, some unfathomable distance away. You would show them how you got results. □

[necromancer-girldick]

tf2 is a good game

[necromancer-girldick]

Women tell me I'm hyper-specialized for the niche of being kicked in the ribs. Unfortunately, it's a crowded niche nowadays, and since I'm so dependent on this specific mode, I'm being outcompeted by more generalized species that are able to subsist even if only kicked in the teeth or by having their limbs broken. Sad!

[necromancer-girldick]

clothing ads for trans men are like “FINALLY! affordable Gender inclusive clothes for ALL genders!!” (not trans women)

clothing ads for trans women are like “SISSY FEMBOY TRAP SHEMALE PANTIES ARRIVES IN DISCREET PACKAGING FOR MALE CROSSDRESSERS”

[necromancer-girldick]

Does does does aaaanyone have the picture of that anime girl using her robot gf as a bong where she's got the lighter behind her gfs butt aaaaand her gfs dick in her mouth cuz how else do you smoke weed out of a girl?

[necromancer-girldick]

Any slimegirls out there wanna get their brains scrambled?

[necromancer-girldick]

I hope some of you have had violent and/or sexual thoughts about me today

[necromancer-girldick]

Alright as most of you can probably tell I really do like to talk about kinks and fetishes. I think that there is a severe lack of creativity in the kink and fetish community. So I just wanna talk about one of the kinks I think is staggeringly set in stone for what people think of.

Bimbofication

So let's start with what bimbofication is.

Bimbofication is a kink where you turn someone, generally a girl, into a bimbo. This is usually done through hypnosis and training.

My main issue is with what people think of when they hear the word bimbo. Usually they assign certain terms to describe a bimbo, hyperfeminine, submissive, dumb, ditzy, confident and horny. When you see bimbos you'll usually see women with massive fake breasts and pumped lips. The only problem I have with this is the fact that people think that bimbos must be submissive. But I also want you to change what you think a bimbo can be.

So to start let's call that image Bimbo Barbies, who perform hyperfemininity. Now lets change the basic idea of a bimbo to simply dumb, ditzy, confident, horny and hyper-.

Hyper- could be anything you want. You could have bimbo goths, who are confident and have a one track mind that tends to lead back to sex. people who cover their body in nothing but black clothes with blood red accents, who would wear a black wedding dress to walmart, who are obsessed with creepy and morbid things. Who perform gothness to a extreme level.

You could do so much more, hyper-gamers who unashamedly wear video game merch and maybe they forget to shower as they grind ranked games. Hyperpunks, who are willing to strip down to nothing in protests for bodily autonomy and isn't ashamed of body hair or flab or scars loving every single part of their body because covering it in clothes and makeup is what society expects.

Bimbofication isn't a rare kink but frankly it tends to push gender norms and is generally uncreative. Always remember that if you like the idea of a kink but don't like any of the content, it probably means you have a unique appreciation for it.

[necromancer-girldick]

Sorry for picturing you covered in blood. It will happen again.

[necromancer-girldick]

necromancy is the best and sexiest school of magic and you’ll never change my mind