phlebaphobia

[phlebaphobia]

What a surprise a tfem dom who doesn't ever dom tfems

God forbid I fuck a transmasc, everyone dogpile me because I haven’t specifically posted about another transfem (besides the women who tops me/the other transfem who’s virginity I took) god forbid I post about my husband and current sexual partners

[phlebaphobia]

Crazy watching the girl, who’s virginity I took at 18, turn 21 today,

Is this what it feels like to be a proud parent?

[phlebaphobia]

One of the few reblogs from my other account cause this feels more like something freaks on this side of things would enjoy

My step-dad raped me from when I was 8-14. He also groomed me and convinced me it was a normal relationship. He usually took me on weekend trips to his cabin, so he could do whatever he wanted without anyone knowing. Sometimes he raped me when I was asleep too. I know this because one time I pretended to fall asleep and he fingered me open, spread my legs, and forced his cock in my pussy.

Good job sharing princess! So normal about this I promise,

Question though, these cabin trips were you presenting masc at the time? Was it like a ‘father son cabin bonding trip’ kind of thing? Like this is a father son relationship thing and this is natural and we go out to the cabin and do boy stuff?

[phlebaphobia]

POSITIVES of my weight gain: My face looks cute rn instead of like scary and gaunt

NEGATIVES of my weight gain: AHGHFHHHHHH AGHHHHHHHHH AGHHHHHHHJGJHKNHHHHH

[phlebaphobia]

Going to a crusing event tonight, will be transmasc baiting so hard, Cuts will be out, chest will be bound, my dick is small enough when flaccid to look like a packer, will be filling in my mustache,

Let’s see who we can bamboozle this evening

[phlebaphobia]

Appetizer

Senior girl who only has one period a week she actually has to show up for, going around to every freshman class under the guise of looking to TA, really moving from classroom to classroom looking for this years Moulard;

Inspecting the incoming gaggles like one might a new car,

No way to know if you like it until you get inside and take it for a spin, she thinks to herself as she walks down the rows of skewed desks, searching for her ugly duckling,

After searching through 5 periods of axe body spray, unflossed braces, and obnoxious online slang she's not in the know about, like a lily through the reeds, it emerges,

Short in stature, maybe 5’1-2, frizzy dark curls falling just past its shoulders, thick wiry glasses, ill fitting of its face shape, perched atop a beaked and lightly freckled nose, dark hazelnut eyes darting this way and that, never staying in one place too long, as if worried it’s gaze too intrusive, lips soft and full, teeth white, and free of any unwanted tech, it’s features, just beginning to harden, yet still so soft and under defined,

She’s caught herself staring and moves to the back of the class, sitting down in an empty seat two rows behind her perspective nestling,

She watches as the girl shifts in its seat, she wonders if the nervous foot tapping is caused solely by the fact that it’s the fowls first day at a new school, or if her 6’3 stature in room barley breaking 5’7, only because of the teacher, a spindly woman with no ability to control her class, unnerved the little poult,

Class is short, first day periods always are, 45 minute blocks cut out for seating charts, syllabi and, of course,

“A fun little ice breaker game used to get to know everyone’s names and a little more about each other”

She learns the little cygnets name is Astrid, it’s favorite color is green, it’s favorite food are strawberries, and that it prefers cats to dogs,

The word “dog” sends her flashes of the previous years Moulard, the one that hadn’t lasted long, a taller, lankier girl with a short bob, of how hard she’d pulled against that collar, how the little tags jingled as it scratched and clawed at it’s throat, leaving such deep maroon gashes, before it’s arms would fall limp at its sides, how red and then purple its face had turned before she had finally released her grip and let the poor girl collapse beneath her, it’d been fun, what an eager heron it and been, a little too eager,

She wasn’t completely without blame herself, she’d let the little chick push her buttons, and when it had turned up at mommy and daddy’s with bloody teeth marks on its throat visible in the low cut yellow top she had so enjoyed seeing its body convulse in,

From there, it hadn’t taken them long to find the rest of her bites, features of individual teeth still distinguishable, she wondered what faces its parents made as they forced it to undress, just as she had, did they scream? Did they cry? As they discovered her work? The word WHORE slashed in deep bold letters over its womb, still weeks from fully scarring over, the groves of cigarette burns that peppered its boney torso,

Then the inquisition started, to its credit it hadn’t broken, it never gave up a name, she guessed after everything she’d put it through no amount of prying or “punishment” it’s parents could think up had much effect on it,

Last she’d heard it’s parents had sent it to an all girls private catholic school, that part had stung a bit, knowing the toy she’d trained and refined would now be gobbled up by someone so undeserving, it had taken her months to break the bitch in and now some prissy rich snob would swoop in and reap what she had worked so hard to sew into it’s bobbed head,

She snaps back to attention as she hears her name,

“Lily,, wh-“ the teacher, a boney yet fat faced woman, starts, but does not finish,

“Yes, my name is Lily,” she says, standing and cutting off the wiry woman who she now remembers to be her freshman year algebra teacher, Mrs Pen,

“My favorite color is plum, my favorite food is Foie Gras, and I used to be a dog person, but I think I may be becoming more of a cat person”

Flashes of a little belled collar pulled tight against the neck of the cygnet cowering at her booming voice two seats in front of her dance in her mind, how it'll struggle, how it’ll shake, how its muffled cries will sound, fighting their way through a compressed trachea,

“and I’ll be assisting Mrs Pen during this period”

She shoots a glance over to Mrs Pen who’s relief at being told she’ll have an extra pair of hand is evident on her exhaustion and wrinkle riddled face,

She sits back down in her chair, and stares loving daggers into the back of the poults head, becoming intimately familiar with every lock and strand that cascades down its shoulders and onto its back, how its thin little fingers find their way into one specific loc, curled by so much time and effort against its natural curve, a secure little tangle, all its own,

She thinks of running her fingers through its soft down, how that tangle must smell, so much anxiety and uncertainty embedded into those fibers, through years of that soothing fidget, shed watched as its fingers swirled quicker with each auditory misstep, how it grips and tugs at each stutter and hesitation, she imagines how the strands would feel wrapped around her fingers, a tightening of the strings, feeling the tension of its scalp, feeling that little tangle strain hard against its roots,

Will it beg? She wonders,

For its tangle, the security of its nest, what is its loc worth? What will it offer up to her in its place?

She continues her unseen assault of the poult until the bell screams loud above her, standing quickly, she passes close to her cygnet, inhaling deep as she does, even through the clouds of bath and body works perfume, she finds its scent, studies and memorizes it, before the breath leaves her chest,

She wants to linger in it, to stop and take another deep breath, make sure no complexity is lost in the haze of artificial sweeteners that swirl around her head,

There will be plenty of time for that later, she thinks to herself as she approaches Mrs Pen’s desk and plasters on a practiced smile, nodding through what feels like an eternal conversation that boils down to grading, attendance, classroom management, and finally her favorite, private tutoring if necessary,

She watches the door as the gaggles gather and exit, taking note that, as her cygnet leaves, it leaves alone

[phlebaphobia]

your sister and you leave the party, both still feeling the haze from your earlier activities, though your mind is buzzing for different reasons. your mind is split between the glee of reunion and the shame of wanting. I mean, she’s your sister. you can’t let yourself cross that line, but how close to it could you risk nearing?

“which block is your dorm in, Mads?” you ask as the two of you descend the steps down to the street below, party still bustling behind you. 

“east.” she hops to the sidewalk from the second to last step. “c'mon, this way.”

“ughhhh… did you have to pick the dorm on the opposite end of campus?”

“it was the only block with solo dorms open!”

“you got a solo dorm??” envy drips from your voice as you ask. “but they're so much more expensive, how did you…?”

"jealous? I've even got my own bathroom!” she snickers to herself. “mom covered it, though.” she puffs up her chest a little bit. “covered all 4 years! just took a little… persuasion. I mean, how can I focus on studying if my roommate is being loud?” she sounds proud. 

“oh that's rich. you? studying?" you chuckle. “it's a miracle you made it here on time without me bailing you out on your assignments every night.” so many evenings spent helping her through page after page of neglected assignments due the next morning. oddly, you feel warm remembering it.

“yeah, well…” she pouts a little as she walks alongside you. “maybe I put the work in for once…” she looks away from you at nothing in particular. “I had to graduate on time.” there's a lingering determination in her voice.

“wait, really? you did that all yourself?” she nods softly as she walks. you snatch her from behind in a hug. “my baby sister finally acting responsible, I'm so proud!” you tease, though the feelings are genuine. 

“shut up.” she pouts.

“sorry, sorry…” you chuckle. “I mean it, though. you did great, I'm proud of you, Mads.” you pat her head.

“hmph…” 

a few moments pass, she doesn't shake your hand away. “you feelin' okay? usually you shake me off by now."

“whatever… it's cold out.” her pout is audible in her words, she sounds oddly shy compared to a few moments ago. 

“oh, you should've said so.” you release her from your hug before grabbing your toque off your head and fitting it snug on hers. it's big on her, so it goes down past her eyes at first. “pfft—sorry, here. lemme fix it for you.” you get in front of her and lean down to her face to pull the toque up past her eyes, finally being able to make eye contact with her again. you can't help but think about how cute she looks in your hat, her cheeks are all rosy, her eyes look so pretty at night… you stare for longer than you should, your own cheeks reddening before you realize how closely you're standing to her. you lurch back up and turn away from her, hoping desperately that your thoughts were quiet enough. you clear your throat. “better?” your voice hitches slightly.

“yeah…” hers does, too. “thanks.”

“no problem. c'mon, lets keep going.” 

the quiet of the evening is louder now, the moment has passed but it hangs over your head. you two walk in silence for a while, quiet broken by the passing of cars and the chirps of crickets in the bushes. you keep slipping, you need to get a grip. it's not even been a week, and those long buried feelings are clawing their way back to the forefront of your mind. how much more can you take…?

“oh, hey! I almost forgot there's a park on campus.” you snap out of your haze as she speaks. “y'know… it's a pretty nice night for a sit by the water.” 

“thought you wanted to go hang out in your dorm?”

“I do, but wouldn't it be fun to go chill for a while?” she looks off towards the still water. “we could talk, y'know? catch up a bit. maybe hit your pen a lil' more…”

you snicker. “welcome back, Mads. was wondering where you went.”

“fuck off, like you don't want to.”

“I dunno… I'm feeling a little tired.” you lie.

“c’mon, Claire. I thought you were a stoner now, isn’t smoking in scenic parks at night like, your guys' entire m.o.?”

“alright, yes, but…” you trail off, remembering when the students association surveyed everyone on what to fill this space with. you voted for a parking lot, hoping that it’d make your upcoming parking pass renewal cheaper. you figured everyone was too busy studying to actually appreciate it. looking back, the price wouldn't have changed either way.

you look out over the water now, maybe it’s just the drugs or the alcohol or just relief from leaving that party, but you're glad your vote didn't sway it. the water ripples gently from the breeze, the moonlight dances across its glittering surface. compared to the party, the quiet is serene. it really is the perfect night for sitting by the water, but… you look at Mads. the way the moonlight catches her eyes, the wind flowing through her hair just so. she’s beautiful, she’s everything, she’s… why did she have to be your sister? can you keep your feelings contained, if you went down there with her?

“Claire…?” what if you let more slip out? you’ve gotten lucky so far. “Claire?” what if she figures it out, would she hate you? “Claire.” she came all this way, you can’t ruin university for her, she only just got here—

“CLAIRE!!!!!” you get grabbed by the shoulders and shaken back to earth. “girl, you’re spacing out worse than ever, I thought you were on meds now!!”

“the—ey wear o—off!!” you blurt out while you’re being shaken. she stops now that she’s got a response from you, you shake your head a bit. “I had class early today, I can’t help it!!”

“some of us are trying to hang out!!” she huffs. “c’mon…would it be so bad to enjoy the night a little?" she's pouting a little, but it doesn't seem like she's trying to push your buttons for once.

“well…” you crack. like always. “alright, sure. I guess I didn't said I'd walk you straight to your dorm, did I?”

“snrk—you can't do anything straight, girl." she grabs your wrist. “c'mon!”

“Mads—!” you protest, despite knowing she's right. as she drags you down to the water, you find yourself giggling. you've missed this feeling, going on the little adventures she'd drag you into, never knowing which way she'll take you next. your time with her is always full of surprise, isn't it?

she drags you from the street, pulling you through the trees as you two approach the water. going downhill with her pulling you like this is messing with your already poor balance. your foot catches on a tree root and you tumble down to the ground, your chest bounces off the grass.

“ohhh shit, you okay Claire?”

“I'm fine,” your strained voice exposes your lie. you start to push yourself up off the ground, your arms are wobbling and your tits burn like hell. “I just… gotta get back u—” 

you're interrupted by a hand reaching down to your face. you follow the arm up to her face, she's looking down at you. her face is dark now that she's facing you, but can make out the glitter in her eyes and a soft, somewhat teasing smile. “I got you, Clairebear.” the moonlight shines through the foliage behind her head, you can't even feel the pain anymore. it must seem like such a small moment through her eyes, but in yours… 

guilt gnaws at your heart as you reach a shaking hand to hers, sickened by how you see the stars in those little green eyes. “t—thanks, Mads…” you take her hand and she helps pull you up, struggling a bit with your size advantage.

“now hurry up, I want to sit by the water.” ah. she's back again. 

you giggle as she pulls you along once again. you step as carefully as you can down to the edge of the pond. you thud back onto the ground, resting your elbow on your knee as you get comfortable.

Mads lands hard on the grass, splaying out on her back. “aaaahhhh…” she exaggerates a long, weary sigh. “this is a pretty nice campus, Claire. I see why you came here.”

“it has its moments.” you chuckle a little at her.

“hey, so…”

“I know, here.” you pull your pen out of your pocket and pass it to her. “try not to choke on it this time, alright?”

“ughhh I'll be careful, mom.” you've heard those exact words so many times before, hell this isn't even the first time they were pointed at you, but they carry a new weight, now. she pulls on the pen for a few moments while you wallow in the memories brought to the surface. she exhales carefully, before stifling a few small coughs at the end. 

“not bad, kiddo.” you stifle a giggle, you know she hates it when you call her that. “probably shouldn't be proud of that, should I?”

"fuck off, you're only a couple years older than me." she stifles a few more coughs. “you are, though? proud I mean.”

“generally or about you smoking?”

“both.”

“well, I feel a little guilty about the weed, but… admittedly I kinda always wanted to do this with you." you fidget a bit with your hands. “speaking of which, quit hogging it.”

“pfft, sorry, jeez. here." she giggles a bit and grabs your wrist, opening your palm and smacking it back into it.

“harsh.” you bring it to your lips and take a drag, holding for a few moments before you exhale. “aside from that, though… of course I'm proud of you, Mads. you've come a long way since I last saw you." her cheeks look a little redder, now. 

you go to pull again on your pen, thinking about how much things have changed since then. your eyes clench a bit as your thoughts drift back to your mother, the night it all came out, losing it all. you accepted their scorn, you'd rather be you alone than forced back into the mask, but… now Mads is here with you, too. in a way, it feels like you dragged her down with you.

“Claire?” she snaps you back, again. “it's blinking.”

you look at your pen, light around the base flashing red. you'd forgotten you were hitting it. as realization strikes your throat ignites with the burn your thoughts had been suppressing. you cough it all out, hacking like it was your first hit.

“oh, girl… I thought you could take it, Clairebear?”

“fuck—” you continue coughing. “—off, Mads.”

“I mean… should hit you pretty hard, at least.”

“yeah… you're probably right—" you stifle a few more coughs. “how are you feeling?"

“nice… really calm.” she looks off towards the water once again. “what about you?”

“I'm fine, I've had it worse than this.” your head starts to feel a little fuzzy, it's been a while since you hit it for that long.

“not just that, Claire. you've been zoning out all night… something on your mind?”

your heart skips a beat as she asks, of course she noticed. how do you explain it without making her think you're some kind of freak? “I—I…” you're stammering again, get a grip. “I just… why are you here, Mads?” you could've said that better.

“ouch. thought you'd be excited." she scoffs, deflating a bit at your answer.

“no, I—I just meant…” the weed isn't helping your lack of words, and you feel awful for making her feel like that. “I came cause I could afford it… and the acceptance letter came quick.” you don't hide your dejection well, it's been a couple years now but that wound still aches. you sigh. “I love that you're here, I was so excited when you told me, but… why did you come?” you pull your knee in closer to your chest. “mom could've sent you to any school you asked for, even the ivy leagues. so why—?”

“obviously I came here to see you?” she sits up, looking at you confused as though it's that simple. “plus, I didn't want to get drilled at some fancy school… it sounds like a pain.” she looks out towards the water. “and… it wouldn't be fair to you.”

don't ruin your makeup. don't ruin your makeup. you wrench back the mist in your eyes and grit your teeth. “it wasn't your fault, Mads…” you grip your knee tight. “you shouldn't hold yourself back, just for me…”

“who says it's just for you?” she's got that fire in her eyes again. “it was my choice to come here, I didn't do it out of pity, alright? I did it cause I missed you." she speaks firmly, she's serious about this. her words linger in the air, echoing through your mind.

the fight against your own tears gets harder, you forgot how much you missed these talks with her, how sweet she is to you whenever you need to hear it. “Mads…”

she catches herself. “sorry, I don't mean to get upset, it's just…” she trails off again, tracing circles in the grass with her finger. “when mom kicked you out, I was… terrified, Claire.” she looks away from you.

“I—” your breath is shaking. “me too, Mads…" the memory sears you as you recollect it, those feelings still white hot as though it were yesterday. “I wasn't sure if we'd ever get to see each other again…”

“do you remember our last hug, before you left for the airport?”

you chuckle softly. “I do… wanted to pick you up and carry you out the door with me.”

“I know,” she puts a hand over yours. your heart skips a beat. “I know... I wish you could’ve. I missed you…” she looks… broken. like she hasn’t finished grieving you.

“I… I missed you too, Mads.” your voice comes out airy, swept up in the emotions her words stirred in your heart. "thank you… for coming here, I mean."

“it's nothing…” she giggles a bit. “I had to attend somewhere, thought I'd have some fun with it, at least.”

“you could've taken a gap year, done some travelling.” you snicker. “knowing you, you'd convince mom to let you backpack through Europe on her dime. make her believe it's for your studies, somehow.”

she laughs. “I could've, yeah. wouldn't have been hard." she looks back toward the water. “I'm happy with my choice, though.”

“…me too.”

the two of you sit there in silence for a while, enjoying your buzz and the calm of the park around you. crickets chirp between the blades of grass, the wind rustles the leaves in the trees and ripples the water calmly. it's not usually this quiet when you hang out with her, is it?

“hey, question.”

“shoot.”

“do you know any smoke tricks? like… any you could teach me?”

you burst out laughing. “you just want to hit it again, Mads.”

“you didn't say no.”

“alright, yeah… I got one. its basic, but watch.” you take a drag from your vape, letting the last bit pool in your mouth. you look at her and open your mouth, inhaling the smoke through your nose in a loop before exhaling it all back smoothly through the mouth.

“whoa, lemme try!”

“alright, alright…” you shouldn't be letting her hit it this much, but you've loosened up a lot from all the puffing, and she's handling it well, isn't she? “lemme give you some pointers.” you clear your throat. “let the last bit collect in your mouth, and when you pull it in through the nose, just breath in. don't try to force it out of your mouth.” you hand her the pen. “oh, and don't try this with a flavoured pen unless you want to sneeze until your nose stings.”

“you're weirdly responsible for being such a stoner.” she takes the pen from you.

“just shut up and try it.”

following your advice, she pulls in, manages to pull a bit through her nose, and exhales. she's trying very hard not to cough, it's adorable. “how was that?” her voice is strained.

“it's okay to cough, y'know. you look like you're gonna burst." she coughs near immediately as you finish your sentence. “you did better than I did my first time! I couldn't grasp that you can't inhale and exhale at the same time for a while.” you laugh at yourself a little. “I'm not great with tricks, still can't blow O's no matter how hard I try.”

“y'know, one time at a party, I saw these two girls smoking together outside… one of them took a drag and grabbed the other by the hair, blew the smoke right down her throat." 

“that's hot.” why the fuck did you say that. “I—I mean, uh—”

“pfft,” she giggles at your sudden embarrassment. “you're right though, it was. I want to learn how to do that.”

“me too, actually… I've never tried it.”

your words hang in the air for a moment, you're suddenly intimately aware of the quiet around you.

“y'know…” she breaks the silence. “we could, like… practice it, if you wanted.” 

“wh—” your breath trembles. “practice it…? like—”

“yeah, like try it out.” she cuts you off. “it's not like it's a big deal.”

“I—I mean…” you're stammering, fighting against odds to conceal how this is making you feel. you look around, surveying for prying ears. “there's no way we could, Mads… I—I mean, we're sisters…” 

“exactly, we're sisters, so it wouldn't be weird. it's not like we're making out or anything.” she huffs a little. “c'mon…we're just trying to learn for later, right? would you want to fuck it up in the moment with the first girl you manage to lay before graduating?”

“you don't know I haven't…” you lie softly, you know she does. “… I—I guess not, no.”

“exactly.” she crosses her legs and swivels to face you. “c'mon, it's just practice.”

just practice. is it really, though? can it be ‘just practice’ to you? can you be normal about this? could anyone…? “I—I… right, just practice.” you can already feel the blush creep across your cheeks as you turn to face her. “I—um… how should we…?”

“give me your pen, I'll start.” she holds a hand out expectantly.

“r—right, sure…” you put the pen in her hands. you watch as she raises it to her lips and begins pulling on it, trying not to panic. time feels like it slows down, you know what she's going to do when she stops hitting it. just be normal, Claire. do you even remember how to, now? what if she can tell how much you're gonna enjoy it?

she pulls the vape out from between her lips. oh god, she's going to do it. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight, you're stiff as a board. can you really do this? she gestures for you to come closer, before getting impatient and grabbing the back of your neck. “breathe.” she commands, you can only oblige.

she pulls you in and locks your lips with hers. they're soft, warm, hers… she forces the smoke down into your lungs, you quiver as you breathe deep from her. you don't want it to end, fuck you want to stick your tongue in her mouth, but… shit, you're not being normal about this at all. her breath fills your lungs, it feels just as warm as her lips. she pulls away, to your dismay, and sits staring at you for a moment.

“Claire. breathe.” shit, right. your breath stutters as you finally release the smoke. did that really just happen…? “jeez, that good, huh?”

“I—I… sorry, I just—” your voice trembles, barely audible against the soft splashes of the pond. “t—that was… I—I've never—”

“what?” her face lights up, she has a mischievous look in her eye. “aw, don't tell me that was your first kiss?” you pull both your knees in, even with them covering your face, you're beet red. “awh… that's adorable, Clairebear.” she coos, mockingly. “your first kiss was your own little sister, I dunno if that makes you a pervert or just sad.”

“god, shut up! you were the one who wanted to do it!” you fire back, you're steaming in your own embarrassment. you know it's both.

“you could've said no.” 

“I tried to??”

“oh, yeah. you could've tried harder.”

“don't make this my fault…” you continue hiding your face. “I've already got hell to pay when mom finds out."

“she wont, I wont let her." she snickers. “god, you're such a dork." there's a tinge of affection in her words as she speaks.

you whimper and retreat further into your legs. you know it's not normal to react like this, but you can't help it. what even is normal for this situation? do normal sisters do this? you're not sure which answer makes you dizzier.

“hey… it's okay, Claire. I got nervous after my first kiss too.” you peek out from your knees, she's giving you a soft smile, she means it. “sorry, didn't mean to overwhelm you.”

“it's fine…” you mumble into your knees. you pull your face up again, the breeze is a welcome relief to your burning cheeks. “you did?”

“yeah…” she laughs. “got dared to kiss another girl in middle school. it was just a little peck, but she acted so grossed out by it right after." she flinches slightly as she remembers. “guess it was only a big moment for me…” she grips her wrist tight, clearly pained by the memory.

“do you want me to fight her.”

“pfft—” she erupts in laughter, throwing her head back. “yeah? you're gonna fight her? should I call her up, tell her to meet us by the playground?” she still can't help but laugh at sudden jokes like those, you always loved getting her like that.

“I'll fuckin' do it. I'd win.”

“Claire you're big but you're too soft to hurt anything. you'd put her under a cup and carry her outside.” she teases.

"yeah… you're right." you snicker. “made you laugh, though.”

she giggles. “…thanks.” she sighs and gets to her feet, taking a second to pat the dirt off her ass. you look for longer than you should. she turns to face you and reaches a hand down to help you up. “c'mon, it's getting cold, lets head to my dorm.”

“yeah, good idea.” you take her hand and she pulls you to your feet. “y'know I can get up on my own, yeah? seems like such a struggle for you.”

“yeah, I know.” she grabs your wrist and pulls you off with her. “it's this way, just up the path I think.”

the two of you walk up the path through the trees, swaying happily after all of the hits you took. you reach the street once again and cross it to the block just opposite the park. 

“home sweet home!” she pulls out her keys and unlocks the outer door. “well, almost there atleast.”

“still can't believe you got one of the nice dorms. fuckin' jealous, y'know.”

“I deserve it.” you agree. “what, is your roommate that bad?” she snickers at you as you enter the block. 

“she's great! I just like having my own space…” 

“chin up Claire, only a couple more years.” you two make it to the stairs and start climbing. “you can always come hang out in mine, if you want.”

your heart beats loud. “sounds nice…” you two climb a few floors and enter into the hallway, walking to her door.

she unlocks it and swings the door open. “here we aaaare!” she cheers as she puts her keys up on the little hook. she hops over to her bed and flicks a switch, the room lighting up as the string lights surrounding it flick on in unison. “so? what do you think?”

it reminds you of her old room at home. she's got all her stuffies lining the bed, she brought her cork board with all those photos of her with her friends, there's a lot with you and her on it. she's got her band posters taped up too. the nostalgia is almost overwhelming, the resemblance is so similar, you feel just as safe in here as you did at home. “it's perfect, Mads.”

“damn right it is!!” she has a proud smile on her face as she flops down onto the bed.

“small, though.” it's a shoe box, about half as big as her bedroom back at home. “I like it, it's the cozy kind of small.”

“thought you would.” she gets comfortable in bed. “oh, hey! check out the bathroom too!”

“oh god that's right, you suck." envy drips from your voice as you speak. you walk into the bathroom and flick the light on. it's tiny, but it's a functional, private, non-communal bathroom. for one person. “make me a copy of your key. I'm coming here to shower from now on."

“pfft—” she giggles at your forwardness. “Claire? is that you?” she smiles at you. “they told us not to do that.”

“like you give a shit about the rules, c'mon.” 

“alriiight, fine. only cause you're cute when you get demanding.” this girl is going to give you a heart attack. “I get priority, though. if only one of us can shower it's me.”

“a—alright, yeah, fair. as long as I can use it I'm happy.” you chuckle, you didn't actually expect that to work, or for her to say that. “actually, could I use it now? I haven't since we got to the party.”

“oh! yeah, sure…” something about her tone changes, but you can't place it. “I'm gonna get changed while you do that.”

“alright, thanks.” you try not to lament missing it as you close the bathroom door. as you unzip your pants and start to take care of your business, you idly glance around the room, still amazed at the idea of a private bathroom. you gaze over at the counter around the sink, she's got all her makeup lined out, her toothbrush, h—her birth control…? you struggle to contain your shock, why would she need this? why else would she need this…? you flush quickly and walk back to the counter to wash your hands. you try, but you can't keep yourself from glancing at it. fuck, she's been taking it for over a week, at least… stop. be normal. you want to splash some water in your face, before catching your makeup in the mirror, you can't mess it up. you dry your hands off quickly and rush out of the bathroom, unaware you're running into another test.

you burst back into the dorm proper to find your sister in the midst of changing, you were so distracted you'd forgotten she'd said that. she's wearing one of your old boy shirts, she's swimming in it. she's bent over right now, pulling up a pair of fluffy PJ shorts. she glances back towards you. “oh, welcome back.” she says nonchalantly. she's… wearing… oh god. be normal, you can't, fuck. your hands fly up to your eyes, you can't look.

“fuck, shit, s—sorry, Mads! I—I,”

“Claire you're a girl now, remember? chill out, it's fine.”

“o—oh. right…” you pulls your hands away from your eyes to catch her pull the shorts up. there's no question, it's those panties… fuck. fuck. 

“god, Claire, you don't have to look so embarrassed about it.” she's looking back at you now. “it's fine, really. we're both girls, right?”

“y—yeah…” she knows as well as you that doesn't change anything. “still getting used to it, I guess…”

“you were like this when you came out, too.” she snickers as she sits down on the foot of the bed. “so nervous, always worried you were crossing lines. it's alright though, I'll keep reminding you until it sticks.” she smiles sweetly at you, before looking at you confused. “d'you need an invitation, or are you gonna sit?”

“right, sorry…” you step over and sit on the bed, looking awkwardly away from her. you can't get the image of it out of your mind. 

“no need to be sorry, Claire.” she reminds you. you look over at her, she looks happy to have you here. she groans as she reaches an arm up to stretch, probably sore from all the walking. her shirt rides up a touch as she does, you see a bit of her midriff, she looks soft… your eyes wander downwards, her shorts are loose, fuck you can see them again. you look back up at Mads, she's looking at you.

“I—”

“were you…?”

“n—no, I—” your cheeks redden.

her eyes widen, a devious smirk curls the corners of her mouth. “oh my god, you totally were!” she laughs at you. “oh my god, Claire, you're such a perv!!” she's right, you feel the guilt twist your stomach. you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I—I…” you're stammering. fuck, you can't deny it. “I'm s—sorry, I just—” 

“oh my god, you're totally hard right now, aren't you?” 

your eyes shoot back open. you can feel it… “I,” you cover your lap. fuck. you knew you wouldn't hold out, but you still tried…

“no, let me see…”

“w—what?” you look at her shocked, your face a deep crimson. “no, Mads… I—”

she crawls closer to you across the bed, you crawl away until you're backed against her headboard. “c'mon, Clairebear, don't tell me you're nervous now? you got something to hide?” she coos as she approaches, your head is spinning.

“Mads…” your breath stutters, she's getting so close. “t—this isn’t funny anymore…”

“who says I'm trying to be?” she's crawling into your lap now.

this can't be happening, can it? “wh—?” she puts a hand over your mouth.

“you're a shitty liar, you know that?” you whimper against her hand. “god, you know you can't hide anything from me. why would this be any different?” fuck. fuck.

“mmpds…” you try to say her name, you can't—

“quiet.” she commands. you whimper as she order reaches your ear, it makes you burn. “I'm done with you playing pretend around me. it's just you and me now, Clairebear… give me the truth.” she takes her hand off your mouth and reaches into your lap to grab your wrists, pulling them up and pinning them next to your head. “awh… look at you, you just can't hide it, can you?” she straddles your waist, pressing her hips down on your bulge. she's grinding on your… oh god.

"holy shit, Mads…" your breath hitches as you try pathetically to speak. “I—I can't, we can't... c—can we...?”

"bullshit." she releases one of your hands and grips your chin, eyeing you like a starving animal. "I know need when I see it, and girl you are drowning in it." she lowers in closer to you, settling in the crook of your neck, panting hungrily on your collar. "I can feel how hot you are, y'know. how hard that pretty cock of yours is for your own fucking sister." she bites down on your neck.

you squeal, writhing against her jaws. she can read you like a book, she always could. you thought, you hoped, you could protect her from this. "Mads—" your breath quivers.

"you're throbbing, Clairebear..." she coos into your ear, her innocent tone makes you burn down your length. this isn't happening. it can't be, can it? you must have passed out at the party, its a dream. it's a nightmare. it'd be so much simpler if it were, wouldn't it? "you think we can't? do you really think that...?" she licks your neck, you whimper like a dog. “c'mon, answer me.”

you grit your teeth, your panties are soaked, you're scalded by the heat of your depraved need. you want to give in, fuck you want to give her anything she'd ask. "I—" your eyes keep watering, you have to try even if it hurts. even if you want it more than the air in your lungs. "Mads—we... we can't go back, I can't—" your lip is quivering, your breath shakes, you're so, so scared. "if you regret it, I—" you can't hold back the tears anymore, your feelings are just too loud. 

"I can't lose you, Mads, p—please... no one's ever been as nice to me a—as you." you choke on your sobs between words. "you're alwa—ays there for me, you ca—ame all this way for me… I can't fuck this up li—ike everything else!" you ball her tank top in your fists. 

"I lo—ove you... so, so much… how can I risk that...?" you crumble into her chest, sobbing. it's warmer, now. “I just got you back, Ma—ads. I can’t lo—ose you again…”

her grip softens on your chin. she slides her hand up your face, caressing it tenderly as your push into her loving hand. you grab at her wrist, gripping it tight, you're desperate to keep her warmth close, for as long as you can.

"oh, Claire…" her voice is shaking now, too. "I—I didn't want to overwhelm you like this... I just," she puts a hand through your hair and runs her nails along your scalp, remembering how soothing it is for you. "I'm sorry, Clairebear... I—I thought you wanted this..." her confidence crumbles at your display, the shame in her voice mirrors yours.

“I do!! I wa—ant it so bad!! That’s the worst fu—ucking part!!” you shout through gritted teeth, bawling into her chest as the words erupt from your trembling mouth. “I’ve kept this in for so long…” your arms tremble as you hold her closer, you squeeze your eyes tight. “I tried so hard but I—I... I couldn’t bury it. fuck Mads, I’m s—so sorry…” your guilt spills over, it crushes you more now than ever. You were supposed to protect her from anything, be the good big sister, but you couldn’t even protect her from your own desire, from yourself. you've ruined so, so much.

you sit there for what feels like eternity, sobbing pathetically into the one you hurt so irreparably. you grip desperately onto her shirt, a silent plea, begging her not to abandon you. like the rest of your family, like your own mother, you can't lose her too. she pushes your head back gently til you can look her in the eye. she wipes your tears away with her thumb. “I’ve got you, Claire…” she giggles softly. “what’d I tell you about ruining my hard work, hm?”

Her casual tone shocks you out of your spiral of shame. you light up, sobs now broken up with your own giggles. “t—that’s what you have to say to me??”

“made you laugh, though.” she smiles at you, stroking your face with her thumb. her expression shifts slightly, eyes full of worry. “it’s been eating you alive, hasn’t it?” your sobs grow louder as she asks, you can only nod. she casts a gentle gaze over you, as though caressing a broken toy. “it’s okay, Clairebear… you won't lose me, no matter what you say. you're stuck with me.” she's serious. the smile on her face is so genuine... is this really okay...? "I want to hear the truth.. please, Claire. I want to hear what you want… not what the world wants from you." what... you want...?

you sit there trembling beneath her as you think about how everything would change, about how you could never, ever move on. about the scrutiny and secrecy that'll be the jagged bedrock of this new life, should you choose it. you think about how it could all go horribly wrong one day, how you'll callously sever your most cherished connection. it terrifies you, you clench your eyes shut.

you feel her cup your face. you open your eyes to look at hers, dewy and glistening from the moonlight pouring in through the window. she smiles at you, her expression radiates love. she looks just like she did when you came out to her all those years ago. just as warm, just as accepting.

could... she really... accept this, too...?

you grab her wrist tight, and squeeze your eyes shut. oh god, you can't turn back. "I—I," you speak in hushed whispers, you can't hear your own voice over your beating heart. "I want you, Mads..." you’re really doing this, things will never be the same. “Mads… don’t stop. please, please don't stop.” your breath quivers, before you is everything you’ve ever wanted, your wildest dreams… is this really okay? “I love you, Mads… I—I need you. please…” your life has been split into the before and after.

her breath quivers in tandem with yours. “can I kiss you…?”

you nod. oh god, you nod. “please…” your once perfect eyeliner runs in streaks down your face.

she pulls you by the back of the neck into a long kiss. you whimper into her mouth, breath shaking against hers. her lips are so soft, they taste so sweet to you. her lips, her hand on your neck, her… your mind spins. “my Clairebear…” your heart skips a beat, she pulls you into another kiss. she holds you there for a moment before she pulls back once again, she giggles at you. “you look pathetic.” she sounds hungry. “open your mouth for me." you nod and whimper before you comply. 

“Mads—” is all you manage to get out before she slams her lips against yours, her tongue working it's way inside. it spirals around yours as you moan obscenely into her mouth, she tastes like vodka and weed… just like you imagined. she starts grinding on your lap, your breath hitches as you feel her start to soak your lap. she pulls her tongue out of your mouth, staring at you fervently as you pant and whimper.

“Claire.” she growls, moaning through gritted teeth.

“mhm…?” words fail you as you ready yourself, your eyes are full of adoration.

“I need you to be a good girl.” she leans in close, putting a hand on your face. “can you do that for me, Clairebear?”

for her. for her.

“I—I,” your heart is pounding, your mind is racing. you can't string two words together, you've fallen hopelessly under her spell. “anything… a—anything…” you whimper as the words escape your lips, it's the only thing you can think, right now.

she looks like she's going to eat you alive. you hope she does.

[phlebaphobia]

Who would’ve guessed that a Pokémon coloring book would end up getting me deadnamed and sexually assaulted by a trusted parental figure,

Thank you Pikachu!!!

[phlebaphobia]

I keep trying to write smut with girls and then I get to the word girls and I get so excited that I just start humping the air and my entire brain shuts down

It’s been 27 hours and the only word in half my drafts is “sisters, women, girls, ladies”

😵‍💫

[phlebaphobia]

My father,

Who art inside me,

hollowed be my hole,,,,,

[phlebaphobia]

Trying to be horny but all I can see is a mother eating her miscarriage on repeat,

Hunched over this bloody ball, trying so desperately to get it back in her tummy, just a few more months, it just needs to be back in her tummy,

The wet crunch of unformed bone, the soft squelch of unborn tissue, the glazed empty look in her eyes,

Slumped against the corner, mouth and hands stained with coagulation, rubbing her tummy and softly humming, just a few more months she thinks

[phlebaphobia]

It’s been so long since I’ve had a tboy cry on my chest and I miss it so bad! Not even like a sex crying thing literally just having a man feel safe enough with me that he’s able to drop all of those walls and show me this side of him,

I’m still always drawn to one specific fond memory of a boy who I wish I still spoke to,

The room was dark and frigid, the building made entirely of concrete always either to hot or cold, the windows shut soundly, no lighting the room, he couldn’t stand to see himself cry,

Cradling his head against my chest, his body pressed between myself and the wall, arms wrapped tightly round my waist, one of my hands in running through his hair, the other rubbing circles down his back,

The soft sound of tears falling silently, really only hearing his deep breathes through the fabric of my shirt, a wet spot beginning to form where he’s been nuzzled into my breast,

the tears were slow at first, then all at once the flood gates opened and he squeezed me so tight, fully buried his face into my chest and started sobbing, I was so shocked for a moment I didn’t quite know what to say,

I just slid myself down a bit so he could lay down flat on top of me, pulled him in as close as I could and wrapped my body into his,

“Shhhh, it’s ok,,,, it’s ok,,,, just let it alllll out,,,, mommas got you,,,,, it’s gonna be ok,,,,”

And on and on for what felt like an entirety until there weren’t any tears left to cry, he just held me shaking silently for a while, until, in the softest tone I’d ever hear him emit,

“,,,,,thank you mommy,,,,,,,”

I held him for the rest of the afternoon, didn’t try and ask if he was ok, or what was wrong, just let him be safe in my arms

[phlebaphobia]

Baby Talk

People really seemed to enjoy my post about age play and speech restriction, and it inspired me to write this.

All characters in this piece of fiction are role-playing adults.

*

Day 1

"Okay, but before we start, can I just say --"

"No."

He squeezes your jaw until you open your mouth. The ball gag goes in for the rest of the night.

*

Day 2

You make it to the end of breakfast, which is easy because you're not a big talker in the mornings anyway. Then, just before your last bite of toast, you say, "I was thinking, maybe later we could --"

"No."

He catches you by the chin, gag at the ready. You don't get to have that final bite of toast.

*

You think he'll take it out for you to eat and drink, and he does, but he just replaces it with a ring gag and laughs at you as you choke down the smoothies he makes for you. You have to tip your head back to swallow and it still spills over your chin. He wipes your face clean like you're an actual child.

*

Day 3

Your jaw aches after having the gag in all day yesterday. You massage it and glare at him over the breakfast table. He grins, all teeth. "Something you want to say?"

He almost gets you, because you're an idiot. Your mouth is open when you catch yourself and you actually cover it with your hand. That makes him laugh and your glare deepens. "Good catch," he says. "Let me know if you've got something you wanna share, baby. Daddy's listening."

Today, you make it until mid-afternoon and it kills you. He calls you a chatterbox and you've always told him that he's exaggerating, but you've never realised how much you're used to sharing every thought that pops into your mind. You catch yourself again and again and again, swallowing down words until you feel like you might explode from all the things you're keeping to yourself.

It's a video that breaks you. You've been scrolling on your phone and it's just this stupid little thirty-second video with a kitten that you have to show him. "Look," you say, waving your phone at him, and a second later, you freeze when you realise your mistake.

He looks up from his book, his hand already going to his pocket, where that fucking gag is waiting, and he's grinning like he's won again. You panic and more words spill out before you can stop them, before you can even think about being embarrassed.

"Wook!" you say. "Um -- um -- wook, Dada! It's, um, is a kitty!"

It's desperate and so infantile that you find yourself cringing even as the words leave your mouth -- but his hand has stilled. He cocks his head to the side, smiling, and maybe it's meant to look sweet and encouraging, but there's an edge of cruelty to it that makes you shiver -- and a hint of smugness that makes you want to slap him across the face.

"You have a kitty you want to show Dada?" he says. Dada makes you shudder. You've never called him that. But you weren't thinking, you were scrambling, and you don't think he's ever going to let you forget it. "Come on, then." He leans back in his seat and pats his thigh. "Come sit on Dada's lap and show him the kitty."

You perch on his lap and play the video for him. He coos and tickles your sides and you squirm, but don't make a sound. You feel hot and cold all over, sitting mute and humiliated.

You don't say a word for the rest of the day and the gag stays safely tucked in his pocket.

*

Day 4

"Hey, can we take a break?" you say. "I need to --"

He wraps a hand around the back of your neck. "And here I was, thinking you had learnt," he says, voice warm and smooth as honey. He kisses the tip of your nose after he gags you.

*

Day 5

"Dada," you say, staring at your toast. You have your hands clenched into fists under the table. You don't know exactly what kind of speech will be deemed too grown up and have him reaching for that fucking gag, so you're trying to play it safe, even though it's making your skin crawl. "Dada, can take a bweak?"

"A break, sweetheart?" You can feel his gaze on you. Attentive and concerned and oh-so-caring. "A break from what?"

"Fwom --" You swallow. Your spit feels too warm and too thick in your mouth. "Fwom game. Wif..." You gesture vaguely at your mouth. "Talking."

You hear him push his chair back from the table. He gets up, walks around to your chair, crouches beside you. He puts a heavy hand on your knee. "Baby," he says, and his tone is so tender and it feels so good to be talking to him again that you almost want to cry. "Look at me, honey."

You reluctantly raise your chin and meet his gaze. He smiles at you, encouraging, and you manage a wobbly grin in response. "Hi," you whisper, reaching out to brush his beard with your fingertips. You sniffle, just a little bit. "Missed you -- uh. Missed chu, Dada."

He catches your hand and kisses your fingers. "I'm right here, silly," he says. He doesn't let go of your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles as he speaks. "But I think you've misunderstood something, honey. This isn't a game. You're not going to call time-out or stop playing when things get hard." He interlaces his fingers with yours and brings your joined hands to his mouth. "I love you very much," he says, "and I show that love by setting rules. I expect you to show your love for me by following those rules."

"But --" You fight for the right words, struggling to express yourself without slipping out of baby talk and finding yourself gagged again. "But. Was meant to be. Was gonna be a game, Dada."

He shakes his head. "I never said it was a game," he says. "I think that's just the way your silly baby head understood it." He lets go of your hand and shifts away from you. You immediately miss the warmth of his body near yours. "You always have a choice, honey," he says. "You always have a way out. You can always leave Daddy's house, whenever you want."

"Jus'..." You swallow. "Jus' can't come back."

He smiles sadly and boops your nose. "That's right," he says. "If you leave, you can't come back."

*

Day 11

It's a relief to go back to work. Sure, you're just in your home office and you have to keep your door open so Daddy can keep an eye on you, but having video calls where you can speak like an adult feels grounding in a way you never expected. You shape words the way you're meant to, you can speak without hesitating to make sure you're slurring.

Daddy checks in with you after each meeting. "That sounded like a fun game of pretend," he says, standing in the doorway of your office with his hands tucked into his pockets. "But you know it's just pretend, yeah?"

You glance at your screen to make sure you've definitely left the meeting. "Yesh," you say. You fiddle with the pacifier he makes you keep on your desk so you don't bite your nails. "Yesh, Dada."

*

Day 14

"Fuck me, yes, right there, fuck, Daddy, please --"

He stops mid-thrust and grabs your hips to stop you from bouncing on him. "No," you say, when he reaches for the ball gag on the bedside table. "No, Daddy, please, not now --"

*

Day 19

You cling to his hand in the coffee shop and stay absolutely silent as he orders for you. An Americano for him, a small hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles for you.

*

Day 27

"I fucking hate you."

He raises his eyebrows and points. "Door's that way," he says. You don't move and he smirks. "Yeah, that's what I thought. C'mere, open your mouth."

*

Day 31

"Dada, pwease, pwease, hawder, Dada, inside me, in my -- in my bottom, pwease, Dada."

He doesn't stop until you've come, squeezing around his cock and telling Dada that you wuv wuv wuv him. He fills you with his come and spends the next hour idly dragging his fingers over your sloppy hole and pushing his leaking come back inside you.

*

Day 42

You slip up in a meeting.

"Fink we need to change fwom --" You catch yourself, choke, swallow. "Sorry," you say, seeing a few people grin or chuckle. "I haven't had enough coffee yet." You hope your webcam isn't good enough to capture your blush.

*

Day 67

"Dada, can... can nowmal? Ever 'gain?"

He stirs his coffee and smiles at you. He hasn't had to touch the gag in weeks. "What are you talking about, baby? This is normal."

*

Buy my books on Amazon

Buy my books on Smashwords (my Smashwords store has books that aren't on Amazon!)

[phlebaphobia]

Sisters play fighting, wrestling and pinning each other, falling all over one another trying to stay on top, soft and playful, neither really trying to win, just wanting an excuse to get close to the other, to feel her warm skin up against their own,

Things getting more serious as the struggle continues, laughs and giggles giving to concentrated efforts, each girl trying her hardest to pin the other, to get on top,

little sis hooking her leg under the bigger girl and flipping her onto her back, quickly jumping up on her chest and raising her arms in a victory celebration,

Big sister immediately flinching and instinctively kicking the little one off, sending her little sister crashing to the floor below, scrapping her knees and banging her head against the hard wood,

Big sister pushing herself away, crawling hard and fast in any direction, a look wild panic in her eyes, suddenly snapping back into herself and seeing the blood on her sister,

Breaking down into tears and clutching her knees to her chest, hiding her face in the little chasm she’s made,

“IM SORRY! IM SORRY! IM SORRY! I DIDNT MEAN TO IM SORRY IM SORRY PLEASE DONT SEND ME AWAY AGAIN! I DIDNT DO IT ON PURPOSE PLEASE! IM SORRY I WONT DO IT AGAIN I PROMISE!!!”

Little sis scrambling over to her big sister, nearly incoherent at this point, quickly wrapping her little arms around the bigger girl,

“Hey, hey it’s ok, I’ve got you it’s ok, you didn’t do anything wrong, nothing bads gonna happen, I’ve got you, you’re ok, I’m right here”

Holding her big sister for hours as her sobs slowly subside, not letting lose her iron grip on the older girl,

“I’m never gonna let you go” she whispers in her now sleeping sisters ear

[phlebaphobia]

Taking some poor femme out into the woods wrapping a noose around her neck, hoisting her up over a branch and down onto my cock, holding the rope tight so every time she’s lowered down onto my cock the rope bites hard into her soft neck,

Every hit of her cervix seemingly her last, having her black out on my cock over and over again, coming to sobbing and disoriented, past the point of begging for her life, just begging for me to stop toying with her,

Promising her that if she gets me off by herself that I’ll cut her lose, using the last of her strength to buck her hips as best she can, raising and lowering herself as her vision goes blurry until finally I pull her down and fully burry myself inside, emptying my balls into her fading form,

Finishing and sliding out from under her, cleaning my cock with her tears before hoisting her high, watching the panic and fear fill her face once again as any last shred of hope she had about escaping is washed away,

Watching her dangle and struggle against the rope until finally she passes out, body still kicking and twitching for a few good minutes before going fully limp, snapping a few shots before leaving her naked corpse for hikers to find in a few weeks,

[phlebaphobia]

“My dad loves me more than your daddy loves you” (talking about rape)

-My beautiful mon husband sister Butch brother kiddo wife father

[phlebaphobia]

I always am like “man I wish I was one of those people who had like a big kink that they could have be like their ‘whole thing’ like leather or latex or piss or something, I don’t have a ‘one big defining kink’ and I wish I did!”

And then I remember force fem exists!!!

And then I remember that it’s mostly cis men who are into it,,,

THEN I REMEMBER DETRANS EXISTS!!!

So yeah I think I just like making handsome boys into pretty girls, I think I have a creation kink call me god or something