#ftmtf cnc

[ziggystarburstt]

Forced Orgasm Notes Game

Decide how many times I have to force myself to orgasm while reminding myself I’m just a delusional girl until I truly believe it and can’t cum unless I’m getting called a girl.

5 Notes - 5 times with only a dildo

10 Notes - 10 times with a dildo and a plug

15 Notes - 15 times with a dildo, plug, and wand

25 Notes - 20 times with DP in one hole, vibrator on clit

35 Notes - 30 times with nipple clamps and any toys I choose

40 Notes - 40 times, dildos in both holes, with vibrator on clit

50 Notes - 50 times, edging first, dildos both holes, vibrator, and nipple clamps

50+ Notes - +5 orgasms for each note, with dildo both holes, dildo down throat, nipple clamps, vibrator on clit, while watching detrans hypnosis porn.

[permanentlyfemale]

⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️

Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.

“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.

Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”

“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.

As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”

“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”

“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.

“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”

Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”

“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”

You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”

“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.

“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”

“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”

“Of course!” You answer instinctively.

“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.

“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!

“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.

“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.

Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”

“Uh… no, sorry.”

“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.

“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.

“Umm… not yet, no.”

“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”

“I guess…”

“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”

“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.

“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”

Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”

This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”

“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.

Still upset, you nodded.

He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.

Surprised, you squeaked.

“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.

“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.

Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”

“Good girl.”

“Huhh…”

“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”

“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.

“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.

“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.

“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”

Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.

“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.

“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.

He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.

You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!

Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”

You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”

“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.

You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.

Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.

[domfakeboys]

When doctors exam you to ensure you are a real trans man, they’ll have to examine your pussy. However, the moment your pussy starts getting sloppy they’ll know you are just a slutty girl.

You are aroused and wet, so the doctor will have to give you a new examination to ensure you are functioning like a proper girl.

Reproduction organ functionality exam: The test only stops after a certain amount of sperm is delivered inside.

[ftmtfpussy]

First date idea if you're going out with a fakeboy:

Rape him her and get him her pregnant so he she has to detransition :3 maybe his her parents will even force him her to marry you so the family won't gossip about a child out of wedlock - you get a housewife and a rape toy!

[paratheghost]

Wanna gently get in between my fakeboys legs while she’s sleeping and move her panties to the side to expose her cute little plump pussy and start licking it and sticking my tongue inside of it and tasting every fold of it… maybe she’ll wake up and say, “dad, what are you doing?” And I’ll reply “conducting a routine taste test… don’t you know that’s your daddy’s job? Don’t try to wiggle your way out of it now… just lay back and relax… try to fall asleep again if you can…” if she tries to wiggle away, I’ll quickly correct her by grabbing her, verbally scolding her then flipping her over and administering butt spankings, but if she decides to be obedient, I’ll keep eating her cute little pussy until im satisfied, giving very little attention to her throbbing, desperate clit and focusing on tongue fucking her cunt to loosen up her incredibly tight virgin pussy. I’ll point out how cute her pink little clitty is, desperate for daddy’s attention and showing me how much she likes it when I have my way with her body and use it whenever I please, I’ll leave her dripping and desperate to cum and I’ll force her to put her panties back over her pussy and it soak them.

[fakeboyfantasies]

The impulsive urge to come out publicly as detransitioning so I have no choice anymore because no one will trust a stupid little girl who can’t even figure out her gender identity.

[ziggystarburstt]

Forced anal because “if you wanna be a boy so bad I’ll make you take it like one”

[permanentlyfemale]

aaagh! i can’t stop imagining a real biological male thrusting in to me with my hands tied behind my back, his hands on my boobs as they bounced and clapped together… he would keep babbling about how beautiful and womanly they were and how i wouldn’t be able to bind once they swelled with milk and grew. i wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch him grope and kiss my breasts and slam his penis in to my womanhood, as the male fulfilled his duty of inseminating the delusional female.

[domfakeboys]

POV: making money off a fakeboy

I want to turn a fakeboy with a big ass and wide hips into a dumb, slobbering porn slut, chain her up and rape her in front of a camera. She would slowly detransititon, discarding any aspect of her masculinity, until she was a perfectly feminized only bimbo, sending her OF money to my bank account, just for the pleasure of being enjoyed as a beautiful woman. She will accept her place as a wobbling body with nothing to offer but her curvaceous figure

[ftmtfuckpig]

wanna do sum denial

evry note this gets is anothr minut i cant tuch my pussy

pls spam i wanna get so horny and desperat

[failgirl-toybreaker]

I wanna tease you until you're so horny you can't help but rape my fakeboy cunt 💕 I'm sure it would be so easy to overpower me and bury your cock in me while I cry

It'll be funny too, you'll go from "haha, i bet i'm making you hard, you soooo want some of this"

To "PLEASE GOD IM SORRY IM SORRY NO STOP"

To" hehehehe, lets do that again sometime, i hope i got knocked up :D"

Before you know it!!!

[fakeboyfantasies]

How can I even pretend to be a boy when the second a guy asks for my real name, I tell him with no hesitation?

[ziggystarburstt]

Cw: blackmail, cnc, detrans, stalking, teacherXstudent

Part 1

Your teacher was always such a creep towards you, but no one ever believed the words of a fakeboy, lying about their own gender to everyone and themselves. He would constantly eye you up and down, deny you access to the bathroom, keep you after class to say weird things to you in secret.

You’d see him outside school as well, but always just figured it was a coincidence, small town after all. Until one day he told you to stay after school. You of course obliged, as you know you’d get in more trouble if you didn’t, and walked to his classroom after school was out.

“Come in. Shut the door behind you.” He spoke sternly. “Have a seat.”

You do so in the desk closest to his, as he walks over to the door and locks it from inside. You gulp, thinking about what he’s going to do to you.

As he walks back over to you, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out some pictures that he throws directly on your desk. You immediately recognize them as photos of you masturbating mercilessly to some super fucked up porn, as well as pictures of you publicly urinating where you thought no one could see you.

You start shaking, “th-that’s not me!” You try to deny.

He laughs slightly, “don’t be shy, I know it is. I was following you.” He smirks, and leans over you, resting his hands on the desk, looking down at you. “I’m sure you don’t want these getting to the police… or even your parents.”

You begin to panic, wide eyed and frantically you plead “No you cant!! My parents will disown me!!”

“Shh shh” he puts a finger to his lips, “don’t worry, I have a little proposition. You help me and I’ll help you, okay?”

You nod in an almost begging manor, desperately hoping that he’s just going to help you get rid of these pictures.

“Promise?” He asks.

You beg him “I’ll do anything! Just don’t show anyone those photos!!”

He snatches the pictures from the desk and pockets them again. “Great!” He smiles, “then here’s the deal… I run a side club with some of the fraternities here at the school. We need a little helper.”

You look at him quizzically, “what do you mean a helper?”

“Just come to this address tomorrow after school,” he hands you a piece of paper with an address on it, “we can talk more about the deal then.”

You nod, and pocket the piece of paper. He walks over to the door and unlocks it.

“Hope you have a nice rest of your day. Make sure you rest up tonight. You’ll be needing it.”

You nervously walk out of the room and begin your trek home, only thinking about the fact that your teacher has such dirty pics of you, and could show them to just about anyone. The thought makes your heart race.

You barely slept that night, tossing and turning from the anxiety. Making it through the school day was even harder, it was just so hard to think about anything else. But you did it, and when school was finally over, you made your way towards the address written on the piece of paper your teacher gave you.

The building was old and dinghy, and out front, you could see your teacher waiting for you.

“Hope the walk wasn’t too bad!” He spoke as you approached him.

You laughed nervously “not at all! It was fine.” You look around, trying to get a good sense of your surroundings. “So uhm, what is this place?”

“The place itself doesn’t really matter. It’s just a building. It’s what you’ll be doing here that really matters.” He said, ushering you into the building from behind, one hand placed firmly on your shoulder. “You’re going to be helping the next generation of men learn how to do one of the most important things they could possibly do!”

As he walked you further into the building, his grip on your shoulder became ever so slightly tighter.

You looked back at him, “what exactly will I be doing?”

He smirked. “You said you’d do anything, right?”

You nod nervously. “Yes.”

“Then you’ll see.” He said smugly, “it’s a little bit of a surprise, but I think you’ll learn to enjoy it.”

He leads you to a door, and tells you to push it open. As you do, you walk in to a silent room full of frat boys sitting in desks quietly, and before you can process anything else, a cloth bag goes over your head, and you’re grabbed from under the shoulders and your legs are being pulled into the air.

“Hey!! Get off me!!” You squirm and scream and cry for help.

You hear the boys talking to each other, “get her over there!” “Grab the rope!” “Put her right here!”

“Now boys,” you hear your teachers voice, “be gentle, you don’t want to break her before the demonstration.”

You feel the frat boys struggle to move you, and then suddenly you’re being bent over a desk, and one of them is leaning on your back so you can’t get up, while 4 other boys are working on tying your hands and feet to the legs of the desk.

You squirm and wiggle but you can’t get free, the bag still over your head is making it hard to know what’s going on. Suddenly you feel hands all over you, and you can hear giggles and sleazy remarks about your own body coming from the crowd of frat guys in the room.

“Get off of me!!” You plead with them, and suddenly you hear your teachers voice again.

“Boys!! Everyone have a seat!” He barked. “We can start the demonstration once everyone is settled.”

He waltzed over to where you were squirming, trying to escape frantically from the ropes, and you feel his presence lean towards you. “You said you’d do anything, so cooperate and I’ll get rid of those dirty photos.” He whispered.

You’re shocked, but you nod in agreement and begin to settle in.

“Now everyone,” he speaks to the room, “we can begin.”

He walks around you, and you can feel his hands go to your waistband, and swiftly pull your pants down around your ankles. “Welcome to Hands on Sexual education! Today we will be getting into reproductive justice, and how to make any woman have an orgasm, especially delusional ones that think they’re boys.”

“What!?” You yelp, and begin struggling against the ropes again, but are stunned by a harsh smack against your ass cheek, and you cry out in pain.

“Cooperate!” Your teacher yells, and leans towards your ear again to whisper “or I’ll tell the boys to take out their phones and take even more pictures of you.”

You silently oblige as he backs away, and addresses his club of boys once again.

“So, for those of you who haven’t seen one,” he points to your girly pussy, “this is a woman’s vagina,” and sticks a finger in your hole.

(Part 2 coming soon)

[spacedoutfakeboy]

hello everyoneeee, i’m about to fall asleep but DM me if you wanna see a picture of my girly tits when i wake up🤭🥰

[domfakeboys]

Tell daddy what part of your body makes you most dysphoric so daddy can fix it. Fakeboys who call their clits tcocks are so delusional. Your tiny cute clitty is nothing in comparison to a real man’s thick hard cock. I’m going to slap my cock against your girly pussy for you to feel the weight of a real man.

[homoeroticicarus]

Would love for someone to pressure or force me into sex work, make me create an OF. Hire a photographer or be one, make me dress up in humiliating or cute, skimpy outfits, and post all of my photos for sale, whether for cheap or for a decent price, up to you.

Have my nudes and lewds floating around, my body everywhere on the internet. The idea sounds terrifying but what choice do I have?